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skipscabin · 5 years ago

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As Long As I Have You - Alfie Solomons x Reader

Request: Hi! Can I have a reqquest with Alfie Solomons? Where he and the reader have a kid and they got into some danger or being kiddapped? I’m craving for the fact that our favorite jewish gangster have a kid. Agnst but kinda happy endig? If you interested in my idea! Have a lovely day! :)

Thank you for this one @springsoulofengland, I hope you don’t mind but I did this as a follow on to Treat Her Fair. Update: somehow I managed to delete the original post, so sorry again for tagging you.

Warnings: cursing (I mean, it’s Alfie), kidnapping of a child, mention of guns

Despite all of the stories and the rumours, Alfie Solomons was a good man. In all the time that you had known the infamous gangster, he had never once caused you any harm or treated you unfairly. As your employer over the last few years, he had been more than kind to you, providing you shelter when you had been disowned by your Mother, leaving you on the street with nothing but a suitcase containing your small amount of belongings. Her words still resonate in your mind as if it were yesterday, “No daughter of mine is going to be working for a filthy gangster like him.” You remember arguing for hours with her, defending him, trying to make her understand. But that woman was too set in her ways, nothing could change her mind.

So, with your suitcase you had walked all the way to the bakeryin the pouring rain.When you arrived, you were quick to realise that there was nobody there, but your instincts had told you to knock regardless. Two, long minutes past before the door unlocked and opened slowly, and on the other side stood Alfie. He had ushered you in, taking your suitcase from your cold hands, locking the door behind the two of you. That night, he had sworn to you, that regardless of your employment with him, if you needed anything at all, he would be there to help you.

That night was nearly five years ago, and a lot had happened in that time. After numerous meetings with the Shelbys from Birmingham, Alfie had expanded the business. And you? You were now his partner, in terms of business. On a personal level, you were his wife. After his first initial meeting with Thomas Shelby, the day he had defended your name, you agreed to join him for dinner that evening. It was the next day, when you had both arrived to work in the same car that the men started to talk. Ollie was forced to round the men up the same afternoon, where Alfie proudly stated that you were both together, threatening anyone who dared to speak about the matter again. As he wrapped up with the men, he had glanced across at you, leaning against the doorframe of his office, illuminated by the lamp behind you. In that moment, Alfie had never seen anything so beautiful.

Only a year after you had begun courting, the two of you were married. There was no ‘official’ engagement, so to speak. Alfie had asked you on a whim, completely unprepared, with thought in the back of his mind telling him you would say no. To his glee, you had answered with a squeal and launched yourself into his arms. That night he had profusely apologised for the lack of engagement ring.

“Alfie, I don’t care about a ring, as long as I have you.” It was the first time that you had seen Alfie blush. Despite your words, he had promised he would buy you the most beautiful ring in the entirety of London. Your laughter had filled the room at his words, knowing that he would stay true to his word.

And that he did. Two weeks later, Alfie came home with a black box within his grasp. Nervousness was clear on his face. What if you didn’t like it? What if it wasn’t what you had been expecting?

When he handed the box to you, he had held his breath. Hoping that you weren’t disappointed. On opening the box, you heart missed a beat. The diamond inside was delicate and glittering in the light of the kitchen window.

“Alfie,” you had looked at him with tears pooling in your eyes that were filled with happiness, “Alf, it’s beautiful.” Right then, Alfie wanted to marry you on the spot, more than he had ever done before. The ring was nothing extravagant, he had known you’d hate something so obvious and bold. So instead, he travelled to the finest jeweller in London, requesting a small, delicate diamond that would be perfect on your finger.

On the day of your wedding, Alfie had been overcome with a mixture of nerves and happiness. Never in all his years, did he think that he would be marrying anyone, especially someone as beautiful as you. Between the both of you, you had decided to incorporate your beliefs, following traditions of both. As expected, there was none of your family there to celebrate with you, although you had sent them invites before anyone else. Alfie had held you close as the sun had set, promising you a life where you would not want for anything.

He made love to you for the first time that night too, taking his time, ravishing you in every way possible. You had seen Alfie in his undergarments before, but never entirely nude, so when he had undressed in front of you, standing in all his naked glory, you had blushed profusely. This being the first time you had ever been with a man this way.

You were nervous and had been honest with Alfie that you were, so he helped you undress, kissing your exposed skin where he could, making sure you were okay with his actions.

