#ALfie solomons

[dyns33]

Thomas : "Mr. Solomons." Alfie : "Tommy." Thomas : "You must have heard about the many explosions in the city that have had my men running around for the past few days." Alfie : "Possibly." Thomas : "Do you have anything to say about that ?" Alfie : "Remember that time my treacle was sad and I pretended I was going to die so you could come comfort her ?" Thomas : "…Yes ?" Alfie : "Well, my little wife is tired, so I needed you and your noisy brothers to stay away from her so she could rest in peace." Thomas : "… You could just call. Every time." Alfie : "I could, but it's less fun."

[lolitaadaydreams]

😭😭😭

[ninja-potato-shelby-solomons]

[warnersister]

Peaky blinders headcannon ->

“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”

Find the request here

Tommy🪖

🪖Tommy had been courting you for a good few months now; much longer than he would any other woman. But he quite liked you so he was more than willing to make an exception for the lovely young lady that had just moved to the area.

🪖You’d moved for a fresh start, away from your past and to Birmingham. You’d packed your bags and left home and got on the train - taking it as far as it would go and got out when the conductor pleaded with you to disembark as they’d start the journey back to your beginnings.

🪖You’d accepted the job at The Garrison, noting the sign in the window as you aimlessly wandered the streets, mindlessly questioning your intentions. The sign in the window was almost a call from God and you hurried inside, being greeted by the bar man and a few raised eyebrows at the young girl with her life in a suitcase and hair all tangled. “Y’alright love? Look like you need a drink.” You shook your head. “A job is what I need. Still hiring?” You asked and he looked you over once. “When can you start?”

🪖So eleven months deep with a flat and a job you were quite happy in Birmingham. Your specialty straying away from being a barmaid and more towards being a hostess and front of house staff. You’d seat people and prepare the hotel lodgings upstairs, and arrange rooms and port for pesky business when it came down to it. And in the process you’d captured the attention of a certain blinder who believed he had no business interfering with the life of a young maiden just getting back on her feet, but you entertained him so who was he to be so austere and deny himself such pleasures?

🪖You were shutting shop on a Saturday night, footfall substantial and you’d finally managed to kick all drunkards out of the pub after much struggle and a bit of help from John Shelby, who’d tipped his hat and went on his merry way. You’d grabbed your coat of the hanger, hearing the door bell chime behind you “we’re closed” you announced, pivoting on your heel “I know.” That all familiar voice sounded and you peeked your head. “Alright, Tommy?” You ask, getting your bag and fastening your coat; preparing for a cold winter night in Birmingham.

🪖He stepped closer and you, in turn, stepped backwards until you were trapped against the bar. “This has gone on for long enough,” he says gruffly, staring deep into your eyes and studying your face. You’d raised your brows “what has, Tom?” He shook his head and chuckled slightly. “You and I; ‘m so sick of seeing you and not being able to have you for myself.” He tells you, right arm wrapping around your waist and head dipping slightly.

🪖Your hand came up to hold him where he was and he stopped, in question. “Not like this Tommy.” You say, looking away but he grasps your chin gently to pull you back to face him. “Not like this?” He hums “Thomas, I’ve never..” you lead off hoping he’d understand what you were implying. He thought for a moment before it clicked. “Never?” You shook your head “never.” His Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed a lump in his throat “never.” He mumbled. “And how should I go about this the right way?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips and smiling slightly.

🪖“Dinner and a nice walk.” You say and he nods with a hum. “How’s tomorrow?” You shake your head “not leaving Harry to deal with your lot on a Sunday.” “When you next off?” He asks “Friday.” “Then we’ll go out on Friday.” You nod and smile, but point a judging finger at him. “No guns” he smiles “yes sweetheart, no guns.” “And no peaky business” he shakes his head “no business.” “No fighting either, at all” you warn and he chuckles “I promise” you lean your hand up to caress his face and he leans into your touch. “Take that bloody razor blade out of your cap too.” He raises a brow “how do you know about that?” “You underestimate the amount of times I’ve carried Arthur out of this bar and nearly sliced my hand on that thing.”

🪖“I want to see Thomas. No Shelby.” You say and he blinks. “Then Thomas you shall have.” “May I walk you home?” He asks and you smile up at him “you may” and he offers an arm to walk you to your house, looking forward to taking the last of your innocence the following Friday.

Alfie🧸

🧸Alfie recently started attending his local synagogue, at first yes: to reconnect with his faith, but now it was to see the young woman who attended every day, volunteering as your father was the rabbi. Albeit that sounding wrong, Alfie thought the rabbi was bordering on ancient and you were younger than him, but you were nearly twenty six so that wasn’t too bad.. right?

🧸“Ah Mr Solomons, back again I see” the rabbi commented, noted the recent inclination of Alfie’s presence at the house of God. “Well, been trying to reconnect.” He told his superior. “With God or with my daughter?” The rabbi asked and Alfie’s brows rose. “E-excuse me?” He choked on his words. The rabbi smirked with a slight twinkle in his eye “I’m not stupid” “no, of course you’re not-” “I’ve seen how you’ve been eyeing her.” Alfie quietened for a moment. “Well, y’see she’s a lovely young lady” “I agree, that’s how I raised her.” “And I’d like to ask her for dinner, with your blessing, f’course.” Alfie began to ramble but his elder cut him off.

🧸“Not with the business you’re in, Alfred.” And his mouth ran dry. “For her I’d get out of it, move to Morecambe, open a bakery, marry, have kids, y’know I’d raise them proper.” Rabbi Kaplan again hummed “but that sort of business isn’t the kind you can get out of, is it?” “You did, Abe.” Alfie corrects him and there’s a moment of contemplative silence. “You’re right I did. But no one hurts a rabbi.” “Then I’ll get ordained.” Alfie shrugged. Abraham looked at the man before him. “Gods punished me enough. He knows how much physical pain I’m in. And ‘m not gettin’ any younger. Neither’s she. ‘nd I never wanna be in this business anymore. Wanna settle down, dogs, kids, grandkids, the works.” Alfie says and Abe’s tongue protrudes from his lips to lick his dry lips as he thinks.

🧸“If I allow this, he’s watching.” The man looks up “I know.” “And if I allow this, she calls all the shots.” Alfie nods “wouldn’t have it any other way” “as in she says no, means no. She wants to go for a walk at two in the morning, you take her. She wants to come here, you bring her. She wants to get married, you wed her.” The man took two steps closer so him and Alfie were closer than any Rabbit should be with his child “she tells you to jump of the docks, you jump.” Alfie’s eyes don’t falter. “Done.” Abraham closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face “alright, you have my blessing.” Alfie nods, trying to suppress his glee, shaking the rabbi’s hand and walking towards the front of the synagogue where you were sat counting donations.

🧸“Excuse me missus” Alfie clears his throat and you look up at him, swallowing with a lump in his throat “yes?” “I was wondering if you’d like to go for an eat to bite, I mean a bite to eat, I mean-” you giggle at him “yes Alfie I’d love to go out with you.” Alfie sighed in relief and smiled down at you noting how the rabbi had wandered off elsewhere. You sealed and locked the cash box, storing it where I belonged and Alfie held his arm out for you to take “shall we?” You grin back at him “we shall”

🧸You’d been seeing Alfie for going on several months, and today he’d arranged for a restaurant to be shut down in order for the two of you to enjoy some peace and quiet together. You’d enjoyed a lovely romantic meal, accompanied by a bouquet of white tulips and a sneaky kiss to Alfie’s cheek, which he was grateful that they were covered by a large beard - disguising his beat-red features.

