#HOW TO GET YOUR WIFE BACK IN CAMDEN

[dyns33]

Family protection

I missed Alfie during Flufftober, I'm not going to lie, even if it was fun

Thomas Shelby was preoccupied.

No, if he was honest, Thomas was just as terrified and furious at that moment, hurt inside, ready to devastate everything in his path, like every time he was told that a member of his family had been targeted.

It had perhaps been a mistake on his part to believe that it was not necessary to monitor Y/N after her marriage. Solomons' men took care of that.

So, when John had called him in a panic, saying that there were rumors about the kidnapping, or even the murder of their sister, he had at first remained frozen at his desk.

Since Polly had brought her back, this little girl from another mother, also abandoned by their fucking so called father, he had loved her. Maybe even more than the others.

The child was adorable. Shy at first, then smiling, with a crystal-clear laugh, asking for cuddles from her brothers, playing with dolls with her sister, and always wanting to be with them.

Normally, boys didn't accept the presence of girls. Poor Ada knew something about that. But strangely, with Y/N, it was different. Neither he, nor John, nor Arthur, could refuse her anything.

She came with them in the streets, in the countryside, in the trees. There were some limits of course, but he had shown her how to climb, jump, run. How to defend herself, if one strange day they weren't there.

Thomas confided things to her and her only when they were alone. The times he slept in the fields, she came to join him. That was often what pushed him to come home, because he didn't want her to catch her death. She stayed there, glued to him without saying anything, respecting his silence like no other member of his family, and for that, he ended up talking to her.

It was a false secret, that Y/N was his favorite. A secret that didn't bother anyone, since she was everyone's favorite.

So Thomas Shelby was preoccupied, because it was said that something had happened to his little sister, without anyone being able to clearly say what.

"She was in a bookstore." Arthur mumbled. "She goes there several times a month, to get books and read to the kids. They like it, she has a beautiful voice. After the session, she often has tea upstairs with the old owner. Men came in, beat up the employees and customers, before going upstairs. Then there was a fire. We don't know anything else."

"And Mr. Solomons ?"

"Haven't managed to reach him. His little assistant says he's… busy."

You'd think the same guys had come to Camden Town to destroy the King's Bakery. Because everything was in a pathetic state, and it was the doing of one man, who shouted orders from his office when he wasn't breaking anything that came his way.

If Thomas was preoccupied, Alfie had lost his mind.

During an important meeting with the Irish, he had let Ollie handle the business, and since the men had to be watched, it was a new kid who answered the phone.

He learned only two hours after his return that a woman had called. Not just any woman, his wife. Who was worried, because there were men in front of the bookstore, whom she didn't know.

She was smart, his wife. His tender Y/N, well raised by the Shelbys. Even if she was normally safe, she remained wary, thinking of looking behind or through the window, knowing all of her husband's employees.

The incompetents who followed her that day had been found with their throats slit in an alley.

Even though his patient was at his limit, Thomas let Alfie finish his tantrum, noting that he had left only the phone and the record player intact, which was playing opera to try to calm him down.

Y/N had disappeared for four hours now. He wouldn't calm down.

"They would have called, huh ? To give their fucking instructions. Or maybe they're scared, they know that my men, the most competent this time, and yours, are all over town, and that as soon as we know who did this, they'll be dead. But… If they don't have her… Tommy, if they don't have her, if she's in that still smoking pile of ashes… I'll burn everything."

"Arthur and John are going to find her."

"Yeah, huh ? You can sense it with your gypsy powers ? Your witch aunt read the cards and saw that my Y/N was healthy ?"

"Not now, Alfie."

Solomons growled, turning his office chair in anger and slamming it against the floor until it was all crumbs. It was only because it was his wife's family that he was acceptinf Thomas' presence.

And for his part, even though he wanted to blow his head off for not protecting his sister properly, Tommy sat there smoking his cigarette, remembering how it had felt to hold Grace in his arms.

When the phone rang, he stared at it for a moment, before looking at Alfie, frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the wall. He wondered if he hadn't heard, before realizing that the wandering Jew was afraid to answer.

It might have been the famous ransom demand, which would teach them that a lot of harm had been done to Y/N, and much more would come if they didn't do what the kidnappers wanted.

It might also have been the coroner, who had finished putting names on the bodies following the fire.

Slowly, Thomas put down his cigarette, before answering.

"… Tommy ?"

"… Y/N ?"

"Give me that !" ordered Alfie who immediately came back to life, snatching the phone from him before finding a softer voice. "Treacle ? Love ? Are you okay ? Where are you ?"

