#solomons

[bambiisin]

„If I see you again.“

What if you betrayed Alfie.

The office smelled like tobacco, rum, and rain.

You stood in the middle of it, hands trembling at your sides, while the man behind the desk looked like he’d aged ten years in ten minutes.

Alfie Solomons leaned forward slowly, both palms pressed flat against the wood as if the table itself was the only thing keeping him upright.

“Right,” he muttered, voice thick with restrained fury. “Right, here’s what we’re gonna do, love.”

You turned to face him.

That was a mistake.

Because the second your eyes met his, something ugly twisted in his chest. Not just anger. Not just betrayal.

Hurt.

God, he hated that look on your face.

That wounded, pleading look, like he’d just kicked a stray dog in the street.

Alfie scoffed and dragged a hand across his beard.

“Don’t,” he said sharply. “Don’t you start with that, alright? I ain’t got the stomach for it.”

Silence filled the room except for the distant crash of waves against the docks outside.

You swallowed. “Alfie.“

“NO.”

His fist slammed down on the desk hard enough to rattle the glasses.

The sudden shout made you flinch.

“Don’t you Alfie me,” he growled. “You had your turn speakin’, didn’t you? When you were runnin’ off to your little copper friends, yeah?”

Your breath caught.

“I didn’t..”

“Oh, spare me.”

He laughed bitterly, pacing away from the desk now, limping slightly as he moved across the room.

“You think I’m stupid, do ya?” he said, pointing at you. “You think I don’t notice a few officers suddenly knowing a bit too much about my shipments? My warehouses? My bloody schedules?”

He paused.

His voice dropped.

“And funny enough… that all started happenin’ right about the time you came into my life.”

The words landed like stones.

You shook your head quickly. “That’s not proof.”

Alfie’s jaw clenched.

“Proof?” he repeated softly.

Then he laughed again, but there was no humor in it.

“Darlin’, in my world we don’t bloody wait for proof.”

He stopped pacing.

For a moment, he just stared at you.

And for a second , just a second ,the anger in his eyes cracked.

Because he remembered the first night he saw you.

Too bright. Too kind. Too bloody perfect.

He remembered the way you laughed when he told some ridiculous story about Camden. The way you’d sit in his office chair like you owned the place. The way you’d press your forehead to his when you thought he was worrying too much.

He remembered thinking.This one’s dangerous.

Not because you were a spy.

Because he loved you.

And love made men weak.

Even men like him.

Across the city, Tommy Shelby had warned him about that very thing.

Alfie scoffed under his breath at the memory.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Tommy was right.”

Your voice trembled. “About what?”

“That I’m goin’ soft.”

His eyes hardened again.

“So here’s what’s gonna happen,” he said, pointing toward the door.

“You’re gonna leave.”

Your stomach dropped.

“And you’re not comin’ back.”

“Alfie….”

“You’re gonna go to that boss of yours,” he continued, voice growing colder with each word, “and you’re gonna tell him to fuck right off. Tell him Alfie Solomons says hello while you’re at it.”

You took a step toward him.

He stepped back immediately.

The movement cut deeper than anything he’d said.

“Because if I see you again,” he said quietly, “I hope God above stops me from stranglin’ the life outta you.”

The room fell silent.

You stared at him like you’d been shot.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Then he looked away.

“Now go,” he muttered.

“I’m not givin’ you another chance, love.”

Your lips parted like you wanted to argue.

To explain.

To beg.

But the look on his face stopped you.

It wasn’t just anger anymore.

It was grief.

Slowly, you turned and walked toward the door.

Each step echoed across the wooden floor.

Alfie kept his back turned.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

The door creaked open.

Cold sea air rushed in.

You hesitated for half a second.

Then you left.

The door clicked shut behind you.

And Alfie stood there, staring at the wall.

A thought crept into his mind like poison.

What if she didn’t do it?

What if someone had framed you?

What if the real spy was still out there?

His stomach twisted.

But he shoved the thought down immediately.

Too late now.

He’d already done what needed doing.

Because if he let you stay…

If you looked at him like that again…

He might forgive you.

And that, Alfie Solomons knew, would destroy him far quicker than betrayal ever could.

[warnersister]

“The silent treatment” Alfie Solomons x Reader

Alfie Solomons x Wife!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[indeedgoodman]

[potter-solomons]

I need to feel your leg hair rub against my smooth skin.

I need to hear your grunts mix with the sound of the rain.

I need to feel your hands chase the goosebumps they created.

I need to smell your sweat and feel your breath against my ear when you tell me who I belong to.

I need to feel your abs flex when I take you in my mouth.

