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janeyseymour · 2 days

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La Cosa Nostra- pt 11

cowritten with @schemmentis

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.

Summary: Melissa's pissed with recent news, the Feds are back at it, and you go to a place and person to find some comfort.

WC: ~2.05k

At this news, Melissa quickly slips into the seat on the other side of Dom's table. “Are ya crazy? I told you they've already torn this place to shreds, and you want to bring the money in through here?” She hisses as she leans more into the middle of the table. “Listen, losin’ the salon is already bad enough. You know what it did to Y/N when you took her off it.”

“That didn't come from me, Mel. I just had to deliver the message. You know that.”

“I don't care who it came from. You knew, and you did it just the same. Now you have the coglioni to sit here and say we should run it through here. I already ain't gonna forget the slightin’ of my wife, youse know that- the lot of you. You wanna tell me I gotta run this shit through my restaurant? Then tell me. Don't act like this is some proposition, Dominic. Tell me what to do, and I'll handle it. ‘Cause you and I both know how this shit works, but I am tellin’ you,” Melissa points an index finger at the man across from her sternly. “Right here, right now, I am tellin’ you; this fucks up my restaurant and youse all are gonna have a much bigger problem than the fuckin’ Feds, capisce?”

Dominic's face remains neutral, though there is an amused glint to his eyes as his palm shifts along the head of his cane. He nods quickly and respectfully to Melissa. “We want things to go well even more than you do, kid.” He says softly.

Melissa leans back in chair, arms crossing over her chest. She raises an eyebrow, silently urging him to say what he needs to say.

“We'll work out the details on our end. You only have to make sure you're here when the money comes through. Simple as that.” Dom says. He sighs when Melissa still merely stares at him expectantly. “Sí, sí. We're telling you this is how it's gonna work from now on. Clear out a spot in the office in the back. Nobody else needs to know it's anythin’ different than a regular shipment comin’ once in a while. None of it happens if you ain't here. This is big, Lissa. They're trustin’ you.”

“Like they trusted my wife?” Melissa spits out as she pushes herself out of the chair. “Texts only. They call and wake up my girls while they’re sleepin’, I'll take one of my bats to their kneecaps.” She adds on her way past Dom in his seat to storm back toward the kitchen.

You raise a brow as you watch your wife storm into the back and Dominic starts to slowly make his way out. You grab one of the other servers milling about, silently asking them to keep an eye on your girls while you go check on the redhead.

When you get into the back, she’s slamming her fist into the linoleum counter where they prep the food. Her hand is already bruising, and you take her fist gently into your own.

“My love,” you whisper as you hold her hand in yours.

“Let me go,” she hisses.

You shake your head, refuting her request. “You’re hurting yourself. You know I can’t let you do that.”

“I don’t give a shit,” she grumbles as she starts to curl her other hand into a fist. You grab the other one before she can even think about causing damage to that hand.

“Melissa.”

“They’re usin’ the restaurant as their new front,” your wife tells you quietly. “Said that it’s what we have to do, and they trust me… that we’re in the clear because the feds saw how busy we are and that we bring the girls around here, so it has to be safe.”

“I’m not letting you do this,” you tell her. “And I’m not letting them put the girls in danger.”

“We don’t got an option, Y/N. I told Dom I would handle it,” Melissa sighs as she leans against you. “And I will. You just… take care of the girls. No matter what happens.”

“Melissa, don’t talk like that- like you’re gonna die.”

“I’m just being realistic. You did the same when they were using the salon,” your wife says softly. “We both knew that if something happened, I’d have to keep the girls safe. But now, it’s on me, and I know that you’d do the same if something were to happen. We don’t have a choice.”

“Fuck,” you whisper again. “Shit.”

“Get… get the girls out of here, and tell them that I’ll be home late tonight,” your wife runs a hand over her face. “I have to make it work here.”

“No,” you say softly. “I’ll… I’ll get someone to come pick them up so I can help you.”

“Y/N,” Melissa grits out. “Go. I can handle this.”

You give her a look, one that tells her she doesn’t have to do this- that you’ll handle it. You don’t want to have her be the one in danger.

But she just shakes her head and insists you get the girls out of here- just in case Dom did give the two of you up, and he’s setting you up for failure. The girls cannot watch their mother(s) go down.

You cradle her face in your hands, kissing her a few times. “No more punchin’ things, hey? Can't have you bustin’ up those pretty fingers more than you already do.” You whisper. “I'll take care of the girls. You do what you gotta do.” When she nods, just a little, you kiss her one more time before finally turning away.

You gather your girls with a thank you to the server watching them for you.

“Mam! We have to wait for Mommy!” Cat is insisting as you walk with both your girls out the front door.

“Auntie Val needs Mommy's help tonight, sweetheart. So, we're gonna go home and make sure everything is cleaned up and nice for her, okay?” You speak to your girls though you're glancing around the parking lot on the way to your car.

You take note of Dom's car pulling out but don't see any cars with sirens or lights careening into the lot afterward. You carefully buckle your girls into the backseat. When you're shutting the back door after making sure they're both safe, you look around again on the walk around to the drivers side. There's nothing different or out of the ordinary. No sign of agents or officers. Which means Dom has only done exactly as he said he did.

You slip into the driver's seat, throwing your seatbelt on. You swallow as you carefully pull out of the spot and towards home. Dom telling the truth is maybe worse than if he had flipped. They're really putting this on Melissa and Twelve Tables. Part of you despises it. The amount of risk it puts on your wife. You know it intimately. The other part, the part that grew up in all this and doesn't know anything else, that part is proud as hell. It isn't anything to turn your nose up at to be entrusted with the process of mafia money. It speaks volumes. Volumes that equally excite and terrify you.

Danik and Shaw are back at the precinct, contemplating everything that Dominic told them- that you and your wife had nothing to do with the murder of Bobby. He told them that even if you did have something against the man, you could never do anything- you rescue wasps because you don’t have the heart to kill them despite the fact that your wife is always screaming at you to kill the damned demons. They go over the fact that you bring your twins into your restaurant, you take the girls to church with you, you always are on time to get the girls to and from school. If you were a part of the mafia and mob that dealt with things pertaining to ordering hits and murder, you wouldn’t be such dutiful mothers.

But they also know that you never brought the girls into the salon- they’ve only ever seen the two girls with you at the restaurant. And that is a bit suspicious in their eyes. So, they plan to head back to the salon the following day.

When they get there, you aren’t there- which is unusual. You’re almost always there, and they know that. Instead, Tony is out on the floor with the other stylists. But you are nowhere to be seen; your car isn’t even in the lot. And it isn’t in the lot because you’re somewhere else.

You’re sitting in the sanctuary of your church. After dropping the girls off at school and leaving your wife to her restaurant turned mafia front, you go to the one place where you can find some sort of solitude- because even now your home reminds you of everything happening in your world.

There’s no service today, so you find yourself sitting in the back pew by yourself, looking up at the ceiling. You’re speaking silently to whatever God is out there to please spare your family from all of the heartache that you can only imagine is in your inevitable future. Finally, you bow your head, and you begin to weep silently.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when you feel someone slide into the pew next to you and wrap an arm around your shoulder. Your eyes pop open in surprise, and when you look next to you, Barbara is sitting there.

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t ask why you’re here and not at the salon or at the restaurant. She doesn’t mention that she knows what the two of you do outside of your legal businesses. No- she sits in complete and utter silence as she holds you gently. And you can’t do anything about it. You can’t explain why you’re here in a puddle of your own tears, not without giving away what she already knows to be true. So you don’t say anything. You just continue to cry out your fears and worries over everything while clinging to the shawl that Barbara has draped over her shoulders. And when you pull away, you let out an ugly, choked out laugh.

“You probably think I’m crazy.”

“Crazy? For coming to the one safe little corner of the earth where you can feel anything and do anything and not be judged for it?” the woman asks you. She shakes her head silently. She takes your hand in her own, and together the two of you pray. You don’t realize that she is praying for the same thing that you are, but she is. The two of you silently pray that you’ll somehow get yourself out of this mess- that your family will be able to return to some sort of normalcy- or better yet turn a new leaf and start a new life where there is no mafia or mob, no illegal businesses that put everyone in harm’s way.

And when you lift your head, hers is still bowed for a few seconds before she lifts it with a quiet, “Thank you, God.” And then, as if nothing happened, she pats your hands gently with her own and goes on her way.

You take a few deep breaths once Barb is gone. Carefully trying to get yourself together. You wipe at your cheeks and eyes, focusing on the distant altar at the pulpit. You sit in the last pew, breathing deep and slow. Staring at the large depiction of Jesus on the cross behind the altar. Slowly, you feel the serenity you were hoping to. You don't know that praying will do anything, actually change anything, but it's at least felt like getting it off your chest. In a way that doesn't jeopardize your family or anyone else. You suddenly understand Barbara's devout faith. You can't say that will ever be you but you get it. You make the sign of the cross over your head and chest as you finally rise from the pew and slowly make your way out of the quiet church.

TAGS (and let me know if you want to be added!): @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #mel #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

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janeyseymour · 2 days

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HI SHIT GOES DOWN START READING IT BITCHES

Tags: @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 10

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

Summary: Barbara learns the truth and you spy someone unexpected talking with the Feds...

WC: 3.4k

Barbara Howard is still thinking about the fact she has this ledger, and Melissa does not want it back. The woman knows that she shouldn’t open it- not with the explicit instruction from her friend to not open it, but she feels the need to. Perhaps she could help to balance the checkbook and find where the issues are in the ledger.

So, with Gerald in the office and the girls nowhere around, the woman of God opens up the ledger. And when she sets her eyes upon it, she can’t help but gasp.

It isn’t what she expects to see- not in the slightest. No, instead there are a bunch of names that she’s heard were rumored to be connected to the Irish mob, and others that she knows she's heard her husband mentioned before in his work. Lo and behold- there is the Schemmenti name.

Barbara slams it shut. She should turn this over to the police immediately, and she nearly does. She’s actually in her car and about to pull out before she stops to think what this would mean for your family.

Turning this over means that you would end up in prison, potentially Melissa too if she has any ties to this side of the illegal business. It means that the girls would grow up without a mother figure, perhaps two- ending with those two sweet girls who Barbara absolutely adores in foster care and away from her. It means ripping a family apart that she absolutely adores, even if they do have a hand in what her husband actively roots against. She cannot do this to the Schemmenti family, she decides.

Without a second thought, she hides the ledger that she now knows the truth of in her glovebox. And then she pulls off out of the driveway and heads for church.

When she gets there, she slides into the back pew silently. Barbara is the only one there, no sermon taking place. But she needs the strength that God can give her, so she prays to God by herself.

“Dear Lord,” she whispers softly, head bowed down. “Please... please grant me the strength to carry what I am holding with me now. Please keep those beautiful little ones safe and out of harm’s way. Please... please keep those two, who you know I am speaking of, safe. Please... if not for the two of their sake, for their little girls. Lord, please. I am begging. I am here begging... because even though they are wrapped up in shady business, they are good people. They are two wonderful women who would do anything for their little girls. And God, please... if something does happen to them, please do see to it that those two little ones are spared of the understanding and disparity of the world. Gerald and I will take them in if we have to. Just please, keep them safe, and keep them from this dark and depraved world that we live in- because they don’t deserve to grow up in this world without somebody, anybody who loves them for who they are.”

She slips out of the church with her eyes down, as if she doesn’t have something that could quite literally get her killed. The woman of God speeds back to her house and hides the ledger back where it once was. There is no way she can let anyone find out she has this- especially not her girls.

By the time you leave Mickey, you feel that you know what you have to do. You have to continue to fight for this- if not for yourself, than for your family- the family that is real and true. You feel the slightest bit better having been able to speak to Melissa’s brother, and as you drive through the countryside, you allow yourself to hum along to the music that plays softly through the speakers. You’re more at ease than you’ve been in the past few days.

When you pick up Melissa, you park the car in the lot and head in through the back. She looks so at ease now, in her element. She’s humming softly to herself as she and Val continue to prep for the dinner rush, and you can’t help but let your eyes go soft as you take in the beautiful sight and sounds.

You snake your arms around her waist and kiss her cheek and then behind her ear in that one spot that almost always makes her shiver. “Hi, my love.”

“Ciao, mi amore,” she whispers back to you as she craned her neck to kiss you gently. “How was your day?”

“Actually…” You start before pausing long enough to kiss her lips again before letting her return most of her focus to her prepwork. Your arms stay around her waist. “It was good.”

“A quiet day around the house did you good, huh hun? I knew you'd relax eventually.”

You prop your chin on your wife's shoulder. “I went to see Mickey,” You admit softly. You watch your wife's hands as she works. You notice the small pause in their process when she hears what you've said before they keep moving.

“What'd you go all the way up there for?” She mutters as she chops a pepper with a bit more force than before. “‘S a long drive.”

“A drive I needed. It helped clear my head, I think. I'll make it up to you by staying home bored out of my skull tomorrow?” You say, attempting to joke as you squeeze her waist lightly.

Melissa is quiet for a long moment. You don't push her to speak her mind. Instead you let her think as she works, just enjoying being in the presence of your favorite person. You're about to pull away from being so in her space when she sets her knife down.

