Well, first of all, I’m sorry it’s taken a while to get this posted! I’ve been traveling a bit and caught up with work and just haven’t had enough time to write. The struggle!!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy!! XOXO
Warnings: just angst this time
Pairings: Alfie x Reader; Tommy x Reader
Chapter 7 (read chapter 6 here)
You woke up in a cold sweat, shooting straight up in the bed. The lack of Alfie’s warm body beside you only added to the panic you felt in your chest. He hadn’t been home all day and you were terrified he somehow knew that Tommy had been there.
After he kissed you, Tommy had promptly placed his hat back on his head and walked out the door, without saying a word.
You had been left standing in utter shock in the doorway.
In truth, you weren’t surprised that he’d kissed you. You weren’t oblivious to the way he looked at you. And, of course, you’d felt the tension between you growing since the day you’d met.
But you were surprised you’d kissed him back. Through all of this, you’d remained steadfast in your love for Alfie. And in truth, even kissing Tommy hadn’t changed that.
You loved Alfie. With all of your heart. And had for as long as you could remember. He provided for you, cared for you, and protected you, always. Which added to the confusion you were experiencing.
It’s not that you were in love with Tommy. You weren’t so naive as to think that. But you were intrigued by him. Fascinated by him. And excited by him.
And sitting in your bed, drenched in a cold sweat, you thought about him. About that kiss. About how his hands found their way into your hair, the way he pressed his body against yours, the warmth of him intoxicating you. About his taste, the way your tongue felt against his, the way your toes curled in your shoes and your hips uncontrollably pressed into him. About the way he left you breathless when he pulled away. About the way you wanted to lean in for more but somehow fought the urge.
And the way he’d walked away as if it had never happened.
But it had. And you had no idea what to do about it now.
Unable to force yourself back to sleep, you got out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, putting the kettle on and sitting at the small table.
As you sat steeping your tea well beyond what you should have, you heard the front door open. You could sense Alfie before you could see him. The house always felt different with him in it. As if it were warmer, safer, more like home.
You already knew something was wrong but his face confirmed it when he turned the corner into the kitchen.
You’d seen many emotions on Alfie’s face over the years. He was one to wear his reactions clearly on his face, never able to hide them, at least not from you. You’d seen anger there, shock, horror, frustration. But you’d also seen happiness, contentment, and love.
Tonight, though, you only saw sadness.
He didn’t need to say anything. You already knew he knew. And your mind starting running on overdrive trying to work out how he’d found out. Had Tommy told him? Had a neighbor seen? Did he even know the extent of it?
Your heart raced. You felt faint. But he snapped you out of your panic it when he spoke, the sound of his voice always bringing you back down to reality.
“We need to talk,” was all he said.
You looked into your tea, unable to immediately respond. You were paralized--so fearful for what would come next.
It wasn’t that you were afraid of Alfie, he’d never been rough or cruel with you. Rather, you were terrified of hurting him. It was the last thing in the world you wanted. But you knew it was too late. The damage had been done.
“What did he tell you?” he asked, calmly taking the seat across the table from you. He placed his hat on the table and you watched as he spun the ring on his thumb while he awaited your answer.
You cleared your throat, pushing down the sob that was trying to break free.
“Nothing,” you finally answered after an awkward silence.
But Alfie wasn’t buying that and he stared at you until you gave him what he wanted.
“He said you’re lying to me,” you finally offered.
“Hmm,” he nodded in response. “And I suppose you believe him? Is it the gypsy thing, then?”
“Alfie, you know me better than that,” you said, wiping a single tear away from your cheek. “I just don’t know what to believe.”
“What is it, then? Eh? Cause I’ve been wracking my fucking brain and I can’t piece it together.”
“I can’t either, Alf,” you said with a small shrug.
His gaze was too much for you to bear and you turned your head away, trying to concentrate on the kettle rather than looking at the disappointment on his face.
“Look at me, love.”
The way he used your pet name restored a bit of hope in your heart. You felt your face warm with the thought that maybe you’d be able to salvage this.
You did as he asked and turned back to look at him.
“Why on earth would I ever willingly do business with those dirty fuckin’ Russians? Hm? You know they butchered my mother!” Alfie’s anger had finally gotten the best of him and he slammed his hand on the table.
You just blinked back the tears and mustered the strength to respond.
“But you are, Alfie. Are you seriously going to deny that?”
“Here you sit, yeah? Letting Tommy fuckin’ Shelby get into your fuckin’ head. Letting that gypsy scum play games and cloud your judgement.”
“Gypsy scum?” it was your turn to grow angry. “How dare you,” you said, clenching your fists to keep your hands from shaking.
“You believe I’m doing this willingly?”
“I told you, I don’t know what to believe--”
“--And you fuckin’ kissed him,” he interrupted, shaking his head.
There it was. You couldn’t respond--could barely breathe. You had no idea what you’d say even if you rouse the strength to push words from your throat. There was nothing to say.
Alfie rubbed his hand over his face and let out a deep breath. You could tell he was trying to control his anger, that he was struggling himself to decide how to proceed.
“Maybe it’s best if I leave for a while.”
His words felt like a kick in the gut. Your heart dropped to your stomach. You weren’t surprised to hear them, but were devastated it’d come to this.
“It should be me that goes,” you responded.
Alfie just nodded and looked away, training his vision on the kettle himself as he tried to avoid your sad expression as you’d done to avoid his earlier.
The next hour passed painfully as your packed a small suitcase. You purposely took very little, still hopeful you’d come back to the house you shared with Alfie. He’d said “for a while,” not “forever.” And that gave you hope, even if it was a minuscule amount.
You knew you wouldn’t need much where you were going, anyway. So why bother.
He sat in the same spot at the kitchen table as you packed and prepared to leave. The sun had just come up, and the fog lay thick in the street outside the house. He’d called Ollie to drive you, and he sat silently in the car parked outside.