I need to see your Adam's apple move as your head's thrown back.

I need to feel your strength as you take everything from me.

I need to hear your voice as you growl for me to cum.

I need you for every reason there could be and for no reason at all.

[theshelbyclan]

Kings of Camden

Summary: Alfie dares you to be more brave, so you decide to show him just how bold you can be

(Gif by @mensource)

A/N: I love this idea so much!! anon requested: Looking at a gif of Alfie just now I realized he has a crown tattoo on his hand and I have one on my wrist and now I can’t stop thinking about Alfie’s reaction if you ever got the same tattoo as him and surprised him w it. 😩😩I saw that you’re requests were open and just HAD to give this idea to someone. AHH I love that you have this tattoo and I’m kinda jealous and may or may not have pondered getting one myself… Anyways, I hope you like what I did with this, even though it’s short, and thank you again for being this awesome Words: 1534 ***

“Truth or dare?” He stroked his beard pensively, “There’s no such thing, though, love. Truth is such a relative concept, right, and it’s made up by people, innit? And if it’s made up by people…” You interrupted him with a sigh, “Play the fucking game, Alfie. Truth or dare?”

“Where do you even pick up these fucking games? I mean, I was in the boy scouts, just like any other decent man, and even we didn’t play fucking truth or dare…” You fixed him with a dark stare. Also, you were quite certain that Alfie Solomons had never been a boy scout, even though the thought did tickle you.

“Right,” he decided, “Dare it is.”

You clapped your hands in excitement, “I dare you to kiss Ollie!” “For fuck’s sake.” “Go on,” you urged, practically giggling with glee, “you have to!” Alfie threw his head back in mock despair, “Woman, you’ve bloody done it now, ain’t you. I’m through with you, I really fucking am, because this is no longer a game, but it has now turned into some heathen ritual of humiliation…” “Stop putting it off. Ollie’s cute and you know it.” “He is, ain’t he,” Alfie mumbled almost lovingly, “Alright then,” and he bellowed, “Ollie! Come here for a minute, mate.”

Ollie stumbled in with his usual look of bewilderment on his face, “What, Alfie?” “Come here,” Alfie motioned, “won’t hurt you, I promise, go one, come here…” It was clear that the Jewish boy grew suspicious, but still he approached. And without any warning, Alfie suddenly planted a quick kiss on his lips, and pulling away just as quick with the biggest smile on his face. Ollie, on the other hand, yelped like a little girl. “You can go now,” Alfie motioned with a hand. And quick as lightning, Ollie was gone. “Poor Ollie,” you laughed out loud. “He’s alright,” your smug friend commented, “should be used to it by now…”

And this what you and Alfie Solomons were like together: always playing. Except when you weren’t, when one of you was hurt or threatened, you tore down kingdoms for each other. There couldn’t be one without the other, ever since you were kids. You and him, against the world. And you had never loved anyone more than him.

***

On your way to the shops, you were singing a little to yourself. Your shift had ended early, because of an accident at the factory, and you had suddenly found yourself with some extra time on your hands. Alfie hated you working, didn’t think it fitting for his girl, but still he knew better than to challenge you on it.

On your way, you thought about something Alfie had said to you. Apart from playing these games with him, he said you always played it safe. That you cared too much about what other people thought. And it had irritated you that he thought so, mainly because you knew he was right. You did as people expected of you, except when you were with him. It was like you only dared to be adventurous when you were with him, and no one else was allowed to see that side of you. Maybe it was time to show the world how bold you could really be. So you whispered to yourself, “Truth or dare…” And your mind, suddenly aroused with excitement, told you: dare! And you asked the first sailor you came across, because he was bound to know. Quickly, before you could change your mind, you decided you were going to do something that really, really scared you, just to show Alfie you could be brave too. About an hour later, you were standing outside the tattoo shop again. It had taken them some convincing, but eventually the artist had agreed. Adrenaline still pumping, you looked at your new ink, shining brightly on your wrist. You smiled at yourself, proud of what you’d just done. And then you hurried to show Alfie. But on your way, fear started flooding you. What if he didn’t like it? Maybe he’d tell you’d been an idiot? And what if you two wouldn’t be together forever? Then this new tattoo would look stupid! And, most of all, what would people say? You suddenly envisioned your life as an outcast of society and it wasn’t a great image… You found Alfie at his bakery, who greeted you with his usual, “Hello, love!” You didn’t reply, because for the life of you, you couldn’t find the words. “What’s happened?” he demanded, serious at once, “I’ll fucking kill them.” “Nothing,” you stuttered, “I just think I’ve made a mistake, Alfie…” “No, you haven’t,” he seemed absolutely certain, “you’re the smart one, ain’t you, sweetheart, you think things through. You plan and scrutinize and organize and strategize…” “Not when I’m with you,” you interrupted. Alfie grinned, “And I like it that way.” You showed him your tattoo of a crown, identical to the one he had on his hand. For a moment, Alfie seemed lost for words. “I know,” you said, utterly defeated. And then he burst out laughing, loud and high-pitched, “Who the fuck are you and what the fuck have you done to my Y/N? Because this, this isn’t you, right?” “I dared myself.” “You fucking dared yourself… like the devil in de desert, yeah?” “If you’re the devil, then, yeah,” you could smile a little already. Alfie always managed to cheer you up somehow. He took your wrist in his hand and studied the tattoo, “That’s gorgeous, that is,” the verdict finally came.