🧸Alfie was walking you back to his house, as you’d both previously agreed that you’d stay for the night and head towards Morecambe Bay the following day: to pick out a cottage on the seafront.

🧸You had some clothes at Alfie’s house, for events such as this where you’d decided to stay or go elsewhere the following day without needing to drop back home for anything. You were uncoiling your hair, and your gentle giant came around to hug you from behind, kissing up your neck until you giggled from being tickled, turning to kiss his lips.

🧸Your eyes surveyed one another’s for a moment, him leaning back down to kiss you in a more seriously insinuating manner - sciatica obviously not bothering him today as he managed to pick you up and lead you to his bed. “Alfie wait,” you say quickly and the man immediately stopped “what’s wrong treacle? If y’don’t want to we’ll stop here ‘nd-” “no it’s not that” your left hand fiddled with the rings on your right “what’s wrong flower?” He caressed your cheek gently. “Alfie I’ve never done anything before.” You say and his brows form a line in confusion. “Y’what?” “Alfie I’m a virgin.” You say and time almost stands still, Alfie nearly felt sick as he’d been handling you like a woman of the night and not a dignified young lady of whom was vastly inexperienced. “‘M sorry alf.” You say, looking down. Alfie grasps your chin and forces your eyes to connect with his “it’s me who should be apologising, sweetness. Your old man didn’t know. ‘V been handling y’ like ‘y know what you’re doin’.” He says gently. “And if y’ don’t want to, we don’t have to.” “No Alfie I want to.” And you could swear you could see the hearts forming in his irises, lenses constricting into something unnatural but simultaneously not animalistic. “I’ll take good care ‘f y’ love, just lay down for Alfie and let ‘im work his magic, yeah?” He says, laying you back gently on the bed, vowing to handle you like a porcelain doll in a box of feathers.

Arthur🍺

🍺You were several years younger than Arthur, he never felt like you were - he was as immature as any lad two decades his senior, but with you he never felt his age.

🍺The peaky blinders had been invited to a lavish banquet, black tie, chandeliers, live orchestra, the works. And Arthur never shied away from an opportunity to show his lover off, especially when that dress hugged you perfectly and your matching black gloves made you look so dainty and proper. He was proud to waltz into that event, feeling almost smug with ‘such a babe’ on his arm.

🍺The evening began wonderfully, three courses, all of which Arthur found laughable as he questioned the waiter why his entree was only a piece of rocket and slice of undercooked stake. Drinks were flowing and he was happy to get tipsy while to congregated with Polly and Ada, smitten to see you engaging so well with his family and them requiting his adoration for her.

🍺You’d stood at the bar, trying to gain the attention of the bartender to order yourself another rum and coke and your date an umpteenth pint. “Hiya can I just have a rum and coke and an apple juice?” You ask the man and he raises an eyebrow. “He’s so drunk I don’t think he’ll tell the difference.” He laughs and nods, heading off to get the top of shelf rum Arthur had requested he’d serve you earlier.

🍺“Gorgeous night, isn’t it?” A voice asked from beside you and you peer left, a young gentlemen with slicked back black hair asked as he knocked back the rest of the whiskey he’d been nursing for a while, requesting another as well as your drinks being on him. “Yes lovely.” You say shortly. “Well I was just thinking-” he begins smugly, before hissing and you look back at him quickly to see whatever is the matter. His finger was drawing blood as the new glass he’d been given was chipped on the end, in turn slicing the edge of his finger. “Oh dear, here let me help” you grabbed one of the inscribed handkerchiefs from the pile and applied pressure on his finger, only noticing your proximity when he chuckled. “What a first acquaintance” you laugh and agree. “You’re good at this” he hums “nurse in the war.” You say, not really wanting to reflect on the past.

🍺“May I buy you another drink for your troubles? Or possibly dinner?” He inquires with an up quirked lip. “No thank-” “I think she’s quite happy with the fella she’s got, son.” An angered voice quipped from behind you through gritted teeth, an arm snaking around your waist as the boy’s face ran pale. “Mr Shelby, sorry she didn’t say-” “she shouldn’t have too. Now fuck off before I kick the living daylights out of ya.” Arthur threatens and the previously smug man makes himself scarce.

🍺“Arthur,” “c’mon. We’re leaving.” He says, dragging you through the crowds of people and hailing a taxi, still gentlemanly opening the door for you but clambering in beside you, the smoke billowing from his ears fogging the windows. “Fucking little boy thinking he can talk to my fuckin’ woman, fuckin’ bastard” he reiteratively mumbled under his breath until he reached his house, roughly taking you from the car and throwing a wad of cash at the driver.

🍺As soon as you entered the house you were trapped against the closed door, his lips attacking yours unexpectedly as you struggled to keep up with his might. “I’ll show him who you fuckin’ belong to” “Arthur” “little boy makes up nothin’” “Arthur” “scream my name so the little bastard will fuckin’ hear me” “Arthur I’m a virgin” the man stopped immediately, expression stopping form angered to a more gentle one. “Y’what love?” He asks quietly, tight grip on your trapped wrists loosening “I’ve never had sex before Arth, sorry for not telling you.” You could see him visibly sobering up. “Oh my darlin’ m’sorry I didn’t know.”

🍺This was the only time you’d made Arthur feel his age, his lover a virgin. “I’ll take good care of you sweetheart, if y’let me.” “Show y’ what you’ve missed out on” he chuckles and you laugh, allowing him to pick you up to carry you up the stairs and into the bedroom.

John🥃

🥃Waking up this morning and getting married to a stranger wasn’t on your bingo card. But here you are. Kneeled at the alter beside a smirking young lad who was in a similar situation. “By the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The stranger smiled and you and kissed your lips sweetly.

🥃The reception was just as hazy. Drinks were flowing and laughter was heard. Your father and Thomas Shelby seemed at peace for once and all was right with the world. When slow dancing, John had held you close and embraced you like you were young lovers wed, not total strangers at the chapel. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and smiled as you giggled back at his remarks, fighting with icing on the cake and having an overly fun time with one another’s families after the initial shock from the morning. After all, he was incredibly charming and you couldn’t get out of a gypsy marriage that easily. Not in post-war Britain.

🥃You headed back to the Shelby Manor in a car strung with cans, attached by young children earlier in the day. You looked out the window to the vast house, feeling a hand tugging gently on your hair, the owner tucking it behind your ear as you looked at home. “Glad we’re married cause I could never pull you if I tried, gorgeous.” He comments and you laugh. “You’re joking. One drink and I’d be a gonner.” “At least we got to skip the funny business” he took your chin between your forefinger and chin “cause your all mine now, darling”

🥃He’d hurried you to your room quicker than anticipated, giggling like school children up to no good. He’d kissed you tenderly once inside, behind closed doors and away from the interference of all other prying eyes.

🥃He spun you gently, hands dropping to focus on the details of the backing of your dress; unthreading and untying the intricate lacings applied to keep the gown tight to your person. The dress fell and pooled at your ankles, him attacking the now bare skin with open-mouthed kisses and gentle pecks to the untouched skin.

🥃Coming to your front, he cornered you backwards in small steps until your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards onto it - him on top of you, kissing down your bodice animalisticly. “John?” He stopped and looked up with a hypnotic gaze in his eye “yes love?” “I’ve never had sex before.” You say shakily and he stops all movement. He falters for a moment, before climbing slightly higher in order to be face to face with you “never? You’re a virgin?” You nod back and he swallows the heavy lump in his throat as his briefs tighten.