Alfie walked with you to the door.
It broke your heart to break his. You knew this was your own doing, but Alfie somehow seemed as if he thought it was his fault. He didn’t say as much, but you knew him well enough to know what his eyes said even when he didn’t speak.
In a desperate attempt to reassure him, you raised a hand to his cheek and looked deep into his eyes once more.
“For what it’s worth, I never wanted him. It’s always been you, Alfie.”
Alfie chuckled and shook his head--a gesture he used to make often and one that sent a chill down your spine. You realized in that moment that you’d been missing your Alfie for a long time now. He reached up to mirror your own movement, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“You know, love, I think it’s incredibly sad you actually believe that.”
____________________________
The car pulled up outside of the imposing estate and you took a deep breath. This was going to be more difficult than you were prepared for, but you knew it had to be done. You left your small suitcase in the back seat and asked Ollie to wait for you, assuring him you’d be back before too long to continue your journey.
You reached slowly for the brass knocker, suddenly afraid of what you knew you’d find on the other side of the large wooden doors.
Within seconds, the door opened and a large, dark haired woman in a maids uniform was standing in the entry. She looked at you, without saying a word, and waited for you to speak first.
You swallowed the lump in your throat.
“My name is (Y/N) and I’m here to see Duchess Petrovna.”
____________________________
Thank you, as always, for reading along. Comments and feedback always welcome!
Warnings: angst; something resembling, but not quite smut.
Pairings: Alfie x Reader; Tommy x Reader
Chapter 6 Read Chapter 5 here
You sat at the fire, feet folded beneath you, chewing the mint leaf slowly. You watched Tommy as he sat at the small wooden table across from your great aunt Aishe, the only of your grandmother’s siblings who still traveled. She was holding Tommy’s hands, turning them over, trying to read the lines. Tommy stared back at her intently. If he were bothered by the fact that you’d brought him to your family’s camp, he didn’t show it.
In truth, you were happy to have a reason to return to them. After your grandmother passed, your family rarely visited. You’d brought Alfie, of course, as your family would want to approve of the man you intended to spend your life with. But very few occasions gave you reason to visit these days, though you did seek answers from your great aunt when you were having a hard time making sense of your feelings. She’d always had a way of reading people. And it was that skill you desperately sought now.
You watched a pack of children running wild through the field, no doubt the sons and daughters of some cousin or other. It struck you how you’d never properly met any of them. It was only your grandmother and great aunt you’d ever actually spent time with.
Your mind had wandered so far that you were startled to hear Aishe call your name. You stood and moved toward her, passing Tommy along the way.
She put her arm around your waist and pulled you into a slow walk down the bank of the river.
After a few moments you stopped and turned to see Tommy had taken your place at the fireside and was now laughing, actually laughing, with a few of your cousins.
Aishe took your face in her hands.
“You’re conflicted,” she said, speaking in Romani now. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“I didn't come here for that, Aunt Aishe,” you returned in the same tongue.
“I know. I do.”
You began walking again, waiting for her to tell you what you’d come to learn. She understood and walked alongside you again.
“You know what kind of man he is,” she said.
You nodded.
You did know what kind of man you were dealing with. You’d heard all the rumors about the entire Shelby family. And although he still hadn’t shared the details of their current strategy, Alfie had told you enough over the years to know Tommy Shelby wasn’t to be easily trusted.
“But his heart isn’t entirely black. It’s been battered and bruised over time, but there is good inside of him. And he is genuinely taken with you.”
You walked beside Aishe in silence, watching the sun set and letting her words sink in.
Part of you had hoped she’d tell you he was pure evil and to stay away from him. You wished she’d said you’d be better off to walk away from him for good. But at the same time, you were glad she’d said there was good inside of him. That eased some of the guilt you felt for your feelings toward him. Perhaps you’d sensed the good in him. Perhaps that was what attracted you to him in the first place. Perhaps he was more like Alfie than you’d originally thought.
“There's something else,” Aishe said to you as you turned to walk back toward the camp. “There are lies. And somewhere I sense hatred and great conflict.” She stopped walking and once again held your face in her hands.
“Take care of yourself. Don’t be the fool,” she said before leading you back to the fireside where Tommy was waiting.
__________________
You stumbled into the house, unable to see what was in front of you as it was all covered in thick darkness. Once you found your bearings, you were able to quietly remove your shoes and walk on your toes up the stairs and to your room. You half expected to see Alfie sitting up reading in bed, as he usually did, but he was already asleep, only the soft light from the moon filtering into the room through the curtains. You checked the clock and realized it was much later than you thought.
You prepared for bed as quietly as you could, slipping into one of Alfie’s jumpers to warm yourself. It’d been cold out by the fire, and your insides still felt like they were shivering to get warm.
As you quietly slid into the bed and snuggled up to his back, Alfie spoke.
“And, so? What did she say about him, then?” He asked.
You hadn’t told him where you were going when you left his office that afternoon, but he’d known anyway. He always knew you so well.
He didn’t turn to face you, so you spoke into his back, your lips grazing his skin as you did so.
“She warned me to be cautious. That I’m being lied to.”
“Hmm,” Alfie hummed encouraging you to continue.
You sat up, leaning your weight on your elbow so you could see him better, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Alf,” you said. “I need to know what’s going on.”
He lay there in silence for a few moments, no doubt trying to decide just how much he should tell you. You knew he didn’t want to put you in harm’s way, but you’d told him so many times over the years that you’d much prefer to be in the know so you were always prepared for what could come your way. You accepted his lifestyle, joined it, in fact, and keeping you in the dark wasn’t actually keeping you safe at all--at least that wasn’t the way you saw it.
“Alf,” you said again, after no response came.
He then turned to face you, pulling you back down onto the mattress and into his chest. He kissed the top of your head and looked into your eyes.