“You really think so?” “Yeah!”, he called out, “That is brilliant, it really is, sweetheart, because you know what? It just so happens to be, right, that I’ve got one on my hand that is quite similar to that one. Who would’ve thought, eh?” You grinned. Alfie was silent for a bit and then said, “You’re staying with me tonight, sweetheart.” “Am I?” “Be bold,” he challenged, “you know you can now.” You knew you’d stay. You always would. “You got a tattoo of a fucking crown,” he mused out loud, “just like that. Now that shows some fucking balls, doesn’t it,” he continued talking to himself as he walked away, “and she dared herself, imagine that!” And then he called over his shoulder, “Didn’t think it possible, but I think I love you even more now, darling!”

***

At night, even London was quiet. When you were kids, you used to sneak out of your homes to meet up and you’d wreak havoc wherever you went. When you got a little older, you still snuck out, but tried to attract as little attention as you could. By the docks you’d find each other and in the dark, you became intertwined in every way possible. Ever since, the nights were yours. During the day, others could expect things of you and demand your attention, but at night, you’d always come back to each other. And so here you were, lying together in the dark, in a world entirely of your own.

“Truth or dare, baby,” you said, softly. “Truth.” Pausing for a moment, you asked, almost shy, “Do you really love me?” He grinned deeply, “Nah, it was my turn, wasn’t it?” “Cheat,” you grumbled, knowing he was right, “Fine, but you better answer me after mine is done.” “Truth or dare?” Alfie said triumphantly. “Truth.”

He pretended to think about it for a long time, “How about you come live with me, permanently?” You furrowed your brows, “What do you mean?”

“You know, right here, in Camden. Or we could move to someplace quiet, if that suits you better, although quiet and peaceful might be the last words I associate with you if I’m being perfectly honest… I’ve always loved the quiet little place by the name of Margate… But wherever you want, sweetheart, you tell me and I’ll make it happen. Tear down the whole of fucking London for you. Just you and me,” he waved his hands elaborately. And when you didn’t react, he added, “I’m asking you to marry me, sweetheart!” “Ooh…” your eyes widened, as you suddenly understood, “are you sure though?” “Course I am. “Wait!” you suddenly called out, “What about Edna?” Alfie frowned, “Who?” “Someone said you were married to a woman named Edna?” “Someone’s been telling fucking lies, haven’t they, because obviously I’m not married to some shikse named Edna.”

You smiled and looked deeply into the eyes of the man you loved. It was strange how he could be so terrifying, how people flinched when they heard him speak, because he sounded either mad or simply dangerous, and how people were put off by his appearance. But when you looked at him, like really looked at him, you only saw this utter and complete softness. “Yeah, I’ll marry you, Alfie.” “You can be my queen then,” he said gently, puppy-dog eyes staring at you, devoted, “with a crown to match.” You smiled cheekily, “You can be queen and I’ll be the king.” “Fine, we’ll both be kings. You and me. ”

And when you snuggled closer to him, Alfie knew you were finally satisfied.

*** Masterlist

[imagineandimagine]

Satisfy Your Taste

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x You(female reader)

Summary: Alfie discovers that his new business partner is pretty hot. He’ll just have to seduce you. 

Warning: Ostentatious, unapologetic kissing. Things should get spicier in the following chapters. 

Tommy was running late. He was supposed to be at the club to discuss a deal with Alfie Salomons but you were probably going to have to stall for time. The moment the clock chimed, in walked Salomons with his crew.

You cussed under your breath, you inhaled deeply to calm yourself before you turned to the men that entered, “Gentlemen!” you exclaimed with a wide smile. “Welcome! My name is Y/N. If you would…”

Alfie cut your little speech short, “Where is Shelby?”