🥃“Well then what an opportunity to consummate the marriage, aye darling?” He smirks “if you’ll let me that is” you smile and offer a kiss to his lips, him getting the green flag and go ahead to give you the absolute night of your life.

Bonnie🥊

🥊Bonnie was an old fashioned lad. From a young age he drempt of the stereotypical traveller lifestyle - never a singular home, him the homemaker, wife on his arm and umpteen kids running wild. It sounded like heaven. And from the moment he’d set eyes on you Bonnie had decided that that was your role - destined to be by his side. You weren’t a gypsy yourself, but he was certain he could sway you but either way he was happy to compromise as long as he had you.

🥊Tonight was one of, if not the, biggest night of his life thus far. The largest and most important fight he’d ever partake in, not only against the reigning champion which would secure his fate of being the new ruler, but also performing in front of the Peaky Blinders - prove himself to the trust Tommy Shelby had bestowed upon him. And most significantly, you were watching.

🥊He was stood in his changing room, allowing you to gently wrap his hands while his father gave him a pep talk. “Five minutes son.” His dad said, patting his back and nodding at you as he left to give you a minute alone before his spotlight moment. You finished wrapping the cloth around his palms and took his face into your hands, forcing him to look at you. “How we feeling champ?” You ask, trying to wake him up from his dystopian trance. “‘m scared m’love.” He mumbled as you frowned slightly. “Why’re you scared? Talk to me Bon, get it all out. You scared about the Shelby family? I’ll kick ‘em out-" “scared ‘m gonna disappoint you.” He says and you falter.

🥊“Bon you could never disappoint me, why would you think that?” He sighed, looking away before beginning to admit his desires. “Just wanna make you proud. I want to marry you and give you my children and travel as a family. But if I lose you won’t want to do that.” He grumbles. You chuckle slightly. “You’re such a dafty, Bon.” You say and his eyebrows crease. You lean into kiss him as he happily requites the gesture. “Bonnie of course I want to be with you either way. I don’t care if you loose, hell I don’t care if you don’t want to fight and walk out, I’ll walk right out with you.” You say.

🥊“I never knew you felt like that but I’d love to marry you Bon and have your children and I’d be willing to travel with you. I just need you to stop fretting and go win this. I love ya Bonnie.” You say, leaning your forehead against his. “You mean it?” He asks, giddily. You nod “I do”

🥊“God if I win this we’re gonna get started on those kids.” He says, getting riled up as the minutes tick down. You laugh at him “anything you want, Bonnie. Always wanted my first time to be with you.” You say and time stops. His father knocks on the door to hail his son out to the ring.

🥊“BONNIE!” “You’re a virgin?” “Yes” “BONNIE COME ON!” “And you want me to take your virginity?” “Yes Bonnie I trust you. Now go.” He hurries out of the door reluctantly, all riled up and heading for the ring.

🥊The knockout was inevitable, his opponent out cold in a matter of rounds, blood flowing freely from Bonnie’s nose as he celebrated by raising his hands victoriously above his head, father and Blinders crowding him to pat him on the back and exchange congratulations. But none of that mattered. It was just faint ringing in the background. All he could see was you stood a fair way back from the celebrating men climbing over the limb body on the ground no one had seemed to care too. He looked upon your innocent doe eyes and soft smile staring back at him as he blew you a kiss; and never has he been so desperate to get away from his own party.

🥊And after a good few hours and countless attempts to get you all to himself, you were back in Bonnie’s humble beginning: laid on your back as your boy thrust into you gently, trying not to hurt you while simultaneously trying to adhere to his desperation for you. “Faster Bon, please.” “Wanna give me a child? Is that it?” He asks and you nod meekly, as he quickens his pace desperate to bed his maiden in his own place called home.

Isaiah♟️

♟️Isaiah had been trying to get to you for many many years. Countless attempts proving fruitless from not only your rejections, but also your elder brother’s: Finn’s. Any time Isaiah had any suggestion on courting you he was shot down by his friend, who’d smack the back of his head and scold him for thinking such things. “I’ll cut your dick off and shove it in your ear if you keep thinking about my sister with it” he’d tell him.

♟️But tonight, oh tonight. Darling you looked ravishing. The Blinders were celebrating a grand festivity at Shelby Manor, someone was getting married.. or someone was dead, Isiah needn’t have cared less. Because when you cascaded the stairs, Mary Jane’s on foot and tight black dress clung to your bodice, Isaiah had to physically refrain himself from grabbing you from the get go.

♟️Sure, he’d mingled with others and drank freely with the brothers; but not once did he stray his eyes away from your figure, never letting you out of his sight. Not when you looked so delicious and drinkable, mouth running so dry he’d have to reiteratively lubricate it with whiskey. A bit of the good ole’ ‘Dutch-Courage’, aye?

♟️Finally noticing an opportunity when you brother wasn’t lingering over your shoulder, scolding you for wearing such a gown, Isaiah made his move. He slivered to the bar beside you, where Harry was offered a well-paying job serving for the evening and told him to get you another of whatever it is that you were drinking. “Your brother lets you wear a dress like this?” He questions, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and hailing for another.

♟️“No. But I am not Finn and he is nor I” you tell him, nursing the edge of your glass with your finger absentmindedly trailing it. He leant closer. “Tell you, if you were my woman that dress would be on the floor of my room right about now.” He promised and you shivered at the thought. “But I’m not your woman, am I Isaiah?” You rhetorically ask, sipping and please to feel the alcohol running down your throat.

♟️“Oh god if you were.” He said, trailing off. “I’d have you married, knocked up, never not pregnant. Have your last name Jesus. My dad would do the ceremony, y’know. Get you a nice little bouquet and pretty white dress I get to ravish you in afterwards.” He said “well you’ve got it all planned out, huh Mr Jesus?” You snort but you are backed against the bar, two hands either side of your waist as your belittled by the taller between you.

♟️“Believe me I’ve dreamt of the day since I first saw you, just your fucking brother wouldn’t let me.” You eye his lustful expression. “As I said, Isaiah. I am not my brother, nor is he I.” You repeat slowly, relaying that your older sibling(s) had no say in what was going on at that moment. “You’re playing with fire, little girl” he warned “then let me get burned” you say, batting your eyelashes doe-like and innocently, as you dared him to make the move your core had been dying for for decades.

♟️His nostrils flare as you wrap his tie around your hand and yank at it harshly, bringing an ear close to your lips to offer a promise never before foretold. “Isaiah I’m a virgin” you whisper, before releasing his tie and straightening his suit. He follows the lump in his throat before surveying the room once and looking down at you, grabbing your hand to drag you through the crowds of people and into the safe proximities of his bedroom for newly discovered events.

♟️The evening died down and the chatter faltered, as Thomas Shelby announced a new betrothal in the family. However he was unable to promise the two, because the bride and groom were missing.

Michael🎱

🎱Oh god I’ve been waiting for this one. Michael absolutely eats that shit up.

🎱You and Michael were first acquainted when himself, Thomas and John travelled to the Cotswolds in order to engage in some legal business with the Wentworth family - Tommy spoke business with the ceo of the family, while John entertained the mother and Michael; the daughter.

🎱Michael was an old fashioned man with old fashioned views. He liked his women obedient and untouched and willing to listen to his every word - just like they were supposed too.

🎱They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.

🎱“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”

🎱“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.