“Listen, love, what you need to know is that I’m working with Tommy to throw over these dirty Russians, yeah? And that’s all you need to know, right?” He rubbed a thumb over your cheek and down to your lips, lightly pulling on the bottom one as he watched it quiver under his touch.
You knew what he was trying to do. Alfie often used romance to change the subject. You weren’t going to let him get away with it that easily this time.
“Alfie,” you said, pushing him away playfully. “That’s not going to work. Tell me what’s going on or I swear I’ll find out for myself.”
Alfie cleared his throat, his eyes darting between your own and back to your lips over and over.
He kissed you, pulling you in closer, his tongue exploring your mouth, his breath growing heavy.
You pulled away from him in a last effort to get the information you wanted.
“Alfie,” you breathed out as he dropped his head to your neck, kissing your collar bone, up the delicate skin on the nape of your neck, and pulling your ear into his mouth.
He rolled you over onto your back and let his free hand begin its exploration of your body, moving inside the large sweater and finding your breast.
“Alfie,” you said, with a moan now. You’d given up trying to ask a question and were now just asking for more.
“Just relax, love. We can talk about this later.”
And with that, Alfie moved down your body, licking and nipping at the sensitive skin on your ribs, down your sides, until he found the soft satin of your underwear.
“Just relax,” he said.
You closed your eyes and let yourself forget about it all. You didn’t think of Tommy, of the prediction Aishe had made, of the danger you knew now Alfie was wrapped up in.
At least for that moment, you only thought of Alfie Solomons.
_______________________
You hurried down the stairs to answer the door. The knocking came nonstop, growing louder after you didn’t answer right away. You didn’t even look through the peephole, just wanting whoever it was to stop knocking before it set off the dogs.
The door swung open faster than you planned it, your frustration taking hold.
And there stood Tommy Shelby.
You hadn’t expected any visitors, but you certainly didn’t expect Tommy to show up on your stoop unannounced.
Not knowing what to say, you simply moved back from the door and motioned for Tommy to enter.
He removed his hat as he stepped through the threshold. But you didn’t invite him in further than the foyer and leaned against the wall, folding your arms across your chest, you silently invited him to explain himself.
But he didn’t. Instead, he stood there silently, looking you over.
He was baiting you. And you knew it. But you couldn’t take the awkward silence, so you relented and broke first.
“Alfie told me what’s going on. Said it was your idea that he seduce the duchess,” you said, interested in what his justification might be.
Alfie had implied that, after you’d both been satisfied last night and were drifting off to sleep, but he hadn’t claimed it outright.
“Then he’s lying to you,” Tommy said, leaning against the wall opposite you, mirroring your stance. “In fact, I think he’s lying to you about a lot of things,” he said, staring straight into your eyes.
And that set you off, you took three quick steps toward him and landed a slap across his face that you were sure the neighbors heard.
Tommy barely responded, holding his head steady, eyes still focused on you. You watched as the red bloomed across his cheek.
You stood like a stone, unmoving, closer to him now, breathing deep and fast, shocked at what you’d just done.
When he finally did respond, it was by grabbing your waist, pulling you in close, and kissing you, square on the mouth.
And while your mind wanted you to push him away, to scream at him, to slap him again, your body didn’t react that way.
You returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into his warm, strong frame.
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Read Chapter 7
Thanks for reading and please, feel free to share any comments or feedback!
Tag list (or, my babes): @chellestrash @evelynshelby @higgles123 @justanothershelby @l0tsofpennies @leilanixx @queenmissfit @peachlle @brianaisasongbird @udontadixonlover @thewallpapergoesorido @peakys-mystic
Here’s a new little project of mine based on an anonymous request. I hope you know who you are, friend, and that you love this as much as I do so far! XOXO
Warnings: none yet, but will contain a fair amount of both angst and smut; likely violence as well, because this is Peaky Blinders
Pairings: Alfie x Reader; Tommy x Reader
Chapter 1
Alfie helped you into the car, placing his broad hand on the small of your back. The touch elicited a faint smile from you, but you wouldn’t let him see it.
It was gestures like this that reminded you why you loved Alfie Solomons. He was always so tender with you, even when he was obstinate, stubborn, foolish--he was always tender.
You did love Alfie Solomons. Despite the hell he’d put you through over the years, you couldn’t help but love him. Intimate dinners like the one you’d just shared were few and far between these days, but your love remained through all the heartache and conflict.
You’d been sweethearts since childhood, sharing in so much of your lives.
As children, you ran around his father’s bakery day after day, playing cops and robbers, and making a general mess about the business. His father never seemed to care that you were underfoot, though, just happy that his son was happy.
As you grew a bit older, your interests diverged. You found yourself drawn to art and music. Alfie found himself drawn to sports and money.
But through it all, your friendship remained. You were there for him when he lost his parents. Consoled him through his grief and helped him muster the strength to take over his father’s business.
You were friends when he went away to war, but exchanged so many letters while he was there that you were something else entirely when he returned home.
And he was something else. Not just changed by war, but changed by ambition. He quickly altered the face of his father’s business, using the bakery as a front for untaxed, illegal rum distillation. And as difficult as it was to watch him fight his enemies, fight the law, fight everyone to rise to the top, you were proud of him. He’d made up his mind to create more for himself, and that was something you’d support, regardless of what it meant to anyone else.
Alfie recognized that, too, and knew he’d be a fool to let you go. He didn’t know many women who would look beyond what he was doing, let alone actually appreciate it.
So he asked you on a proper date, confessed his feelings for you, and the rest was true love.
Until it wasn’t.
The business picked up. Alfie was getting noticed.
It was good for the bottom line, but worrisome for you both. As much as he’d never admit it, Alfie feared the new attention from rivals and potential business partners alike.
His fear kept him from committing to you properly. He thought--incorrectly--that keeping you at a bit of a distance would keep you out of harm's way. You already lived in his house, worked with him each day, and accompanied him on most business related travel, but somehow not calling you his ‘wife’ made him feel better about your safety.