Straight to the point, just as you expected, but you had to distract the men until Tommy arrived, “Please, make yourselves comfortable. What would you like to drink? It’s all on the house, of course.”

Alfie smiled mischievously. You hoped that he wasn’t catching on to what you were doing but the moment his men heard the word ‘drink’ they all started chatting amongst themselves excitedly but none of them dared to move before they had explicit permission from their leader.

Alfie sensed the anticipation around him, he gave himself a moment to contemplate, before he said “Go on you lot, go get your drinks.”

The men cheered and scrambled past each other to the bar.

Alfie remained firm on the spot, sizing you up, and you sensed that he was waiting for you to make the next move.

With a bright smile you took him by the arm and walked with him, “We have a private area where we can talk about business. We just had leather chairs put in and a chaise longue, they’re all very comfortable...”

He arched his eyebrow, “A private area, you say… Comfortable for what?” he paused, wanting you to continue.

Was he just teasing you or was his mind on something more notorious? You lightly squeezed his arm and attempted to change the subject, “Let me be honest with you Mr Solomons. Tommy will never admit it but by the way he talks about you, I feel like he harbors a deep respect for you and he sees you not only as a business partner but a close friend and men of your station don’t have many opportunities to make real friends. Don’t you agree?”

Solomons smirked “Friends, you say…”. His gaze was intense but for a moment it seemed to soften. He parted his lips like he was about to say something more but the doors swung open and Tommy entered the room with his brothers.

You let go of Solomons arm and gave Tommy a Where were YOU!? Sort of look.

Tommy’s face remained stoic as usual as he extended his hand towards Alfie.

You let out a long exhale while the men greeted each other. Tommy opened a stained glass door, and you all entered the private area that you so highly recommended.

-

You sat on the chaise longue next to Tommy, across from Alfie who made himself comfortable in an armchair.

Alfie turned to you first, “So, Miss y/n. What is your…”

Tommy cut in before Solomons could finish his question “She’s my partner.”

Alfie frowned, “When you say ‘partner’...what exactly do you mean?”

Tommy leaned forward, “I mean, she helps me manage the business and she’s the one in charge of the club when I’m not around.”

Alfie turned to you again, “Is that right, Miss Y/N?”

You nodded, “That is correct.” you knew that you should have said something more but the man was making you nervous and you were afraid that if you said anything more you would just start to mumble. It was better to let Tommy talk while you steadied your breathing and became more accustomed to the man’s presence. Why was your heart beating so fast? This man really had a unique kind of charisma about him, even though he made you nervous, you couldn’t get enough of him.  

Tommy continued the business proposal he had prepared as he set several documents on the table ”….Supply us with alcohol and in exchange we’re willing to store any shipments that you find troublesome to store due to legal restrictions. We have several strong rooms located under the club.” Tommy stood up and buttoned his vest, “Follow me, please and we’ll happily show you the location.”

Alfie put his hat on, “Let’s go then,” he said as he stood up.

You stood up too and walked behind Tommy.

Tommy opened the door but before he could take another step, Alfie grabbed his arm.

“Ladies first,” Alfie gave you a nod and pushed Tommy aside to make room for you.

You smiled politely before you passed the two men. You tried to appear unfazed as you felt a heavy gaze upon your silhouette when you walked through the door.

-

After the tour of the strong rooms, you went back to the bar. Alfie gestured to one of his men to come over. He took out a dark bottle out of a sack that the man was carrying. “Perhaps you’d like to sample the product Miss Y/N.  Try this and tell me what you think.” He poured the brown liquid into a glass.

You took a sip and tried your best not to gag. Somehow you managed to swallow the liquid, “I mean no disrespect Mr Solomons…”

Solomons put his hand up “Alfie. Please. Call me Alfie.”

You hesitated, trying to think of any nice by honest words to describe the brown sludge swirling in your glass,  “Alfie. I mean no disrespect but this isn’t the best tasting whisky. I’m afraid it’s not my favorite. Then again, I’m no expert when it comes to whiskey.”

Alfie chuckled, “I appreciate your honesty Miss y/n. Next time, I’ll make sure to bring something that is more to your taste.” He then turned to Tommy, “Mister Shelby, I think we have a deal.”

The two men spit into their palms and shook hands.

You tried to do the same but before you could bring your hand to your lips, Alfie caught your hand,  flipped it and kissed it, maintaining eye contact the entire time. When he finally let go he said “Pleasure doing business with you Miss Y/N.”

Even though you tried to hide it, it was clear to see that your cheeks had turned a deeper colour before you mumbled, “The pleasure is all mine.”