🎱“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.

🎱“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.

🎱“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.

🎱“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.

🎱“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.

🎱“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.

🎱“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.

🎱“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.

🎱“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.

🎱“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”

🎱After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.

🎱The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.

🎱“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”

🎱Before either of you really knew it the two were being wed on the great estate of the Wentworth Mansion, both smiling at each other at the end of the aisle like giddy school children with a secret. Within the hour you were husband and wife and Michael had the life and wife he had so hoped and dreamed for.

🎱The reception was a glamorous event; dancing and drinking and the celebration of you being safe, and the Shelby name moving up in the social hierarchy of local reputation. Yourself and Michael had snuck off for a moment alone with one another, to discuss the whirlwind of a day and plans moving forwards together. “May I say my darling you look absolutely divine.” He comments, taking your hand to make you do a full 360 turn to display your attire to him. He swore the dress was adorned entirely in Tiffany crystals. “Thank you, you are too kind.” He tuts “I can never be too kind to my wife.” He smiles.

🎱“And may I be so reckless to say I cannot wait to get this dress of you either” he smirked and you raised your brows as your cheeks reddened. “If that is no problem of course, my lady?” He confirms and you nod. “I apologise for my experience, for I have never before been with a man.” You admit, bashfully and his mouth ran dry. “Never?” You shook your head in confirmation. “Never, Michael.” You say and he gleefully picks you up to spin you around as you laugh at his response. “Well my darling, I hope you know I am prepared to take more than good care of you this evening. And of course continue the family name.”

Finn🎞️

🎞️You were the first girl Finn really cared about. Sure, he’d been on dates and hired whores to satisfy his desires. But he’d never really given much thought into actually taking his time with a girl. Until he saw you working at the bookshop two streets in the wrong direction from the Garrison.

🎞️Him, Isaiah and Bonnie were basically being little shits on the streets of Birmingham when he’d saw you organising shelves through the window, brow furrowed and tongue slightly protruding from your lips as you struggled to place an old hardback on the top shelf. The other two lads had carried on walking whereas Finn had stopped, the other two halting a few ways down to road to figure out where their third had gone, turning to see him awestruck at the bookshop window.

🎞️They hurried back, laughing at the boy who was notably illiterate. Finn could not read, nor write but was staring into the bookshop. “What y’ doing Finn? No picture books in there!” Isaiah joked, straining to see what Finn was so intently staring at. “Ah the girl” Bonnie elbowed him. “She won’t want you mate.” Isaiah informed him “she’s got Shakespeare and Wordsworth. You don’t even know who I’m on about.” And Isaiah was right. You did look dignified and well read because you were. And he was just Finn.

🎞️But he found himself two street in the wrong direction every day nearly, at least when he could find time to slip away. And Isaiah and Bonnie were sick of their lovesick friend ditching them to stare at a stranger awkwardly through a window. Then one day, when the three were repeating their galavant from the first time they saw you, Isaiah shoved him in the door.

🎞️The bell chimed and you turned from your stepladder “just a minute!” You climbed down and approached the disheveled boy at the door. “Can I help you?” You ask “book” he says and you crease your brows “…book?” Isaiah chimed in behind him “he wants to buy a book” he confirms as he smacks Finn around the back of the head. “Any book in particular?” “My first alphabet!” Bonnie exclaims, and the two boys begin cackling loudly and Finn grits his teeth and pushes the two out of the door.

🎞️“Eh what do you recommend?” He asked, scratching the back of his head and his eyes wander on all the paved backs of untouched literature. “What do you like? Fiction? Non-fiction?” Finn looks at you gone out. You look around for a simple poetry book you know is easy to understand “here, try this it’s one of my favourites” Finn nods and turns the book over in his hands and has a quick flick through. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, pushing his hand into his pocket. You shake your head “just come back and exchange it once you’re done.” Finn nods. He could do that. He thanks you and begrudgingly heads out the door to his friends who were still hounding him for the situation and he just smiles at you through the window.

🎞️Finn was getting ribbed week in and week out by both his friends and older brothers, Arthur drunkenly questioning in front of everyone why he hadn’t hired any whores recently and why books were appearing by his bed when he couldn’t read. The family laughed as his face reddened, Isaiah explaining that the lovely young lady down the bookshop had his interest peaked.

🎞️“Y’got her in bed yet?” John asked with a smirk and the younger boy elbowed him sharply. “No.” He mumbled. “No? Ol’ ‘just want a shag’ here hasn’t gotten a lady in bed?” His brother joked. “No she’s not the kind of lass I want to put off.” “Ah” Tommy ruffled his hair. “She’s the real deal then?” He smiled while lighting up another cigarette. Finn thought for a moment before nodding. Yeah, you were the real deal.

🎞️“Date” Finn said as he crashed through the door of your bookshop. You raised a brow at him. “Date with me, please.” He says, panting. “Finn are you alright?” You ask, placing a hand on his back. Me nods, heaving and placing his hands on his knees. He’d just ran here from being with his family. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked when he’d finally gotten his wind back. You smiled and nodded. “Yes I would Finn, when?” “Now.” You raise your brows. “Right now?” “Yeah. If you’d like.” You look down at the dainty wristwatch you were wearing and decided it was wishful thinking if you thought that you were going to get any more footfall in the next hour before you closed. You hummed and nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”

🎞️Finn took you to one of the nicest restaurants in Birmingham in walking distance, waiter seating you quickly after he noticed who Finn was, handing the two of you two open menus. You looked over the options, but was soon distracted by Finn’s conflicted face. “You alright, Finn?” He nods. “What’s up?” He ponders for a minute before mumbling something. “Sorry?” “I can’t read and this has no pictures.” He admits sheepishly, averting his eyes from yours.

🎞️“You can’t read?” You ask, mulling over the past several weeks where you’d be too-ing and fro-ing with Finn with your book recommendations. “But you’ve been borrowing books for months-” “just to see you.” He says, looking down as a smile began to grew on your lips. “I understand if you want to leave. You’re smart and pretty and I’m just an illiterate gangsta.” He says, mentally readying himself for your leave. You placed your hand on top of his where it was laid on the table. “Finn that’s so sweet.” His brows shot up. “You did that for me?” You ask, biting your lips as he affirms your question. You place a chaste kiss to his cheek as you realise just how much the blinder truly cared about you.

🎞️“Let’s get out of here.” You say, breaking the silence. “Seriously?” He asks, moving closer for a more private conversation. “I’m serious. Let’s go.” You say, “really? We don’t have too if you don’t want too-” “Finn Shelby. Let’s go.” And you didn’t have to tell him again, running back home like two giddy school children, hiding away in his room for the rest of the evening, ended by you laying on his bare chest while he drew shapes into your relaxed shoulder.

🎞️“That was better than I expected for my first time.” You admit, staring at the ceiling. It takes a few minutes for Finn to clock onto what you’d just said. He looks down at you, movement of his thumb faltering. “You were a virgin?” He asks, lump in his throat growing as he forced himself to swallow it. “Yeah.” He smirks.

🎞️“Nice.”

[mushroomseb]

Cillian Murphy and Tom Hardy as TOMMY SHELBY and ALFIE SOLOMONS ⌙ Peaky Blinders (2013-2022) | 2.06

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Alfie noticing that guys who are way younger than him (like Michael? John?) having a thing for reader, who is close to age to these young gentlemen but has only eyes for ol' man Alfie? Thoughts?

