#alfie solomons hc

[bouncydragon]

Tommy: I love you but what the fuck, Alfie?

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

HCs of Alfie with a younger wife? Like in her mid 20s 💕

Hello my darling!!! I’m sorry this took forever! But I am back!!! Please enjoy this little nugget. Also y’all HCs are so fun!!!! Maybe I should do more.

He wasn’t planning on marrying a younger woman. Let’s be honest he wasn’t planning on getting married PERIOD.

But then you blustered in…

You came in. Full of wisdom so far beyond your age. Full of confidence that came from the knowledge that you were the best you you could be. Full of light that he thought would flee from a man like him.

He immediately was drawn to you. Your soothing voice that brought down his rage, which so quickly could come full force against him when he got too brash and foolish, reminding him that there’s no need to destroy what was not yet broken.

Despite the incurable draw to you, he said he would stay away. Be respectful. Be a respectful old man.

You would have none of it. Because truthfully he wasn’t that old. He was just snippy and preferred his habits. He hadn’t been a young man ever since the war. Regardless what his birth certificate said.

In truth it didn’t take too much to get him to relent. He’s just a man in front of a beautifully infuriating woman. And after a screaming match ending with you laughing at his reddening ears and hoarse voice, he let himself finally say it, “Right then. Now only my woman gets to screech at me like you do. So I’ll see you tomorrow night? Take you to the pictures and maybe dinner?”

And soon enough he asked for your hand, rumors and shaking heads be damned. He needed you more than air, and for some reason you loved him just as much.

Alfie expected his life would change once you were moved into his home. Was only natural. But he didn’t expect to change THIS much.

Or that he would like it. That he would feel like a chasm he didn’t realize he had was finally sealed up and healed with the first morning he woke up to you next to him.

Younger yes. Unorganized you were not. And very quickly upon your arrival did you see the bachelor pad state and work your magic to rectify. To turn this dragon’s cave into an actual home. Curtains and windows finally opened to let in fresh air. Ledgers and letters were filed away. The garden in the back finally being tended to to indicate actual humans lived and loved on the premises.

Remember that Alfie has been a bachelor the majority of his life. Any pretty women which came into his life were quickly shoo’d away. So to say he was puzzled by your… womanly… tools?? Weapons??… was putting it lightly.

“My dove now what the fuck are these? They look like tiny dinner rolls.”

“They’re rollers Alfie! For my hair! Gives it the wave.”

“Right right hair wave rollers yes of course. Now what about these… powders and things?”

“My rouge and lipstick darling.”

He didn’t get it at all.

Though Alfie is partial to opera and the absolute classics, he adores the new music you bring home. His family in Boston adore you immensely and have taken to mailing you the newest records in America.

If you’re extra sweet, you can usually coax him to dance with you, spinning yourself around him in a tizzy. By the end of your evenings he’s drunk without even a single sip of rum.

He’s never been so happy. So care free. But there is this nagging feeling in his stomach. One that won’t go away. That maybe you’re not truly happy. That you’re secretly wishing to be back out with the young people. To go out dancing in pretty dresses instead of in the living room in your dressing gown. To be fawned over in illustrious restaurants instead of cooking dinner together most nights. Had he robbed you of your youth simply because he’s selfish?

He never tells you this. No being a man means keeping your feelings inside and not letting your woman see you less than perfectly confident. (His words not mine)

But you read him so easily. It’s easy when you love someone so completely. Especially if your lover gets the deepest scowl on his face when he’s troubled, staring deep into space.

When you finally coax him out of him, he merely grumbled like a shifting mountain, trying to brush it off.

But oh how he wished he told you sooner. You assure him that you never really enjoyed the clubs and high society outings. You much preferred to stay home with your friends and other loved ones. What could possibly be out there that could even come close to what you have in the house.

When you do manage to get out of the house, either to the cinema, walking Cyril, venturing out for dinner, or because you insisted that walking is good for him, he is fully aware of the stares.

Some are… disapproving. As much as they can be towards the King of Camden. But the ones he is most irritated by are the love sick stares of the young men who trail after you. Clearly covetous and stupid enough to be blind to the beast that walks close beside you.

He is shocked you don’t notice. When he brings it up to you, you merely laugh, “Why would I be noticing men staring? The only man I’m concerned with is you.”

That comment makes him smirk wickedly, grasping firmly to your waist as you laughed brightly, swatting his chest playfully when he growls in your ear.

For all your ferocity and fiery eyes, Alfie still dotes on you and frets over you. Little presents are common. He insists on you bundling at the slightest drop of temperature or precipitation. And begrudgingly “permits” you to attend to errands on your own (you and everyone else knows he would never forbid you unless it was truly dangerous. But he loves to rile you up and tease).

You’ll never want for anything being his bride. Nothing is off limits for you. Even if he does make a show of pulling out bank notes, groaning about how his bank account suffers. Even when he’s the one that insists on buying you new things.

He may be the older one, but you are some how so much more wiser and practical. Anchoring him to the present when the nightmares come. Secretly convening with his doctors to heal the deep aches and malaise. He insists you’re magic.

To some it’s unconventional. Your love doesn’t make sense. But to those who truly know, you’re a match made in heaven.

[blakeswritingimagines]

First date

Thomas: He will take you to a nice restaurant and feed you all night. In return, he will ask you about your family, childhood, and life plans. He would also like to know what really makes you smile. He will try to learn more about you and the world you live in so that he can understand you more.

Arthur: He would want to meet at a pub, where you get to know each other, if it's going well then maybe you'd continue the night by going to a restaurant, to a play or something like that.

John: He supposes a nice stroll down to a cool place for lunch or dinner. Then maybe afterward, a walk through the park or something. He likes spending time with the people that he dates so he likes to learn about you and get to know you better. In that way, you can see if you are compatible because of your personalities and goals in life.

Ada: Her first date idea is to go for ice cream, then you can take a walk in the park, and talk about movies and stuff. It's simple but fun! And it's a chance to get to know each other better.

Finn: Go on a picnic with you, he would even make delicious sandwiches and chat while you watch the sunset, or on cloudy days he'll go to the park with you and walk hand in hand and talk.

Polly: A nice cafe over a nice cup of tea, then walk through some gardens, then you could go for dinner somewhere nice and then you could go and see a play in the theatre.

Micheal: He'd take you to the racetracks and see the horses run and maybe gamble a little bit. Who doesn't like a little excitement?.

Isaiah: He'll pick you up from your place and go have coffee and some snacks. Later he'll go for a picnic with some champagne and watch the sunrise.

Bonnie: Taking a stroll near the river and taking a picnic with delicious food while talking and learning about each other and having fun is his go-to.

Alfie: He'd wanna keep it simple. So like a nice romantic dinner, a bit of a drink, and then go out for a nice walk. Maybe go and watch a bit of comedy if that’s your thing. Then end the night off with a bit of cuddling.

[enretrogue]

𝗝𝗔𝗡𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗬 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 (𝟮)

༝༚༝༚ = Black/POC Works ⎢ 24’ Fic Rec M.List

ONE CHICAGO:

Connor Rhodes

Mine — @halsteadlover

Dream Partners — @sjhhemmings

Comfortable — @kiddbegins

Babysitting 101 — @iamwhoami

Emergency Love — @callsign-dexter

Plan — @lcvesjj

Jay Halstead

Kiss It, Kiss It Better Baby — @halsteadlover

Haunted — ^

Night Struggles — ^

Our Little Family — ^

A New Milestone — ^

Under Fire — ^

Shadows From the Past — ^

“Ladies love a guys who’s good with kids” ⎢ Part 2  — @poppadom0912

Uncle and Niece (Platonic) — ^

Love on Ice — ^

30 Hours — @dandelionfairyyy

Halstead’s Favorite Duo — @ballarkeselection

Exciting — @fangirlfrom-hell

CPD Gala — @hereforhalstead

Home — @deanstead

The Way You Are — @loislane41319

PEAKY BLINDERS:

Alfie Solomons

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 7 — @muneca-lemon-steppa

Request 24 — @fandom-puff

Living with Alfie Solomons — @heavencanbeaprisontoo

The Silent Treatment — @warnersister

Luca Changretta

Living with Luca HCs — @heavencanbeaprisontoo

Thomas Shelby

Me Time — @garrison-girl-08

Daddy’s Princess — ^

Tommy Convincing His Wife to Stop Being Angry — @wutheringcaterpillar

Of Bending and Breaking — @call-sign-shark

Mr. Forgettable — @mrkdvidal1989

Time After Time Chapter 14 — @all-mirth-no-matter

Wedding Day — @cillianthinker

When She Laughs, The Heavens Hum a Stun Gun Lullaby — @saintmuses

SONS OF ANARCHY:

Filip “Chibs” Telford

The Last to Know — @kdogreads

Imagine Being Chibs’ Old Lady ⎢ Part 2 — ^

Imagine Taking In the Teller Boys With Chibs — ^

Very Soon — ^

My Dove — ^

Ruin — @bullet-prooflove

No Words — ^

Teach Me How to Ride — @violentdelightsandviolentends

Pussyfooting — @indifferent-depravity

Happy Lowman

Violent Little Thing — @fanficimagery

Your Family Disapproving of Happy — @imagineredwood

Angst to Fluff Prompts — @ravennaortiz

Flash Fic Request — @withmyteeth

Cocoa Wars — @darqchilddaydreamz

Miss Me — @marvelous-slut

Just for Today — @obsessedasusual

Jackson “Jax” Teller

Relentless — @violentdelightsandviolentends

Heatwave — ^

Insomnia — @spaghettificationandpretzels

You Aren’t Meant to Be Back Until Christmas Eve — @rebelwrites

Only Mine — @thisreadswhatever

Fluff Prompt — @youvebeenlivingfictional

I’m Sorry — @pumpkin-writes

Rescued — @garbinge

Harry “Opie” Winston

Nowhere to Be — @drabbles-mc

Stolen Sweater — @i'm-just-a-mississippi-girl

Good Honest Work — @spaghettificationandpretzels

[teddy06writes]

X Reader Fic Masterlist

~~

Dead Poet Society:

General/Unit:

Charlie Daltons Annuel Dead Poets Holiday Party: Halloween Edition Diner Days Everything Falls Apart Study Session Repercussions Dating the Dead Poets HCs

Neil Perry:

Music of the Night Why'd I Guess the Ending? Anywhere... Just Not Home Happiness Here For You A Quiet Moment Everyone But You

Todd Anderson:

Favorite Poet Surprise Cuddle Sessions Friday Night Fun, Monday Meetings

Steven Meeks: Of Little Love Poems, Secret Admirers and Anonymous Notes

Charlie Dalton:

Friends to Lovers Hcs

Gerard Pitts: None yet

Richard Cameron: None yet

Knox Overstreet: None Yet

~~~

The Outsiders:

General/Unit:

Being the Fourth Curtis Brother HCs

Dallas Winston:

Never Fall In Love Again No Matter What Ghost Stories Late Nights By The Fire Oh How The Turn Tables People Watching

Sodapop Curtis:

Golden Too Old? Yeah Right!

Two Bit Mathews:

I'll Try Too Old? Yeah Right! Spooky-est Place On Earth

Darry Curtis:

Pumpkin Spice Everything Hot Tea Heals The Soul

Johnny Cade:

Protective Cool, Calm, and Collected-- Until He Smiles

Steve Randle:

1955 Chevy Delray

Polyam Jally:

Take Me Back to the Night We Met

Polyam Dallypop:

I Told You It Was A Dumbass Plan

~~~

Top Gun: Maverick:

General/Unit:None Yet

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw: None Yet

Jake 'Hangman' Sersin: None Yet

Javy 'Coyote' Machado:None Yet

Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace: None Yet

Robert 'Bob' Floyd: None Yet

Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia: None Yet

Ruben 'Payback' Fitch: None Yet

Polyam Hangster: None Yet

Polyam Bobnix: None yet

~~~

The Bear:

Carmen Berzatto: None yet

Sydney Adamu: None Yet

Richie Jerimovich: None yet

Marcus: None Yet

~~~

Peaky Blinders:

Tommy Shelby:

Can't Sleep?

Arthur Shelby: None yet

John Shelby: None yet

Lizzie Stark/Shebly: None yet

Alfie Solomons:

Interrupted Date Nights Lost Words Win Win

Michael Gray: None Yet

~~~

Star Wars:

Cassian Andor:

Stubborn

Jyn Erso: None Yet

Polyam CassianxJyn: None yet

Bhodi Rook: None Yet

Din Djarin: None Yet

Han Solo: None Yet

~~~

Lord Of The Rings/The Hobbit:

The Fellowship: None Yet

The Company: None Yet

Aragorn: None Yet

Boromir: None yet

Legolas: None Yet

Gimli: None Yet

Frodo Baggins: None Yet

Samwise Gamgee:

Harmony

Pippin Took:None Yet:

Merry Brandybuck:None Yet

Faramir: None Yet

Eomer: None yet

Eowyn: None Yet

Bilbo Baggins: None yet

Thorin Oakenshield:None yet

Kili: None yet

Fili:None yet

Bofur: None yet

Bard Bowman: None yet

~~~

The Umbrella Academy:

General/Unit: None yet

Number Five Hargreeves: None yet

Klaus Hargreeves: None Yet

Diego Hargreeves: None yet

Allison Hargreeves: None Yet

Luther Hargreeves: None Yet

Viktor Hargreeves: None Yet

Lila Pitts: None Yet

~~~

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes: None yet

Sam Wilson: None yet

Natasha Romanoff: None yet

Loki: None Yet

Druig: None Yet

Makari: None yet

Sersi: None yet

~~~

The Breakfast Club:

General/Unit:

None yet

John Bender: None yet

Andrew Clarke: None Yet

Brian Johnson: None yet

Claire Standish: None yet

Allison Reynolds: None yet

~~~

More potentially to be added...

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Masterlist & Rules

Feel free to drop a request or ask! I also make OC faceclaims with FaceApp on request.

I write all my OC fics in the second person. I also do x reader fics!

WIP:

-Tommy with a Short but Tough s/o

-Alfie with a curvy s/o

-"Some things just aren't meant for us." Alfie prompt

European OCs:

Maeve Shelby. Sallyanna Gray Devorah Solomons

Prudence Keane Lucinda Briar

Roksana “Roxy” Petrova

American OCs:

Constance Kilroy. Loretta Graves. Bernadette Becker.

Rose Fordney-Turpin

Fics:

Strip Me to My Bones: prologue Ch: 1

The Sun and The Moon: prologue Ch.1

Domestic Hcs:

Arthur - Luca - Tommy - Alfie - Jack

Romantic Hcs:

Age-Difference Hcs (Tommy, Arthur, John, Michael)

Tommy as a Father

Shelby Brothers Preferences

"Not Quite My Type" (Tommy, Arthur, John)

Imagines:

The Other Shelby Girl -Platonic!

Imagine being Jack Nelson's Trusted Secretary

Imagine Rejecting Thomas Shelby

Rules:

No requests for non-con, in-est, or underage. No ageless blogs or minors, PLEASE.

[a-libra-writes]

⚖️🌟Libra’s Peaky Blinders Masterlist🌟⚖️

Please check here if requests are open and what the rules are.

🔪Multiple Characters / Long Posts🔪

Comforting You

You Being Shy

Worrying Over Them

Reacting to Your Scars

Having a Partner Whose a Jazz Singer

Expressing Their Love

Comforting Them

Caring for Their Disabled Partner

Meeting Your Family

Being the Partner of Ada and Polly

The Shelby Brothers Liking the Same Person⭐Part 2

Having a Charismatic/Funny Partner

🔪Character-Specific🔪

NSFW Alphabet - Aberama Gold

Hurt and Comfort HCs - Aberama Gold

SFW Alphabet - Arthur Shelby

NSFW Alphabet - Arthur Shelby

Falling in Love - Arthur Shelby

Jealousy & Intimacy HC - Arthur Shelby⭐Kissing & More Intimacy HCs

Having a Pregnant S/O - Arthur Shelby

A Secret Relationship with Ada's Best Friend - Arthur Shelby

SFW Alphabet - Alfie Solomons

NSFW Alphabet - Alfie Solomons

Caring for Him During WW1 - Alfie Solomons

Dating HCs - Lizzie Stark

Jealousy HC - Luca Changretta

Frightening His Partner - Michael Grey

Having an Artistic Partner - Michael Grey

Intimacy HC - Tommy Shelby⭐Jealousy HC

[rysko]

Peaky Blinders Request Rules/Information

Hiya! I'm opening requests because i feel like it's a cool opportunity to write between my main stories, as well as interact with the fandom more!(Yall are the coolest i swear) Feel free to send an ask with your request if the following rules are okay by you <3

This is also my first time in years that i've done this so bear with me xD

Characters: When it comes to PB, i don't have any no/no's when it comes to writing characters. No matter how niche the character, my brain-rotten ass will analyse them to pieces and try my best to write them. Though, if you know me in any way, i'm especially brainrotten about: Luca Changretta, Alfie Solomons, Tommy Shelby and Arthur Shelby, so requests with them will probably be written faster!

Relationships: Character x readers are fine, and i'm comfortable writing for any gender. Character x Character is cool as well, if the ship has a dynamic, i'll try my best!

Dark fics: YES! I love them.

Smut: I'm not very good at smut imho, so for now, it'll be a no from me, sorry!

HC's/ '[blank] with [blank] would include' type fics: YES!!!