-

After everyone left, you and Tommy went through the documents to check if everything was in order.

“What was that?” Tommy said with amusement in his voice as he flipped through the papers.

“What was what?” you asked, genuinely not knowing what he meant. “I thought everything went quite smoothly, despite the fact that YOU were late to the meeting.”

Tommy shook his head in disbelief. “Well, you sure know how to keep a man distracted.”

You groaned, “Speak plainly, please. What are you insinuating exactly?”

Tommy chuckled before he took a sip of his whiskey “Alfie couldn’t keep his eyes off you. I kind of regret not asking him for something more, he’d probably agree to anything, given how preoccupied he was.”

You put the papers down and you glared at Tommy, “What’s wrong with you today? At first you were short with the man, not letting him ask me anything and then butting in when I tried to say something and now you’re making up some wild assumptions.”

“Assumptions? Everything seemed pretty clear to me. I was short with the man because I thought he was making you uncomfortable but you cozied up to him real quick. ‘With all due respect Mr Solomon’, ‘It’s my pleasure Mr Salomon’, ‘Shall I open my pretty little…’ ” Tommy mocked.

You stopped him from finishing that sentence, “Shut up, Tommy! You’re delusional! You can finish all this damn paperwork yourself!” You shot back before you stormed off to the bar.

-

Tommy left a few hours later. When he tried to wave to you, you pretended to be very preoccupied with cleaning a glass. He just laughed to himself and left.

When you were finished polishing the glasses, you stepped into the now empty kitchen. You thought that you finally had a moment to yourself when you heard a knock on the back door.

You thought that it was a late delivery but to your surprise, it was your new business partner, “Mr Solo…Alfie. Is everything alright?” you looked him over, he looked a bit disheveled.

Alfie let out a grunt and squeezed his arm, a red stain was forming on his sleeve. “May I come in?”

You quickly ushered him into the kitchen and told him to sit on the bench. You got a first aid kit out of a cupboard. You’ve patched up every one of the Shelby’s many times on that same bench, so you already knew what to do. You rolled up Alfie’s sleeve and got to work.

Alfie put his hat on the bench, “Thank you. It’s just a small cut. Nothing really. It’s just that…” he paused, “I was upset… There is something that has been weighing on my mind. I just cant’s seem to…”

“All done.” You said smugly putting the first aid kit to the side.

“Aren’t you quick.” Alfie said as he examined his bandaged arm.

“I’m guessing that your arm wasn’t the only reason you came here tonight. You said something was weighing on your mind? You were upset?” you patted yourself on the back for being more bold in Alfie’s presence but that quickly went out the window.

Alfie suddenly placed two fingers on your cheek and made you look at him as he leaned in, “Perhaps a kiss, to make me feel better then?” He said with a toothy smile.

The close proximity made adrenaline shoot through your veins, so you leaned back a little to give yourself some space, “I’ll tell you what. You tell me what’s bothering you and I’ll give you a kiss.” You couldn’t believe that you actually said that. What were you thinking? Why did you agree to that so easily?

Alfie’s stared into your eyes for a long time before he spoke, “I’m not a man that likes to share…” he paused.

You weren’t sure if that was the end of his sentence but the silence was driving you crazy, “You don’t like to share?” you asked.

Alfie sighed, “I don’t like to share how I feel…” he continued, “I find you distracting and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Another long pause that you could not take, “Is that it?”

He leaned forward, “That’s it. Now you promised me something…” he said in a hushed tone as he cocked his head to the side.

Was he actually expecting you to kiss him or was this some kind of test? You couldn’t tell so you tried to persuade him to say something more, “I’m not sure I’m satisfied with that answer…”

“Well… I hope you find this more satisfying.” Before you could react, Alfie griped your chin between his two fingers and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was surprisingly gentle, he grazed your cheek with his thumb as he deepened the kiss, you did not expect such a man to be so tender. When he slipped his hand under your dress and squeezed your thigh causing you to open your mouth in surprise, he seized that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. The feeling of his tongue on yours was making your head spin, you grabbed onto his shirt to bring him closer to you, he smelled of whisky, smoke and something you couldn’t put your finger on. Through the kiss, you could feel a deep yearning for something more within that man, as you continued to kiss, his movements became more desperate as his hands explored your body, squeezing and pulling until in spite of yourself, you moaned against his mouth. But before you completely lost yourself and forgot the entire world around you existed he suddenly stopped.

He pulled away reluctantly, his mouth still hovering an inch from yours, “Forgive me… “ he breathed “I’m being too forward.”