It turned out that despite the lack of practice, taking young Y/N into the woods to teach her how to climb, jump, play tightrope walkers and hide, had been a good thing.

Realizing that something was happening and since her husband was not reachable, she had climbed through the upstairs window on the courtyard side, hoisting herself up onto the roof, until she found a secluded spot to climb down.

Then, not knowing who to trust, she had stayed hidden until nightfall, to go to the closest and safest place from her position, which was her sister's house.

"Faster, Ismael !"

Thomas could have muttered that it would be better to get to Ada's alive, but he only clung to the door handle while the driver obeyed Mr. Solomons without worrying about pedestrians or other cars.

It was also useless to stop Alfie from jumping onto the sidewalk, forgetting his cane in the car to go and bang on the door like a madman until someone opened it.

Calm only returned when he laid eyes on Y/N, settled in the living room and already surrounded by all the other Shelbys who had been called after them.

"Treacle. Forgive me." he sobbed as he threw himself at her knees, his arms around her and his head against her stomach. "I was so worried, love, I thought I was going to die."

"Oh, Alfie. I'm sorry, I wanted to call you before but I didn't have access to a phone."

"I'm the worst husband. I didn't protect you. If my men weren't dead, I'd slit their throats myself."

"Let's try to talk about something happier." Thomas coughed as he approached, placing a hand on his sister's shoulder who smiled at him. "Did you hurt yourself jumping off the roof ?"

"No, I'm fine. Just a little tired."

"Strange clothes."

"Yes, love. You weren't wearing that this morning."

"Oh, I…" Y/N said, visibly embarrassed. "I may have "borrowed" a disguise. And money. And a car."

"She's our lil sis !" Arthur declared proudly, oblivious to the dark looks from his aunt, sister, brothers, and brother-in-law.

Maybe they had also shown young Y/N how to steal, but only once or twice, for fun, telling her that it was wrong, and that she would never need to do that because they would take care of her.

Alfie mumbled in Hebrew, which made her laugh. Probably insults without malice. He only let go of her to allow the others to kiss her before he took her back to their home, returning worse than a leech at the first opportunity.

When he proposed to add some of his men to Solomons' for her next outings, the king of Candem was at first outraged. He didn't bark only because his wife had already experienced a lot of emotions, but he would not let Thomas humiliate him.

However, in the middle of the night, certainly when Y/N was sleeping, Solomons contacted him.

"How many men, and what price ?"

"I'm the one who feels insulted now, Alfie. She's my sister, that will be the necessary number and for nothing at all."

"Hmm… You know, they all have something to say about you, your siblings. All of them, while you take care of them. I know it, I see it, but they are never happy. But not Y/N. No, my treacle has nothing but compliments for her big brothers, and you the first. Tommy this, Tommy that. She adores you."

"I adore her too."

"Hmm. Not as much as me, and so there will be fewer men than mine, but… I accept the offer."

"Glad we almost agree on something, Mr. Solomons."

He did not sleep that night, because Thomas Shelby was a preoccupied man by nature. By business, by his family, by the future and the past.

But as for his favorite little sister, he could have slept peacefully, knowing that her husband was there to ensure her happiness and protection as he had sworn during their marriage.

And if something were to happen, they would join forces, then Thomas would probably kill Alfie to punish him, if the madman didn't kill himself first to join Y/N whom he loved at least as much as her brother loved her.

[theseinfernalangels]

The Home of My Home - Garrick Tavis

Synopsis: After finally finding a way to break from your outpost in Montserrat, you make it to Aretia — much worse for wear.

Includes: Garrick and Cosette lore, injuries galore, protective Garrick “My Wife” Tavis, second signet reference, emotional support besties, stuff that I haven’t written yet because I’m saving it for Garrick Week, might do a part two with Aaric? Takes place during Iron Flame.

“Just a bit further, Ríoga. Hold on!”

Seachran’s voice rings through your ears, but you barely register it through the roaring of pain that floods through the worm bandages around your side. Your thighs flex a little, but it’s only the thick bands of magic from the seat that keep you from tumbling mid-air.

You didn’t think you’d make it, honestly; the flight from Montserrat to Aretia is just over a day, and with the extent of your previous injuries, it’s only a matter of time before you drop into unconsciousness. 

Seachran, though, has other ideas.

“No,” he declares, hurdling towards the silhouette of the city faster. “You will not fade. I have alerted the riot, and your friends will be waiting for us. Keep your eyes on the light, and do not dare to look down.”