AU's?: I love au's, if you want me to write one, give me as much info as you want, or just give me an au idea and i'll try my best :>

I feel like i covered the most important things, if i missed anything, let me know and i'll answer/add to this post. If i won't be able to fulfill a request, i'll be sure to let you know.

See ya in the AskBox!

[madlittlecriminal]

Alfie Solomons Masterlist

NO REQUESTS FOR SEASON 6! I HAVENT WATCHED IT YET

(*) ➞contains sexual innuendos/light smut

(**) ➞contains smut

(▾) ➞contains angst/trigger warning(s)

(°) ➞authors personal favorites

(…) ➞request

(•) ➞holiday themed

(§) ➞alternate universe (AU)

(≈) ➞headcanons (HC)

(۵) ➞prompts

(❅) ➞blurbs

-Big Bear (…)

[marvelandimagine]

At Ease, Gents

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Annie Murphy (baker!OC)

Summary: Annie finally finds out why everyone in Alfie’s bakery ignores her, and she sets things straight with her boyfriend and his men.

Word count: 1900ish

A/N: This is connected to my HC that Annie ends up knowing even more about Alfie’s men than he does and does things like giving them the day off and Alfie’s like “?!?” or she sends them flowers for births + deaths in the family and all Alfie’s boys would gladly take a bullet for her ok that’s it enjoy!!

—

Annie had only popped by Alfie’s office twice before they started dating: once to get his keys so she could walk Cyril while Edna was on holiday, and once to drop off a heaving “thank you” culinary basket for helping her sort out the bakery’s books after Callum died (“The worst mistake I can make with letters and dyslexia is a spelling error, right, but with numbers, I will doom my entire bloody business.”)

But now, she found herself there much more often, from midday lunch breaks to “surprise” visits brought on after Ollie called her, pleading with her to come by to calm Alfie down (who she would then promptly hear yelling his head off in the background).

And she loved seeing her Alfie, no matter what mood he was in. But she didn’t love how his men were treating her — or rather not treating her. Because no matter who she said hi to or smiled at, wanting to get to know the people Alfie spent most of his time around, it was like she didn’t exist.

And after about two baffling weeks of this, she finally decided to address it with Alfie.

“Do your men not like me?” she blurts out across his desk, and Alfie reluctantly tears his attention away up from the brisket sandwich she just placed in front of him.

“Where’d ya get that idea?”

She sighs, resting her chin in her hands. “I dunno. I mean, I’m friendly, right? But whenever I say hi to any of ‘em, they just ignore me or walk in the complete opposite direction.”

She looks at Alfie expectantly, but he doesn’t seem to share her concern. In fact, he looks pleased.

“Good,” he replies, reaching for his lunch again. Annie narrows her eyes, swatting his hand and pulling his beloved brisket away.

“Oi!”

“What do you mean good? It’s maddening, it’s like I’m invisible! And I don’t understand why-“

But then, the pieces finally click into place in Annie’s head. Virtually nothing went unnoticed by Alfie. And if his men were ignoring her, he knew about it— but he hadn’t addressed it. And there could only be one well-meaning but well-overprotective reason behind it:

“You told them not to talk to me, didn’t you?”

Alfie’s brows furrows as he nods.

“Talk to, look at, breathe the same air as. Yeah. That ‘bout covers it,” he grunts. His ring-clad fingers creep across the desk, and she rolls her eyes and pushes his sandwich back to him. He claps his hands together and normally, she was happy to see him gleefully attack her cuisine, but right now, she was just exasperated.

“Love, c’mon. You talk to everyone I work with! And the lads clearly know I’m off the fucking menu.”

Eyes still closed, savoring his first few bites, Alfie shakes his head.

“Can’t count on it with these cunts.” He finishes chewing and opens his eyes, grabbing Annie’s hand.

“Look, pet, you are a beautiful, brilliant goddess, right, who should have songs dedicated in your blessed name.” His soft tone turns into a growl as he gestures out the window of his office. “But they are a bunch of manky fuckin’ sots, and I don’t want any of ‘em near ya unless I say so.”

Annie sighs. She knew full well that Alfie didn’t know the phrase “half-assed”—whatever he did, he threw himself into it fully. And while she normally appreciated his zeal and tenacity, sometimes, he took things a bit overboard. And banning every single one of his men from acknowledging her presence without prior approval was a prime example.

She walks around the desk and nestles into her usual spot on Alfie’s lap. His strong arms wind around her, and she cups his bearded face with one hand as his stormy blue eyes meet hers.

“1) They can’t possibly all be that terrible. I know I’m shite at maths, yeah, but it’s statistically impossible. And, 2) Alfie, I’m here practically every other day now, and you know how I am, I can’t help chatting.” She pats the side of his head. “Very much like someone else I know. There’s no way I’m never, ever gonna interact with them.”

Alfie chuckles darkly.

“Oh, but there is a way, dove. See, I have found that there are few things on Earth more compelling to men than the threat of getting their balls shot off. Hm?”

“Always with the flair for the dramatic,” she thinks to herself, and decides right then and there to take matters into her own hands.

“Right, I get that you’re being protective. And I appreciate it and you, but you’re also being just a touch mental.” She kisses the top of his head. “But don’t worry, I’ll clear things up.”

“Annie,” he replies, a warning note at the edge of his tone.

“Alfie,” she sing-songs coyly, bringing her lips to his. She can’t help but smirk against him as the kiss works as she intends, feeling Alfie relax underneath her as one of his hands instinctively slides to her jaw. Then, suddenly, he presses her back, hands firmly on her shoulders.

“Nah, nah, I know what you’re playin’ at, love. Tryna get me to forget that fuckin’ look in those gorgeous eyes, the one tellin’ me you’ve got some kinda clever idea brewin’ in that head of yours.”

Annie’s hand flies to her chest, feigning indignation, and now it’s Alfie’s turn to roll his eyes.

“I’m serious, An, don’t ya go stirrin’ up-“

Annie cuts him off with another kiss, then pulls back with a smile.

“Too late,” she brightly. Before Alfie can even blink, she slides off his lap and snatches his cane from the side of his desk in one swift motion, propping it against the doorframe as she strides out — but not before she hears Alfie shout:

“Oh for cryin’ out loud, that’s fuckin’ dirty!”

“You love me!” she calls back over her shoulder, as she walks purposefully down the hall. She knew that if she said she just wanted to talk with him and his workers, he would’ve scoffed and grumbled and refused to leave his office. But now, with the air of mystery about her, she knew he’d chase after her—the not knowing what she was going to do would drive him mad. And that was all she needed.

She walks into the open part of the warehouse and while a few of the men’s eyes flicker up as she enters, they immediately avert their gaze back to what they’re doing. Absolutely ridiculous. Annie waits until she hears the sound of Alfie’s cane against the floor, cursing under his breath, to speak.

“Oi! I need to talk to you lot. That includes you,” she adds in an undertone to Alfie. He scowls as he looks out at the sea of seemingly unaware men, but when he looks back at Annie, giving him her most determined stare, his resolve finally cracks. He runs one hand through his beard and sighs.

“Alright, alright, An. I clearly ain’t fuckin’ stoppin’ ya, so tell us what’s on your mind, love.”

Annie gestures back at the workers.

“Not gonna matter since they’ve taken your word to ignore me as bloody gospel.”

“Fair enough.” Alfie lumbers forward a few steps, his blue eyes turning icy as he scans the room, which has gone as quiet as a church—a silence which Alfie’s booming voice then shatters.

“ARE YOU LOT FUCKIN’ DEAF?!” he thunders, and a handful of workers actually jump. “Fuck knows why, but my Annie wants to talk to you miserable gits, yeah, so best pay some close fuckin’ attention!”

Alfie crosses his arms and glowers, but his voice is as sweet as ever when he turns to Annie.

“Right. Floor’s yours, dove.”

“Thanks, Alf.” She waves out at the crowd of burly men before placing her hand on Alfie’s shoulder. “Hi! So, I know this one has threatened you all with total bloody destruction if you so much as say ‘hello’ to me. But we’ve chatted and the thing is, I don’t want someone getting their balls blown off just because they said hi to me or told me about their kid’s football match that I asked about — not having that on my conscience. I like people, I like talking to people. So we can all-”

She pauses, turning her head to stare pointedly at Alfie, “just relax, yeah? To be clear, the only time you will be in danger of castration from him or from me is if you’re being a prick. So don’t be a prick, and we’ll all get on just fine, with all our body parts intact. Fair enough?”

She turns and looks at Alfie again, who still has his arms crossed, maintaining his posture of bear-like intimidation, but she can tell he’s trying not to smile underneath his beard. He nods, and his men quickly imitate the motion.

“That’s it, then,” Annie says happily. “Cheers, gents.”

She feels Alfie take her hand in his, and the two of them turn and walk out the door.

“Castration by me or you, huh?” Alfie asks, and Annie smiles.

“I figured you’d be more amenable with that addition.”