You had to concentrate hard in order to understand the words coming out of his mouth after a kiss like that.  “It’s quite alright…” you said between breaths.

He stood up abruptly, “I should go…” but he stood there unmoving, his eyes darting all over the place, as if he was fighting himself inside his head. “Unless…you’d like to show me a more private place, you said something about a chaise longue?”

You regained at least some of your wit before you answered, “What happened to being too forward?” you smiled cheekily.

Alfie nodded and picked up his hat, “Right. In that case…” he tipped his hat to you “Good day Miss Y/N. I’ll show myself out.” then he hurriedly hobbled out the door.

You bit your lip. If Alfie’s plan was to mess with your head, then he thoroughly succeeded.

 Author’s note:  Tommy isn’t going to be very pleased when he hears about this.

[sinfulshelbys]

Slice of Heaven | Shelby! reader

Alfie Solomons x Shelby! reader

Warnings: soft! alfie, a lot of smut, the whole secret relationship trope

Request: more secret relationship with alfie and shelby sis please 

word count: 2.7k

just some cute (and smutty) moments with our boy alfie and y/n shelby :”)

Alfie treasures these moments. 

The ones where he’s able to be vulnerable, so completely free of responsibility – and they all happen with you. His hand plays with your fingers, mindlessly twirling the gold band that is around your ring finger. His wife. 

“I don’t want to take it off,” your soft voice filled his ears – a sigh pushing past your lips, as you lifted your head off his bare chest. 

“Yer’ brothers will kill me if they knew,” he muttered back, voice low. He hated this; the constant reminder in the back of both your minds that if your older brothers found out about what the two of you did in secret the results would be disastrous. 

Threading your fingers through his, you shift so your entire body was resting on-top of Alfie’s bare one. A gentle smile graced his usually harsh features as he ran his hand through your hair; moving it to cup your cheek as you leant into his touch. 

“I’m your wife,” you beamed and you looked so adorable that Alfie swore his heart almost leapt out of his chest. “Can you believe that, Alf?”

He chuckled, chest rumbling under your palm. “Yeah, love. I can.” 

Knowing that words wouldn’t be enough to express how much love you held for your husband in that moment, you pressed your lips to his. His beard tickled against your cheeks, causing you to smile through the kiss; Alfie reciprocating the action as he sat up, shifting so you were straddling him.

“’m gonna fuck you again,” he laughed against your skin as he pressed kisses down your neck, causing you to stifle your own giggles into the crook of his neck.

It didn’t take long for Alfie’s hand to find it’s way in-between your thighs that were spread over his lap. You relish in the feeling, his thumb rubbing small circles against your swollen clit as his index and middle fingers enter you – soft sounds leaving your mouth in melodies that Alfie swears he could listen to every day. 

A soft “shit” flew past Alfie’s lips when you ran a thumb over his tip, pumping him a few times before you lifted yourself from Alfie’s hand – running his length up and down your folds and with a fluent movement he was inside you – filling you completely. 

With a shaky gasp you slowly began rolling your hips against Alfie’s who had his eyes closed in bliss. It was erotic, sensual and you both got lost in the feeling. Rough and calloused palms on soft skin – gripping your hips that you were sure you would have marks from his fingertips there in a couple of hours.

Your hand rested against the plaster wall above both of your heads, Alfie lifting his hips to meet yours in rhythmic thrusts. Your eyes shut at the sensation, head falling against Alfie’s – softly biting into his shoulder. Alfie delivered a particularly harsh thrust, hitting your that spot causing a loud cry to emit from your throat at the sensation.

“Did that feel good, eh?” He grunted into your ear, you could only nod and let out a whine as he did it again. “Yeah? Like that?”

Your legs were practically shaking as Alfie’s thrusts became erratic, chasing both of your highs as you clenched around him – causing him to let out a sharp hiss. 

Your skin flushed under Alfie’s touch, nothing but chants of his name leaving your mouth as you came around his cock. He climaxes a couple of seconds after you, your body falling against his as you both tried to steady your breathing – reeling in the aftershocks of ecstasy.   

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, Alfie gently tilted your chin to look at you – a lazy, adoring smile gracing his features. 

“I love you, Mrs. Solomons.”