It’s not that you needed to be married to him. You knew Alfie loved you, and was committed to you, but there was a small part of you that wondered if it were fair that you couldn’t marry the love of your life.
Alfie worried about the people he found in his circle--rival gangs, shady business partners, corrupt police. He feared you’d become a target.
One such person was of particular concern.
He’d worked with Tommy Shelby in the past, fixing races and throwing over an Italian gang for control of on track betting. You had never met the notorious Brummie, nor wanted to after the rumors you’d heard. But he had recently visited the bakery and while you knew better than to ask, you were certain Alfie was about to go into business with him--again.
As you sat in the car, on the way to Tommy’s palatial estate in Warwickshire, you imagined what the business might be.
It wasn’t like Alfie to keep secrets from you, usually telling you of every plan. But he’d yet to share any details about this particular venture, choosing instead to ask you to join him as a distraction--though you weren’t sure whether he meant a distraction for Tommy or himself.
As the car pulled up to the house, you felt your heart rate rise. Beautiful wasn’t the right word. It was beautiful, but in a dark and tortured way. It was a house, a mansion, like you’d expect to find in the pages of Dostoyevsky. Brooding and cold, full of secrets to be uncovered.
Alfie helped you out of the car as he turned to face the house.
Sophie looked through the scope surveying the stage. Everything was exactly as Tommy said it would be. The podium was set slightly off center, the banner hung directly behind it, and a small piece of tape marked the floor where Tommy would stand. He’d even described the decor to the finest detail, sketching out on a small piece of paper where each fern would be placed by the stage. Sophie hadn’t understood why he bothered with such details, but she enjoyed being close with him again and chose to just let him go on so she could watch the way his mouth moved when he spoke.
She was physically ready, wiping the sweat from her palms and rolling her head to loosen the tension in her neck. She checked the pocket watch Tommy had slipped her. She had fifteen minutes.
It was mental readiness she lacked. Sure, she’d been in situations like this before, and she’d always handled them with more grace and aplomb than anyone would have imagined she would, but this was different. It wasn’t just her safety that balanced precariously on her shoulders It was Tommy’s as well.
Her mind flashed back to that morning two years before, the morning that everything had changed. The moment that Robert pulled the trigger still haunted her. She remembered the sensation in her fingertips. The click of the gun as she realized it’d jammed. The ringing in her ears as she fell to the floor beside Tommy. She remembered how bright red his blood was as it wet his shirt.
The fifteen minutes she waited for him to enter the arena were the longest she could remember. But when he finally entered, even the roaring crowd couldn’t drown out the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. Each beat was both heard and felt as she watched him approach the stage and take his place.
It was the first time she’d seen him since leaving his office that morning, but she hadn’t stopped thinking of him.
He’d been able to move without waking her, reaching for his coat and removing his cigarette case and lighter. It wasn’t until he lit the cigarette that she woke, hearing the lighter strike and the slow burn of the paper.
She smiled before ever opening her eyes, remembering at that instant exactly where she had fallen asleep.
She felt him beneath her. The skin of her cheek pressed against the skin of his chest. She felt him breathing, the deep breaths he took as he inhaled his cigarette. She smelled the warmth of him, even though the room was cold.
“Good morning,” she said quietly, raising her head to look into his steely blue eyes.
Tommy stared back, looking deep into hers, and Sophie realized how much she’d missed that look. She’d missed those eyes. The smile behind them that he’d kept hidden from so many people.
He said nothing, but gently rubbed her lips with the pad of his thumb. And that gesture said all she needed to hear.
“We’ve wasted so much time,” she said.
“No more,” Tommy responded. “That’s enough. One more day. One more job.”
Sophie chucked. “And then what? We rest? It’s over? You and I both know that’s not true.”
Tommy sat up, pushing Sophie with him to sit on the sofa. He wrapped the small blanket they’d slept under around her shoulders and rubbed her arms in an attempt to warm her. His cigarette hung languidly from his lips as he spoke.
“No,” he said. “I suppose not.”
Sophie looked down at her hands. Too many thoughts flooded her mind at once. What had been, what was now, what could come. It overwhelmed her, almost pushing her to the brink of tears. But she finally had him back. She was finally there, really with him, and she wouldn't be scared away.
“But we can stop wasting time. I never stopped thinking about you--.”
“Nor I,” she interrupted, before leaning in for another kiss.
They had finally made their way back to one another and now they were risking it all.
Sophie returned the watch to her pocket and fished out the small, metal capsule. It was strange that something so small could signify so much. She found herself wondering how quickly everything could change, to epic proportions. One tiny capsule could take him away, forever. Turning it over in her fingers, she thought about how close he’d been, how many times he’d resolved to end it. She couldn’t help but hope it was the thought of her that had stopped him every time. He carried the answer in his pocket, but he hadn’t been able to do it. She hoped he’d been holding on for her.
She felt a familiar lump rise in her throat and failed to stifle the scoff that came with it. The irony wasn’t lost on her.
She placed the capsule in her mouth and used her tongue to move it between her teeth and cheek on the side of her mouth. It tasted metallic--like blood--and she shook her head to rid herself again of the sight of his blood as it threatened to take over her mind’s eye once and for all.
Sophie steadied the gun and trained her sight down the scope.
She looked at Tommy first, confirming that he was in place.
And as she turned slightly to move her sights toward Mosley, she saw the expression on Tommy’s face. It was a look she hadn’t seen in years, but it was instantly familiar.
Fear.
And that’s when she heard a deafening bang behind her.
She knew immediately that the sting in her back was from a bullet. The pain flooded her mind and before she could turn to see her assailant, she’d been forced to the floor by a boot pressing against her wound.