The light? Ah. He means the blazing afternoon sun that’s currently beginning to set to the west, painting the sky in an orange that matches your restless dragon. It does wonders for your focus, actually — any black spots in your vision are quickly burned by the white light that soothes your nerves.

You slide to the left with a pained hiss as Seachran begins his descent, his enormous wings folding into a dive. To anyone watching, they’d probably see him and assume he was just a dragon on a nice joyflight. However, you know better; your dragon only flies like this in the thick of battle. You could even picture that now, if you just closed your eyes—

“No!” He yells, shooting a spike of uncharacteristic panic down your bond. “Do not sleep!”

“Trying,” you whisper, slumping forward in your seat. You can make it. You have to. You haven’t spent the last few months keeping the largest secret in history just to die by blood loss. You have a family to get back to. A husband.

Gods, you have a husband.

The thought puts a lazy smile on your face as Seachran finally dips into a landing, the figures of other dragons finally coming into view. Good gods, there‘s a lot. How did they manage to rally this many riders from their posts? Unless…Unless they’re not from posts at all. A massive black shape catches your eye, making you stiffen.

“Is that…fucking Tairn?”

“It is,” your dragon confirms, slowing a little. “Many of our allies are here.”

You jolt a little as the dragon comes to a complete stop. Out of habit, you swing your leg over his back to slide, but you pause as your vision starts going spotty again. 

“Shit,” you mumble; at the same time, Seachran lowers himself close enough for you to stumble off his back. Your feet meet solid ground for the first time in over a day, but the mass does nothing for your balance.

Seachran lets out a worried little rumble right as you hear pounding footsteps.

“What the hell…?”

“Holy shit— Camden?”

Your vision clears for a moment as your eyes meet panicked, familiar brown ones.

You grin sluggishly, exposing your bloodstained teeth. “Durran. Sucks that we have to be united like this.”

You don’t even hear his reply, his words washed away into a sea of nothingness as you slump into his arms. Everything starts moving in flashes:

You facing the sky as you’re lifted off your feet.

The familiar flash of bright orange scales.

Seachran’s wide green eyes fluttering with worry.

Or— No. Those aren’t Seachran’s. That’s—

No. There’s no way. He’s back at home, safe in the palace.

…You think?

Oh. The light is nice and warm and welcoming. You frown as your vision goes spotty again, and then let out a tiny sigh of exhausted disappointment — or is it contentment? — when it all goes black, encasing you in a world of cold darkness.

⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊

Garrick thinks he’s hallucinating when he catches sight of a familiar orange dragon perched astray from the rest of the riot. For a moment, he assumes it’s just Glane — but Glane doesn’t have that golden shine down the back of her neck, nor does she have a Morningstartail.

That’s Seachran — which means you’re here. In Aretia. Back to him.

Chradh, bless his soul, catches on much quicker and jerks him out of his stupor.

“You are not walking from this seat,” he scolds. “How are you to see your mate if your head is broken in?”

Okay. Good point.

They make a quick landing by the front steps to Riorson House,  Garrick sliding off of Chradh at a speed impressive for even a distance wielder. Before he can make it to the entrance, though, he skids to a halt as Bodhi appears in front of him.

“Shit!” He stumbles a little. “Amari, Garrick. Calm the hell down before you bowl someone over, will you?”

Garrick side-steps him easily, shaking his head. “Excuse me for being made aware that my girl is here,” he scoffs. “I’ll do my best to tone it down for you. Do you know where she is?”

Bodhi blinks, as if remembering something important. “Garrick,” he says slowly. “Take a breather, yeah? She’s not going anywhere. You just got back.”

Instantly, that raises red flags in Garrick’s brain. His eyes narrow. “Don’t try to redirect the conversation. Where is she?”

The younger boy raises his hands innocently just as Imogen comes jogging behind him, obviously out of breath. 

“Tavis,” she huffs. “You’re fucking hard to track down. Riorson wants—“

“I don’t give a shit what he wants.” Garrick stares down at the both of them with that stern, cold look he usually saves for other lieutenants. He knows something is wrong; now that he thinks about it, Seachran did look absolutely exhausted from the edge of the riot. Basgiath was eighteen hours from Aretia, and you were coming from Montserrat…

Fuck.

Bodhi curls a hand over his shoulder, drawing him back an inch. “Look, Gare. She’s fine now. The healers put her under—“

“I didn’t ask if she was fine,” Garrick snarls, shoving the younger boy away. “Where the fuckis my wife, Durran?”

Imogen, thankfully, just rolls her eyes. “The infirmary, you stubborn ass,” she tells him. “Like he’s trying to say, she was brought in about an hour ago. She flew in with injuries. No one can see her right now, so you need to give it some time.”