Near Deadly Sin

Alfie Solomons x F!Reader; fluff

AN: IM BAAAAACCCCKKK hello my loves it’s taking me forever to write again but I’m glad to be back. I miss you all and hope you all are doing well!!! MUAH - Mo

No. No this acidic flame burning between his ribs is not jealousy.

Not at all.

The embers stoked in his chest. The flames licking up his neck and around his ears. These are normal… manly… sensible reactions.

Alfie had been invited for ‘drinks’ with the Shelbys. He had refused adamantly, and was only coerced upon your promise to accompany him and to never. leave. his. sight. As if you would ever be far from him or out of his thunderous gaze. But as he is sitting across from Thomas and Arthur and Polly, he is regretting ever bringing you near this nonsense. This den of wolves and snakes. The murmurs of Thomas faded like the crackle of a radio as he focused in on John Shelby’s lustful gaze over you. With every sweep of his young and unbridled eyes and suck of his teeth, Alfie became more and more enraged. Not that you noticed. You didn’t notice John’s roving eyes or the quickening pulse of your husband next to you. You were content sipping the tea Polly served, making quiet conversation with Ada in the corner, holding a babbling Karl.

Alfie knew there was supposed to be a deal or something tonight. Or maybe an update on a job. Or something. It didn’t matter. Fuck the business. Fuck the Shelbys. Fuck John Shelby. Fuck it all. Standing quickly, pushing through the screaming pain of his back, Alfie grunts, “Darling get your coat. We’re done here.”

Your head spun, “Meyn Likht?”

“Up. Coat. Now. Cyril needs us.”

You press your lips in a firm line. Holding back your tongue from lashing at him for his impromptu exit. You knew what he actually meant. Thinking of Cyril was his code for indicating murderous intent that needed to be snuffed out immediately. You watch Alfie as you slip on your coat, going to Thomas to whisper something just out of your reach. Had you heard him, you would have heard the volcanic timber of his voice promise, “You control that little brother of yours Tommy yeah? It’s against holy law to look at another man’s wife like he been doing. Will have to go back to Mosaic law if he don’t shape up.”

With heavy stomps he approaches John, who is trying yet failing to keep a stone expression. “You keep them eyes to yourself little boy. Or someone may just take ‘em from you.”

“Darling? Cyril needs to be let out and will not wait for you!”

With a firm pat on the cheek Alfie turned away, gripping your waist firmly, hand as hot as a brand on the skin under your dress.

-

It’s late now, Alfie is fuming under the crisp sheets and thick quilts layered living on the soft bed. He’s pretending to read. Putting on his glasses and taking them back off again to stare at the ceiling. You emerge from the bathroom, face flush from the hot water, and hair pulled away from your bare shoulders. Arms crossed across your chest, you sit on Alfie’s side of the bed, “You want to talk about it like a grown up now?”

He huffs and shifts lower into the bed, as if to hide from you. With a shrug you walk back to your side, shuffling your sock feet across. You crawl back in bed, back to Alfie to let him fume. It was better than fighting with him to get him to share his feelings.

“He was looking at you.”

“Well Karl is a baby darling.”

“Not Karl! John fucking Shelby! Little bastard was undressing you with his eyes! And you said nothing!”

Ah… there it was.

You let yourself sit up to look at your husband’s face. Folded up into himself, glasses precariously balanced on his nose, cheeks ruddy from rage. Jealousy was his greatest sin and vice. Bigger than rage. Bigger than his love of rum. He was an only child and as such he grew into a man who did not like to share. Not even your image. You curled up next to him, like a cat preening for attention. “Meyn Likht… I didn’t even see him. You shouldn’t be jealous of a figure of vapor.”

“What you don’t notice the… the young men just staring at you? Gapped mouths like dead fish?”

“Those children?” You hum, gently kissing his scruffy jaw and temple.

“Those… men closer in age… to you.”

With that you crawl into his lap, looping your arms around his broad shoulders. “Darling… what could I do with those men? I’d break them.”

“Break them?” He chuckles, gripping you tighter.

“They’re too soft. Too pretty. No. I like my men… rougher… more sturdy… someone who can stand strong and not worry about their pretty face getting dirty. I like my old man.”

“Do you now?”

“Love him even. Deliriously in love with him. Couldn’t live without him.”

Before you could take another breath, he was on you, kissing all over your face, tickling you with his rough beard and mustache. “Good Lord woman you make me feel 20 again.”

[dandelionfool]

something about how tommy is able to defuse alfie's aggression on various occasions when he gets all wound up and angry (russian vault scene my beloved). whereas i would think if the roles are reversed, the absolute best alfie could offer is a combination of uncertainty and arousal.

[daemonsdarksister]

NO FOOOKING FIGHTING

Tommy Shelby - Peaky Blinders

[impossibleheartflower]

[charliehoennam]

gentle giant

Summary: The Solomons enjoy quality family time with their young baby daughter as per request by @j23r23

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!reader

Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of pregnancy and natural childbirth, oc!daughter, hints at smut

SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG.

"She can't even play with that yet, Alf. She's too small" you told him when he brought home a large and lavish dollhouse, carried up to your daughter's nursery room by a couple of his men.

"Course she can't now. But, she will someday. Nothing but the best for my little Laura."

You chuckled and shook your head at his excitement, deciding to let him be happy because he genuinely was.

He has never been prouder of anything in his life.

It was needless to say that Alfie wasn't like most fathers of the time. Every day, you woke up feeling blessed and fortunate enough to be his wife.

Now, you are the mother of his child. Of his first born princess that he was already spoiling with all the finest little clothes and toys.

It's been a few months since you'd brought Laura into the world and Alfie's pride radiated as if he'd just learned he was going to be a father. Having expected the high of newfound fatherhood to fade away with late night nappy changes and early morning hungry cries, you were surprised to find that he was still so thrilled about being a father.

Not only was he proud of his little Laura, but he was still amazed beyond comprehension at your body.

During the pregnancy, he constantly marveled at the growing bump in your belly. Alfie was no fool; he understood perfectly well how a woman's body works, yet it was still the greatest miracle to him.

He never stopped calling you a Goddess for having the power to create life.

The birth of your daughter left him complete ecstasy.

Most men, especially in Jewish traditions, it was uncommon for the father to be present in the room for such a thing. But, then again, Alfie was no common man. He was always far from ordinary.

He insisted on being present to watch the miracle himself.

You'd talked about it before and assured him the midwives would take care of you. After all, he had hired the best staff to take care of you before, during and after the pregnancy.

He still continue to insist on being present - as long as you were comfortable with his presence - to watch his beloved daughter come into the world. He would've brought her out of you himself if only he knew how.

You wondered if it might have been instigated by the jealous thought of having a doctor between your legs.

You were more than grateful that he had insisted so strongly because you truly believe that, if it hadn't been for his motivating words and endearing support, you couldn't have done it by yourself.

Alfie had never cried so much in his entire life as he did when he first heard Laura's cries. You knew right away that Laura would have him wrapped around her wrinkly little finger.

And you were right.

It's late evening when Alfie comes home from an exhausting long day of work.

After hanging his hat and coat, he greets his favorite dog and heads off to search for you and his little Laura only to find you naked in the luxurious porcelain tub of your bathroom with your young 6-month-old daughter, sharing a warm bath.

"Well, ain't this a sight for sore eyes, eh?" he smirks from the doorway.

His heart warms as he sees your eyes light up.

"Baths always help her sleep better."

"Can't blame her," he nods unbuttoning his shirt. "Any room for me?"