Presence of mind, though, through the pain and fear, allowed her to move the capsule from its hiding place in her mouth--placing it between her teeth. If she’d been a god-fearing woman, she would have prayed. As it were, she thought of Tommy as she bit down. The bittersweet taste of almonds was the last thing she acknowledged before it all turned black.
______________________
“Where’s Sophie?” Tommy demanded as he paced the small dressing room under the arena.
It was just he and Arthur, who was covered in blood from fighting for his life.
He wasn’t sure where it’d all gone wrong, but he knew it had. And now he was properly fucked.
“She’s gone,” Arthur answered, running a hand through his hair. He knew his brother was already fragile. Learning that Sophie hadn’t made it out safely was likely to push him over the edge. But he couldn't think of any other way to say it than to just come right out with the truth.
“What do you mean she’s gone?”
“They’ve taken her.”
Tommy tried to storm past him, grasping for the door as Arthur caught him by the shoulders and fought to steady him. He turned Tommy to face him. He needed him calm if they were ever going to find her.
“Tom, we don’t even know who they are?”
Tommy fought back, pushing his brother away as he also pushed down the tears that threatened to spill forth.
“Is she alive?” He finally asked, looking his brother in the eye--imploring, begging him to give an affirmative answer.
“There’s a lot of blood," Arthur said with a deep sigh. "I don't know, brother."
He tried to push past Arthur again. A lot of blood.
But his brother was able to stop him, forcing him into a hug until he calmed again.
“Who? Who knew, Tom?” He asked.
“It doesn't make sense,” Tommy said quietly, wracking his brain for where it’d gone wrong. “Doesn't make fucking sense.”
Tommy paced the floor rubbing his hands over his face. He knew the problem with determining what happened was the overwhelming number of suspects. He'd found himself with more enemies than he'd ever faced at once. And he was certain they all knew about Sophie, about their past.
But who knew about the plans at the rally?
“Who?” he asked, as he felt his chest tighten. “Who?” He kicked the chair by the dressing table. “Who?!” His voice rose in a frenzy. “The Chinese, the Italians the Branch, Intelligence, McCavern, Mosley?!” He shouted. “Mosley knew nothing! He knew nothing!”
He sat in the chair Arthur propped back up and hung his head in his hands.
“WHO?!” he screamed, frantic now. The word reverberated in his mind.
Who. Who. Who.
He felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes to find himself standing in the driveway outside Arrow House.
“You're fucking scaring me,” Arthur said.
But his voice sounded like a distant echo, and Tommy wouldn't let it settle in his mind.
“What are you doing? Talk to me.”
“Maybe I've found him, Arthur. The man I can't defeat,” Tommy said, turning to look at the field beside the house.
“Mosley?”
“I don't fucking know. Doesn't make sense,” he said, eyes still trained on the field. It was covered by a thick cloud of fog, but he could sense something there. And whatever it was demanded his attention.
“Let's… let's go inside,” Arthur said unsteadily. “We'll work it out. Have a drink.”
But it kept calling for him.
Sophie.
“I need to walk,” Tommy said, not once looking at his brother--just walking determinedly toward the field.
______________________
The fog was thick and Tommy could barely see in front of him. But the sound of his own breathing and the dirt crunching beneath his feet sent him forward without direction.
“Tommy.”
He heard Sophie’s voice and spun around to find her. But he couldn’t see her through the fog.
“Soph?” He yelled.
She heard him again, but this time from a different direction.
Over and over she said his name as he spun around in the mud, hoping desperately that he’d find her, but knowing that he wouldn’t.
He couldn’t do it anymore. He was tired. He was afraid. And he knew she was gone.
Tommy took the gun from his shoulder holster and pressed it to his temple.
He screamed.
_______________________
Sophie woke suddenly and with a start. She looked about the room frantically for the gun she was certain she’d just heard fire. The room was empty and everything appeared to be peaceful.
Perhaps it was another dream.
The room was just as stark, just as clean, as it had been when they wheeled her in some hours before. She could hear the ticking of a clock, but couldn't find it on the walls and had no sense of time. Had it been hours? Days?
She lay back down and closed her eyes. All she could hope at this point was that Tommy would find her--that he’d made it out safely and would come for her as well.
The doctor had made it clear they wouldn't release her without someone there to care for her.
"You're a risk to yourself," he said, holding up the shell of the capsule he'd pulled from her mouth.
She closed her eyes, hoping to find sleep as lying awake had proven to be too difficult. The uncertainty wouldn't let her settle.
Just as she began to nod off, she heard his voice.
It was Tommy.
“Sophie,” he said, as if trying to wake her. But her eyes were suddenly too heavy to open.
“Sophie, come with me, love. We can rest. It's over.”
Sophie let out a deep sigh and finally let go.
_________________
As always, folks, comments and feedback warmly welcome!
Warnings: just a little angst, but nothing troubling–yet.
Pairings: Alfie x Reader; Tommy x Reader
Chapter 4 Read Chapter 3 here.
You’d been waiting by the window for an hour when a car finally pulled up in front of your house. But it wasn’t Alfie’s car. He’d promised to pick you up, at 7pm sharp for the gala event at Arrow House, but, as had been the case more frequently as of late, the window in which you’d expected him to arrive had come and gone.
It was now nearly 8pm and there was a strange car outside your home.
Assuming it was Ollie come to give you a ride, you cursed under your breath as you gathered the stole Alfie had given you for your birthday last year and made your way from the house. It wasn’t until you’d nearly reached for the door handle yourself that the young driver emerged from the car and quickly made his way around to open it for you.
You were surprised to see a woman in the back seat and thought for a second you may have been mistaken that the car was for you in the first place.
“Get in, (Y/N)” she said with a sly smile.
You did as instructed, wondering why as you had no idea who these people were or why they seemed to know you so well.
You were thinking to yourself how angry Alfie would be with you if he’d heard you got into the car with strangers. But before you could make up your mind about it, the woman began explaining herself.