“Damn fuckin’ straight.” He gives a low chuckle as they walk into his office, and no sooner does it shut does Annie finds herself quickly pushed up against it by Alfie.

Her pulse races as he cups her face in his hands, and she savors the familiar warmth of his palms and the cool touch of rings against her skin. Lets his heady aroma of oak and rum, of sandalwood soap and musk and eucalyptus oil flood her senses.

“You truly are somethin’ else, ya cheeky, captivatin’ creature,” he murmurs, bringing his lips to hers in a deep, claiming kiss that Annie reciprocates, her hands tugging at his vest to bring him against her.

She breaks the kiss and gives him an affectionate bop on his nose, watching the corners of his eyes crinkle as he grins.

“Your somethin’ else.”

“And I’m well bloody thankful for it.”

In the end, the new arrangement suited Annie and Alfie well.

On Annie’s end, she found herself striking up connections and friendships effortlessly as usual, and it also brought her an unanticipated peace of mind in getting to know the men who spent so much time around Alfie — particularly ones like Ollie and Ishmael whose jobs were to have her boyfriend’s back.

And despite Alfie being the one to start the initial no-contact-with-Annie decree, he couldn’t help but melt a little when she’d start going on and on about how precious Ish’s boys were, that she had plans to make babka with Noah’s wife — her big heart was such a big part of why he loved her. And he was pleased that no one dared to get out of line or ever make a move on Annie.

Alfie was also extra pleased that Annie’s ability to make friends so easily had the unintended effect of essentially creating an army of men who viewed her like a sister to protect at all costs. In other words, there was never any shortage volunteers to hang round Annie’s bakery and make sure she stayed safe — which was all Alfie wanted in the first place.

[the-anxious-youth]

ℜ𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱 ℑ𝔫𝔣𝔬

Characters I write for, newest at the top (* means favorites):

One Piece: [Closed]

Buggy*

Nami*

Koby* (I hc Koby as trans bc of @tinfairies (go check them out), but if you want me to write him as amab let me know)

Luffy

Zoro

Sanji

Shanks*

Mihawk

Alvida

Usopp

Helmeppo

House of the Dragon: [Closed]

Aemond Targaryen*

Aegon II Targaryen*

Helaena Targaryen*

Alicent Hightower

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Daemon Targaryen

Jacaerys Velaryon

Harwin Strong

Slashers: [Closed]

Bo Sinclair (House of Wax)*

Vincent Sinclair (House of Wax)

Lester Sinclair (House of Wax)

Thomas Hewitt (Texas Chainsaw Massacre)*

Bubba Sawyer (Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

Brahms Heelshire (The Boy)

Michael Myers (OG and RZ)

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull (Laid to Rest)

Baby Firefly (House of 1000 Corpses)

Tiffany Valentine (Chucky)*

Yautja (Predator)*

Jed Sawyer (Leatherface 2017)*

Johnny Slaughter (Texas Chainsaw Game)*

The Walking Dead: [Closed]

Daryl Dixon

Rick Grimes

Maggie Rhee

Turn Washington’s Spies: [Closed]

John Graves Simcoe*

Ensign (Thomas) Baker*

Benjamin Tallmadge

John Andre

Marquis de Lafayette

Edmund Hewlett

LA Noire: [Closed]

Cole Phelps

Stefan Bekowsky*

Roy Earle

Jack Kelso*

Detroit Become Human: [Closed]

Connor (RK800)

Ralph (WR600)

Nines

Peaky Blinders: [Closed]

Thomas Shelby

John Shelby

Arthur Shelby

Finn Shelby

Johnny Dogs*

Bonnie Gold*

Alfie Solomons

Topics I will write about:

Violence, gore, etc

Dark!Characters and reader

Dub-con

Mental illness

NSFW

I will NOT write about:

Non con in any form

Incest outside of HoTD

Glorification of abuse

Real People

I write reader insert one shots and series, as well as OC works and reactions with multiple characters. I’m honestly pretty open minded so if you have an idea, feel free to ask! Worst I will do is politely decline. :)

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

I LOOOOVE Ur Alfie fics. Could u do just general headcannons about being married and starting a family with him? ❤️

Hi bb!!! Im so glad you like them! I hope you enjoy these HCs, I know I kind of went overboard! Maybe I’ll do a continuation?? Maybe I’ll focus on different aspect of life with him? Idk we’ll workshop it. As always, sending all my love 💕💕💕

Married Life with Alfie Solomons - HCs

In planning the wedding, you initially were planning on a small wedding. Nothing too extravagant, just close family and a party at the house.

That’s what you planned anyway. It grew and grew with every family member that “HAD to come treacle!” Both of your families are rather large and extended. Mixed with business associates that had to be invited for sake of peace… it exploded into a 200 person affair.

Despite the fact that Alfie prefers to not be disturbed, it ended up being a grand affair. Drinks flowed. Laughter was raucous. The dancing never stopped! And there were only 3 fights, which Alfie involved himself in only 2 of them. Needless to say, it went rather well!

But your favorite part of the night above all was when you got home. Still giggling and warm from the party, you’re pulled into the parlor by your darling Alfie. Shirt half done, and hair a disaster, he looks so so handsome. His eyes so soft, he puts on the radio, bringing you in close to him, “Mrs. Solomons… would you give an old man a dance?”

And you do. Song after song, twirling around the parlor, enjoying the life that had a new layer of meaning.

Despite Alfie’s insistence that you shouldn’t keep working because, “No love of mine should be lifting a finger.” You kept your job at the distillery as his secretary and head of the jewelry shop. You insisted to Alfie that keeping your job that still made you feel like your own person, not just Alfie’s spouse.

There was something so intimate and special in waking up every morning with him, walking to the office with him, going through the work day, and coming home with him. If Alfie was clingy before, it had only grown worse since your nuptials. He loved having you near. He never wanted you away from his side.

Though the mornings were sweet, the evenings were by far your favorite with Alfie. Coming home, drawing the curtains closed to hide away in your own little oasis of solitude and quiet.

Instead of leaving you to do all the cooking and cleaning for the evening meal like other men of the time, Alfie stays wrapped close to your apron strings. As you craft a soul warming meal, he stays chopping and cutting, washing up the dishes as you go to ensure that the evening is free of any impediments.

Alfie takes Shabbat incredibly seriously. He is on a strict schedule on those days, and actually forbids you from working on Fridays, to let you prepare anything needed for the Sabbath. Many times your family joins you in your home, and Alfie takes the lead in prayers. Though you didn't think it was possible, your heart grows with adoration each time you watch him quietly go through the ritual. Watching his devotion and care to the faith and your people's history reminds you of the type of man he his.

Marriage with Alfie does not come without some arguments. It is Alfie Solomons. Both of you stubborn and passionate, it’s what makes you a formidable force together, but it also brings some… loud outbursts.

It usually is about whether or not he’s being wise in his decisions. But it also comes out when he thinks you’re not being careful. When a jealous flare rises up in him. Or just when he gets a little snippy.

But it doesn’t take much to make up. Once you and Alfie have let it all out, either one of you will go to the other and bridge the gap. When he’s particularly cross, all it takes is for you to find him in his favorite chair. Lean over the back of it, draping your arms across his neck. “I’m so sorry Alfie,” you whisper in his ear, a particular weakness, “I know you’re just looking out for me. Forgive me?” A few kisses in his neck and he’ll be dragging you into his lap, grumbling about how much of a vicious siren you are.

When you’re cross… Alfie pulls out all the theatrics. He comes to your room where you’ve holed up, seething. He gets on his knees, taking your hand in his, “Awe treacle… have pity on an old man. I’m sorry my love, I am. Don’t punish me too harshly now! Please give you husband a kiss yeah? This life is so short! Let’s not go to bed angry my love!”

And of course you forgive him. How can you not when he kisses you so sweetly, and begs so beautifully.

It will be a few years before you and Alfie have children. Alfie was worried that he wouldn’t be a good father due to his age, but in his heart of hearts he wanted little ones. He yearned to play with the kids on the floor with the dogs. To swing them around in the garden. Watch you be an incredible mother. Though he was afraid, you knew he would be the perfect father.

Once you both confessed your mutual desire for kids, it happened shockingly quickly. But is anyone really shocked? Alfie is determined and disciplined above all else.

Once you do get pregnant, Alfie does put his foot down. You are not coming into the office. It is far too dangerous for you to be coming in around all 'that business'. And Alfie heard from someone (he made it up) that working isn't good for birthing or babies.

He benches you for the entire pregnancy, and brings his former housekeeper Sarah out of retirement to help tend to you.

Every night Alfie would come home with something new for you. Brilliant and fragrant flowers. A sweet from the bakery. A new necklace or bracelet that you just had to have. "Growing a baby is hard work love! Especially with my kids! Big ol brutes growing in there eh?"