"There's always room for you."

Of course there is. You hardly get much time to spend with your husband. The absence has him yearning for his family just the same.

He sinks into the opposite side of the tub with a tired groan, raising the water level to your swollen breasts.

"Give 'er here. Give 'er to poppa."

You carefully handed your daughter over to his hands.

Alfie holds her against his naked burly chest, kissing her head and cheeks as he informs her how much he's missed her in the softest tone.

"Daddy's missed you so much, princess. Yes, I have. Barely got see my little angel today. But that's alright, yeah? Poppa's here now, ain't he? You been good for your mother? Behaved yourself?" he questions as if she could respond, taking the small bowl to fill with water before gently pouring it over her back.

You watch leaning back against the porcelain, and admire the vulnerability of the big bad Alfie Solomons.

The word that spread around only spoke how cruel and cunning he was; of the horrors he was capable of and enjoyed inflicting upon those who betrayed him.

Yet, only you know how he could be the complete opposite. This version of him was for your eyes only and, for that, you felt blessed.

With his large hand cupped over Laura's little bare bum, he smiles as he relishes in the sounds of her giggles emitted every time he pours water over her back.

"Yeah, you like that, eh?" Alfie chuckles. "Want another go?"

She squeals happily as he repeats the action, excitedly pulling at his burly chest hair.

He yelps as he tries to unlatch her tiny fingers from his hairs.

"Got the grip of the Devil, don't she?"

"Tell that to my hair. Have to keep it up all the time so she doesn't turn me bald" you smile at him.

She giggles more enthusiastically as she pulls at them again.

"Ow! Laura, I am your father, young lady" he playfully chastises her.

"I think she takes after you."

"How so?"

"She enjoys hurting others."

"No, I enjoy hurting those who deserve it. I done nothing to deserve this" he chuckles at you.

"That's nothing compared to her biting my tits. If you think she's got hands of the Devil, try her teeth."

"They're starting to come in, innit?" he asks gently pulling her chin down to examine the two little white spots on her lower gums. "You never complained when I nibbled on them" he continues shooting a smirking glance at you.

"That was different" you chuckle back.

"I can be gentle" he replies with a wandering gaze at your chest.

"No. They're sore as fuck, Alf. They're off limits tonight."

"They're irresistible, they are. Fucking tripled in size, innit?" he chuckles. "Fucking 'ell, love. God is a cruel bloke, He is."

You laugh shaking your head. Alfie never fails to make you feel like a goddess, despite the worries you had about your changing body. It was exactly uncommon at the time for men to lose interest in their wives after pregnancy.

You'd seen many women go through it and you feared your fate would've been the same.

Thankfully, pregnancy had the opposite effect on Alfie. He was already eager to get started on the second child.

"All I'm saying is Laura will need a sibling when she's older."

Alfie's debating continued even after your shared bath. You're trying your cotton robe closed as he carries Laura into your bedroom where you had laid out her sleeping clothes beforehand.

"You say that all the time."

"Doesn't it make it less true. Besides, the fun part is trying."

Laying Laura down on the bed with a smirk, he stands upright and faces you.

The way he holds your waist has you melting under his touch. You take advantage of the moment to admire his details.

The wrinkles on his forehead, the disheveled light brown locks shining in the warm light of your room, the hairy tuffs that were peeking out from his robe.

You slide your palms up his strong arms until they rest on the back of his neck.

"Alright. I'll put her down for bed and we can have some fun time of our own" you smile sweetly at him.

His plush lips - hidden in his bushy brown beard - spread widely with mischief and excitement, infecting you with arousal as they made their way to press against your own.

You kiss him deliciously, letting his hand rest against your soft cheek. His tongue flicks against your bottom, already begging for entrance. You allow him it.

The kiss is more than enough to fuel the fire already sparked inside, in the depth of your cores. But you're both brought back to reality when Laura tiredly whines and rubs her sleepy eyes, kicking her chubby legs in the air out of frustration.

You part from Alfie's loving hold on you and bend down to scoop Laura up into your arms, assuring her everything is alright in gentle whispers.

Alfie watches how your loving nature is quick to soothe your fussy daugther in admiration. He loves watching you with her. His wife with his daughter in arms. His family.

All the words in every language would never be enough to describe the joy and pride you bring out in him.

Getting Laura to fall asleep is hardly a challenge. She was already tired from the long day and from staying up a bit past her bedtime.

Once you get her warmly dressed for the night, you sit in her nursery's rocking chair to give her one last feed.

She latches onto your nipple quickly, staring up at you with big doey eyes. The mixture of blue and gray remind you of Alfie. Her long lashes flutter as she slowly blinks, suckling for milk as she holds your index finger in her tiny hand.

You hum as you let her drink her fill, hoping to lull her sleep.

She can't resist the building sleep no matter how hard she tries. At this point, she's not even trying to drink anymore. Her eyelids grow heavier with every blink.

Gently tucking your breast back into your robe, you rest Laura's head against your shoulder as you gently pat her back to burp her.

She tries to fuss about having her favorite source of nutrition taken away, but her exhaustion dominates.

It doesn't her long to fall asleep.

Before setting Laura in her crib without stirring her too much, you kiss her head and thank the universe for blessing you such a precious little angel to care for and love.

Walking back to your room, you search Alfie but you find he's no longer there. So, you walk down the hall and the stairs in search of your husband, knowing exactly where to find him.

The office door is open as the light shines, providing the only light in the hallway. As you lean in the doorway, you smile and tap against the wooden door.

"She go down alright or put up a fuss?" Alfie smiles looking up at you from his paperwork.

"No fuss tonight. I think she was really tired." You walk into his office with a smile as you make your way towards him. "Now it's time for the grown-ups to have some fun."

Alfie smirks as his chair spins, watching you struct over to his side. His eyes scan over your frame, drinking in the sight of you as you untie your robe, letting the fabric part and shyly reveal your naked body.

"Unless you'd like to stay down here and work?"

He chuckles as he stands and kisses you tenderly, holding your face in his hands as if you're made of the most delicate and precious glass with his rough fingertips gently propping your chin up to make you face him.

"Love, the only work I've got to do is fucking you until you can't walk."

[oscarwildebutwilder]

Did I?

[dyns33]

Family respect

Alfie and his Shelby wife are back for more adventures.

"He's back." was the first thing Ada said to her when she picked up the phone, and that was enough for Y/N to understand who she was talking about.

If she had hardly known her mother, who died when she was young, she had not really known her father well either, while he was still alive.

The relationship between Arthur Shelby Sr. and his family had always been complicated. Long before Y/N was found by Polly when she was still a child, abandoned in an orphanage.

It had been luck or fate that her father quickly spoke of her in a letter sent to his sister, writing that he had made a little mistake during a trip. That was what he named Y/N, his little mistake.

The rest of Shelby didn't see her that way. They had adored her from the moment they saw the girl, welcoming her as if she had always been there, as if they had the same mother, and protecting her against this drunken and tyrannical father.

There was still respect for the elders. This notion was important to the romani, and some therefore found it difficult to completely rebel against the man despite his many faults.

This was especially difficult for Arthur. He admired him when he was younger, and even though he often stood up for his brothers and sisters, he blindly followed him in all his dangerous plans.

He had often gotten into trouble because of their father. Tommy was very angry with him for that.

This naivety was undoubtedly one of the reasons why it was not Arthur who managed the family affairs even though he was the oldest.