She turns in your arms, hands on your wrists to keep you from stepping away when she moves. “You coulda talked to me and helped clear your head. Instead you went all the way to the pen.” She sighs, lightly brushing stray hair away from your face. “It was that bad, hey? You needed my goofy ass brother's advice?”

“C'mon, you know it ain't like that, babe.”

“Then what's it like? Tell me.”

“We've both been stressed to hell ‘bout this. How was I gonna just…talk to you ‘bout it? Wring us both through it for the hundredth time?”

The fingers caressing your cheek slide down in order to grip your jaw. “I'm your wife.” Melissa reminds softly. “That's kind of my job, amore. Go through the wringer with you as many times as we need to. I meant it when I told you ‘for better or for worse’.”

You smile at that, just a bit. You remember when you had first started seeing each other- how you both had your doubts and fears. You remember the day that the two of you decided to lay everything out on the table, weighing the pros and cons of intermingling your businesses and how it would affect both your personal and professional life. She had told you that day that she was in it if you were. You answered her with a passionate kiss. You also remember the day that the two of you were wed and your families were officially tied together- the way that as you both spoke those words in front of your families to witness, Melissa let go of her tough act, her voice wavering and eyes shining with tears, as she told you that the two of you would be together for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til death did the two of you apart.

And you have seen each other through better and worse. You’ve seen her on the happiest of days- the day you found out you were pregnant, the day the girls were born, when they took their first steps, when she opened her restaurant. And you’ve seen her through the lowest of lows- the day her Nonna died, the day she finally cracked under all the pressure with opening Twelve Tables, how she’s had quite a few moments of doubt when it comes to raising the twins. You’ve seen each other through moments of wealth, as well through moments where you were living paycheck to paycheck and doing everything you could to make ends meet. You’ve both seen one another in sickness and in health- whether that be while you were suffering from terrible morning sickness during your pregnancy with Cat and Rosie, or when the two of you were taken down by the flu that the girls brought home from daycare. You’ve held each other through it all, loving and cherishing every waking and sleeping moment that you share together, and you fully plan on it until death does the two of you apart.

Now though, the two of you aren’t sure when it will be that death parts you. For all you know, it could be tonight. And that… terrifies you beyond belief. Even before, when things in the business got rocky, it’s never been as bad as it is now. You’ve never been in as much danger. But now? Now you’re on the forefront of this operation, and you have the feds tailing you and presumably tracing your every move.

You sigh, Melissa's eyes on yours softening you as they always do- especially now with how relaxed you can see they are. She's not upset or angry, just trying to understand your choices and remind you she's here.

She uses the fingers gripping your jaw to pull your face to her own so her lips can kiss yours. “Sono con te amore mio. Sempre.” Melissa whispers the reminder against your lips, her hand sliding away from your jaw to the back of your neck as she kisses you deeper this time.

The sound of someone clearing their throat loudly behind you in the room makes you pull back after a moment. You gently press your forehead to your wife's, not moving away further.

“Hey, Val.” You greet your wife's manager without looking.

“How many times am I gonna have to remind you the restaurant is off limits to foolin’ around?” She teases with a smile as she moves past both of you.

“That depends.” You say as you slowly pull away from Melissa, though not completely. Your hands are still on her hips, hers are still at the side of your neck and gently threading the fingers of her other hand through your hair. “How long you plannin’ on workin’ here?”

“As long as your wife lets me, Y/N. You know that.” Val tosses back easily.

“Then I guess you got at least a hundred or so more reminders that might happen.”

Melissa lightly hits your shoulder for that. “Stop.” She murmurs. It doesn't sound that much like she means it when she kisses you again. “Lemme finish what I'm doin’ then I'll be ready to get the girls.”

You continue to hold the redhead by her waist as she finishes chopping the cilantro used for garnish before she sighs softly. “Okay, let’s go get our little tornadoes, and then… Val, I’ll be back for the dinner shift.”

“Melissa, you know I have it handled if you want to spend time with your family,” the manager reminds her.

“I think I need to be here,” the owner states. “But I might just have to bring my circus with me.”

“We’ll see you later, Val,” you nod in the woman’s direction as you guide your wife out the back door.

The second that you’re out of the restaurant though, your wife has you pinned up against the stone wall. It catches you off guard, but it’s not unwelcome.

“Honey,” you mutter against her lips after a few minutes- your wife’s hands and lips wandering. “Baby, as much as I would love to… you do have security cameras out here, and we do have to pick up the girls.”

She groans but does pull away. “We need a night where we aren’t both so exhausted, and we can actually have time to ourselves where we aren’t just sleeping.”

“I’ll see if I can take the girls to one of our parents this weekend,” you promise her. You lead your beautiful wife down to the car, and you pull off in the direction of the girls.

Once you’ve collected them, you take them back to the restaurant, and they are all too thrilled to jump on Valentina with hugs and kisses.

“Can you keep an eye on them?” Melissa asks her manager. “Just for like… twenty minutes?”

Val eyes the two of you, who are still very much undressing each other with your eyes. “No.”

“You still want a job?” your wife threatens, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let me remind you that I do own this place.”

“You wouldn’t fire me,” Valentina rolls her eyes. “Fine. Just… don’t… anywhere where I’ll be able to see it on the security cameras.”

By the time the two of you reenter the restaurant, you’re both much more at ease. The girls are sitting at their designated table in the back with their coloring books and crayons with Val, giggling as she too doodles with them.

“We really need to give her a raise,” you sigh softly as you watch with a soft fondness in your eyes.

“Oi, remember who you're married to.” Melissa says with a small jab of her elbow to your ribs when she sees your look at the twins with Val.

You roll your eyes but kiss your wife again just to make sure she knows you definitely didn't forget. “Like I could forget being the luckiest woman in the world, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah, just watch our girls, sweet talker.” Melissa answers despite her smile and a tint to her cheeks.

You take over coloring duty to let Valentina follow your wife back to the kitchen for the dinner rush that's starting to come in. The twins chatter with you about their days over their crayons and pages. You manage to keep them quiet and contained to your table until Val is bringing out little plates for them for dinner. You smile knowing well that it's your wife's work and nothing at all that's actually on the menu. The best and solely Melissa made things were reserved for your tiny twin terrors.

“Mommy!” Both your girls are saying excitedly, with mouths full a few minutes later.

“Stay here.” You say softly at them starting to scramble for your wife despite her making her way over.

Melissa sets a plate in front of you and one next to you for herself. Quickly kissing the heads of your girls and murmuring to them softly as she wipes their faces. It's only then that she takes her spot next to you for her dinner break.

“You comin’ home with us for bedtime or are you stayin’ to close with Val?” You ask as you work on stabbing another forkful of pasta.

“I don't wanna make ya come back.” Melissa answers. “It'll be late and I don't want to—”

“No fuckin’ way.” You cut your wife off when you glanced back up from your plate, your eyes catching a table across the restaurant floor.

“Mam! That's a bad word!” Rosie says loudly from her spot standing on her chair next to you instead of sitting. You wince as most of the sentence is said directly into your ear.

“Mam you gotta pay the jar a dollar!” Cat exclaims from next to her sister, referencing the swear jar on the entertainment center in your living room.

“What is it?” Melissa asks, seeing your face. “Rosie, sweetheart, sit down before you fall.” She adds without even looking at your youngest.

“Sit down completely.” You add when you see Rosie merely crouch on her chair instead in the corner of your eye. You lean a bit more into your wife, gesturing as subtly with your fork as you can. “Look at who's sittin’ at the table ‘cross the floor.”

Melissa glances about the room, looking like she's merely checking on the restaurant and that her staff is working even though she's on break. You know when she sees it though because a half second after her head is turning back to face you, her eyes wide.

“I know that is not Uncle Dom sittin’ with the Feds in my restaurant.” She hisses out at you.

“‘Cept it is. It definitely is.” You retort, forcing most of your attention back to your meal and your daughters.

“You think he's talkin’?”

You scoff at your wife's question. “Dom? Flipping? I don't think so, babe. I think he'd sooner have a heart attack at your restaurant for the dramatics of it than do that.”

“Then they're pressin’ him.” Melissa guesses, doing her best to not seem as if she's noticed that particular table at all.

“Or tryin’ to.” You cede. “Maybe finally gettin’ closer on the Bobby business. Realized it ain't somebody like us they should be worried about.”

“God, if only. I ain't gonna put my guard down yet though.”

“I wouldn't.” You agree.

You're nearly finished eating when Val comes to your table, leaning close to your wife's side. “Dom is askin’ for you. I told him he'd have to wait.” She relays, glancing between the two of you for reactions.

Valentina doesn't know about the salon and it's extra business. She doesn't have to, though. She lives in the neighborhood and she knows plenty well who people like Dom are. If you guessed, you'd imagine she has an idea of who you and your wife are, too.

“Thanks, Val. I'll take care of it, huh? You mind bringin’ the girls a couple cannolis?”

You groan as your daughters cheer and Val walks away. “Baby, why?”

Melissa leans to kiss your cheeks. “‘Cause they've been little girls on their best behavior for their moms tonight.” She says loud enough for the twins, shooting them a smile. “And to keep them occupied just a little longer.” She adds in a whisper to you.

You reach and grasp your wife's wrist as she gets up to leave the table, watching Agent Shaw and Danik rise from Dom's table and shake his hand before they leave. You look back to Melissa who looks down at you. “Be careful, yeah?” You whisper before you kiss her knuckles.

She smiles, her fingertips brushing your cheek in affection when you pull away. “I'll be fine.” She promises before stepping away to weave through the tables on her dinner floor.

Valentina comes over and brings your girls dessert, and they grin the entire time that they eat, the chocolate sauce and raspberry sauce finding its way more to their cheeks than their mouths. You silently curse your wife as you usher them into the bathroom to clean their sticky faces and fingers- but you have to admit that they’re absolutely precious.

“Why’re you here?” Melissa asks the older man- the one who took your salon out from under you. “And why the hell were you talkin’ to the feds?”

Dom shrugs. “I wanted dinner.”

“You know you can always get dinner over at Ma’s. You have no business bein’ in here during our rush, and you know that,” your wife says pointedly.

“They were askin’ me questions,” he tells her. “Asking about you and the restaurant- if this place had anything to do with Bobby’s murder.”

“What the hell could they be askin’ ‘bout?” the redhead grumbles. “They already searched the damn place and tore it up. I’m sure you heard about it.”

“I told ‘em that the restaurant is legit,” Dom says quietly. “I told ‘em that you put your whole heart into this place, just as you do with the salon… that they need to stop harassin’ you, or there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

“We already told them that,” Melissa mutters. “They have no right showin’ up here like that.”

“Well, they did,” the man shrugs. “And it seems like you should be in the clear with the way that they saw how business is conducted- that you brought your girls here. Which is why, I have a proposition for you.”

“And that would be?”

“We start using Twelve Tables as the front.”

#abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

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janeyseymour · 4 days

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Two Families Become One- pt 4

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Summary: the last addition to this little verse for now- you and Melissa get married.

WC: ~2.45k

With the upcoming wedding, which both you and Melissa had agreed to be a very small gathering of family and the Abbott clan (much to Ellie’s dismay), along with the paperwork for Ellie to become an official Schemmenti just mere days after you, life was more than a little crazy.

Both of you were wrapping up the school year with teaching, Ellie was as hyperactive and excitable as ever with everything coming up, and nothing seemed to calm the chaos that was constantly overtaking your life at this point. It was far and few between at this point that you took her to the park or even got a moment of peace and quiet with your fiancée. No, those days were gone and replaced with various planning meetings- both for school and for your upcoming wedding, because even a small wedding requires much attention- alongside various meetings with the family lawyer that you had hired to ensure that Melissa could adopt Ellie without any flukes.

But the school year wraps up, Barbara helps to assist the two of you with anything from ensuring that your marriage license would be ready by the wedding date a week after classes were done to taking Ellie off of your hands so the two of you could head down to the law firm to finalize paperwork to simply helping organize all of the materials that had been used between both of your rooms to help lessen the ‘organized chaos’.

You remember asking Janine if she would stand there with you- because you wouldn’t have been able to make it through a lot of this without her entertaining your little girl. And of course, Barbara was asked to stand right alongside your soon-to-be wife when the day comes. Both women cried tears of joy as they launched themselves into your arms. Ellie, not wanting to be left out of the hugs, makes her way in and giggles.

You also remember asking the custodian of the school to be the one who marries you. He too had cried tears of joy and promised that he would do the two of you good. Although he was curious as to why you would ask him.

“You’re a part of Abbott too,” you told him quietly, hugging him tightly. “You’re part of the story too.”

And now, here you are standing in front of your family, Melissa’s family, and the rest of the Abbott crew while Mr. Johnson of all people marries the two of you. For a small affair, Ellie had begged you to do as much of a traditional wedding as possible. So, Melissa is standing up at the makeshift alter with Mr. Johnson as you hover over by one of the trees planted in the backyard just out of sight. Ellie is given the silent signal from your fiancée to start walking, and she giggles with glee as she twirls around and throws white rose petals into the yard. When she makes her way to Melissa, the little girl all but grabs her in a hug, forcing her to bend down and return it. With the way that everyone lets out a small, ‘aw’, your daughter hams it up and kisses Melissa’s cheek for good measure before taking her seat next to your mother and Melissa’s grandmother.