He took you on the bed, guiding you and holding you through every motion. After were both spent, he had held you as you slept, with the prayers of a child to become of your love.

Those prayers were answered, and it was not long before you had discovered that you were with child. Alfie had been ecstatic when you had told him after returning from the doctor. And in the May of 1923, your daughter was born. The both of you had decided on the name Adinah. Alfie was enamoured, nothing could compare to the love that he held for the little girl he held in his arms and it is on the day of her birth that he vows to protect her forever and that no harm will come to his baby girl.

February 1925

The snow is just beginning to melt as you watch from the living room window. Adinah is sleeping peacefully in the armchair next to you. It is strange for you to fathom that your little girl will soon be turning two in the coming months. Alfie has been trying to convince you for another child, hoping dearly for a boy, although he has made it clear that regardless of whether it is a girl or boy, he will love them dearly.

Adinah is the apple of his eye and just like her mother, has him wrapped around her tiny finger.

Looking at the grandfather clock that stands next to the front door, you decide it best to make a start on dinner, Alfie, accompanied by Cyril, will be expected to return home within the hour.

Ensuring that Adinah is comfortable, you cover her with a blanket and then proceed into the kitchen. Gathering all of your ingredients together, you hum along to the tune of a song you cannot name. As you begin chopping vegetables, you here the front door burst open.

“You’re home early, Alfie.” Assuming he must be having a difficult day, you return to the living room but instead of Alfie, you are faced with a stranger. A stranger whom is grabbing your daughter as she sleeps. “Put her down.” The man speeds up his actions, roughly taking your daughter from where she lays and makes a run for the door. Still with the chopping knife gripped within your fingers, you chase the man through your front garden and down the street. You do not care that you have left both your door and garden gate wide open. You do not care that you are screaming and disturbing every person in their homes. It seems to be your luck that the street is clear of any other residents. You push your body harder to shorten the distance between you and the unknown man but your lack of shoes on the uneven paving is enough to slow you down.

As you come to a crossroads, you notice a black vehicle, parked up with its engine running. Three other men, dressed in suits, brandishing machine guns, stand menacingly. As soon as they clock onto the man running towards them, they throw open the doors for him. But it is too late.

Your foot catches in the stones and your ankle twists painfully, causing you to groan in pain, gritting your teeth. This isn’t the time to be thinking about yourself. Your little girl needs you. As the man enters the vehicle, you hear shouting coming from the other men, their words you do not understand. But their language you recognised. Italian.

Alfie decides to walk home from the bakery to let some fresh air into his lungs and to give Cyril his exercise. The walk between work and his home only takes five minutes at his pace. When he is only metres from his street, Cyril’s ears prick up and he barks loudly before sprinting around the corner. Alfie tries his best to catch up, but the cobblestones don’t help him move any faster with his cane.

What he finds as he enters his own street causes panic to erupt in his veins. There is a crowd of people, all of them seeming concerned. As he gets nearer, some of the residents look at him with sympathy. What the fuck has happened here? A quick glance to his home, he can make out the front door wide open and the gate bouncing back against the wall from the soft breeze.

Alfie can make out Cyril within the group but when he sees your figure kneeling on the floor his heart stops. Forgetting his cane entirely, Alfie throws it to the side and hastens his pace to get to you.

“Out the way.” His voice booms, the crowd separating to let him through. When he finally gets to you, he feels like he is going to be sick.

Your hair is mussed and face red and blotchy from crying. Some of the women are trying to console you but you push each of them away.

“Love?” As soon as you hear Alfie’s voice, you open your eyes and stare at him. He ungraciously kneels down in front of you, pulling you to his body. You bury your face in his chest and sob. Alfie silently directs everyone to leave them be and knowing of his work, they all follow his request without question.

“T-they-“ He rocks you back and forth, not letting you go. “They took her, Alf.” His one fear was confirmed at your words. His heart feels like it gains ten pounds, a heavy weight in his chest. Tears instantly begin to stream down his face, uncaring of who sees. The most important thing to the both of you is gone. And he blames himself.

The journey to Birmingham was long, the silence deafening. Alfie was sat in the back of the Cadillac on your left, your hand in both of his. Thumbs, dancing over your knuckles, toying with the diamond on your finger. Tears have long since dried on your cheeks after the long car ride, but your breathing is still ragged, eyes red and swollen from crying.