Whenever you became shy or uncomfortable about your changing body, Alfie would just croon in your ear, "Oh my love, you are absolutely radiant. An angel from God yeah? No no, a goddess. You're an absolute goddess yeah?" He'll rub your swollen feet as you cry, kissing your ankles as you release your stress and worries about the day.

As you can imagine... naming the baby (or babies as he liked to remind you of the possibility) was an incredible ordeal. No name was suitable.

"No no, he'll get hit. If I knew a little boy with that name in school, I would decimate him." "Now treacle that doesn't even sound good with Solomons!" "Mmm no. I don't like the meaning of the name. Not a good omen." "Can't do that name. I killed a man with that name."

After six days!! You both are able to come to an agreement. Joseph for a boy. Chava, after his mother. In the evenings, Alfie takes to reading to the baby, referring to them by both names. "Alfie dearest, there's only one in there!" "No no treacle. I know they're both in there. You may only feel one, but that's because Joseph is just a little shy ain't you my boy? Chava is going to be a little spitfire, just like her mum. They're in there, I know they are."

At night, Alfie pulls you to his side as he always does, with a protective hand splayed over your swollen belly. It's getting harder for you to sleep at night, so many times you lie awake, staring at your husband, running your own hand over your stomach, feeling the kicks and turns.

The prospect of twins is near impossible. But Alfie... he is so certain. And sometimes... sometimes you feel an extra flutter. An extra bit of energy that is almost missed.

The labor is hard. Long. Your mother comes to help along with Sarah and the midwife, and you had never felt pains like that before. Despite Sarah's admonishment, Alfie pushes himself into the room, wanting to be right next to you the entire time. He never leaves your side, brushing the sweat off your brow, kissing your head, reminding you how strong you are.

After 12 hours of labor, Joseph finally makes his appearance in the world. A large baby, with fat cheeks and long limbs. After a few announcing cries, Joseph settles into the arms of his father, fast asleep after his long journey. Alfie rejoices with you, holding up his son with joy, "Joseph! My boy! Welcome my son!"

You smile, a final sense of relief washing over you, until you feel another push coming.

7 minutes later, Chava comes careening into Earth, as loud as the choirs of heaven. Alfie catches Chava, marveling at how such a little body can produce such a sound. As Alfie cleans her face he just whispers, "This one... she will be an opera star."

Alfie joins you in bed once everything is settled. You spend the rest of the evening in and out of sleep. When awake you and Alfie just take turns holding the babies, marveling in how precious they are. How absolutely beautiful they are. While you sleep, Alfie walks around the house with both in his arms, just talking to them.

“Now you might not know this yet my angels… but you have the absolute best mother in the world. No I know, I don’t know how I got to marry her. But she is perfect. The best. We gotta protect her yeah?”

Alfie is the one who gets up in the night. Doesn’t want you to do more than you have to. And you’re already doing so much. Plus, he feels like he missed so much already, waiting till he was older to have a family and all. He doesn’t want to miss a single moment.

Alfie becomes even more soft and tender with you. Each morning he starts his day worshipping you almost. Telling you how much he loves you, how much he loves your children, how much he would give to protect you.

But he does become more paranoid about the dangers surrounding him. There’s two men posted at the door of the house at all times now, and you aren’t to go anywhere without either him or another trusted member of the gang. Though you fought him on it at first, you relented when you saw the palpable fear in his eyes.

He loves to show off the kids. He’s just so proud. He loves how much they look like you. “Better for them eh treacle? Glad they got the more beautiful out of the two.”

And while they did favor your features, they both carried Alfie’s eyes. Both gentle Joseph and powerful Chava carry that roaring ocean behind those dark lashes that brought you to Alfie all those years ago.

As the years go by, you only grow to love each other more and more. And every risk and every trial is worth the beautiful dream you get to have with Alfie.

[pacifymebby]

https://www.tumblr.com/mensource/721138005869510656/tom-hardy-as-alfie-solomons-peaky-blinders

Ahhhhhh our Alfie man 🥰 He looks so good here I just have to share

🥰🥰🥰🥰 oh I am obsessed with him thank you for sharing :')

Truly made my morning (I finished his part of the HC I'm writing last night but I might just have to go back and write some more now hehe)

[enretrogue]

𝗗𝗘𝗖𝗘𝗠𝗕𝗘𝗥 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 (𝟭)

.☘︎ ��˖ = BLACK/POC WORKS | 23' FIC REC M.LIST

PEAKY BLINDERS

ALFIE SOLOMONS

Destiny — @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away

A Brother For Cyril ⎢ Part Two — @muneca-lemon-steppa

You Love Is Enough — @muneca-lemon-steppa

Evenings At Home — @muneca-lemon-steppa

Good Girl — @ukrainianmotherfucker

Interviews For New Beginnings ⎢ Part 2 ⎢ Part 3 ⎢ Part 4 ⎢ Part 5 ⎢ Part 6 — @muneca-lemon-steppa

Kisses For Bad Days — @muneca-lemon-steppa

Change Of Plans — @muneca-lemon-steppa

Married Life w/ Alfie Solomons HCs — @muneca-lemon-steppa

All Kinds of Trouble — @muneca-lemon-steppa

Overstimulation + Praise Kink — @fandom-puff

Rum and Soap — @dearshleby

Always — @muneca-lemon-steppa

MICHAEL GRAY

Show You How Much I Love You — @roguerogerss

I Can Imagine — @xoxoavenger

THOMAS SHELBY

At the End of the Day — @lis-likes-fics

The Complaint — @look-at-the-soul

Midnight Interlude — @awritesthings1

Gone with the Leaves — @awritesthings1

Numbers — @mrkdvidal1989

Train Left - Moments Passed — @mrkdvidal1989

Ignoble Sins — @cillmequick

Empty Promises — @fallatyourfeet

You Have More To Lose Than You Take — @mrkdvidal1989

Bloodstained Hands — @mrkdvidal1989

Look At Me — @simplyundeniable98

Time After Time Chapter 13 — @all-mirth-no-matter

A Moment of Happiness — @gypsy-girl-08

Christmas Lights — @mrkdvidal1989

First Christmas — @acewritesfics

Eye Fucking Each Other — @mrkdvidal1989

All I Need — @gypsy-girl-08

Promotion — @acewritesfics

No Man Works Alone — @muneca-lemon-steppa

TRIPLE FRONTIER

BENNY MILLER

The Best One — @theewokingdead

Are You On Mute? ⎢ Part Two — @rhoorl

Ask Prompt — @bullet-prooflove

Are You Going To Be Quiet? — @rhoorl

FRANCISCO “FRANKIE” “CATFISH” MORALES

Bluffing Season — @beskarandblasters

Mesmerized — @endlessthxxghts

New Year’s Day — @hellishjoel

My Home Is You — @chronically-ghosted

Stars — @trulybetty

Need You — @endlessthxxghts

Cravings ⎢ Crash ⎢ Insatiable — @pedge-page

Merry Christmas Cariño — @joelsflannel

All I Want For Christmas — @morallyinept

WILL MILLER

When Sleep Comes Easy — @laurfilijames

Just A Little Push — @missdictatorme

Kinktober 2023: Sexual Exhaustion — @gosmigenergy

Clusterfuck — @velicibeewords

All I Want — @laurfilijames

TRIPLE FRONTIER BOYS

Company — @pimosworld

The Story of Us Masterlist — @pimosworld

TSOU AU ⎢ Never Have I Ever ⎢ Down The Rabbit Hole ⎢ Santa’s A Homewrecker — @pimosworld

What Benny Doesn’t Know Masterlist — @backtothefanfiction

THE GRAY MAN

SIERRA SIX/COURT GENTRY

The Nurse Series ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 ⎢ 4 ⎢ 5 ⎢ 6 ⎢ 7 — @heresthestorymorningglory

The Spy Next Door — @renren-006

Homework Problems — @renren-006

Wide Open Spaces — @elusivewildflower

Hurt You — @j4desblurbs

Bodyguard!Sierra Six — @wiidvw .☘︎ ݁˖

Safe Hands — @hollandstrophyhusband

Bodyguard!Sierra Six — @wiidvw .☘︎ ݁˖

Aftercare w. Sierra Six — @ken-dom

Bodyguard!Sierra Six — @wiidvw .☘︎ ݁˖

DC

BATMOM

See You Soon (+ Jason Todd) — @reveluving

Batmom’s Biggest Fan — @silly-thinkings

The Bat in the Shadows ⎢ Part 2 ⎢ Part 3 — @ynscrazylife

Long Overdue Masterlist — @apocalypse-shuffle

Love Thorns All Over This Rose ⎢ Part Two — @youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms

Harmony (+Dick Grayson) — @soriseerakyra

Batprank ⎢ Part Two — @ciaraswritings

Unexpected — @ciaraswritings

Ballet (ft. Cass Cain) — @reveluving

I Want To See My Little Boy (ft. Damian Wayne) — @dragon-chica 

BRUCE WAYNE/BATMAN

Gossip and Galas — @ciaraswritings

DICK GRAYSON/NIGHTWING

The Graysons — @hannibals-favourite-meal

BATSIS

Alleviate The Pain (Platonic!Dick Grayson) — @pugh-pugh-pugh-pugh

[orionwhispers]

Tear In My Heart // Alfie Solomons

(A/N - hehe im back. im working on a bucky oneshot and a tommy series but both of them are super long and i wanted to take a little breather. this was supposed to be a drabble but you know me... ive got a few more ideas for shorter imagines like this with tommy and alf, requests are open! hope you enjoy. pls reblog and comment. love u see u soon xoxxo - also this is like the smuttiest thing ive written even though its not explicit but wow who am i)

warnings: violence, mention of fights and blood, protective alfie, heavily implied smut, lots of terrible language.