He never complained about it. As he followed their father, he followed Thomas without question, recognizing that his little brother was smarter, more stubborn, better at business and discussion.

But the few times their father had passed through Birmingham again, he had criticized this absurd hierarchy, and even if Arthur eventually bowed his head to Tommy, there were always several days when he was at their father's side, ready to believe that he had changed.

“Where is Thomas ?” Y/N asked her sister, because she didn't want to hear more about their father at the moment.

"Probably in one of the neighboring farms, with horses, to calm down and stop himself from shooting someone between the eyes."

"And the others ?"

"Polly is talking to them in the kitchen. She thinks dad wants something. Money probably. He'll leave quickly when he gets what he's looking for. But I'm afraid of what will happen in the meantime."

"I'll take care of it. I'll find Arthur." Y/N promised, because absolutely anything could happen to Arthur Senior, no one would be sad, but leaving her brother was out of the question.

Ollie asked nothing when she ordered him to send his best men to look for her older brother, and to watch what he was doing. He just nodded, calling her "Madam Solomons" with great respect.

According to Alfie, she had seduced the poor boy, as well as many of his employees, the residents of Candem, and even the dog.

"Before, Cyril sat with me by the fire. Now he moans by the door until you come home. Where have you been, love ?"

“You know very well where I was.”

"Damn right. With Tommy, dear Tommy. Tell me, treacle, why are my men outside a bar instead of working, uh ? Because when I asked Ollie, he just shrugged his shoulders, saying that those were the orders, but I didn’t give those orders. Remind me who’s in charge here ?”

“Cyril.”

"Very funny, love. Hilarious. Why are my men following this crazy dog who serves as your brother ?"

Of course Y/N could have told him. It would have been simple, and Alfie would have sighed and muttered insults, because the whole thing was nonsense and he didn't really care because it wasn't his family.

Since it wasn't his family, she decided there was no need for him to know the details.

There was no need for him to hear about her father.

So she simply replied that Arthur was in trouble, which wasn't a lie, and that she was just checking to make sure he wasn't going to end up in prison, or worse.

If he noticed that she was hiding something, her husband accepted it, growling when he saw that she was petting the dog before giving him attention.

Several days passed, and Arthur Shelby Sr did not leave. The whole community was nervous, which made the London underground scene much more dangerous than usual.

So Y/N went by herself to look for her brother in the tenth pub he had visited this week, finding him alone at the counter while their father was talking with some men in another room.

"Little sis ! In my arms !" shouted the eldest cheerfully, hugging her tenderly.

“Come home with me.”

"I can't. Dad needs me for a case. A big thing."

"You know very well how this is going to end. It always ends the same way."

"You sound like Tommy… He's changed this time. He wants to make amends, he has the right for a chance."

"He got more chances than Judas got silver coins, Arthur. Please."

"Y/N ? Is that you ? You grew up, I almost didn't recognize you ! Beautiful. When I think that I saw you as a mistake, I was wrong, right, son ? A charming girl, all men would want her."

In that moment, she saw in her brother's eyes that he knew he had a choice. He could defend her, saying that no one talked about his little sister like that, not even their father. He could also keep quiet, nodding his head and not talking about her marriage.

But he had drunk a lot, and despite all this time he still had resentment towards Alfie, so he opened his stupid mouth.

“She married a Jew.”

Their father turned to Arthur with a huge frozen smile, waiting for a follow-up to this joke, before looking at Y/N again with a darker look, understanding that he was serious.

"… A Jew ? You married a pompous old cheapskate ?"

"Arthur, come home with me." Y/N insisted, trying to ignore everything around her brother.

"He's not just pompous, he's crazy. And a coward. And mean. He can't be trusted. I'm sure he's putting on an act to get to us, holding Y/N hostage."

"Well said, son. It's quite possible that's what happening. They know how to play, those dirty rats."

"Arthur, come home with me."

"I knew right away he was evil. Even before he killed Billy and betrayed us. I don't know why Tommy agreed to work with him again, or give him our sister's hand."

"Thomas has always been less clever than you. They're a bit sodomite, you know ? He was able to seduce several of us for sure."

"No… No, that bastard son of a bitch, I'll kill him."

"Arthur, insult my husband once more and you will never see me again."

The threat caught her brother's attention for a second, like the tears in her eyes, but their father continued to criticize Alfie, and as always Arthur followed him blindly, considering that nothing could happen to him if he imitated his father.

A hand then rested on her shoulder, while she hesitated between crying and hitting him. Alfie's smile was quick, only for her, as he held her close, watching the two Arthurs who were surprised to see him.

Y/N thought he would say something, but he only placed a kiss on her forehead, leading her outside, to the car that took them home.

"… I'm sorry."

"Why, treacle ? Because your father is an asshole and your brother is a moron ? I don't see how this is your fault."

“I’m still sorry.”

"Nothing I haven't already heard. I promise I've never slept with Tommy."

"You are not funny." she whispered as she sobbed, letting the tension leave her body. He muttered that she was probably right as he took her in his arms, not knowing what to do to comfort her.

It was not easy to lose a family member. Y/N had been close to all of her siblings, but Arthur had always been there for her, like she had always been there for him, standing up for him, respecting his ideas, making sure he was okay.

She loved him, but she also loved her husband, and she could not tolerate him being insulted like this. If she said she wouldn't talk to him anymore, then she wouldn't talk to him anymore.

So it was a shock to find him in the middle of her living room the next day, holding his cap with two hands, looking miserable and embarrassed. Y/N almost told him to leave, before seeing Alfie standing in the corner, tapping the ground with his cane.

"Well, come on, mate. The lady is waiting."

"… I'm sorry, lil sis."

“Where is father ?”

"In prison, I think. He organized bets, the coppers caught him. They would have had me if… I mean if…"

"If I hadn't saved his sorry ass." Alfie translated, raising his eyebrows when Arthur growled at him. "Maybe I should have left him, he made you cry after all and I didn't like it."

"Y/N… I'm sorry. Your husband is a cunt, but… But he's not that bad, I think. I see that you're happy and he treats you well. I want you happy. I'll try… If he doesn't deserve it, I won't knock his teeth out."

"Mazel tov ! I'll buy you a drink, brother-in-law, but I don't drink and I want you to leave. Well, come one. Out."

Her husband still gave Arthur time to hug his sister, who accepted his apologies on the condition that he finally stopped following their father in his usual bullshit.

To avoid any problems, she only notice out loud after he had left that he had not winced when Alfie called him "brother-in-law".

“Hangover, probably.”

"Or he considers you part of the family now. Normally it's Polly, Tommy, John or me who keep him from completely tripping."

"If you hadn't cried, I would have let him drown in his beer and piss, treacle."

"I wonder how the cops knew, our father is often quite secretive. He moslty ruins everything by wanting more money or insulting someone."

"Oh. Someone who looks like Ollie may or may not have called the police on orders from their boss." Alfie muttered, pouting a little.

"… Arthur will kill you if he finds out."

"He said you were a mistake. Nobody says my wife is a mistake. Would you rather he be in jail or at the bottom of the Thames ? Now I'm sleepy, love. I've been running all night to find your stupid brother, come to bed with me."

“It’s nine in the morning.”

"So what ?"

The only true thing her brother had said was that Alfie was insane, but that wasn't a bad thing. His madness was charming, tender and funny, and if one day they had children, he would be the most protective and caring father in the world.

You only had to see him with Cyril to be sure, even if he slammed the door in the dog's face to be alone for a few hours, only letting him in because he couldn't concentrate anymore. cause of the squealing.