When Mr. Johnson hits play on his phone connected to the speaker and your music comes on, you turn away from the tree and make your way over to the ‘aisle’. Your breath catches in your chest as you glance at Melissa for the first time today. She looks… stunning. Her hair is perfectly curled, her makeup is done with precision and care, and she looks absolutely amazing in the white pantsuit that her and Barbara had slaved away at to make sure it fit just right.

Melissa’s mouth quite literally drops open at the sight of you. Tears instantly well in her eyes as she sees how… how perfect you look. You had opted for a white satin dress that you had found on Amazon to cut the costs, and Nonna herself had altered it so that it sat on your shoulders beautifully, the slightest cowl neck hanging just low enough to show off a bit of cleavage. Your hair is down with the softest braided headband to keep the flyaways away, and you smile softly at her. She nods, and you begin walking down with your father, who is an absolute blubbering mess despite already having done this once for you. He gives you away before engulfing the redhead in a hug. He whispers something in her ear, and she just nods gently before kissing his cheek. Your flowers are taken from your hand and given to Ellie, who was delighted when she found out that she would have the duty of holding onto your little bouquet for the ceremony.

You don’t remember much of Mr. Johnson’s opening remarks because you’re too distracted holding onto Melissa’s shaking hands in your own and looking into eyes that match the grass beneath you. It doesn’t much matter though, because Gerald has been given the job of recording everything for the two of you as a wedding gift.

What breaks you out of your trance is the custodian announcing that the two of you have written your own vows. You nod, and Barbara hands you the paper that you gave her to hold onto.

“I- wow,” you whisper as you take her hand again, the other holding the paper with your script on it. You turn to the small group gathered around. “For those of you who don’t know… Melissa and I didn’t actually meet at the school. No, we met after I flew across the country with nothing on my back but a backpack filled with clothes and toys for my daughter while we figured out what we were going to do away from Utah. A month into living with my parents, I was able to find an apartment that would be suitable for me and my little girl, and a week into living there… I met this one- or rather, I saw her. She was coming out of the apartment complex to get into her car, and I was trying to corral Ellie back into the bike trailer to get some dinner. Of course, little girl just had to throw a fit, one that Melissa witnessed.”

“Oopsies!” Ellie giggles, forcing a laugh from everyone in the audience.

“I was beyond embarrassed.” You turn to face your future wife again. “I probably looked like a terrible mother, stressed beyond all belief. And then… you came and knocked on my door, telling me that I looked real stressed and asking if I needed any help. Since then, you have been there for not only me, but for my little girl- soon-to-be our little girl. In the midst of all of my own drama and messiness, I gained a job, a friend, and then I fell for you, and I’m happy to say that I think you fell for me too?” That gets a chuckle out of everyone, including the woman standing in front of you. She nods warmly. “I could not be more grateful for the love and life that you have shown me; walks in the park, a warm home cooked meal on a good day or a bowl of soup when I’m down; flowers just to say ‘I love you’. You have always been there for me through the happy moments and also the moments of insecurity when it came to raising Ellie or a day at work, and I promise you that I will always be here for you- no matter what. Through the good times and the bad, thick and thin- and we’ve had plenty of both, I will spend the rest of my days proving to you that you, and Ellie, are all I could ever need. I will always be here… right by your side, loving you, even if it means that I have to be the one to rescue the stink bugs and take them out of the house.”

The redhead wipes her tears away from her face as she lets go of your hand to grab the paper that she had written on from her jacket pocket.

“Everyone here knows that I wasn’t too keen on getting married a second time,” she starts. “And I was hellbent on keeping that promise to myself, to keep my heart guarded and safe, until I met you and threw everything I knew out the window.”

Mr. Johnson nods his head in agreement, getting a laugh from those who were not standing on the little platform.

“I knew what I was getting into when I realized that I had feelings for you… that there would be times of uncertainty and doubt- times where things got messy, and surely they have,” she awkwardly chuckles. “But I also knew that I was always going to be second in your life… always trailing behind little miss Ellie girl.”

The little girl grins up at the two of you, with wide eyes.

“And second place is not a place that I would usually prefer, but I think I can handle it if it’s to the perfect daughter that you’ve raised and that I now get to help raise. I love you, and I love Ellie more than I ever thought I was capable of. I’ve cherished the good times, loved supporting you and loving you through the bad, and adored every other little moment in between. It has been my absolute honor getting to fall in love with you, and I only continue to fall more in love with you everyday. Everyday, you show me something new that not only surprises me, but gets me to fall that much deeper in love with you. And I know that you will only continue to surprise me and bring an abundance of life and love into my own life, and for that I am eternally grateful to you.”

She reaches up to gently wipe the tear that’s trailing down your face before smiling at you softly.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“I’m not done,” she smirks at you. She turns to Ellie and waves her up. The little girl looks confused, but she follows the order of her mother. You lift your daughter up to your hip and hold her there as you wait for Melissa to start again.

“I knew that marrying you also meant that I would be marrying into your little family, and I would have to step up and be a second parental figure to Ellie… so I want to make these vows to both of you.”

Ellie clutches at the necklace that the redhead gave to her when she asked if she could formally adopt her, tears already starting to pour down her face, with the biggest smile you think you’ve ever seen.

“I promise to love and support you both through thick and thin. I promise to make spaghetti when Ellie wants it, and to make you chicken noodle soup whenever you aren’t feeling well. I promise that I will always be here to help you through all of your doubts and fears, and I will always be there to celebrate the highs. We’ve been through it all at this point: from the start of our relationship, to celebrating birthdays and milestones at work, to right now. We’ve gotten through this much, and no matter what happens from here on out, I promise to be by your sides, loving you through it all. I promise you, that I will love the people that you become just as much as I love the people that you are today.”

You reach a hand up to wipe at the tears that are now hitting your chest in rapid succession from your little girl as she reaches for Melissa to hold her instead. The redhead of course takes Ellie into her arms, holding her tightly.

“I love you, little girl,” the second grade teacher whispers as she kisses your daughter’s cheeks.

“I love you too, Mommy,” Ellie chokes out.

Then her eyes meet your own. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Then you look to your little girl. “Alright, love bug. Go take your seat so Mom and I can officially get married.”

She squeezes Melissa tightly before letting her go. Then she squeezes you before rushing back to her seat in between your mother and Nonna.

Mr. Johnson says a few more things before he finally announces that the two of you are wife and wife, and then Melissa is dipping you and kissing you with passion. Your crowd hoots and hollers as they celebrate the fact that you’re now married and are a Schemmenti now.

The reception is really just a free for all at the Howard residence, everyone milling about and enjoying the various foods that the Schemmenti ladies had insisted on preparing for you all- their form of a wedding gift to the two of you. Kristen Marie even came and brought the cake from the bakery that she knows you absolutely adore. It’s beautiful, and it tastes even better than it looks.

“Know that if Mel was marrying anyone else,” the blonde tells you lowly. “I woulda brought a shit store-bought cake and laughed. But it’s you, and I know Ma and Nonna would kick my ass if I fucked up today for you and Ellie.”

You just laugh. “Kristen Marie, when are you going to just admit the fact that you love Mel.”

“Never.”

The party goes well into the night, but after a bit, Ellie is exhausted. The Howards have graciously told you that they would take your daughter in for the night, and once you get her settled in the guest room, you and your wife join the party again. It doesn’t last much longer, the older folk heading home for a decent night’s rest, and the younger finding their way out to allow you and your new wife to have a night together.

After helping clean up (despite the Howard protests), you too head out for your own home with promises that you’ll be back to pick up your daughter in the morning.

As soon as you make your way to the threshold, Melissa sweeps you into your arms with a chuckle, and she carries you through the front door. You giggle the entire time, and the next thing you know, you’re in bed seeing stars.

As you’re laying down in bed that night, Melissa pulls you in close. “Goodnight, my beautiful wife… Mrs. Schemmenti.”

Yeah… that feels right.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic

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janeyseymour · 4 days

Text

La Cosa Nostra- pt 9

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8.

Cowritten with @schemmentis

Summary: You go visit someone... without Melissa.

WC: ~2.25k

Monday morning rolls around, and when you feel two little hands on your face once again (is that really the only way your girls know how to wake someone up?), you groan out. Your head is pounding, your back aches from falling asleep on the couch, and your wife is half on top of you, her chin digging into your neck.

“Mam!” Cat whisper shouts into your ear. Oh, so they do know another way to wake someone up. “Mam!”

“Wake Mommy,” you grumble as you keep your eyes closed.

“But I want you!” your little girl pouts.

“I want Mommy though,” Rosie whispers as she gently shakes your wife’s shoulder. Why does Melissa get the gentle twin this morning?

Melissa peels her eyes open and smiles softly at your younger twin. “Hey, baby girl. Mommy’s awake. Why don’t you two go start picking out your outfits for school while Mam and I get up?”

The two scurry off with giggles, thrilled to be in charge of their own outfits on this Monday morning. Your wife maneuvers her way off of you before kissing you gently. You kiss her back before groaning.

“I’ll grab the Advil,” she tells you on her way to the kitchen. You stretch once she’s out of the room, heave yourself off of the couch, and follow in her direction. She’s already pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator to make breakfast, and you snake your arms around her waist sleepily.

“I’ll get the girls to school,” you tell her softly. “You just worry about your restaurant today.”

“I can help,” she protests.

“You haven’t been at Twelve Tables for a few days now,” you tell her. “I apparently don’t have a business anymore, so at least let me feel like I’m useful and contributing to the family by taking care of the twins.”

Melissa turns in your arms, and she gives you a sad look. “You are useful, and you do contribute to-” She halts her sentence when she sees what Rosie comes into the kitchen wearing. “Little miss, you cannot wear that to school.”

You release your wife and turn to see your little girl wearing one of your tee shirts, specifically the tee shirt of yours that says ‘Corona’ on it. You have to bite back a chuckle.

“But I wanna be like Mam!” Rosie stomps her barefoot against the tile.

Then Cat comes out, and she’s wearing one of Melissa’s shirts. That one has the letters ‘MILF’ printed on it- a gag gift you got for your wife when the girls were born.

The redhead smacks her forehead. “Good lord.”

At that one, you fully let out a belly laugh. “Is it dress like Moms day?” you ask.

Both girls nod with urgency.

“If you want to be useful, find them better shirts of ours to wear to school today,” your wife instructs as she runs a hand over her face.

By some grace of God, you convince them to change into more school appropriate shirts of yours and Melissa’s, and by the time you’re ushering them to the door, your wife is just slipping on her shoes.

“You look beautiful,” you whisper as you kiss her gently.

“Such a charmer,” she rolls her eyes, but she does kiss you back.

“Moms! Stop kissing!” Rosie groans as she grabs her backpack. “That’s cooties!”

“Cooties.” You repeat, leaning down to kiss your youngest twin’s cheeks. “Now you have cooties, lovey.”

You laugh as she dramatically wipes her cheeks with both little hands as you usher the girls out the door.

You see the girls safely to school, lingering just a little longer than you normally would in saying goodbye to them. You loiter for a minute in the hallway, looking through the classroom doorway at them greeting their little friends and instantly jumping into some game only kids can properly understand. You smile, relieved at least that your girls’ lives are peaceful and exactly like childhood should be- with no idea of what’s going on. You hope they never know. When they get older, they’ll surely gain some idea of the life you lead; your wife, too. They’re already too smart for their own good. It will only get worse as they age. You blame Melissa in your mind for having such brains.

You force yourself to get back to her at the thought as she waits in the car, before she can worry you’re taking too long. The plus side of owning a business; you’re technically never late. Except you know Melissa will feel like she’s late anyway. You hold her hand the whole drive to Twelve Tables.

“Pick me up before you get the girls from school?” She asks as she unbuckles her seatbelt.

“You sure that’s enough time for everything you want to get done?”

She smiles at you as she leans across the console. “Considerin’ you called in backup and Val was directing everythin’, I think it’ll be fine. Trust the people that are there for you, huh?” She murmurs before kissing you goodbye. “You taught me that one.” She winks before she climbs out of the car and disappears into the back entrance of the restaurant.

You sigh as you sit in the car, idling at the back of Twelve Tables. You have no idea what to do with yourself. You’re used to running around at the salon; taking care of clients. If you aren’t taking care of clients, then you’re making sure those that work for you are and everything is running smoothly. The occasional visit from someone in the family is handled in your back office.

Now, you have hours to kill with nothing to worry about. Except, actually… you have everything to worry about. They’ve put Tony in charge. You still own the salon, on paper, but for them to make this kind of move; it’s bad. They don’t trust you- at least not as much as they used to. They didn’t even put you in charge like this when Bobby was on his way out.

You put the car in drive, pulling out of Melissa’s restaurant’s lot. You turn right, directing the car towards the outskirts of town; and out of it. You have hours to kill. You may as well make the most of it.