You knew something was wrong when Ollie practically crashed through the door. He took off part of the frame and made the hinges tear from the wood, nails and screws clattering onto the ground. The afternoon had been wonderful, perhaps too wonderful, and as always, real life found a way to shatter your rose tinted glasses.

It was starting to fall into autumn, the air chilly but comfortable, the streets slick with rain and the leaves turning into a sweet, buttery caramel all around you. The house was silent save for the birds singing in the trees and the rattling whip of the wind against your windows. The quiet was a perk of having house out in the country, far away from anything and anyone. Just the way he liked it.

Because to him, all he needed was his girl.

Well, and his dog.

The sun had barely risen when you got up - much to your husbands protests. You felt him stirring from beside you, a solid wall of warmth as he snaked his arms around your waist and pressed sleepy, half drunk kisses onto your spine. You laughed tiredly as his hands curled over everything they could reach, long calloused fingers roaming against your bare skin. He grumbled as you swung your legs from under the duvet and onto the floor, throwing on his white cotton shirt and letting it fall to your knees, trying to ignore the threats he was mumbling about what he was going to do to your boss for making you come in so early.

He made one last feeble attempt to grab you, exhaustion clouding his brain so he could do no more than swipe at the top of your thigh, making you laugh at his wandering hands.

“Stay.” He said, voice raspy and muffled by his pillow.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“Alf.” You sighed playfully, grabbing your strawberry slip dress and beaded heels and fur coat, darting into the bathroom to wash up and change. Through the noise of the running water you could hear the bed springs creak as he shifted, the entire frame groaning almost as much as him. Cyril watched you with his big chestnut eyes from the doorway as you fluffed up your hair and patted on coffee coloured lipstick, pinching the apples of your cheeks for a little flush.

You rummaged through your handbag as you made your way to the bedroom door, lost in your thoughts until you heard him speak, all low and gravelly and sending shivers up your spine.

“Oi. C’mere you.”

You rolled your eyes but walked into his outstretched arms, his body completely slumped and covered in thick duvets and pillows, just his tattooed skin and coarse, tousled hair poking out from underneath. He pulled you close into him, smelling like green apples and rum and sex and sea salt, like home. He mumbled something that you couldn’t quite make out, the sun starting to shine through the cracks in the curtains and as you started to get up he tugged you in tighter, placing messy, sloppy kisses down your throat and onto your collarbones.

You smacked his shoulder, grabbing his jaw and holding it still, placing a kiss on his lips, feeling him smile against your mouth.

“Bye, my love.”

“Hmph.”

You made it halfway down the hall before you heard: “Fred is driving you. Don’t even bloody think about walking alone at this time.” Followed by grunts and groans and finally deep, throaty snores.

———————————————————-

You accompanied your boss to a few meetings, taking notes and helping him check stock. After a few hours filled with cinnamon lattes and finger cramps and ink stains, he took you aside at the office and gave you the rest of the day off. You were a little suspicious, and had a feeling his good deed might have had something to do with your slightly intimidating husband, but you accepted it nonetheless and headed to Camden after lunch.

The air was brisk and you pulled your scarf tighter around your throat, dodging puddles and fat droplets of rain as they dropped from the trees. You stopped off at a little cafe on your side of town, buying turkey sandwiches, a garden salad and a platter of seasonal fruit, ignoring the fried sugar donuts and sausage rolls and thick, crispy cuts of bacon. A routine check up to the doctor had lead to Alfie being told that perhaps a healthier lifestyle would benefit some of his ailments, so despite his grumbling and childish ways you were doing your best to make sure he was eating his five a day - no matter how much he protested.

But at the last second you grabbed a cherry jam donut. His favourite.

The rain had become torrential by the time you left, the clouds morphing into a block of ashen, sooty grey, teetering on black. Once upon a time the impending storm would have made you feel nervous, the rattling trees and flashes of lightning had been the reason for many sleepless nights when you were a child, but now you looked forward to it.

Because now it meant something different. You, Alfie and Cyril curled up in bed, the fire roaring and flickering a brilliant orange gold. Your husbands arms tight around you, squeezing softly every time there was a clap of thunder, his kisses warm and protective across your throat, knowing that he’d never let anything hurt you. Drinking tea spiked with rum and playing cards, listening to the rain against the windows, feeling the white burst of lighting every time it struck the sky. Falling asleep next to each other, Alfie always waiting for you to doze off first, unable to sleep unless he knew you were alright.

You had once hated storms, and now you wished for them.

Your umbrella was totally battered by the time you got to the bakery. The bottom of your dress was damp from puddles and your shoes were on their last legs, the satin ruined and black with mud, but you didn’t care, walking through the side entrance with a smile bigger than the moon. A few of the old boys saw you instantly, straightening up and grinning at you, welcoming you with whisky soaked aprons and calloused hands. Back when you and Alfie started dating he had all but forbidden his staff from looking, talking, or even thinking about you, but over the years you had formed a close relationship with his workers - something about your warmth and light easing up the darkness. At first Alfie huffed and puffed about it a little, but he couldn’t exactly blame his men for loving you - he was a perfect example of how you brought a strong man to his knees after all.

“Is he upstairs?” You asked George, one of the distillers. As soon as he nodded you left, your heels clicking against the cool basement flooring. You didn’t bother knocking as you approached the big, intimidating door to his office, instead just grabbing the brass lion head knob and twisting it, hearing the hinges whine in protest.

“What the fuck?” His voice was as deep and rumbling as a low tide, his tone so dark and sharp that it might have scared you, if you didn’t know him as the man who fed the ducks fresh bread at the park and cuddled Cyril when the vets had to give him an injection. “How many fucking times do I have to ask you lot to fucking knock. I mean it’s a - ”

He stopped short when he saw you, eyes going wide and lips twitching upwards just a little. He slipped into business mode whenever he sat at the leather chair behind his desk, but you always managed to chip away at his foundation.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too.” You laughed, walking around his desk to see him, his legs naturally opening to let you stand in between them, his eyes following every curve and line of your face, settling on the natural rosebud flush of your lips.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He mused, ring clad fingers darting around your waist and pulling you in. He toyed with the buttons on your dress and the jewellery around your neck, his fingers rough and large and as hot as a fire. His day had been shitty so far, but seeing the sparkle in your eyes and the loose curl of your hair had made everything much, much better.

“Hmm.” You said, leaning into his touch, batting away his hand as it slipped somewhere a little too low. “Marcus gave me the afternoon of so I thought I would come and surprise you.”

He blinked up at you, all wistful and love drunk and making your knees turn into blackcurrant jelly. “Did you now?”

“Yep.” You smiled, brushing your nose against his before pulling back and teasingly shaking the paper bag of baked goods in your hand. “And I bought gifts.”

“Yeah. Yeah. In a minute.” He barely registered them, instead dragging you into him, pressing kisses to your lips and letting you wash away any thoughts from his brain, not stopping until he was totally, completely drowning in you.

——————————————————-

That was how you ended up cross legged on the sofa, devouring your new novel and sipping on the rose and oolong tea Alfie kept in the cupboard for when you visited the factory. You could hear the rain pattering down the windows around you, mixed with the scratch of Alfie’s fountain pen and the sound of him rifling through his papers. It was fun to watch him as well as listen to him, the way his eyebrows raised when he read something he didn’t like, the twitch of his nose and the way that he ran his fingers through the coarse hair of his beard, moulding it to a peak at the bottom of his chin.

He watched you as well. When you got so into your book that your brows furrowed and your nose wrinkled. The way your hair was loose and wild, your stockings a soft pink under the stormy sky, your eyes wide and frantic, desperate to read as much as you could. He smiled at the way your leg bounced, how you tried to pick the stems from your strawberries with one hand but then accidentally squished them, the juice running down your wrist. He especially liked the way you were using his winter coat as a blanket, drowning in the fabric like a child, the collar snug around your chin.

Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

You heard Ollie before you saw him, the crash of his laced black boots thundering up the stairs, the way that he collided with the door rather than opening it first. You and Alfie stood up at the same time, his eyes immediately darting to you, gesturing for you to get behind him.

“Eric’s here.” Was all the boy said, and you watched the colour drain from Alfie’s face.

“Eric?” You said, “Eric Martin?”

Your question lingered in the air as the two men walked around one another, gesturing wildly and talking under their breath; Alfie completely frantic and flustered. You had only heard of Alfie’s new business partner in passing, the two of them had spent the better part of a year talking through agreements and shipments and trying to manoeuvre a deal where the two of them could co exist happily - Alfie’s rum and Eric’s stolen goods sharing a boat so that the city checks would be easier. Alfie had never been particularly quite when it came to business. He liked to include you and get your opinion on things, he trusted you most of all anyway, but he had been secretive when it came to Eric.

You had heard through Ollie and rumours at the club and whispers in the factory that this “Eric” was a man not to be trifled with. Apparently he was unpredictable and violent, and he belonged to one of the major crime gangs in Cambridge. None of this scared you though, many people thought the exact same of the man you shared your bed with, and you knew a side of him that nobody else saw. The gossip was barbed and cruel though. They said he was conniving and underhanded, and that his last two wives had been admitted to hospital with broken and fractured bones.

So Alfie tried cutting him out as much as he could, never wanting to say his name or talk about him in the safety of his home, not with you around. Your home was his solace, and he wouldn’t taint his life with you in blood red - you were too important. You never thought much of it, but watching his reaction, his sudden overprotectiveness and stern frown and rattled demeanour, made you just a little bit frightened.

“What the fuck does he want?” Alfie snapped, pulling your coat over your shoulders frantically and starting to button it up, then helping you tug on your boots and lace them.

“He’s pissed about the Brighton shipment, he says his liquor didn’t get there on time.”

“Stupid fucking...” Alfie’s voice trailed off like smoke, something downstairs on the factory floor clattering loudly followed by distinct, angry shouts. “We told him it was too risky with the police there, he should have fucking listened. We were due a meeting next week, tell him to fuck off and come back then.”

“He won’t listen.”

“Make him.”

“I...” He started, but Alfie cut him off again, standing next to you and taking your face in his large, calloused hands.

“Right, pet. Stay here for a little bit, and when it clears up, Ollie will take you out the back, alright?”

“Alfie...” You started to protest, before exhaling and sighing as he turned to his protégée.

“You got that, Ol? Nothing is to happen to her.”

You were getting a little hot with being ordered around, but the visible anxiety swimming across their faces like the midnight sea was enough for you to close your mouth. Instead of agreeing with his boss, Ollie shook his head, sucking on his lower lip as he tried to think of a way to convey the sincerity of the situation.

“He’s really angry, Alfie. You need to go down, now. Before he decides to come up.”

“Yeah, alright.”

Your fingers clenched, and you darted out to tug on the edge of his sleeve before he left.“Alfie. Please be careful.”

There was a smog of anxiety in your stomach and warning signs ringing like alarms in your mind as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his lips brushing your hairline. You chewed on the edge of your lip as he left, and you wondered how your blissful afternoon had turned into this: your body shaking with nerves as your husband descended down the stairs and into the belly of the beast.

Ollie reached out and touched your shoulder, trying to help you feel calm but his face was the colour of tepid dishwater, paling by the second.

“He’ll be fine.”

You crossed all of your fingers and toes.

———————————————————————

About twenty minutes passed, and the shouting had gone from ear piercingly loud to a low hum, which you found oddly comforting despite everything. You watched as Ollie fiddled with his pocket watch, the two of you waiting until it was safe to head downstairs.After a moment you heard the sound of the giant metal door opening, the one right at the front where the workers came in and the bakery goods were delivered, a clear indication from Alfie that Eric was leaving.

Ollie leapt up and smiled faintly at you, edging you towards the door as you swung your handbag across your chest. You scoffed a little as you walked, turning to face him.

“If Eric is gone, why can’t I stay?”

Ollie merely rolled his eyes, his hand migrating to your lower back as he all but pushed you forward. You might have been able to get away with ignoring Alfie’s orders, but he certainly wouldn’t. “You know Alfie won’t want you here after that. There’s no use fighting him about it, he’ll want you back at home.”

You sighed but conceded, allowing yourself to be guided down the staircase. At least at home you could distract yourself and have Cyril with you, his big treacle eyes were the perfect remedy to a bad day.

You were right beside the back door and ready to leave when you heard a voice cracking like thunder from behind you, something as sharp as a knife and as loud as a church bell. You both froze instantly, every nerve in your body feathering, your heart aching to know that Alfie was alright.

“You little fucking liar.” Cut around the room like barbed wire. “How long were you planning on hiding this shipment from me?” There was another crash, and you could hear liquid trickling and dribbling into a puddle, followed by the sweet, sour smell of alcohol.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re on about mate.” It was Alfie speaking now, his voice lowered to a dangerous octave, and you could picture the lightning like anger on his face. “Calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down? You’ve been sending things off without my knowledge!”

“I said. Fucking calm down.” The sound of a hand slamming down on wood, as fierce as a slap on the face. “You don’t want to make an enemy of me.”

There was another scuffle: rapid footsteps on the floor, the crack of knuckles and the smell of ash. A couple of the boys darted in from the other room, their shirts untucked and hands turning red. You watched them curiously, stepping forward on unsteady heels to try and pinpoint the commotion. You felt Ollie's hand reach for you but you leapt out of his grasp, at the same time a body flew from the next room and landed in a heap next to barrels of aged rum and whisky, the wood heaving from the strain.

You glanced at the man on the floor, his body oddly contorted, his bald head glistening with sweat and his body reeking of putrid alcohol and cigarettes. This was obviously Eric. Your eyes widened in disgust at the drunk, violent man taking swings at whoever he could, wanting nothing more than to get away from him. You saw Alfie emerge from the shadows, his gaze flitting straight to you, his hands swollen and his face flushed with visible anger at the man sprawled on the ground.

Before you could retreat, Eric’s wide, black eyes landed on you, practically bulging out of his head with adrenaline and anger and excitement. “ You know, Alfie.” He asked through bubbles of saliva, scrambling to his feet as best he could, lunging for you. You saw Alfie and a few of his best men move forward, hands ready like cocked guns to strike if they needed to. Eric ignored them, wanting to pack as many fatal blows in whilst he had the chance. “Everybody at the club talks about your little whore of a wife, Solomon’s.”

The room fell deadly silent. His words didn’t affect you at all, but you felt a pool of dread settle in your gut and you stepped backwards, warning him with your eyes. He was at the back of the room, but you could still feel the anger vibrating from your husband, and you heard him smack his lips as he tried to calm himself down.

Eric ignored your alarmed glare, spitting onto the concrete and looking you up and down with pure disgust and shameless lust. “You know that people only do business with you to get to her?”

“Don’t. You. Fuck - ” Alfie’s boots thundered like a stampede, his voice as dark and raspy as midnight, his words sharpened like butchers knives.

“Maybe I’ll have a go at her. Maybe it’ll teach you a little respect. If I have a go at that smug little whore and slap her around a little and....”

He didn’t finish his sentence, Alfie’s cane smashing against the side of Eric’s head with enough momentum to send his teeth flying, small milky white canines lying a few feet in front of you in a pool of sticky blood. He made some kind of noise from on the floor, his hands coming up to protect what was left of his face, his polished shoes desperately trying to grip onto something to help him up. There was a second hit. And then a third. Each accompanied by ear splitting cries, and the sound of flesh against stone.

“Don’t you ever, ever, speak about my wife like that again.” You could just about make out Alfie from the darkness, his silhouette mighty and terrifying, leaning over the shattered body on the floor, filled with a hatred that seemed to overpower him.

“I - ” Eric tried to speak but only blood pooled from his mouth, his body weakened and damaged from the attack. He tried to cover himself with his hands but failed, another ear piercing crack echoing around the room.

You lunged forward, wanting to stop your husband before he went too far. “Alfie! Stop! You’re going to kill him!”

He blinked up at you, his pupils swallowed by black. His gaze lowered from you onto the wailing man on the ground, his words playing on a loop in his brain, digging their nails in every time the record restarted.

He had said those evil things about you.

He glanced at Ollie, finally opening his mouth to speak. “Take her home.”

You struggled in Ollie’s grip, desperate to see your husband and knock some sense into him. Your heart hung heavy in your chest, equal parts terrified that he would either end up hurt or in a more dangerous situation than the one he was already in. You fought hard but Ollie’s hold was tighter, his fingers squeezing you tightly. He tried to be kind but forceful as he pulled you out into the alley, your heard turned back to face your husband, watching as him and the shadow on the floor faded to a dull, awful, obsidian.