“We’ll find her, love. Yeah?” His voice is gentle, a tone he only ever uses with you and your daughter. You nod your head at his promise, biting down on your lip, enough to draw blood as you try not to let the tears that have once again pooled in your eyes fall.

“Alfie, what if we-“

“We will, love.” He squeezes your hands to reassure you, a soft smile on his lips. You knew Alfie is strong, but it is in this moment that you see just how much he truly is. Hours before he had been a mess, screaming and shouting orders at his men, throwing anything within his reach across the room. But now he is composed, or at least trying to be. His eyes are still bloodshot from the crying that he had done in the privacy of his office before leaving hours previously. Tears still threaten to fall from his eyes but being Alfie, he will not let them fall in the presence of anyone else but you.

You place your free hand on the top of his, your fingers twisting at the wedding ring that sits on his left hand.

“Mister Solomons, we’re here.” Alfie clears his throat as Ishmael speaks, he sits up straight, preparing himself to exit the vehicle. Gently, he lets go of your hands and reaches across for his cane. Ishmael opens the door for the both of you, holding it open as you both exit the car. Before you step down on to the concrete pavement, Alfie reaches out with his empty palm, taking your hand in his. Once you are steady on the uneven pavement, he reluctantly lets go of you, allowing you to stand on your own. As you look at the pavement and the cobbled road itself, you immediately regret wearing your heels, but there is no alternative.

Alfie walks to stand in front of the car as your trail behind him.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you lift you head to look at him as he speaks, “smells of pig ‘round ‘ere don’t it.” Your eyebrows raise as you shake your head, turning to look behind you to Ishmael, he has a knowing smirk on his face. At least it is clear that your husband is trying to make light of the situation at hand. “Definitely not kosher.” At that further comment, you hear Ishmael disguise a laugh underneath a fake cough.

“Alfie.” Your tone serious, you try to get him back on track.

“Come to Small Heath and you will go to hell,” he turns and looks around at the dull, coal stained street, “for fuckin’ breathing”.

“Alfie.” This time you raise your voice, his name harsher on your tongue this time. Crossing your arms over your chest, you send him a glare as he raises his eyebrows at you. “I know this is how you like to do this Alfie, but our daughter-“. You choke on your words as you unfold your arms, throwing the down to your sides in defeat. “Alf, our daughter is in danger and we need to find her before it’s too-“

“I’m sorry, love. Alright?” He limps towards you and wraps you in hug. “We’ll find her, yeah. I promised, didn’t I?” Nodding your head, you wipe at your face, removing the evidence of your new tears.

“Let’s just get this done so we can go home, please.” He nods his head as he backs away from you.

“Ishmael, please, will you hit the call of prayer?” Always one to make an entrance your Alfie. Ishmael opens the car door and hits the horn once. Stunned, Alfie looks over at you rolling his eyes and raising his brows. “Well, hit it.” Again, Ishmael presses the horn, only for a fraction longer. Losing his patience and composure, Alfie pushes the tails of his coat out and crosses to wear Ishmael stands. “Thank you.” He makes eye contact with the man. “Thank you.” His words are laced with sarcasm and it takes everything in you not to reprimand him. As soon as Alfie’s palm meets the horn, you have to cover your ears. The blaring sound fills the streets, bouncing off of brick walls. Moments pass before a door across the road opens and out steps Thomas Shelby himself.

You watch the man approach the three of you, hatred burning in your eyes, even though you try your best to hide it. Once, Thomas is standing directly in front of your husband, does he let up from the horn. The silence that follows the noise is like a shock as your ears adjust to the quietness once more.

“Morning, Alfie.”

“Yeah, it is. It is.” The sarcastic tone from his voice is gone, now his words hold only malice.

“Morning, Y/N.” Thomas directs his attention to you. “Or should I address you as Mrs Solomons?” “Y/N is fine. You know why we’re here. Now talk.”

“Not out here, people listen.”

Thomas Shelby was on edge during the meeting with both you and Alfie. During this time, Alfie refuses to sit, instead opting to continuously pace the wooden flooring, you are sure if he keeps it up that he’ll wear a hole into the ground.

“As you said before, I know why you’re here. But you must understand, your daughter’s disappearance has nothing to do with me.” “Disappearance?” The word leaves your mouth before you can even think it. It takes everything within you to not threaten the man who sits in front of you nursing a tumbler of scotch. “Our daughter was taken, Mr Shelby.” The room has gone silent except for the sound of your voice, Alfie standing still, watching the tension build between yourself and Thomas. “From outside our own home may I add.” Your face begins to flush with anger as you continue. “This wasn’t some random fucking kidnapping. This was targeted, Mr Shelby.” You take a deep breath before looking him directly in the eyes, his unwavering, little to no emotion in them.