You drive the backroads- open fields and farmhouses. Little neighborhoods or small towns you pass through have nothing more than one stop light. If that. Most of the time you just have a stop sign at a four way stop. Your wife might be upset later that you didn’t bring her with you. Or maybe she’ll understand. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Mickey; just you. It’s always a family affair to visit him. At least you and Melissa.

You hope seeing him will set something at ease- like he’ll remind you this isn’t you getting picked over or played. He’ll tell you that it’s just temporary. Mickey, after all, is paying the big price for the family. Time on the inside- his freedom in exchange for everything the family stands for. Maybe he can remind you why you chose this life. Why do you keep choosing it now? The only answer you have is to keep those you love safe.

There is only one real way out of the life. You might be okay if it affected only you. But you know it doesn’t. You push the image of Melissa and the girls in the church you attend on Sundays with Barb from your mind as you pull into the visitor’s parking lot of the penitentiary. Except they’re in all black, with a funeral procession with your casket down the aisle. You can envision the way that Melissa’s makeup runs down her face and her eyes are bloodshot as she clings to the girls like it’s the only thing that’s keeping her tied to this world. That’s the only way out. You don’t want your wife and girls to ever have to go through that, but it might just be what fate has in store for you. Still, while you have whatever time you do left on this earth, you’ll fight for them. That’s why you keep choosing this life, even though every day makes you question the worth of it more and more.

Mickey grabs you up in a bear hug when you walk into the visitation room. “Hey, Y/N! I wasn't expectin’ a visit for awhile yet. How ya doin'?”

Reluctantly, you fill Mickey in on the recent events. He doesn't interrupt you or interject with his own thoughts. He just listens, elbows set on the table that separates the two of you while you speak in a hushed tone.

When you finish telling him how Uncle Dom has taken you off the salon, and put Tony in, Mickey laughs. “Tony? Tony aint gonna turn a profit in that place. ‘Specially not without the side gig. But even with it…” Mickey shakes his head. “That's rough. I'm sorry, Y/N. I know how much that place means to ya.”

“It don’t even matter that much to me anymore,” you sigh. “But it’s a big source of income for us to spoil Cat and Rosie, and… I don’t know, Mick.”

You look across the table at Mickey. He's older than when you last saw him. He looks it, like the past four and a half years have aged him at least ten. He'd been in his early twenties when he was convicted. You never noticed in all your other visits to him how much he was changing, being too busy with focusing on keeping your twins near you and your wife or quiet to not interrupt other visits. Or on the occasions it was just you and Mel; too busy listening and occasionally refereeing the silly squabbles he and your wife would get into.

Mickey has gained a fair bit of muscle. He wasn't scrawny when he went in, but he wasn't buff like he is now. He's letting the stubble on his face try to turn into a beard. His eyes, the same color as your wife's, look weary- about as weary as you feel.

“You regret it?” You ask softly. “Paying this price? Bein’ in here?”

Mickey looks back at you. He’s quiet for a long moment as he truly considers what you're asking. The look on his face says it isn't the first time he's thought about it.

Finally, he shakes his head. “No. I don't. If it weren't me, it'd be somebody else, y'know? There's always another body, huh? Another Tony to put in a spot in place of somebody.” He smiles wryly at you. “I'd rather it be me.”

“But why?” You can't help but ask. “Why you? You could be at home for Sunday dinners, seeing the twins whenever. So much other shit.”

“Hey, don't get me wrong, I miss all that. I miss Ma's cooking. I miss pissing my sisters off almost more than I think I miss Ma’s cookin’. I think about the girls all the time- all the birthdays and special stuff I missed. But…” Mickey presses an index finger to the table. “Because I'm here, I know youse are all safe out there. Maybe not from everythin’ in this shit world, but from this. I'd take the fall a hundred more times if it meant keeping you, my sisters, my nieces, Ma, and everybody else out and happy.”

“I almost turned myself over. For the salon.” You whisper. This was the first you've said it out loud other than when broaching the topic with Sammy. Melissa doesn't even know.

Instead of surprise or shock; Mickey nods with a knowing look. “Yeah. You would thinka that.” He smiles, lightly tapping your hand. “Thats why I'm the second Schemmenti you'd marry, huh? We think alike. That and you’d probably strangle Kristen Marie if ya married her.”

In spite of yourself and how you feel, you laugh. “Nah. Mel would strangle me first if I even thought about gettin’ with Kristen Marie, even if we were divorced.”

“Look,” Mickey says, straightening suddenly. You're doin’ what ya can. You’re there for the twins, you have Melissa through all of this, and I’m sure she’s well aware of that. That's what counts. Sometimes this family shit….it's fucked up. But that's when you gotta remember who you really do it for. I aint in here for Uncle Dom or anybody else. I'm in here for my family. If it makes the rest of ‘em happy; that's just collateral.”

“You're readin’ too many books in here. You didn't use to be this smart.”

“I don’t got much else to do,” Mickey shrugs. “I could join a prison gang and make toilet wine, or I could try to better myself so that when I do get out, I don’t end up back in this shithole.”

“No gangs, Mickey.” You say quickly as you get up to hug him. “I don't need to keep Mel from breaking in here just to kick your ass for stupid decisions.”

“Ah, you're right. She's gotta keep you from those on the outside.” He teases with a smile before he hugs you just as tightly when you arrived.

You're almost out of the visitor's room when you hear Mickey again.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You turn to see him with one of the corrections officers right behind him, ready to walk him back.

“Take care of yourself, huh, kid? My sister needs you. Don't let her down.”

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic

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janeyseymour · 4 days

Text

I Wouldn't Tell Anyone

based off of that tiktok trend: "i wouldn't tell anyone i won the lottery, but there'd be signs".

WC: ~2.75k

Melissa Schemmenti has worked at Willard R. Abbott Elementary School for years. And in those years, the one constant in her life has been Barbara Howard. The two had started the same year, and while many things have changed, their friendship would never. No, Melissa had watched as Barbara married Gerald, witnessed the woman’s growing belly as she carried both of her daughters, had seen the ups and downs in the Howard family. And likewise, Barbara had been there to see the marriage to Joe, the divorce of Joe, the lean years… and everything in between. They’ve seen the way that teachers come and go, children grow up before their very eyes, and at this point they’ve taught children of students that they had in the starting years. Teaching practices have grown and changed- it’s really an ever-evolving world that they live in.

The second grade teacher had a solid wardrobe that she kept in rotation over the years- really just a few blazers, her signature leather jacket, the same shirt in various colors, a few pairs of slacks and jeans, and of course her heeled boots that she wore everyday without fail.

“Melissa,” Barbara had asked one day. “Perhaps you and I should hit the mall? I know some great places that have wonderful clearance sections.”

“Are you tellin’ me I need to change out my wardrobe?” the redhead teased as she threw her bag over her shoulder.

“You know that is not what I am saying, woman,” Barb rolled her eyes. “But I see the way that your shirts are starting to wear thin. I also need an outfit for the end of the year banquet that this damned superintendent is forcing me to go to.”

“When you’re part of a committee, you have to go to that kind of stuff,” the second grade teacher had smirked. “Why you think I ain’t a part of all that?”

Even after the two of them hit it off, going to the mall whenever they found themselves with enough money to spare to treat themselves to a shopping spree, Melissa’s outfits still mostly circulate without fail.

Years pass, and then she meets you one night while she’s out at the bar. She walks in, and you’re captivated. You don’t know what draws you to her, but whatever it is is magical. Your eyes hardly leave her stunning figure as she dances. You know that by the end of the night, you have to at least attempt to make a move on her.

And you do when she decides to take a break from dancing to come over to the bar. Conveniently, the only opening is by where you’re sitting and nursing a margarita.

By some grace of God, she’s been watching you too- trying to figure out how to start a conversation with you over the loud music and people dancing all around you.

She saunters up to the spot that you’re at and smiles at you. Wow… her smile is radiant.

“How come a pretty girl like you ain’t out there dancing with someone?”

“Just came here after a hard day at work,” you shrug. “Wanted a marg, thought maybe the music and drinks would brighten my spirit.”

“Well, you got the marg,” she gestures to your half empty glass. “Why don’t I buy you another, and then we can listen to the music together?”

“I’m sure you have friends here that wouldn’t want me crashing.”

“I’m here alone,” the redhead reveals. “The name’s Melissa. And you are?”

“Y/N,” you tell her.

“Well, Y/N, why don’t you let me buy you a drink, and we can be alone… together.”

You end up getting her number as you part ways for the night, and simply text her when you get home that night, time and place.

She’s just walked into her own house when your text comes through. How does Renata’s Kitchen at 5:30 on Tuesday sound?

I have to wait tomorrow and Monday to see you?

I mean, I could grab a coffee tomorrow after church if you’d rather that, the redheaded beauty sends.

You send her the address of your favorite coffee place, which just so happens to be hers as well. You wonder if the two of you have ever run into each other and just not known it at the time.

The outing for coffee ends up being an entire day’s worth of just walking around the city together as you chat about life. You find out that she’s a second grade teacher at one of the local schools and that she has Sunday dinners with her family every week (that is actually the only reason she has to regretfully leave you that day) among many other things. She finds out that you work for one of the local law firms down the street from Abbott, ironically enough. How have the two of you never bumped into each other, or at least seen each other? You get to your place of work at the same time as she does, you’ve both gone down to the same Wawa at the same time for lunch because your lunch hours coincide, and she quite literally walks past your firm to get to happy hour specials with her coworkers.

Once she leaves you to head to her family dinner, she texts you to let you know that she would still love to do dinner with you on Tuesday. You excitedly reply that you would be absolutely delighted.

The two of you have been going out for quite some time now, and it’s quite funny that you’ve both kept it on the down low. You’re a bit concerned that while courtrooms have progressed with society that if your relationship were to become public, it could get in the way of cases. And she, similarly is nervous that she could face backlash at the school she works for for being in a homosexual relationship. So, neither of you have said anything to your coworkers. And it’s all going swimmingly. While you had both just stumbled upon each other one night at the bar, not expecting to find each other, here you are two years later as a happy couple.

You land the case of a lifetime, one where you could make a decent profit off of your already relatively high paying salary. On top of that, you know that you’re about to be promoted after working with this firm for the last five years.

You end up winning the case, bringing in some good money, and then you’re moving up the ladder and finding yourself with more cash outflow than you know what to do with at the moment. It’s too much for you, living in a small apartment in the city by yourself with nothing else to worry about. So, when your girlfriend comes over to your apartment for dinner, you propose something.

“Mel?” you ask as she stands at your stovetop. She hums to let you know that she’s listening, but her eyes stay trained on the vegetables that she’s chopping right now. “How would you feel if we moved in together?”

The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board halts, and she turns to face you. “What?”

“We’ve been together for almost two years,” you tell her. “I just got that nice promotion, plus a huge payout from the settlement with DuBoise, so… I was thinking maybe we could move in together? Find a nice townhouse somewhere in the city and settle into our lives together?”

About a million emotions flicker through the redhead’s face before it settles on a smile. “I think that might be a good idea.”

So, after months of looking, you both say goodbye to your small apartments and are able to move into a beautiful townhouse in Queen Village. When Melissa files the paperwork to change her address for paychecks, Ava comes flying into the staff lounge with her eyes nearly bulging out of her head.

“Uh, ahem,” the principal coughs out and raises her brows, waving the paperwork in front of the second grade teacher during lunch.

“What?” your girlfriend grumbles as she grades a few papers and shoves a forkful of her salad into her mouth.

“Since when did you move?”

“A couple of weeks ago,” Melissa shrugs.

Barbara’s brows furrow. She wasn’t aware her friend was moving house. “Oh, Melissa. Could you not afford the place anymore?”

“Girl, she upgraded big time! Went from living in the slums to a three bedroom townhouse in Queen Village!”

“Queen Village?” the kindergarten teacher repeats.

Again, the redhead just shrugs.

“Melissa, how did you manage that? I know what you make, and there is no way you could afford to live somewhere like that!” Janine cuts in.

“Can it, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Let’s just say… I have my ways.”

Nobody is brave enough to ask the mob-like woman what the hell that could even mean.

“Well, when do we get to see the place?” Jacob tries to invite himself over.

Green eyes glare over at the man. “If I can help it, never.”

“Oh c’mon, Mel Mel,” Jacobs whines out. “I lived with you at one point! Why can’t we come see your new place?”

“At the time, I did not know it was you,” the redhead huffs. “And then you moved out on me.”

“Because I found

The second grade teacher blows out a breath. “Maybe once I have it all furnished and put together.”

So, once the two of you have the place put together for the most part, the Abbott clan makes their way over while you’re out of town for a convention that you were forced to go to.

To say that the crew is beyond impressed is an understatement.

“Melissa, this is beautiful,” Barbara compliments.

“How? How?” is all Jacob and Janine can stutter out.

The redhead just smirks. “I know a guy.”

They leave not knowing that the guy that she knows is you- her girlfriend of almost two and a half years at this point. And because it’s you, and you have an unwavering love for Melissa, the house is impeccable and everything she could ever want it to. You take good care of her.