"There you go. Before, he stayed on the ground, now he jumps in my place to press against you, while it's me who opens the door for him despite the cold and my poor back."

“Shut up Alfie and go back to sleep.”

"It is noon."

"Come here."

"Very well, damn woman. You will explain to my men why I was not at work."

Since they had all heard about Y/N's family troubles, they adored her, and were quite happy that the boss wasn't there to yell at them, no one asked Y/N why Alfie had been absent. They even gave her flowers, which greatly annoyed the King of Camden.

They didn't ask if he wanted flowers too. The Shelby sent him some gifts, bottles, money and a horse, without having to say why, and Alfie was in a weird mood for the rest of the day.

Y/N only smiled, knowing that he was lost but proud to be accepted by her family.

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Physical Preferences for (Michael Gray, Luca Changretta, and Alfie Solomons)

Warning: mentions of weight, body types, and gendered language. This is not intended to body shame and are all merely head canons.

- Michael is a tricky one because he cares a good deal about his image. He likes to dress well, he likes to live luxuriously, he likes to present himself as a gilded God. It seems only natural that his wife would be a woman like Gina; tall, blonde, and glamorous. That said, his attraction to her may have more to do with her confidence than just looks. If a woman can carry herself with unshakable self-worth and power, Michael is bound to buckle. However, it's worth noting that he doesn't mind a woman taller than himself and is clearly very attracted to his wife... even when she's being very, very bad.

- Luca enjoys softness. He’s not a huge fan of flappers with their loud dresses and sharp haircuts. A lady with soft curves, long hair, and a body that implies she likes to rest: That’s what he likes. And yes, that means Luca would tip his hat to a lady with a bit more around her waist. Not just the girls lucky enough to have an hourglass figure. He likes dark hair, darker skin tones, maybe a redhead but mainly women with black or brown hair. 

- Alfie will say, “Jewish,” if you ask him what his type is. In reality, his type of woman (regardless of religion) is vaguely unhinged and with a bright smile. Big thighs are also appreciated. A jewish woman with big thighs, a bright smile and grand sense of humor is always on his list when his mother makes him meet with the matchmaker. Alfie is a man undaunted by size or shape, his partner would still need a thick skin though as he will reference their looks to others in his odd way of speaking. He will never, ever insult them purposely. If a stranger or friend were to insult his lady, they would be missing their jaw shortly. 

[ninja-potato-shelby-solomons]

#dirty minds worldwide

[warnersister]

“The silent treatment” Alfie Solomons x Reader

Alfie Solomons x Wife!Reader

You can’t stay mad and quiet at him forever, at least not if he can help it.

You looked Alfie in the eyes before you shook your head and turned around, walking away from your husband. “Where are you going?” You stayed silent, walking up the stairs to get yourself ready for bed. He creased his brows and followed closely behind you. “You can’t just stop an argument by not talking.” You didn’t even acknowledge him, just undoing the back to your dress and allowing it to fall to the floor; unclipping your hair from your updo and letting it fall.

Alfie felt offended: that was his job; you always let him take down your hair.

“Ziskeit, the silent treatment isn’t the way to go about this.” He told you, but you just wandered off to put your slip dress and slide into bed. Alfie was still stood in the doorway in disbelief, watching as you went on about your day as if you didn’t live with your husband of three years.

“Poppet-” click the lamp beside your bed turned off and Alfie’s jaw was on the floor, tutting at you. How dare you? He went about his own nightly routine, trying not to seem wounded by his lack of goodnight kisses and giggles as he’d tickle your neck with his beard. Eventually, he laid beside you and put an arm around your waist but it was shrugged off. “Look treacle I don’t care how fucked off you are with me, right. But I should be able to sleep comfortably with my wife.” He said, gruffly into your ear; moving again to replace his hand.

Again, you’d pushed it off. “Fucking unbelievable. Cant touch my own wife.” He’s grumbled, turning over and crossing his arms to try to force himself to sleep angrily when all he really wanted was your embrace on a cold night.

The next morning, he’d woken up to you doing your hair at the vanity he’d bought you for your last birthday. He’d walked over and pecked your cheek. “Morning ziskeit” he said and you said nothing, didn’t even look at him. He sighed exasperatedly. “Still doing that are we.”

He put his hands on the back of your chair and leant down to look at you in the mirror. “Real mature of you this, poppet.” He told you, taking the hair in the pony tail and wrapping it around his hand. “Knew I’d married a younger woman when we said our vows but didn’t realise I’d married a little girl.” He tugged the hair sharply. “Perhaps you need daddy to reeducate you, hmm?” You looked back at him in the mirror and shivered, and for a moment he’d thought he’d won. You just picked up the nice little expensive perfume bottle he’d bought you and sprayed it twice on your neck, getting him straight in the face. He just huffed and let you be. You couldn’t continue this forever.

He trudged down the stairs and went to make you both some breakfast, simultaneously tightening jars and putting cans higher than he knew you could reach, placing a plate in front of you when you’d arrived downstairs. But before you could even look at it, Alfie had wagged his finger at you. “Only girls who use their manners get fed.” He said and you narrowed your eyes. He took your chin in a hand and hummed at you as though speaking with a disobedient child. “Hmm? So? You going to ask politely, ziskeit?” You clenched your jaw and swatted the hand away once more, standing to go feed Cyril.

It went on similarly for the rest of the day, you trying to open things, to no avail - just for your husband to swoop in like some saviour and offer to do it “if you just say please” to which you’d throw the jar in the bin. Or when you’d stretch go grab something high up, even trying to climb on the counter, feeling hands on your waist “I’ll give you a hand, just have to ask, treacle.” And you’d jump down.

And it was like Groundhog Day as he found himself in the same position he was in yesterday. “Please loves, just need to hear your voice I’m sorry.” He’d pleaded, watching you undress ready for bed. “Right-” he’d grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, barely any garments covering your dignity. He gently dropped you on the bed and settled himself between your legs, ripping your undergarments off as he looked up at you “let’s see how long you can stay fucking quiet”

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Hello madam.

7.  “Oh my god, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard!”

With our feral Alfie of course.

🥰🥰

Can do, love!

Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

To have him rucked deep inside you, while the morning is still lazy, quiet, and still, is the greatest of pleasures. Only the sound of rain softly pattering against the windowpanes is audible above the soft moans, Alfie's occasional deep, lustful rumble adding bass tones, his mouth gliding up your neck in slow exploration.

You cry out, and his kisses suck the breath from you, the tempo slow and rolling, no urgency, nothing fervid. It's like this with him more often than one would expect, the want and need for each other an unhurried chartering into the languidly erotic.

His big body fucks you deep into the mattress, the repeated grinding against your clit making sparks skitter, your hands clasping at the wide planes of his mountainous back, tits heaving beneath the crush of his thick chest. Taking your wrists, he pins your arms, sinking into you deeper, teeth grazing a spot on your neck that evokes the most blissful of glimmers.

It's rolling through you, gaining momentum as the rush hits hard, knocking you sideways, your flutters milking his cock until it jerks and floods you with cum, leaving you as mindless as you are breathless.

"Fucking hell," you pant, finally opening your eyes to see him smirking above you, soft kisses peppering your cheeks as his hands glide down your arms, releasing where he's had them pinned above your head. “Oh my god, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard!”

He rumbles a chuckle, teeth nipping your jaw. "You always say that, until the next time, innit?"

You suppose he makes a valid point.