In an accent you immediately recognized as Russian, from your experience with Alfie’s mother when you were young, she explained that she was from the Petrovna family–the guests of honor at the event. Grand Duchess Tatiana Petrovna, she explained, though that meant nothing to you. She seemed surprised at your lack of interest in her title, but you payed no attention to her bruised ego, more worried now about whatever business Tommy Shelby had pulled your Alfie into.
“Alfie couldn’t be pulled away from his meeting with Mr. Shelby,” she said. “So he sent us.”
Alfie. Alfie.
You felt your heart drop to your stomach wondering why she called Alfie by his first name but referred to Tommy as “Mr. Shelby.”
You expected most women to be on a first name basis with Tommy, knowing full well his reputation not only in Birmingham but as wide as Camden Town. But hearing Alfie’s name come so casually from her lips had genuinely shocked you.
It also hurt you.
Since the night you saw him in your mind, you’d tried with all your might to push down any feelings that threatened to surface toward Tommy. You tried to chalk it up to a common slump your relationship with Alfie. It was nothing to fear, just a natural ebb to the typical flow of synchronicity you shared with him.
But now, hearing Grand Duchess Tatiana Petrovna speak so intimately about him, you began to wonder if there weren’t more at play than you knew.
And the thought of that made you sick.
You grasped at the door handle to steady yourself, completely ignoring whatever the duchess was rambling on about.
All you could think of was Alfie.
________________________
You watched as he slowly spun her around the room, trying to keep hidden how upsetting it was for you to watch him hold her so closely. You knew the duchess could sense your insecurity because she kept making small glances in your direction followed immediately by bright smiles and laughter, although you were sure Alfie hadn’t said anything to prompt it.
Just as you felt your face begin to flush, you sensed a presence at your side stood slightly behind you.
You smelled his aftershave. This is what you’d expected when you went into his home the first time. The clean and crisp scent of cedar with the warmness of sandalwood. He said nothing for several moments, but you could sense from him that he was watching the same scene you were, with the same concerns you had.
He confirmed as much when he said, “Perhaps we should give them a run for their money.”
You turned to see Tommy with a hand outstretched toward you, gesturing for you to join him in a dance.
Ordinarily, you wouldn’t have dreamed of accepting. Especially after what already seemed to be brewing between you. But seeing Alfie with another woman in his arms, with seemingly no regard for how it made you feel, only motivated you to take him up on his offer.
You nodded in an almost imperceptible gesture and placed your hand in his.
Tommy made a show of it, walking you to the middle of the floor to ensure everyone noticed, before pulling you in close.
His breath was warm as it blew the small hairs that had fallen around your face. The hand on your back held you firmly to him. His other tapped with the rhythm of the song on the back of your hand.
And all of that you could handle. You even considered it a slight victory and thought of how jealous Alfie would be when he noticed.
“I need to know something,” Tommy said, catching you off guard.
You nodded quickly. Your heart began to race.
And that’s when he said it. That little question that would hang with you for weeks. Those words you’d think about and overthink as you sipped your tea each morning until you saw him again. The words that would, unbeknownst to you, light the fuse that eventually destroyed life as you knew it.
“Why do you insist on haunting my dreams every fucking night?”
____________________________
Read Chapter 5
Thanks for reading and please, feel free to share any comments or feedback!
Tag list (or, my babes): @chellestrash @evelynshelby @higgles123 @l0tsofpennies @leilanixx @queenmissfit
Warnings: none yet, but will contain a fair amount of both angst and smut; likely violence as well, because this is Peaky Blinders
Pairings: Alfie x Reader; Tommy x Reader
Chapter 2 (Read Chapter 1 here)
As you walked into the house, you instinctively leaned in closer to Alfie. The house was overwhelming, in both size and tone. It was huge, but dark and contemplative. You felt a shiver run down your spine but tried to convince yourself it was the chill in the autumn air and not the inexplicable urge to run coursing through you.
You squeezed tightly to Alfie’s arm and he patted your hand to calm you.
As you entered the house, you first took note not of the ornate woodwork or gilded frames adorning the wall, but the warm smell of vanilla. It was exactly not what you’d expected. You thought a man like Tommy Shelby would live in a home that smelled of cedar and rosewood, not freshly baked cookies.
But before you could make sense of it, Tommy appeared in the foyer to welcome you.
It was the closest you’d ever been to him and as he approached to greet you, you realized he really was as handsome as the rumors claimed. You noted his chiseled face, all cheek and jaw bones, his smooth skin, the flecks of silver in his hair.
The devastating blue of his eyes.
It’s not that you’d never found another man attractive nor that you were so naive as to think Alfie to never looked at other women. But the way you looked at Tommy now made you blush.
Tommy Shelby was... striking.
He was also terrifying.
And he made a statement without saying a word.
You knew immediately that he was surprised, and not pleasantly, to see you.
“Mr. Solomons” he said to Alfie, though he didn’t break his gaze from you. “Come.”
He stood aside and motioned toward the office off the main hallway. Alfie let you walk first, keeping his hand square on your lower back, in a small gesture to remind you he was there. You were grateful for it, as it kept you grounded, but you were also furious with Alfie. He’d clearly not told Tommy you’d be joining them. And now you feared you’d float away on your shame if Alfie removed his hand from you.
You entered the office to see another man perched against the fireplace. His look was severe, like Tommy’s, but in a brute way.
“Shalom, Arthur!” Alfie bellowed, happily. It was clear he was goading the man, though you weren’t sure why.
Arthur’s nostrils flared, but he held his cool, glancing at Tommy as if for support.
“Right, well,” Tommy started, clearing his throat. “I apologize, I wasn’t expecting you’d bring a guest.”
He stood behind his desk, apparently waiting for Alfie to sit first.
But Alfie remained standing as well.