Since moving in together, Melissa’s meals have only become more extravagant. With both of your finances almost entirely combined at this point, you spoil her with the best foods and ingredients that you can get her at any moment. So when she comes into the staff room with way fancier dishes for her lunch, it raises a few eyebrows. The teachers have seen Melissa stretch a dollar like a big headed baby stretches a… the redhead smirks.

“I know a guy,” is all she offers up.

The eyebrows of her coworkers only creep further up her head when she comes in with leftovers from one of the nicest restaurants in the city- a place known nationally for the delicate dishes and absolutely delectable desserts.

She’s eating the extra slice of cheesecake the two of you had brought home when Janine leans over. “How’d you get that?”

“I know a guy.”

“You sure seem to know a lot of guys.”

They have no idea that there are not multiple people- you are almost singlehandedly responsible for the lavish lifestyle that your girlfriend suddenly leads.

Somehow, Melissa is forced to go to one of the banquet dinners that the district is holding because she’s hit a milestone in her teaching, and they’re highlighting her. So, of course Barb offers to go with her to try to find something nice to wear to the dinner that she too will be attending.

“Oh, I think I actually have an outfit,” the redhead refutes the offer. “But thank you.”

“Girl, you never turn down an opportunity to go out shopping,” the kindergarten teacher raises a brow.

“I just… know a guy that already bought me an outfit.”

Melissa shows up to the event looking like a million bucks, and Barbara almost can’t believe it. The redhead’s hair is curled to perfection, the dress that she’s in has clearly been tailored to accentuate all of her curves and to be the proper length. The shoes that she’s wearing are not the black heeled boots Barbara is so used to seeing her work wife wear- no, instead she’s got on a pair of heels that have to be at least two hundred dollars if the kindergarten teacher had to guess.

Of course, their picture gets snapped and is posted to the school website a few days later.

At lunch, while Janine is eating and on her laptop, her eyes go wide. “Melissa!”

“What?”

“You looked beautiful the other night!”

“Thanks, kid.”

“How did you get all of that?”

“I know a guy.”

Jacob moves his chair so he too can get a look.

“Melissa, that is…” he thinks to himself quietly. “At least a six hundred dollar look! For a school event? Girl, where are you getting all of this stuff?!”

“I told youse, I know a guy.”

It’s a weekend when the Abbott crew decides to get together, and they all have plans to go to Barbara’s house for game night, but Gerald gets sick and they can no longer use the Howard residence.

“Well, I guess we should cancel,” Melissa sighs as they’re all leaving the school that day.

“What if we just came to your place?” the kindergarten teacher asks. “It’s the only other space big enough to accommodate us all.”

Begrudgingly, the second grade teacher agrees. As everyone is on their way over, she calls you.

“Hello?”

“Hey hun,” she says softly. “So… change in plans for tonight.”

“Oh? Do I get you all to myself tonight?”

“Not exactly…” the redhead trails off. “We’re moving game night to our house.”

“Oh,” you say softly, your face dropping as you thumb through papers in your office.

“Yeah,” she hums.

“I mean, I guess I can go out to dinner with my mom or something to pass the-”

“What if we just… came out? At least just to the crew,” your girlfriend suggests quietly.

You mull that option over for a few seconds. “Y-yeah. If you’re ready for that.”

“I am if you are.”

“I can pick up dinner,” you tell her. “I should be out of here by 5:30, and then I can head over to grab some food before coming home.”

“There’s…” she counts in her head. “eight of us.”

“Eight?”

“Somehow Mr. J wormed himself into this get together,” Melissa laughs softly. “Something about getting the band back together- whatever the hell that means.

Once you’re free from work, you head over to one of the nicer restaurants in the city, and because you and Melissa have become frequent flyers there, they’re able to oblige your request for a few trays of food. You leave a generous tip before packing the food into your car and making your way back to your townhouse.

Upon pulling in, you take a few deep breaths before gathering your briefcase and the food and making your way to the door.

When you push it open, all eyes are on you.

“Hey,” you sigh as you kick off your shoes and head for the kitchen table to put down all the food.

“Melissa, you didn’t tell us you have a roommate, never mind a hot one!” Ava grins.

The redhead just rolls her eyes before glaring. That glare is gone though once you make your way back into the living room and sit down next to your girlfriend.

“Hey babe,” you smile at her before kissing her cheek softly.

“Babe?” Barbara’s eyes go wide. “Melissa Ann, do you have a girlfriend?”

The redhead just smirks. “Oh, did I not mention that I am happily in a relationship and have been for two and a half years?”

“Wait a minute,” Mr. Johnson furrows his brows and looks you over. “Ain’t you one of those fancy lawyers that works at the firm down the street from Abbott?”

You nod. “Hi. I’m Y/N.” You cordially shake everybody’s hand with a kind smile.

“Wait,” Janine pieces it all together. “Is this why you moved and could afford this place? Why your meals have gotten a lot fancier, and how you could afford the clothes you wore to the dinner the other night?”

Melissa just nods. “I guess you could say… I won the lottery with this one.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction

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janeyseymour · 5 days

Note

could we perhaps get a 420 centered fic on 420 🙂‍↕️

i’m actually working on something right now that isn’t 420 related, but maybe i’ll do a belated 420 jawn !

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janeyseymour · 5 days

Text

HI HERE U GO THANKS

tags: @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 8

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

Summary: Sunday dinner brings unexpected news.

WC: 2.8k

You practically have to pry both your daughters from Barbara and vice versa after breakfast. You promise the twins they'll see her again soon. Your wife promises Barb to do her best to make it before next Sunday.

You're home for much of the afternoon, unaware of the sudden lack of eyes following your every move. At least, for now. You entertain Cat and Rosie, reveling in the extra bit of twin time as you keep them out of the kitchen and thus out of your wife's way.

Sunday morning means church and breakfast with Barb and Gerald. Sunday evening means family dinner at Melissa’s mother’s. A much different affair than it had been when you'd picked the girls up from there earlier in the week. In the middle of the week, it rivals your own house. Relatively quiet aside from your twins and whatever they're getting into.

Tonight, the house is going to have a small handful of people in every room. Mel's large family is a decent portion of it but plenty of the kind of family neither of you are related to at all will be there too. The kind of family only had by the bond of the life you're all in. In reality, it'll probably be barely a fraction of that type of family too. The Schemmentis don't let just anyone in. A type of attitude that didn't begin with your wife, or even her mother.

Since they had to dress up a bit in Sunday best this morning, you compromise with the twins on their evening wear. You send them off to pick what they want to wear to Nonna's, reminding them that you might have to change a piece or two that they pick if it doesn't match. You mentally correct it to be when they don't match. You know they both will pick things from four different kinds of outfits to make into one. Still, it helps when they have some kind of input when you can let them.

You peek over Melissa’s shoulder as the twins are off in their room choosing. She's still busy packing up what you'll be taking over with you that she's made over the afternoon. As if she hasn't made enough to feed your own family three times.

You wrap your arms around her waist, kissing her cheek. “Lemme guess, the extra container is Sammy's branzino.” You mutter as you rest your chin to her shoulder.

“I ain't gonna let him say I ain't paid him. Not in front of Ma.” Melissa grumbles.

You squeeze your arms lightly around her. “His job ain't over yet, anyhow. I told him to be ready to sue the assholes for tearing up Twelve Tables once everything has been cleared.”

Melissa laughs. “Damn right, amore.”

You smile to hear her laugh. Seeing her a bit more at ease today has healed a bit of the stress and wear you've felt. You steal a kiss or two before you let her focus on making sure she's packed everything exactly how she likes.

“No more business talk, huh?” You say as you pull away. Family might be at the house tonight but Sundays are rest days. The one day of the week you don't have to worry like all the rest.

“Cat, you have to take a coat.” You sigh a few minutes later. Her little coat held in your hands as you all stood in the doorway, attempting to leave. You'd managed to get Rosie's on just fine but her sister refuses.

“Mam, the coat doesn't go!”

You look at your wife, a bit pointedly as you know exactly where this sudden phrase has been learned. Notoriously, Melissa is much more concerned with fashion than you are. You dress well, of course. It wouldn't do to be who you are and not dress well. Still, the phrase your daughter is echoing definitely didn't come with you.

“Sweetheart,” Your wife says, looking at your eldest twin. “You have blue in your outfit, don't you?”

Cat looks down, studying her outfit before looking back up to Melissa. “I do!”

“Then your purple coat goes with it. You don't want to be cold, especially when we leave Nonna's do you?

Reluctantly, Cat holds her little arms out to you to put her coat on. You kiss her small head in affection even if she'd been making you exasperated a few moments ago. “Thank you, A storin.” You whisper before taking both her and her sister's hand to walk to the car.

As much time as it took you to get little coats on is at most half the time it takes for them to be removed and dropped at your feet once you've walked into your mother-in-laws.

“No running!” You call after your girls that already aren't listening as they hurry to join their cousins to play. You sigh dramatically as you pluck little coats from the floor before trailing after your wife who has beelined for the kitchen.

You quickly say hello before putting the girls’ coats in the room that's designated theirs when they stay over. You know better than to linger in a Schemmenti kitchen when you haven't been asked to. Especially with more than one generation of Schemmenti women sharing it already.

You say hello and mingle with those who have beat you to the house already. Business and anything close to it doesn't surface at all. It's only talk of family and what everyone's kids are up to or in some cases what trouble they're getting into for the older ones.

It isn't until after dinner that things really settle. The various rooms of the house with small groups chatting quietly. You're sat on one of the couches in the living room, catching up with Kristen Marie when Melissa reappears, claiming the seat next to you. Instantly your arm wraps around her shoulders and your lips press a kiss to her temple.

“Next week it's your turn to do dishes after dinner.” She says to her sister as she leans against your side.

“It should be Mickey's.” Kristen Marie retorts. “I swear when he gets home I'm makin’ him do it every week.”

“Ya, good luck with Ma lettin’ him. You know she'll catch on a lot faster to him doin’ your chores than me doin’ ‘em. Just like when we were kids.”

“That was only ‘cause he was such a tattle tale, you know.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

You look away from the sisters to the figure calling for you. “Hey, Luca.” You greet easily as you look past your wife. “Did you just get here?” Your brow furrows as you realize you hadn't seen him earlier in the night. “You missed dinner.”

“I'm alright.” Luca assures, waving off your worry. “Can I steal ya for a minute?”

You nod, quickly kissing Melissa before you get up. “‘Course ya can.” You say as you follow him toward the kitchen.

You think he's going to fix a plate of the plentiful leftovers while you talk. It isn't unusual for the extended family of Italians to pick your brain about things. Even just for opinion. Melissa tells you it's because you're Irish. You grew up outside of all of this even if you still grew up in the life in your own way. Either way, you've never minded listening or talking things through with any of them.

Instead of stopping in the kitchen though, Luca keeps walking through it and steps into the family room. You trail after him, your brow furrowing. He really wasn't going to eat? That just wasn't normal for anyone in a Schemmenti house.

Once you step through to the family room, you realize you aren't alone. “Uncle Dom,” you greet the older man sat in one of the arm chairs just as easily as you had Luca. “How're you doin’?”

“Good, good, Y/N. I'm sorry to steal ya away from Mel. This'll just take a minute.” Uncle Dominic assures as he shakes your hand.

Luca closes the door that connects the room to the kitchen. Leaving just the three of you in the quiet room. You suddenly don't believe it will only be a minute. Luca remains near the door, his hands crossing at his waist as he stands patiently.

You sit in the other armchair at Uncle Dom's head nodding to it. You don't ask what's going on or what he wanted to speak to you for. You know not to press or hurry. The information is coming.

Uncle Dom sips from his wine glass before setting it back down. “I'll do this quick, like rippin’ a band aid, since you know I like ya, kid.” He says. His hand moves from the glass set down to fiddle with the head of the cane he's needed to start carrying the last two years or so as he's aged. “We're takin’ you off the salon.”

You blink. “I own the salon.” You answer lamely.

“Ya do.” Dom agrees. “But with everythin’ goin’ on right now, it's been decided that it's best if you ain't so…hands on.”

You sit stock still in your chair as you stare back at the older man. You're at a loss for words.

“You're to start actin’ like a…more silent partner from Monday on. Tony’ll take care of the day to day. You worry about your girls.”

You take a deep breath. “I own the salon.” you repeat, slowly leaning forward in your chair. Until your elbows rest against your knees. “And you're tellin’ me to act like Tony does?”

“For now. There's a lot of eyes, kid. It's better if you just stay home, worry about the twins.”

You bite your tongue, hard. You want to argue. You want to fight. Except you know better than to. It won't get you anywhere. This decision comes from higher than you and from more than one person, no doubt.

You push yourself up from the armchair. You don't bother saying anything else to Dom. “Oh, fuck off, Luca.” You mutter when he moves to open the door for you. You throw it open yourself as you storm past him.

You take your spot next to your wife again, as she watches your little girls play with her cousins, and she can immediately feel the tension radiating off of you.

“Mi amore?” She looks to you sharply, your nails just digging into her hip slightly as you take up your position again.

“We need to go, or I’m going to flip my God damn shit,” you whisper into her ear. “I don’t think you want me doing that in front of everybody.”