Downing the remainder of his drink, Thomas Shelby looks from you to Alfie, still emotionless as ever.

“I’m sorry to you both, but I’d still like to know, why you have come to me?” As you open your mouth to speak, you are interrupted by your other half.

“Because Tommy,” he dramatically pulls the chair next to you away from the desk, the scraping of the legs on the floor sets your teeth on edge, “from my understandin’, you’ve been dealing with the fuckin’ Italians, mate.”

“And?”

“Thought you were smarter than this Tommy.” Alfie’s grip on his cane has his knuckles whitening and you are sure if he tightens his grip any further, the ornately curved wood will split. “Fuckin’ Italians that took her ain’t it?”

Thomas audibly sighs and leans back comfortably in his chair.

“Yet, I still don’t understand, why you have come to see me.” His tone is harsh and bitter, glaring daggers at the both of you.

“Well, Tommy. It just seems funny to me, mate, yeah. That you come down to London, to see me, discussin’ your current,” he pauses to think of a suitable word, “predicament, shall we say?” Alfie loosens his grip on the cane as he catches you watching him, a saddened look on your face. “Then the next week, our little girl, yeah. Our little girl, is kidnapped by the same fuckin’ family, that you are currently at war with.”

It is then the Shelby’s expression alters to one of realisation, swiftly followed by shock.

After another hour of thinking through the situation, Alfie Solomons and Thomas Shelby devise a plan to get your daughter back. One that could get the both of the killed, it was a risky idea, but they were willing to do anything to exact revenge for their families. All they had to do was draw in Luca Changretta and convince him to bring your daughter along to the deal.

It is two days later when Alfie bursts through your bedroom door, hat askew, scarf hanging from his shoulders, telling you that the Changretta’s have agreed to the meeting with Thomas Shelby. Since returning from Birmingham, you have found comfort in your shared bed, only leaving to use the lavatory. You shoot up from underneath the covers but before you can start getting dressed, Alfie grabs you by the arms gently.

“Don’t even fuckin’ think about, yeah.” He lowers you back into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. “You are staying right ‘ere for when we get back. I ain’t having you in danger, alright?” You open your mouth to argue but Alfie will not change his mind. “You are staying right here. Yeah?” You nod without a word. “I’ll be back before sundown.” As he stands, he places a soft peck on your lips, then cheek and then with a soft smile he turns to walk towards the door.

“Alfie?”

“Yeah, love?”

“I love you.”

“I fuckin’ love you too.”

Four long hours you wait for Alfie to return home. You had dressed soon after your husband had locked the door behind him. Now you sit staring out the front window again, Cyril sleeping by your feet, his loud snores filling the room. Due to the weather outside the house was cold and a blanket wasn’t enough to keep you warm. Standing carefully, trying not to wake the dog splayed across the carpet, you enter the kitchen to make yourself some tea. It is the whistling of the kettle that prevents you from hearing the key turn in the door and noticing Cyril’s ear perk up. So, when you turn around, china cup full to the brim with steaming tea, you are in shock to find Alfie stood there, your daughter sleeping peacefully in his arms.

“Alright, love?”

Immediately, you place the teacup down and run the short distance to your little family. You wrap your arms around Alfie and your daughter, holding them both to you tightly. Adinah begins to stir from her slumber and when her tired eyes see your face, she reaches out to you. Alfie passes her over as you cuddle her to your chest, placing soft kisses on her forehead.

“Mummy’s here darling. I’ve got you.” You breathe in the scent of her as you rock her in your arms.

By eight in the evening, both you and Adinah are asleep on yours and Alfie’s bed. He makes sure that the both of you are comfortable and warm before lying next to you. When you stir softly, you smile at him.

“Thank you, Alfie.” Your voice is evidence to show how exhausted you are after the last hectic few days. Shaking his head, Alfie places his left hand against your cheek, thumb stroking across your cheekbone, and grazing your lashes. “Were you serious about another baby Alf?” He chuckles under his breath, trying not to wake the little girl nestled in your arms.

“’Course I was love.”

“Then let’s do it. Let’s have another.”

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