“Yeah, well, about that, mate. You’ve got your own guest, yeah?” He gestured toward Arthur. “So I suppose we’re even then, right?”
Arthur gripped a crystal ashtray on the table. You’d seen plenty of people angry with Alfie over the years. Had seen him fight. Had even witnessed guns drawn, both from and on him. But you’d never seen a man so seething with rage at Alfie actively fighting to keep it contained.
Just then, Tommy spoke toward the man, but he didn’t use English.
And it was clear, though he spoke multiple languages, Alfie hadn’t understood him.
But you had.
It was a language you didn’t hear often these day, but you recognized it. Romani.
Your grandmother had been Romani. She spoke the language almost exclusively, refusing to use anything else so that your entire family had to learn and use it in her presence.
And although you rarely heard it anymore, you could make out what Tommy had said.
He’d told his brother to leave. That he could handle Alfie without him. And that he’d learn what you were doing there.
And it suddenly became clear why Alfie had brought you. He needed you. Not as a distraction. Not for legitimate business. But because you understood their language. Clearly they'd used it in front of him before. And he wasn't going to let them continue to do so.
Your face must have given you away, because Tommy stared at you, unblinking--knowingly.
You sat up a little straighter in your chair and smirked, feeling confident, as Arthur made his way from the room. You found yourself in a position of power, no longer needing to fear him or let him intimidate you.
“Won’t you introduce me?” Tommy asked Alfie as he nodded his head toward you.
“Ahh, well, this is (Y/N). She’s my business associate. Accompanies me to all the important meetings, right. Couldn’t leave her out of this one, yeah?”
Tommy looked you over.
It was bullshit, he knew. And you knew that he knew. Neither Tommy nor Alfie entered into any business relationship without carefully researching their partners and enemies. You knew Tommy was already aware of your true identity and your relationship to Alfie. And Alfie knew it too. He’d chosen to lie, even though he already knew Tommy wouldn’t buy it.
“Well, perhaps now that my brother has left the meeting, your business associate should too,” Tommy said, stressing your sham of a title.
“Right,” Alfie responded. And, turning to you, he continued, “Why don’t you explore the grounds a bit, love? Mr. Shelby has horses. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you visiting them.”
You looked to Tommy for confirmation, but his expression didn't change.
“Frances can show you the way,” he said as you stood and gathered your coat.
“Oh, and love,” Alfie added. “Try not to spook them this time.”
You left the office, closing the door behind you and shaking off the dread that had washed over you. You weren't sure why, but you were feeling uneasy about this business and were ready to get out of there as soon as you could.
“Has a tendency to put a spell on most creatures, that one.” Alfie said to Tommy now that you were out of earshot.
“Of that I have no doubt,” Tommy said quietly, turning his cigarette over between his fingers and looking out the window as you made your way across the yard and toward the stables in the twilight.
“No doubt.”
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Chapter 3
Tag List (AKA The LOVLIEST OF LOVLIES!!): @chellestrash @evelynshelby @higgles123 @l0tsofpennies @leilanixx @queenmissfit
Summary: Sophia Murphy’s past is coming for her. Can she outrun it?
Tags: Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character
Warnings: angst; smut; violence; language; rape/non-con; death
Chapter 6 Read Chapter 5 here
“I’m pregnant,” Ada blurted out from nowhere.
Sophie nearly choked on her drink, but was able to swallow the shock before she accidentally spit whiskey all over her friend.
She looked at Ada, surprise spreading across her face, but before Sophie could ask any clarifying questions, Ada saw them coming.
“Yes, I know who the father is. And no, you don’t know him,” she said.
“Ada, that’s wonderful!” Sophie took her friend’s hand and gave it a strong squeeze.
Ada was glowing, clearly happy about the news, so Sophie chose not to press about the details. She was worried for her friend, but she was happy to finally be catching up after so long away.
The two sat at the corner booth in the Garrison while the bustling pub carried on around them. The conversation, as to be expected, eventually shifted to Tommy. Sophie found she couldn't spend much time with anyone in Birmingham, and especially not his family, without him becoming the center of conversation.
She didn’t need to admit the wild range of emotions she felt about the situation, about Tommy, as Ada was able to suss it out by just looking at her.
"Tommy's really been struggling," Ada said.
Sophie knew this. Arthur had mentioned it more than once. And Sophie could see it on his face. He’d looked more tired than he had before. Was more short tempered. Seemed constantly in a foggy haze. And she’d seen him drink more whiskey than ever.
“He’s always struggled, hasn’t he? Facing the war and losing a wife will do that to a man, even one as tough as Tommy.”
“He’s not so tough,” Ada said, chuckling.
She was right. He had softened to her before she left for America. She’d witnessed another side of the infamous brutal gangster. Had even come to believe it was all a mask he wore to most of the world. She had seen beyond it, and she knew Ada always had as well.
“The truth is, I think losing you has pushed him over the brink,” Ada replied.
Her heart sank. That’s the last thing she’d wanted to consider. She couldn’t bear having hurt him and had convinced herself he’d never loved her as deeply as she thought. Despite all of her effort, there had been a part of her that would sneak to the surface and tell her otherwise.
“He didn’t lose me, Ada.”
“Of course he did. And he’s been desperate to have you back, even if he won’t admit it.”
________________________
Sophie woke from a fitful sleep and drowsily mad a cup of coffee to try and force herself more alert. It was early, too early, and all she wanted to do was crawl back into bed and sleep off the whiskey still flowing through her system and forming a miserable headache between her eyes. Damn you Ada, letting me drink enough for the both of us, she thought.
Despite having risen early, she found herself rushing out the door for her meeting. She’d taken too long trying to hide the dark circles under her eyes and was anxious to be late.
As she arrived at Charlie’s yard, she realized she was right on time. Tommy was already there, as was Arthur, with a rifle slung over his shoulder. With them stood a man she didn’t recognize. They were just wrapping up a conversation as she approached. The man looked at Sophie, tipping his hat, and greeting her with a thick Scottish accent.