Melissa gathers the girls, and the four of you attempt an Irish goodbye- running out and leaving without anyone noticing. Somehow, someway, the only person that you run into is Dominic. You glare daggers at him and all but dare him to stop you. He raises his hands in surrender, and the four of you are in your car no sooner.

You absolutely blast the Disney songs through the speaker as you begin to curse in Irish at a rapid fire speed.

“Y/N,” Melissa squeezes your thigh as you drive. “What has you up in arms?”

“I’m going to fuckin’ kill ‘em,” you seethe.

The redhead rolls her eyes. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

“I’m going to,” you hiss. Then you switch to Italian, having run out of cuss words in your own tongue. And finally, you let out a, “Mother fucker!” as you slam your palm on the steering wheel.

Your wife’s brows raise as you continue to curse under your breath. She knows she’ll have to talk to you once she gets the kids to bed- because tonight you are clearly off of parental duties with the attitude you have now. You’re one minor inconvenience away from taking one of her baseball bats to someone’s car, and with the trouble you’re in right now you can’t afford it.

As you pull in, she sets a gentle hand on your upper thigh. “Let me take care of the girls tonight while you simmer on the couch,” she tells you. “Pour yourself a glass of wine, and try not to explode from your rage.”

You kill the engine and storm into the house, not even bothering to help your wife get the girls into the house.

“Mommy?” Rosie asks as you stomp into the house.

“Yes, my little love?” your wife asks as she climbs out of the car.

“Why didn’t Mam get me out?”

“Mam is a little frustrated,” the redhead tells your daughters. “She just needs some time to cool off.”

“Mam is more than a little frustrated,” Cat notes softly. “Mam is really mad.”

“Just let Mam be for now,” your wife tells your girls. “It’s time for the two of you to head to bed anyway.”

“But Mam is home, and I want her to read a bedtime story,” Rosie whines.

“Mommy can read a bedtime story,” Melissa tries to placate as she ushers the girls into the house and up towards their room.

“But Mam reads better!” Cat groans. “You don’t do the funny voices as good!”

Out in the kitchen, you can hear your girls moaning and groaning, and you sigh heavily. If you can’t have control of your business right now... Dom is right- you should focus on your girls. You do end up reading them a story, tucking them in with a few extra kisses for the night, and then you’re out in the kitchen downing at least two glasses worth of scotch.

“Honey,” Melissa wraps her arms around your waist as you throw the last of the liquor down the hatch, loving the way that it burns. “Slow down. You haven’t even told me what’s happening.”

“Dom and Tony are takin’ the business out from underneath me.”

“What?” Melissa asks, sounding as incredulous as you felt when you were first told. “They can't do that! You own it.”

You laugh as you pour yourself another glass. “The fuck they can't. You know as well as I do they can do whatever the hell they want.”

Melissa's hands reach from your waist to your own hands, still trying to get you to slow down. “Amore.”

You put both the glass and bottle down on the kitchen counter a bit harder than necessary. “I have done everything they asked.” You grit through your teeth. “From day one. Even when Bobby was still there. They trusted me more than him at the end of it. And this is what they pay me back with, huh? The hell do they think this is gonna solve? You think the Feds ain't gonna notice I'm all of a sudden not there?”

Melissa sighs at your shoulder, her hands rubbing along your arms to try and calm you. “You know they have some sorta story to feed them if it's asked about already, honey.” She says softly. She isn't trying to give more fuel to your fire, but it is true. You know it is. Nothing is done without being thoroughly thought through.

“Fuck.” You curse once more as you close your eyes. You let your weight lean back into your wife. Her arms wrapping around your waist again. “Is this what we chose?” You ask, your voice much quieter than it has been in the last hour aside from reading to your girls and kissing them goodnight. “We get taught and spout all this shit about family. You're family. You do it for the family. Nothin’ comes over the family. This don't feel like fuckin’ family.”

Melissa doesn't answer you. There isn't a clear cut one. It's a complicated life for even the average person. Add in the mix of mafia and mob and all that comes with them both and complicated is an understatement. Instead she keeps you close to her. One hand letting go of you in order to cap a bottle of scotch to carry as she guides you with the other back to your couch.

You curl in with her on the cushions. Trading the bottle back and forth. The silence of your home cuts only when your mind whirs back to life, and you're ranting your thoughts at her again. In turn, Melissa just pulls you closer to her each time, humming the confirmation of her listening.

Eventually, you end up laying down with Mel on your couch, tangled up together beneath the throw blanket. You raise your head, blinking at your wife for a few moments. You're definitely drunk. Even still, you think she's the most beautiful woman you've seen. “You're family, y’know? The kind everybody in this damn neighborhood wants to keep talkin’ ‘bout. That you do anything for. Nothin’ else above it, all that. It's you and the girls. That's it. The rest of ‘em can get fucked.”

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janeyseymour · 5 days

Text

Won't You Be... My Neighbor?- pt 6

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

Summary: Melissa is released from the hospital, meanwhile, JJ is located.

WC: ~1.65k

The little boy ends up falling asleep in the car, adrenaline leaving his body and pure exhaustion setting in. When he wakes up, he wakes up to nearly being thrown out of the seat of the car again. This time though, the seatbelt catches him, and while it burns like hell on his neck- because he shouldn’t be in the car without the seatbelt, he does not repel forward. He slams back into his seat with a loud yelp, and he hears a loud bang.

Joe just crashed the car. Joe just crashed the car into a tree on one of the back roads he was taking, and the airbags deployed- saving his life. With the fire-retardant that comes out of the airbag in a big cloud, they’re both coughing, gasping for breath. Neither of them are found by the time the sun comes up.

Almost as soon as day breaks, Melissa is awake, and hellbent on getting out of the hospital. She cannot lay here idly by while her four year old son is God knows where with her jackass of an ex-husband.

“I do not care!” she’s shouting at you. She winces is pain, but she doesn’t let the aching in her ribs put out her fire. “We have to find JJ!”

“What we have to do is get you to recount what happened last night, and then I need to find out how I’m supposed to take care of you while you recover,” you tell her as you lay a hand over hers.

“When are they going to get here?!” the redhead shouts.

“Hun, it’s…” you glance over at the clock. “6:45 in the morning. Give it time, and try to get another hour’s sleep, because once we get out, you won’t be getting the rest you need to anyway.”

She, in a fit of rage, slams her hand down on the call button on the remote attached to her bed. You close your eyes and take a deep breath at that action- so defiant. You wonder how she’s a second grade teacher sometimes, and this is a prime example.

The nurse comes in, and you just give her a sympathetic look as she’s yelled at in both English and Italian.

When the nurse leaves, somewhat terrified of what she just witnessed, Melissa just taps away on her phone before answering a call.

“Tommy, you better get your ass over here now to take my damned statement before I rip you a new one,” is what she hisses into the phone.

“Mel,” you grumble as you open one eye to look at her sleepily.

She just rolls her eyes and continues on her tirade in her second language. You don’t understand any of the words she’s saying, but you do know that she’s all but threatening this man’s life if he isn’t here in a flash.

And he is. Melissa gives her statement while the doctor comes in and explains to you her recovery plan.

“Three broken ribs is no joke, but there’s also unfortunately not a lot that we can do to help the healing process along,” he sighs as he rubs at the back of his neck. “For the first few days, icing it will help. As ridiculous as it sounds, we usually do recommend a frozen bag of peas because they’re easy to move and manipulate.”

You nod, taking notes on your phone.

“She shouldn’t sit or lay for extended periods of time, sleep sitting upright for the first few days- it’s best for her to keep moving when possible to help her breathe and clear the mucus from her lungs. If she has to cough, she should not suppress it. It will be painful for her, but we do suggest holding a pillow to her chest while she does to help absorb some of the blow. If we can prevent a chest infection, we should. And when her son is located, she should refrain from holding him as much as possible- straining herself is only going to make the recovery time that much longer.”

“How long is recovery time?”

“With the damage he did to her? I’d say four to six weeks, but that would only be if she’s taking care of herself. What does she do for work?”

“She’s a second grade teacher,” you sigh.

The doctor frowns, lines drawn into his forehead. “So I guess I should write her a doctor’s note to excuse her from work for the next few-”

“She’ll never agree to that,” you tell him. “She’s a single mother who is just doing her best to make it all work, and I can guarantee that she will want to leave her kids for that long.”

“If she’s constantly straining herself at work-”

“I can get attempt to get her to agree to teach from her chair,” you argue. “But that’s probably the best I can do.”

“I suppose that will have to do,” the doctor reluctantly agrees.

Meanwhile, JJ has woken up and is in the backseat crying, Joe passed out, who’s to say whether that be from the accident or the alcohol in his system, when a kinder gentleman who occupies the land takes note of the truck on his property. He slowly approaches it, but upon hearing the little boys wails, he picks up his pace, calling for his wife.

The woman runs up alongside of him, also speeding up when she hears the little boys loud cries. They glance into the car, and while the older man clocks the open bottle of vodka right away, the woman’s eyes go right to the little boy cowering in the backseat.

“Oh my god, Jerry,” JJ can hear. He all but curls into the backseat, terrified that whoever this is might take him even further from his momma. The door opens, and the little boy can feel a warm hand on his back- on that reminds him of his nonna’s. “Hi, sweet boy. You’re okay. You’re alright.”

JJ looks up, tears still pouring over his face, a thick trail of snot falling from his nose and into his mouth. “I want Momma!”

“Okay, honey,” the woman says softly. “We’ll get you to your momma. Can you tell me your name?” When he doesn’t respond, she says as gently as she can, “I’m Bev, this is my husband Jerry.”

“JJ,” is all the little boy offers up. She gives her husband a look and mouths, ‘9-1-1’. He trails a little further up the driveway to make the call.

“Is JJ your nickname?” Bev asks him. He nods. “What does it stand for?”

“Joe Jr.”

“And how old are you, sweetheart?”

“Four,” he whimpers out, but he holds up three fingers. The little one uncurls just slightly.

“Can I pick you up?” At JJ’s nod, she smiles softly and lifts him out of the seat. He cries out in pain at his shoulder. “Oh, sweetheart,” she whispers.

“Daddy pulled my arm,” JJ reveals softly. He lays his head on the woman’s shoulder, hoping to find some warmth and comfort- any warmth and comfort.

Jerry walks back up to the two. “They’ll be here as soon as they can.”

It’s a bit later that the police along with an ambulance show up and speak with the elderly couple and JJ. The older couple insists on riding to the nearest hospital with the little boy and his father.

Upon getting there, they ask the little boy basic questions.

“What’s your name?… How old are you?… Do you know these people that brought you here?… What happened?”

While all of this is happening, a few others work on Joe- and they find his license. Joseph Schemmenti… that name sounds-

“Is this the man that kidnapped his son after beating the living shit out of his ex-wife?” one of the cop’s eyes go wide.

“Oh my god,” another gasps softly.

“Melissa,” you say softly as you drive the two of you back to your apartment complex.

“I. Am. Fine,” she grits out as she holds an icepack- one from the hospital, to her body. “I don’t even care right now. I just need to find JJ.”

“And we will,” you promise her. “We will find him.”

The redhead in the passenger seat starts to crack as she looks over to you. “What if… what if it’s too late?”

You take a shaky breath at that before uttering the words, “It won’t be.” She can tell that you’re trying to convince yourself just as much as you’re attempting to convince her.

By the time that they’re able to locate where the little boy is with the elderly couple, JJ’s shoulder has been set into place, they’ve tended to the burns from the seat belt, and Melissa has been contacted.

“Tommy, you better have-”

“We found him and Joe in a small town out by Lancaster,” the officer gets out quickly. “They’re at Lancaster General Hospital.”

The redhead nearly jumps off the couch, and you have to catch her as she stumbles. “Y/N! they have JJ! In Lancaster! We have to-“ she wheezes for breath, gripping at her ribs. “We have to go!”

“That- that’s over an hour away,” you tell her. “You can’t possibly make that trip right now- not in your-”

“We’ll be there,” Melissa says quickly into the phone before hanging up. She’s grabbing her keys and slipping her shoes on before you can get another protest out.

“You are not driving,” you practically rip the keys out of her hand. “And you are not-”

“This is my son we are talking about!” the woman shouts at you. “I do not care!”

Knowing you aren’t going to win this fight, you grab a pillow and guide her out to the car slowly.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction

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janeyseymour · 7 days

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La Cosa Nostra- pt 7

Cowritten with @schemmentis

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.

Summary: It's a nice easy Saturday, and then you head to Church on Sunday- the Feds following you the entire time.

WC: 1.8k

Saturday rolls around, and your little ones are absolutely delighted to see both you and Melissa on your mother’s doorstep to pick them up.

“Mam! Mommy!” Cat shouts as she whips the door open. Rosie echoes her words as she all but launches herself at you.

“Hi, my little love,” you chuckle as you crouch down to be at eye level with her. “How was your night with Nan and Pop?”

“So good!” Rosie grins as you step further into the house. Melissa brings Cat to her own hip, delighted to be reunited with her girls once again.

“Pop let us have ice cream for dinner!” Cat giggles.