He did. Truly.

~~~~~~~

Your left hand felt bare as you walked to the distillery. 

Alfie had left the house just past noon – getting ready for the meeting that you were both required to attend with your brothers, which meant that you had to take your wedding ring off so they wouldn’t find out.

The walk from the apartment that Tommy had set you up with in London, when he gave you the job of taking care of business in Camden Town for him, was a mere five-minute walk to Alfie’s work.

Upon reaching the bakery, you gave a nod to Ollie who ushered you inside, allowing you to walk straight to Alfie’s office. Not bothering with knocking, you entered the room, Alfie’s head instantly lifting to see you – a bright smile growing on his features. 

Your eyes roamed his figure, the way his white shirt tightened around his biceps as he tossed the paper he was reading aside – taking his legs down from the desk. 

“You’re here early,” he grinned, beckoning you closer by curling his hand towards you. With a smile as wide as his, you walked around to his side of the desk; perching yourself on the edge right in front of him.

“Thought I’d have you for myself for a little while before my brothers arrive,” you teased, revelling in the feeling of his hands running up your thighs.

“Yeah, you didn’t have enough of me this morning?” 

Snickering, you leaned forward to capture him in a kiss – pausing when you were but mere millimetres apart. 

“Not nearly enough,” you whispered before finally meeting his lips with yours. “How long do we have until they arrive?”

“I’d give it a good twenty-minutes, right. What do you have planned?”

“I want you to fuck me in your office, Mr. Solomons,” you felt Alfie’s hands tighten their hold on you at your words. “Right here on your desk. Bend me over and take me as yours.”

“Right, yeah, well I can’t disappoint the missus now, can I?”

Before you knew it, your pretty blue skirt was bunched up around your hips, Alfie’s hand on the back of your neck keeping you in place as he fucked you over his desk. 

Your mouth was parted as loud moans left your lips, gently wrapping his hand around your throat – Alfie pulled you up so your back was flushed against his chest; fingers tilting your head in his direction. 

“You look so pretty like this,” he grunted, his thrusts relentless. 

Alfie was fucking you so well that you couldn’t form any words other than his name and the occasional ‘fuck’ – causing Alfie to lean down, whispering a “watch your fucking language” in your ear; the new angle causing you to cry out in pleasure.

Your hands could barely hold you up, as you reached your high – Alfie reaching his only a few seconds after you. Alfie was gentle as he pulled out of – his hands carefully pushing your skirt back down as you tried to regulate your breathing. 

“One day, right, I swear that one day yer’ going to kill me with your wild Shelby genetics,” Alfie snickered as you turned around with a bright smile on your face – his hand gently brushing away strands of your hair that stuck to your flushed cheeks.

“Not if my brothers kill you first,” you snickered, rushing around to the other end of the desk when knocks on the door filled the air around you. “Which they might do if they catch you with your pants still down.”

Alfie could only burst into genuine laughter as he pulled his pants up in a haste, shaking his head at how much he loved you.

~~~~~~~

Music was the last thing Alfie expected to hear on a Sunday morning. 

Nonetheless, there was definitely music coming from the parlour of his house downstairs and his dog, Cyril, who he was certain fell asleep next to him last night was nowhere in sight.

With an exasperated groan, Alfie rubbed his eyes but he was in no rush to get out of bed – knowing that if he was in any imminent danger the intruder definitely wouldn’t be playing ‘The Boy I Love’ as loud as the record players volume would go.

Clambering out of bed, Alfie made quick work of getting clothed – running his hand over his unruly ginger beard that definitely deserved some time, love and care. With heavy steps, he made his way out of his room and down the flight of stairs – stopping on the last step at the sight before him.

There you were, like a fucking angel, clothed in nothing but one of his white shirts and a pair of stockings – dancing around the parlour, while singing along with the song with Cyril at your feet.

He chuckles and lets a wide smile grow on his face as he leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, watching in amusement and all he could think was; this is it. 

This was his happy ending. 

He watches as you twirl in circles while singing into the spatular in your grasp, before your eyes catch sight of his figure and you stop – almost tripping over your two-left feet.

“Alf!” You beam, before rushing over to him and grab his hand – pulling him into the middle of the room. “Dance with me?” 

Your words are coated with honey – almost as sweet as you and Alfie can’t find any reason as to say no. So with a nod in confirmation, he watches as you rush to change the record to a slow song before you slide over to him with giggles falling past your pretty lips. 

Your arms wrap around his neck and his slither to rest on your hips as he begins to sway you both on the spot. He leans his head down to rest his forehead against yours causing both your eyes to shut and he just knows that this is all he wants for the rest of his life. All he needs is you – and Cyril – and anywhere would feel like home.