“I think you’re free to go now, Mr. McCavern,” Arthur said, clenching his fists.
“Not until you’ve properly introduced me,” the man responded, not taking his eyes off Sophie.
Arthur took a step toward the man, but Tommy raised his hand and held his brother back.
“Sophie, this is Jimmy McCavern, a business associate,” Tommy said, training his stare on Jimmy. “This is Sophia Murphy.”
She chose not to shake his outstretched hand, and nodded politely instead.
As he walked away, Sophie noticed the goosebumps that had formed on her arms. She didn’t know who he was or how he was wrapped up with the Shelby clan, but she trusted Arthur's judgement and didn’t care to spend any more time than was absolutely necessary in his company.
“I thought you said he’d be gone before she got here,” Arthur said to his brother.
But Tommy didn’t say anything in response and just took the rifle off Arthur’s shoulder and turned to Sophie.
“Let’s see it then,” he said, checking the cartridge to ensure it was loaded and giving her the gun, looking her in the eye for the first time all morning. He removed a cigarette from the case in his breast pocket, ran it across his lips, and lit it, all too casually.
“What do you mean?” she asked, annoyed that Tommy clearly expected her to read his mind.
Tommy just pointed at the target set up about 100 meters down the length of the yard.
Sophie knew she could make that shot, had made more difficult ones in recent months, but still she didn’t understand why he was asking her to prove it.
Arthur was similarly confused.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Tom,” he said. “Not Sophie!?”
But Tommy didn’t budge.
She looked him in the eye and determined to prove herself. Just what she was attempting to prove, and why she wanted to, she had no idea.
She leaned against the unlit fire pit, crouching behind it and ignoring the fact that her skirt was soaking in mud. She readied the rifle against her shoulder, trained her sights, and pulled the trigger as she let out a deep breath. As always, her eyes slammed shut at the sound, but she kept them shut and held her breath until Arthur spoke first.
“Fucking hell!!!” he laughed loudly. “Who would have ever guessed there’s a sharpshooter behind that sweet face of yours, love!!??”
Tommy said nothing and instead walked toward the target to inspect the mark left by the bullet. As he expected, it’d pierced the middle of the bulls-eye. He knew she’d be perfect for the job. And as much as it pained him to think of putting her in harms way, he knew he needed her if he was actually going to pull it off. He threw his spent cigarette on the ground.
Now the only thing he had to do was convince Sophie she was going to shoot Oswald Mosley.
____________________________
“Are you fucking mental?” she asked, after Tommy had explained the details of the plan.
He didn’t answer.
“Of course you are,” she said. “You know, I knew I should have listened to Arthur and to Ada. I didn’t want to believe you were losing your mind, but fuck, Tommy, clearly you already have.”
Tommy stalked toward her, quickly, and pushed her against the damp wall of the barn so fast she hadn’t seen it coming.
He was sick of people calling him crazy. He was sick of everyone questioning his ideas and intentions. He was sick of no one listening to him. But mostly, he was just sick. And that angered him the most. Tommy knew that whatever was happening to him wasn’t healthy. He knew he needed to get his head sorted. That the hallucinations, the paranoia, the constant inventory he had to take of the world around him to ground himself, were all going to catch up with him. But fuck if he wasn’t going to run from it for as long as he could. He knew no other way.
And admitting any of that to Sophie was out of the question.
He held her jaw with one hand, his other propped against the barn next to her head as he pushed with all his weight. He could tell he was hurting her, but she looked him dead in the eye, defiant still.
Tommy knew his plan was risky. But he had to kill the message. And to that, he had to kill the man. Sophie was the only hope he had.
Just as he was about to loosen his grip and let her go, she spoke.
“I nearly came back to Birmingham twice,” she said. “Once when Arthur phoned to say he was worried about Charlie, after he was thrown from the horse. But Michael talked me out of it. He said Arthur was exaggerating.”
Arthur had been right to be worried. Charlie was in hospital for several weeks. But he had been alright--suffering from a broken arm and lots of bruises to be sure, but in no real danger.
Tommy had no idea Arthur had told her about that. He realized then that his brother had probably told her much more.
“And the second time?” he asked, resisting the overwhelming urge to kiss her now that he stood so close. Even there, in the muck and the mud, she smelled sweet and radiated a warmth he’d hopelessly missed every day since she’d been gone.
“The second time was when Arthur phoned to say he was worried about you.”
Tommy let go of her then, but remained close, resting both hands on either side of her head now, and leaning forward. He looked at their shoes, unable to take her intense eye contact any longer for fear she’d see straight through him.
“He was right to be worried, wasn’t he, Tommy? You are going a little mad, aren’t you?”
And he realized it was too late. She'd already seen straight through him.
Instead of answering, Tommy leaned in and kissed her.
It was different from the kiss in his office. It was real, somehow--laced with heat and passion. Slow and steady at first, but building to a frenzy when he pressed his body against hers.
Sophie knew it was a mistake, but couldn’t help kissing back. She’d wanted this to happen since stepping back on English soil. But she was terrified of what it might mean.
Tommy was supposedly with Jesse. Sophie was now a hired gun working for him. Both Mosley and this McCavern fellow were clearly circling the waters.
But most of all, Tommy was unwell. She wasn’t even sure if he was fully aware of what he was doing.
For that moment, though, that brief moment, she pushed it all down and allowed herself to feel whole again. Things finally felt real in that moment, wrapped in his arms, feeling the heat radiate from him, and kissing him like her life depended on it.
And it very likely did.
__________________________
Tag list full of the most wonderful people: @justanothershelby @evelynshelby @l0tsofpennies @sympathyfortheblinderdevil @actuallyazriel @huntersvibe @porcelainjokersmadness@julietswildchild @geeksareunique @brianaisasongbird @ilycosimo