At that, you look at your father who is relaxing in his recliner. His eyes go wide, and they look everywhere but you.

“Dad,” you scold him.

“It was pistachio,” he shrugs. “That’s a fruit.”

“It’s a nut, and so are you,” you tell your father as you roll your eyes.

“Oi, Y/N,” your mother breathes from her place on the couch. “Let’s not forget the dozens of times your father let you and your siblings have ice cream for dinner.”

“That’s different! And you were always up in arms over it,” you say to your mother.

She shrugs. “You kids turned out okay, didn’t you? You own one of the most successful salons in the city, you have a beautiful wife, and absolutely precious twins. Besides, we’re grandparents now- we give the kids sugar and then send ‘em home with you.”

“What did you give them before we got here?” Melissa raises a brow.

Both of your parents just smirk.

“Cat, what did Nan and Pop give the two of you for breakfast?” the redhead asks slowly, cautiously.

“Cinnamon buns with ice cream!” Your oldest twin’s eyes sparkle with pure glee.

“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath. You switch to your native tongue to tell your parents what you really think of this situation they’ve put you in.

“Oh lighten up,” your mam tells you. “Just take ‘em to the park and have ‘em run around there for a few hours. That’s what dad always did.”

“Damn right,” your father chuckles from his place.

So after bidding adieu to your parents, you and your family end up at the local park. Cat and Rosie spend the afternoon running around in circles, having you chase them, begging you to push them on the swings, giggling with all of the glee and innocence that five year olds should have. When more kids start to make their way into the little fenced area, you and your wife take a step back and find a park bench to sit on. Neither of your eyes leave your girls, but it’s nice to have a break when you’re both already exhausted enough. Even with last night, where you were both in bed by ten and sleeping in until much later than either of you had expected, the turn of events that your life has taken has the both of you still pretty much running on fumes.

“We are so lucky to have those little munchkins,” you sigh softly as you let your head rest on Melissa’s shoulder.

“We really are,” your wife smiles as she watches Rosie tag Cat.

The two of them have brought so much joy into your life. Your eyes glaze over as you’re taken back to so many of the big events that have happened in this park. You recall the day that the two of you simply came down here on a walk and the warmth of the sun as you held hands and strolled through the park. Melissa told you that she loved you that day. You remember this exact bench was where you felt your babies kick for the first time and the absolutely beaming smile that could light up the entirety of center city that your wife gave you as she felt it too.

You’re taken back to the first time you brought your girls here at just a few months old- both you and your wife going stir crazy as you stayed inside and with the girls for the longest time. You brought your wife here the day that her restaurant opened, just to give her a sense of normalcy with all of the chaos that had taken place trying to get everything in order to open on time.

You’re only brought back to the present when Rosie comes climbing into your lap and Cat climbs into Melissa’s. You both instinctively press kisses to your girls’ heads and sigh in content.

“All tuckered out?” you chuckle as the younger of your twins exhales deeply and her fingers run through your hair. You feel her nod, and you see Cat nod into Melissa’s neck.

“Can we go home and watch a movie?” Your eldest asks your wife quietly.

The two of you share a look before nodding. “That sounds like a great idea, sweetheart.”

As you’re getting the girls into the car and driving home, you miss the way that Agent Danik and Agent Shaw are tracking your every move.

The sleek, black, undercover car blends in well. You don't notice it trailing a few cars behind you. You don't notice it idling at the end of the street as you and your wife get your girls out of their car seats and safely inside your home.

You spend the evening curled on your couch. The twins splaying their tiny bodies haphazardly across both you and your wife's laps and slipping in the scant spaces between you as they start drifting to sleep.

“Maybe we need to give them sugar more often.” You faux whisper to Melissa as you both leave the girls’ room after laying them down. “They didn't even ask for bedtime stories.”

“They get enough sugar between your parents and mine.” Melissa lightly hits your arm. “‘Sides, you'd miss bedtime stories after a while. You love doin’ the silly voices to make ‘em laugh.”

“Yeah,” You sigh. “You're right. I would.”

Normally, you and Melissa would return to your comfortable couch. At least for an hour or two to fully unwind before retiring for the night. Tonight, though, you both set wordlessly about your night time routine. You've caught up on sleep, for the most part. Still, there's a bit of extra exhaustion. Plus, tomorrow is Sunday, which means early morning to make Mass on time and breakfast with Barbara and Gerald afterward.

You happily settle into your bed once you're ready for the night. Curled beneath your sheets, you hold a book open with one hand while your other arm is wrapped securely around your wife. The television in the room, with the volume low, playing one of her shows.

You think Melissa has drifted to sleep already when you hear her voice. It's soft, and laced with her tiredness, but it’s clear. “It’ll pass, yeah? All this?”

You shut your book without worrying about your bookmark. Blindly, you set it to the nightstand. You lay down completely, wrapping both arms around your wife and kissing her cheek and shoulder.

“It will.” You answer with all the confidence you have. “It’ll pass and everything’ll go back to how it’s ‘spose to be.”

The two of you get as much rest as possible given the circumstances. But then there’s a little hand on your face, and this time it’s Rosie who is gently prying your eye open with one of her own hands. You groan as you pull her onto the bed. You can hear Cat giggling as she does the exact same thing to your wife.

Your little one only continues to try to force your eyes open until you peel them open just enough to look at the clock on your bedside table.

“Rosalina Marie,” you groan. “Caterina Ann. It is 6:45, and we do not have to be awake for another forty-five minutes. Quit it.”

“Let Mam sleep,” Melissa sighs as she rolls out of bed. “Come on, you little rascals.”

She corrals them out of the room, letting you get another forty minutes of sleep before she’s coming back in to gently shake you awake.

“Mi amore,” your wife says softly as she stands by your bedside. She brushes away a few hairs from your face and kisses your temple gently. “It’s time to get up and start getting ready for church.”

You blink awake, happy to see that beautiful woman’s eyes sparkling. You roll out of bed unceremoniously before heading into the kitchen to eat breakfast and start attempting to get the twins ready for church in time.

Rosie whines about the fact that Melissa has her in a dress while Cat spins around and giggles the entire time as she watches the skirt puff out.

“My love, it isn’t that bad,” you sigh as you pull on your own trousers. “Mommy just wants the two of you to look your best.”

“And you look wonderful,” Melissa tells Rosie as she slips on her own blouse.

“Why do you and Mam get to wear pants though?” your littler of the two grumbles.

“Because you only own leggings and jeans as a little girl, and Mam and I have slacks,” your wife explains.

By some miracle, the four of you end up in the sanctuary before the service starts. You slide into the pew where Barbara and Gerald Howard sit. The woman is immediately cooing over your two girls, and suddenly Rosie seems thrilled to be wearing the dress Melissa had put her in.

You hand the girls the silent fidget toys that you brought along in order to keep them quiet during the sermon.

“Do you want your book back?” Barbara asks quietly as the priest takes a few seconds to shift from a passage to the choir.

“No,” Melissa sighs. “Not yet. Just... hold onto it until I tell you I can get it back, and do not speak of it again. Please.”

Barbara raises a brow, but she doesn’t say anything further as she turns her attention back to the mass that is taking place.

After the service, you take Cat’s hand while Melissa takes Rosie’s, and the four of you head down to the diner that you frequent often after a service. Gerald and Barbara follow. Again, you fail to notice the way that Shaw and Danik follow your steps.

“Is that...?” Shaw asks.

“The senator, Gerald Howard,” Danik confirms quietly. “There’s no way that the senator has a hand in any of this.”

“No,” Shaw agrees softly. “And his wife is known for her activism in education and her devout Christianity.”

“Shit,” Danik mutters.

“Did we just hit a dead end?” Shaw asks.

The head of this investigation sighs. “I have no idea, Shaw. No fucking clue.”

TAGS: @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

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janeyseymour · 7 days

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genuinely who gave her the right to look this good

MISS LISA ANN WALTER??!@%&!!??+%$@!!!

#lisa ann walter

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janeyseymour · 7 days

Note

I AM OBSESSED WITH 'WON'T YOU BE... MY NEIGHBOR?' !!!!!!!!! Its soooooo good!!

😭😭😭🤍🤍🤍

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janeyseymour · 7 days

Text

HI YEAH HERE IS PART 6. ENJOY IT OR ELSE

La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 6

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

Summary: The Feds search Melissa's restaurant and question her. Meanwhile, you consider your options...

WC: 4k

When the girls are waking you a few hours later for breakfast; you're not much better. The extra hours of sleep have made you not a zombie but you can feel that your tank is near empty- that one more thing might just be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. You only hope it isn’t something the girls do that makes you boil over. It takes almost everything you have to get them fed, dressed, and actually to school. What keeps you going is the thought of your wife with agents tearing apart her beloved business and the tiny little hugs your twins give you when you say goodbye that are as tight as their little arms can make.

A few minutes drive takes you from the school to your wife’s restaurant. You still see Agent Shaw’s car in the parking lot as you pull in next to Sammy’s.

You see Melissa sat on the curb outside the entrance with a cigarette held between her forefingers as her elbow props on her knee. You should feel surprise. She stopped smoking when you started trying to get pregnant, both in solidarity with you and in an effort to improve her health for the kids you were hoping for. Now though, after the last few days, you're not surprised in the slightest. A stress cigarette has always been her one vice.

You exit the car, walking to the curb and sitting next to your wife. Wordlessly, she offers you the cigarette. You take it, taking a drag yourself before handing it back as you exhale the smoke.

“It's a goddamn mess,” Melissa finally says. “And they're still lookin’. For what, I don't know.”

You lean into your wife’s side, an arm wrapping around her shoulders and your hand gently shifting through the red locks you can reach. “We’ll fix it,” You murmur. You hope you’re telling her the truth.

Melissa hums around the next drag from the cigarette. You will. She knows you both will set it right when they finally decide they're done. It doesn't make it better though. This shouldn't even be happening, but it is.

You kiss her temple, inhaling the familiar scent of your wife’s perfume mixed with the cigarette smoke. It reminds you of when you first met. She had met you in a dark alley, and the first thing that you noticed about her was her striking green eyes- ones that knew exactly what they wanted. The second thing you noticed was the near intoxicating scent that you’ve only fallen further in love with as the years have gone by.

“I love you,” You whisper. You hate it, but it's the most you can offer her right now- the one thing you have that is unwavering and unchanging.

“Ti amo, mi amore,” Melissa whispers back as she takes another drag of the cigarette.

Her eyes flit up to yours, searching for any sort of comfort you can provide. Then they gaze over at the restaurant. She can see that everything is out of order. The chairs are strewn about at random, the booths have been moved and the agents have ripped up the painted walls in their haste to try to find something- anything. The front desk is a mess, menus everywhere and not in the designated holder. Decorations have been ripped off the wall and thrown carelessly, some ruined. And that’s only what she can see. Your wife doesn’t even want to know what they’ve done to the back- her beloved kitchen where everything has its right place.

“My god,” Melissa puts her head in her hands, and you have to quickly remove the still burning cigarette from her clutch to prevent her from catching herself on fire. “My restaurant...” and then she’s mumbling expletives in Italian. When she’s run out of curse words to be said in Italian, she switches to Irish. Then she switches to English.

“My love,” you sigh as you pull her impossibly closer- she’s nearly on your lap. “They aren’t going to find anything, because there is nothing to find.”

“I don’t even care about that,” Melissa whines into her hands. When she lifts her head, you see the tears in her eyes. “They trashed my restaurant, they’re going to take half of my shit, it’s not going to look the same, and I’m losing at least half a day’s worth of customers because of this! And then when people realize that we had to close for lunch because we were being searched, we’re only going to lose more business! I- I don’t even know what to do right now, Y/N.”

“We’ll put it all back together,” you promise her. “I’ll make some calls and have the family come down to help us put it back together, and we’ll get good business. We’ll make it all work, mo ghrá. I promise you, it will all be alright.”

“I just can’t believe this,” the redhead wipes at her tears harshly. She stuffs her hand into her jacket pocket, only to pull out another cigarette. She lights it and inhales deeply.

You pluck it from her hands. “Mel, smoking is not the solution right now. We can’t have you getting addicted again.”

“This is the one thing I can do,” your wife takes it back from you and takes another drag. “If you’re worried about the girls finding out, I’ll make sure I shower before I see them next.”

“What does that mean, love?”

“It means,” Melissa groans as she gestures in the general direction of where Danik and Shaw are now emerging from. “That if the way they’re walking over here is any indication, I’m about to be taken down to the station for a shit ton of questioning, and you’re going to be on mam duty today. Who knows what time I’ll be home.”

“They have no reason to take you in for questioning,” you try to tell her. “They found nothing.”

“They have every reason to take me in for questioning when we’re married,” she sighs as she stands.

“Melissa Schemmenti, we need you to come down to the station to help clear up a few things we found in your restaurant,” Danik states.

“Youse didn’t find nothin’,” Sammy rolls his eyes. “There is no need to question this poor, innocent family any further!”

Your wife sighs though as she stands from her place on the curb. “If youse want to interrogate me over nothin’, be my guest.”

“Honey,” you breathe out as you stand as well.