You are home.

~~~~~~~

“Alf, can you read to me?” 

Alfie raises a brow at your question as he looks down at your head in his lap – his hand playing with your hair pausing mid-twirl. He blinks once as you hold up the book in your hands, an adorable pout on your lips.

“Why?” He questions, instinctively taking the book and flipping to the page you had dog-tagged.

“Because I’m getting sleepy and can’t focus on the words,” you yawn, the tiny sound causing his heart to flutter. “And your voice is soothing.”

Alfie bops your nose before he shifts so you were sitting – moving you under his left arm as your palm rests on his chest. Pulling on his glasses that were hung around his neck, Alfie clears his throat as he begins to read from where you left off – immersing himself in the tale of The Great Gatsby. 

He briefly pauses every few sentences to read over little markings you had made on things you liked or hated about a certain quirk the characters had or something interesting about the plot. Pretty soon he had finished the chapter, tagging the new page before shutting the book before looking down at your sleeping figure.

Your hand had formed into a tight fist, clenching the thin fabric of his shirt between your fingers as your lips parted and tiny snores flew past them. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, Alfie takes his time to shift your sleeping body until he was laying down on the lounge with you on his chest.

He falls asleep not even a minute later – arm wrapped protectively around you.

~~~~~~~

Alfie might’ve disguised his distillery as a bakery – but the man had never spent more than five minutes in an actual kitchen. So when you had suggested baking a pie together, he instantly knew it was going to be disastrous. 

He could vividly remember the tales that your aunt Polly had told him of your unfortunate kitchen endeavours. The older woman being the only one in the Shelby family that you had informed of your relationship and while she was whole-heartedly against it at first, you had convinced her to have dinner with you and Alfie one night, which she reluctantly accepted on account of your tears.

By the end of the night she was sending Alfie home with a kiss on his cheek and promise to come over for dinner again the same time next week – which he did. Eventually those dinners lead to Polly being the only one in your family who was there to witness your marriage – promising to keep the union secret until you were both ready to face your brothers. 

“No Alf you’ve got to mix the wet ingredients into the dry,” you pushed his hands away from the bowl before pausing, your eyebrows furrowing. “Or is it the dry with the wet?”

“Does it matter, aye?” Alfie questioned you, wrapping his arms around your waist – resting his head in the crook of your neck. “Won’t it still end up the same?”

“I don’t know!” You stubbornly huffed causing Alfie to laugh before he twirled you around in his arms, pinning you between his body and the counter top.

“Why didn’t you ask Pol for help? Yeah, I think she would’ve been more help that yer’ husband in this situation.”

Your laughter rings through the kitchen as you began fiddling with the buttons of his vest, he grins a little before beginning to pepper kisses down your neck to your collar bone – his fingers pushing down the straps to your dress. 

“Alf-” you whispered as his hands gripped under your thighs to lift you onto the counter. “This isn’t very hygienic.”

“The kitchen, yeah, is for food to be made and served right?” You nod to his question, tilting your head as he begins to bunch your dress up your hips. “I’m just going to eat the meal that I’m given.”

He could only cockily grin as you pushed him down onto his knees like he was at church – and by all things Holy was he going to worship you.

~~~~~~~

The beach in Margate always had a calming sensation on Alfie. 

He loved to just walk along the soft sand, letting the crisp wind prick at his skin as Cyril ran a few meters in-front of him. But now he loved it even more because he got to experience it with you.

His hand held yours as you both walked along the shoreline, the sounds of waves crashing and the occasional ship horn in the distance filling the atmosphere. 

Every few steps you would stop in your steps, causing Alfie to stand idly as you reached down to pick up a new shell – excitedly showing it to him before placing it in your purse. He couldn’t complain, not when you looked so endearing while showing them off, but he still couldn’t help but question you.

“What are yer’ going to do with all those fuckin’ shells?”

Resting your head against his bicep, you giggled as Cyril ran past you before you responded to his question. “I’m going to make a necklace.”

He smiles and it’s soft and gentle – two feelings that people would never believe Alfie Solomons could express. 

“What are yer’ going to where a shell necklace with, eh?” His nose crinkles as he laughs, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“It’s not going to be for me,” you tell him confidently, eyes meeting his. “It’s for you.”

“Me?” He chortles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Do yer’ want people to think I’ve gone soft?”

He watches as a small frown creases your pretty features before you pull away from him – a bright smile replacing your glower as you take running off after Cyril.

And the truth is that Alfie had gone soft. Because later that night Alfie sits at the dining table going through deals and contracts, his eyes floating over to your figure on the other end – watching as you made the necklace that he gratefully accepts once you complete it.

He never takes it off after he see’s the way your eyes light up and feels how much love you hold for him as you pull him into a passionate kiss. Because in all honesty, Alfie Solomon’s was putty in your hands and would do anything you asked him to just to make you happy. 

You were his little slice of Heaven and he would never get enough of you.