—————————————-

You were certain you were going to make holes in the wood. You had been pacing back and forth the living room floor for almost an hour, and Cyril had abandoned his mission of trying to cheer you up, and instead watched you protectively and cautiously from his wicker basket beside the sofa.

You had chewed your sunshine yellow nails down to the wick, and your heart hadn’t stop thumping since you had left the warehouse. Ollie had left you to your thoughts, keeping watch outside to make sure nothing harmed you, and also that you didn’t harm somebody else.

Dealing with hysterical women wasn’t really his forte.

There had been no word from Alfie since you had left, and so you watched the teal wall phone endlessly, hoping that it would ring and you would know he was alright. You were greeted with nothing but ice cold silence, and so you resumed your pacing, biting down on the skin of your thumb until you could taste blood.

Right before you were about to lose all control and demand Ollie take you to see him, you heard the crunch of the gravel outside, and saw lemon headlights flash against the wall. Cyril’s head lifted quickly, and his tail began to thump, but your feet turned to concerted and you were unable to do anything other than wait.

You were as still as a spectre as you stood facing the door, your body prickling with anxiety and adrenaline. A car - you assumed Ollie’s - coughed and spluttered over the rocks and into the road, leaving you alone with Alfie. You heard the key in the lock, practically felt the metal ridges running over your spine as he pulled and twisted and finally came inside, the sky a gloomy, smoky grey, rain falling so harshly it was almost hail.

He was shaped so strongly, his figure so barbed and brawny and beautiful. You felt totally mortal beside a man like him, and he looked even more so like a God when you saw him under the icy white lamp light in the hall.

He was covered in blood. Soaked in it, really. It was matted in his hair and in ugly brown splotches across his once pristine shirt and under his fingernails and smeared across his boots in a shade of red you had never seen before. It was obvious he had tried to clean himself up judging from the uneven patches and water marks, but he had given up, deciding to risk everything and drive through the streets like an abattoir worker, just so he could see you as quickly as he could.

You let out some kind of noise and stepped forward, he caught you effortlessly, the way that he always would.

“Alfie.” You said, wide eyed and innocent and good, and he felt like a sinner holding something so angelic in his arms.

“I’m alright. I’m alright.”

There was blood in his beard, and a plum sided bruise turning nightshade on his upper arm. “Oh God, Alf.”

He shook his head, pulling you in and smelling the orange and cinnamon of your shampoo and the vanilla perfume on your neck and felt the softness of your hair and the curves of your body. The day had been bad. It had started so wonderfully and ended up shattered and splintered into something so awful and malevolent, and now there was nothing he wanted except you, his home.

“We need to - ” You started, but he frowned, his arms engulfing you and tugging you in. He pressed his lips to whatever flesh he could find, open mouthed and desperate, sucking and biting and aching for you.

“No. No.” He whispered into your neck, his voice so small and desperate that your heart throbbed. “I need you, my love.”

You knew what he wanted. How we got when he was like this. Touch starved. Greedy. Insatiable. How he wanted nothing else but the feel of you under him, the weight of your ribs and the feel of your body and love consuming him until nothing was left. Fuck his back and his cane, he needed to claim you and mark you and show you just how badly he needed you. He needed to find religion at the alter of your pliant, yearning body. Show you how much he loved you on the cold kitchen tiles with the rain casting grey shadows and his lips biting your own as the thunder clapped above.

————————-

The tap was still leaking.

Alfie had promised to fix it weeks ago and yet it still dribbled lukewarm water continuously, you didn’t mind for once though, the soft noise it made as it bounced into the water was somewhat calming.

His legs around you were as thick as tree trunks and covered in curly, coarse hair. His arms were tight around you, and you played with the jewels on his fingers as you both relaxed, letting the hot steam cover you both. You were cradled in front of him despite your instance that his back would hurt and it would cause more harm than good. He simply got in the water and dragged you on top of him, letting the pink bath salts do their job.

You hadn’t really spoken since you’d made love like teenagers on the kitchen floor. Afterwards, he tugged you on top of him and held you close, the two of you skin to skin, letting your pulses synch and breathing calm all whilst he stayed warm and throbbing inside of you. Needing to be joined with you for as long as he could.

Then you ran a bath and filled it with all of the expensive lotions and potions you had stockpiled. Cherry and rose and sweet mint and chocolate and lime, things that might have clashed but would easily cover the smell of sweat and sex and thick, coppery blood. The two of you sat in the water, not speaking but filled with love, despite all of the unspoken tension in the air.

You felt him shift behind you. His huge body sent water and bubbles lapping wildly over the tub edge, coating the floor in marshmallow pink. You giggled softly, and the sweet, angelic noise gave Alfie the final push to tell you everything.

“I know what you want to ask me.”

“Hmm?” You murmured, letting round, iridescent bubbles fall through the cracks in your fingers, knowing exactly what he was about to say but feigning innocence anyway.

“You want to know if I killed him.”

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need to, he continued anyway.

“I did.”

The bathroom fell silent again and Alfie could feel you stiffen under him. You knew from the moment he swung his cane across Eric’s head that he would be buried six feet by the end of the day, but it still hit you like a punch to the windpipe to hear the words aloud.

“Does that bother you?” He asked after a moment, the words thick and raspy, as though they had been stuck in his throat like congealed honey.

“I’m not sure.” You said finally.

It was the truth. You weren’t sure.

You knew he had killed people before. You knew what the war had made him do, what it had turned him into. You weren’t stupid, either. You knew that he often came home with dirt under his nails and blood splattered on his boots and that glazed look in his eyes that made your stomach tie itself in knots. You knew because you had been there through it all, cleaning him up and disinfecting his wounds, talking him down when the memories of gunshots and trenches got too loud, listening to him tell you all of the secrets that lingered in his mind like flies around a carcass.

But if you were being honest, you didn’t care that he had killed. You never judged Alfie or his choices, you understood the way his brain worked and how he made his decisions. Most of the men had been awful. Abusers and violent thieves and con men with dirty intentions. This was the business you had signed up for when you fell for the six foot man with questionable morals but a heart of solid gold. There was no way you were turning your back on him now.

It wasn’t murder that scared you, it was the possible repercussions that led you to sleepless nights and bloody, bitten lips. You were terrified that one day everything would catch up to him, and it would be your husband that ended up in a coffin. He was so powerful and dangerous and magnificent, but he wasn’t invincible.

You were about to say as much but he continued, the water sloshing around the two of you. “Don’t let it bother you. I’d do it again. Kill a fucking million men if I had to. If anyone talks about you like that - if they even think it. They’re gone. Bloody scum. The lot of ‘em.”

You sighed, shifting up and grabbing his hand under the water. You rubbed circles across his palm, conveying your love through actions. “I don’t want to be the reason you have blood on your hands.”

“I’m a big lad right, I can make my own decisions.”

“I know you are Alf, but you know how I worry.”

“Listen to me, right.” He muttered, the candles flickering clementine, his fingertips pressing gently onto the bare flesh of your hip. He cleared his throat, feeling the rise and fall of your chest against his belly. “After the war I had nothing - and then I met you and fuck me you changed everything.”

He paused, reminiscing internally about how you met and your early dates, thinking of toffee kisses and giddy, pure love and fucking in back alleys and winter walks and finally feeling something after the war had shot everything right out of him. “And you are my wife. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

You tugged on his big toe, making him wince and playfully hit you, the air lightened just a little bit, but enough so that the two of you could breathe. “I don’t care that you killed them, Alf. I never have. But God, if something were to happen to you! What if the police start looking? What if...”

A million fucked up scenarios of your beloved in silver cuffs and a bullet in his head made you feel completely nauseous, but he held you tight, grounding you back to reality.

“I’m not going anywhere. And for the cops - they should be thanking me. Got rid of a lot of nasty criminals without them getting their hands dirty.” He pressed kisses to the back of your neck, the tip of your spine, the crook of your ear. “I promise you, my love, everything will be alright.”

The future was uncertain, but you knew that when you married him. Some days were just bad.

Clouded in darkness and tinged with blood and rust. Your relationship had always been a little unconventional, a little rough around the edges and at times, like a small wooden boat on a rough sea. But despite everything your love had been unwavering, as solid as a steel, the kind of dreamy infatuation that people longed for. For every bad day and every fight and every knot that wound itself in your belly - there was also so much good. Sleepy kisses and pillow talk and sharing the parts of yourself that no one else saw. A language without words, the safety of his arms, the home in your hips, domestic mornings and a love that could last through anything.And in that moment, with the storm starting to ease and the sky starting to lighten and his arms around you and Cyril starting to whine for his dinner downstairs...

It was enough.

Because you weren’t just the girl he would kill for. You were the girl he would live for.

[tommyspeakycap]

conspiracy theory: alfie solomons “doesn’t touch” alcohol bc when he drinks he get all soft and sweet so he can’t drink because people cannot see him being soft. he’s made that mistake before and people have died lol