“Just get my restaurant back together before we have to open up for dinner, and please... tell the girls I’m sorry I couldn’t come pick them up today and that I love them,” Melissa tells you as she walks off with the officers.

You watch Mel slip into the back of the car. You don’t move as you watch the car pull off down the street once it turns out of the parking lot. You come back to yourself as Sammy’s hand lands on your shoulder.

“They got nothin’, kid.” He says, for what feels like the thousandth time.

You shake his hand from your shoulder, shooting him a glare. “Shouldn’t you be in your fancy ass car speeding to the station to protect my wife’s legal rights?” You say through your teeth, stepping past Sammy.

You don’t bother looking to see that he does get in his car and leave. You know he will. If not he’ll be having to answer to a lot worse than just you and your anger.

You step into the restaurant, sighing as you glance around. Melissa’s dream, torn to pieces without hesitation. Your hands curl into fists. You force them to uncurl and recurl, taking deep breaths in attempts to soothe yourself. You aren’t sure that it works- the only thing that would soothe you is if your wife was by your side and here to tell you that it’s all going to be okay despite her not knowing if that sentiment is true. This is what you didn’t want- Melissa and the things she loves upheaved, the things she dreamed and worked hard for. Sure, the salon and the front made it possible, but the success? That’s real. Melissa worked her ass off for this restaurant because she loved it and had a passion for it all. Now what was there to show for it? The place looked like it had been robbed blind and flipped.

You fish your phone from your pocket, dialing a number before placing it to your ear. You wish Mickey was out. You’d rather have called him. Instead, you’re cringing just a little when Mel’s cousin Vinny answers his phone. “Hey, you busy?” You ask instead of answering his question of how you’re doing.

You nod, silently willing him to hurry along as he chats around the simple yes or no question. “Can you grab Rocco and some of the other guys, bring ‘em down to Mel’s restaurant?”

This makes Vinny’s chatty nature stop suddenly. “Why? What’s goin’ on, Y/N?”

You sigh. Apparently news hadn’t reached this end of the family yet. The last thing you wanted to do was spread it further, make even more people jumpy over all this. You don’t have much choice though. “The Feds did a search warrant on the restaurant today. Mel’s at the station right now… I need some help putting it back together. They really did a number on it.”

You check your watch as Vinny agrees to gather who he can and be down as soon as possible to help. You still have a couple hours before the girls are out of school. Hopefully you can get things put together by then. You don’t want to have to ask your mother-in-law to pick them up again Though you know she’d hardly say no. Still, you’d like to minimize just how much she knows things are turning wrong if possible.

It breaks your heart more with each piece of the restaurant you pick up. Another little bit of your wife’s effort and care torn apart by the search. Still, you pick your way through what you can. By the time Vinny and some of the other men arrive you’re grateful there’s extra hands. It’s too much on your own, especially paired with your emotions. You’re half a second away from breaking something worse with the frustration you have building.

You help Vinny and the others until you have to pick up the girls. On the drive to the school, you make up your mind. You take them to your own mother’s house, the both of them excited to see their Nan. They don’t see your side quite as often as Melissa’s, with them living on the edge of the city. Still, today, the extra drive is worth it. It helps that you get to see your own mother too, reveling in her warm hug and kiss that’s planted to your own cheek as you drop the girls with her. You promise you’ll be back to pick them up by seven before you kiss each pair of chubby cheeks and hug them tight before you set back on the road again.

You briefly stop back at the restaurant. Your worry is a slight assuaged when you return to find Valentina helping direct putting things back together. It looks like they should be finished in time to open back up for dinner. You thank her yourself and make a mental note to tell Melissa she doesn’t pay her enough.

When you’re back in the car once more, you dial Sammy. Repeatedly. You know he’s still in the interrogation room with Mel. You dial until he finally calls you back before you can call him again. By then, you’re almost to the station yourself.

“Christ, Y/N, what is it? I’m tryna help your wife here and you’re blowin’ up my phone so much she’s lookin’ at me like she’s gonna kill me herself, nevermind the damn Feds.”

“I’m pulling into the station now, I need you to meet me outside.” You say and hang up before Sammy can say anything else.

In a matter of moments, he’s stepping out of the door and throwing his hands up at you in exasperation. “What the hell is goin’ on, huh?” He spits as you step to meet him on the sidewalk.

“You’re the lawyer, I need legal advice.” You say with a shrug.

“Now? Right now? When I’m tryna help your wife get home tonight, huh?” Sammy crosses his arms firmly across his chest.

“I’m tryna speed that process up myself, Sammy.” You retort. “What are the chances they keep Mel outta this? From here on, her and the restaurant?”

Sammy looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Basically nothin’, Y/N. They might not have found shit but they’re convinced, and they’re gunning. She’s as tied in as you are. You know that, though. So what’s the real question?”

“How long would I get if I copped to the money launderin’?” you ask seriously.

“What?” Sammy’s arms fall slack to his sides. Now, he looks at you like you’re absolutely insane. Maybe you are.

“I don’t got time for the ‘what are ya crazy, why would ya wanna do that’ talk, Sammy,” you roll your eyes. “Turn on the lawyer's brain, yeah? How long would I be lookin’ at?”

“The least you’d be looking at is ten years. The most…’round twenty. Plus whatever they wanted to fine for it…could be as much as doublin’ what they can prove you laundered. With you comin’ forward, we could probably get a plea, bring it down, but not by much.”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “If I did, though, it’d be over wouldn’t it? They’d be off everybody’s backs?”

“They’d still be lookin’ for who killed Bobby…but things- they’d be mostly back to normal. Mostly. You know your girl in there would tear me to shreds if I even considered lettin’ you do this, yeah?”

“They tore her restaurant apart, Sammy. They’re tearin’ our whole damn life apart, ‘cause of me,” you sigh.

“It ain’t just because of you,” he tells you. “Sure, you took the business from Bobby, but you an’ I both know you would never kill him. You’d never order a hit; you don’t got it in you. Hell, you couldn’t hurt a fly- I’ve seen the way you rescue those damned stink bugs when they get into your house.”

“I took the business from Bobby. I get why they think I had something to do with it and are confused with how the business is doin’ so well,” you sigh as you scratch the back of your head. “But I- At the end of the day, this falls back on me, and Melissa shouldn’t have to pay for it.”

“Yeah, so your big brained solution is to lock yourself up, huh? Away from ya wife, ya kids. You really think that’s gonna make her feel better? That she ain’t gonna pay for it if you’re put away for years.”

“I think she’d understand…eventually,” you shrug.

Sammy laughs, outright. “You sure you’re the one married to Melissa Schemmenti? ‘Cause the whole damn neighborhood knows what you just said ain’t true. You’d be sooner lookin’ at your own divorce papers.”

You shrug. “At least they’d be left alone.”

“You’re really willin’ to throw yourself into prison for all this? Think about everything you’re gonna be missin’ if you go to prison. Melissa will divorce you, you’ll miss your girls growing up- miss milestones that you won’t be able to get back.”

Your eyes go hazy for a few seconds as you see your life flash before your eyes- past, present, and future. You see your girls celebrating birthdays by themselves, or at the prison to visit you. You see them potentially graduating high school and Melissa potentially sending them off to college on her own if you get locked up for long enough. You see the way that the girls change once your presence is no longer there. You see things you don’t want to happen. You see them throwing their lives down the drain because you aren’t there to show them the love that they crave and need. They end up in the same shoes you’re in now. And you- you hesitate in your decision to throw yourself under the bus enough that you really are unsure of what is the right thing to do in this impossible scenario.

“I don’t know what else to do, Sammy,” you whisper, and you hate the way your voice cracks and your eyes well with tears. You hate that all of this is wearing you down to the point that you don’t see a way out and you’re about ready to break. You hate that you can’t run in there and cling to your wife like your life depends on it, the way you want to. You hate every single thing about this situation.

“The only thing that you can and should do right now is let me go in there and do my thing for Mel, because they really don’t have shit on her this time,” Sammy tells you sternly. “Go home, spend time with your girls, and I’ll handle everything with Melissa.”

“You fuckin’ better,” you warn. “My wife has nothing to do with this side of the business, and I ain’t lettin’ no one take away her dream. She’s worked too damn hard for this. And when you have her side of all of this squared away, you better get your ass ready to sue the fuckers for all of the damage they caused at the restaurant- place is fuckin’ torn to hell.”

You turn back to your car, climb in, and speed off. Sammy shakes his head- he hopes you don’t go over him and get yourself into more trouble before he walks back into the precinct to finish off this interrogation that Melissa is dealing with.

“My restaurant is not a front!” Melissa shouts for the seventh time. “I mean, really! There are so many other places that don’t bring in half of what I do, a quarter even! If Twelve Tables really was a front, do you think I would’ve put my whole fuckin’ life into it?!”

The agents just look at each other. They’ve found what really gets your wife to tick. Insult her restaurant, and she gets feisty. “That’s what you want us to think, isn’t it?”

“You just tore apart my wife’s salon, our home, searched our cars, and practically destroyed my God damned restaurant! You didn’t find fucking shit! Get off of our fuckin’ backs!” Melissa slams her fist- the one that still has bandages on it from the knife incident- on the table. It’s a decision that she immediately regrets as her hand starts to throb.

“If you don’t have any evidence on my client,” Sammy says quietly. “I think it’s time we head out. There’s nothing you have to legally hold her here.”

“Damn right,” Melissa huffs as she stands and straightens her shirt out. “Don’t fucking come back to my restaurant.” She grabs her purse and storms out of the station. The lawyer is hot on her heels.

“Melissa,” he shouts as he tries to catch up with her.

“What?! I need to get back to my wife and kids!” She dares him to stop her.

“I’m just trying to tell you that I’ll drive you home,” Sammy rolls his eyes as he falls into step with her. That gets a bit of your wife’s fire to die down, and she allows him to lead her to the shiny Mercedes in the parking lot

You call your mother, asking if she minds keeping the twins for the night. Of course, she doesn’t. It really is impossible to say no to those tiny faces. Especially if they’re clinging to her and singing a made up song about staying at Nan’s when she asks if they want to have a sleepover.

You miss them. Despite seeing them every day, it’s been awhile since you got quality time with your little family. Even before all this mess started, you were working extra and lucky if you got to read the twins a bedtime story or even just say goodnight. More often than not, you would have to settle for kissing their sleeping heads and whispering how you loved them, hoping their subconsciouses at least picked it up.

Your wife, you’ve seen a bit more of. Usually, she’s awake when you do get home. She isn’t able to sleep well when you’re not. Not with the life you’re both in. You might be on the safer side of it but it doesn’t mean danger isn’t always around the corner. All it takes is one mistake and you could be targeted how Bobby was. You both know that.

Even so, you still haven’t spent much time together. It all boiled down to recapping your days while both fighting sleep. If that. Maybe a night just the two of you is what you need in the midst of all this.

It won’t go away, you know that, but maybe a night with your wife will make it feel more like it’s possible to get through it all. Like fighting is worth it. As you walk back into your home; you don’t quite feel like it is. Not with the amount of pressure it’s putting on Melissa. You’ve seen it grow with each day, just as you’ve felt it grow on you. Except, the pressure you feel on you isn’t what bothers you. You’d gladly put up with it if it meant your wife and the rest of your family felt nothing at all.

You mindlessly set about making dinner. It isn’t often you can convince your wife to let you make it instead of her. At best, you usually can convince her to let you help. You hope they won’t keep her at the station, going around in circles, for much longer. You hope it will be warm when she gets home and does not need to be reheated. The less for your wife to worry about, the better.

You’re just finishing cooking when the front door slams. If it were a normal day, you’d be concerned about who is coming in and slamming the door. Except it hasn’t been a normal day for a few days. You know it’s your wife- the knowledge confirmed by the Italian you can hear muttered as she pulls her shoes off at the door.

By the time Melissa makes it to the kitchen doorway, you meet her there with a glass of wine held out in offering. She softens when she sees you and the wine. She takes the glass from you with a quiet thank you. The rest of what anger your wife is holding out dissipates as she realizes you made dinner when you set her plate in front of her just as she all but falls into a chair at the table.

“Where are the girls?” Melissa asks you softly as she takes a bite of the Irish dish you made tonight.

“With my mom,” you tell her quietly. “I figured the two of us could use the night, just me and you, and then tomorrow is a full day dedicated to them.”

“I can manage that,” your wife tells you with a soft smile- really the first smile you’ve seen out of her all day. “I have to stop by the restaurant to make sure that everything is in order for the Saturday rushes, but-”

“Everything should be in order,” you promise her. “I had Vin and some of the guys come down and help me put Twelve Tables back together as much as we could. Val was instructing them... we really don’t pay her enough.”

“I know,” the redhead sighs out. “But with the financial trouble we’re potentially in, I don’t have the room to give her a raise right now.”

“When we’re out of this mess then,” you tell her as you set a hand over her own, your thumb brushing across her knuckles.

The two of you spend Friday night cleaning the house over glasses of wine, content to put everything from the past couple days out of your head even if just for a few hours. It’s warm, it’s soft... it’s the easy domestic life that you wish the two of you had all the time.

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