Garrick grits his teeth, his hazel eyes turning stormy at the prospect of you laying alone and unconscious in a place you’ve never been before. Imogen’s face softens a little in understanding.

“Hey,” she says quietly. “She’ll be okay. Bodhi and Aaric brought her up, and Sawyer helped fill in all her information. She just needs time. She was pretty beat up.”

The older boy scrubs a tired hand over his face. “Do you know what happened to her?” He asks, his voice unusually small for someone of his stature. 

Bodhi shakes his head. “She was only half-conscious when Seachran landed, and bloody as can be. If I had to guess, her squadmates must’ve found out she was deserting and got to her before she could leave.”

A jolt of panic slams through Garrick, but not before Chradh’s easy timbre slides into his mind. 

“Seachran promises your mate will be okay,” he shares, sending a wave of warmth down their kaleidoscopic bond that instantly floods Garrick with a sense of relief. “She is weak, but lives.”

He takes in a shaky breath and counts to ten. Then, he shoots an apologetic look towards Bodhi, who just nods, his gaze falling to the floor. He has to get it, too. His girl isn’t here yet, either, but it’s more likely than not that she’ll be in a similar situation, especially since she’s marked, too.

His hands drop to his sides, slightly defeated. He can’t see you until the healers allow it, which won’t be for a while, at this rate. That’s not even considering the amount of things they have to be concerned about after you wake up — acquainting you with the province, finally explaining everything new in full for you, the whole deal with Aaric…Ugh. One wrong move, and things could get ugly, fast.

Imogen catches Bodhi’s gaze and shakes her head, turning to leave. The other boy just sighs and claps a hand on Garrick’s shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here, big guy. Selene almost got kicked from the Assembly because she insulted Xaden and called Violet a bare minimum, washed up cadet.”

Garrick groans. Wonderful.

⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊

You can’t see anything at first. 

It’s dark — incredibly dark, much to your chagrin. You swim in between streams of calls of your name, swirls of dizziness, and a need to just sleep.

But you can’t. Not now. You finally made it to Aretia, with the rest of the revolution. You’re a part of something bigger than yourself now. You have to at least open your eyes for it.

With great reluctance, you blink yourself awake. It’s night now…How long had you been unconscious? You flex one hand, huffing quietly at the soreness in your joints, before extending the fingers of your right hand.

That’s when you register the calloused hand lightly curled around your wrist. 

It’s a bit too dark to most to see normally, but luckily for you, you can feel just a bit of strength from your rest to pull from, igniting a small light by your ear. By your bedside, a broad shape curls over and rests their head on your legs, their curls tumbling into the sheets.

Garrick.

Without thinking, you try and sit up, immediately regretting it when pain blooms along your side and recoiling with a grunt. Almost instantly, Garrick’s head pops up from its place on the bed, his eyes wide with panic until they settle on you.

Watching. Searching. Longing.

“Lovely,” he breathes, sliding his fingers into yours and leaning up to press a long, sweet kiss to your mouth. You receive it with a hum, tilting your head back to deepen it as much as you can stand to. Garrick groans in response, and as if it pains him, he draws back a few steps to actually look at you.

“Gods,” he murmurs, his eyes trailing up and down your blanket-clad figure. “I was so worried. I— When they told me you were in here…”

You smile weakly. “It’s okay,” you try to reply, wincing at the dryness of your throat. “I’m better now. I’m a little beat up, of course, but nothing I can’t handle, right?”

A quiet, disbelieving laugh leaves him. “Smartass, unbelievable woman.”

He gently maneuvers you to sit up with an arm under your waist and fetches you some water, cooling the harsh burn in your throat. You sigh, relaxing in his hold and allowing him to fuss over you. Even if you didn’t want it to happen, you’re still too tired to complain, anyway.

“Scared the hell out of me,” he mumbles into the crown of your hair, his hands brushing gentle strokes on your shoulders. “No one would tell me where you were at first, and then Seachran looked wiped out, and then Bodhi and Imogen told me everything…”

Your hand comes up to cup the back of his neck, swiping up and down the bone. “Sorry,” you say faintly. “I got found out right as I was leaving. Got stabbed a few times. I’m surprised I didn’t bleed out completely.”

He lets out a shaky exhale and then drops to his knees, pulling your hand to him and pressing gentle kisses across your rough palm. “No apologies,” he orders. “More than anything, I’m just glad you’re here now.”

It’s been…What, three months since you’ve seen him? Since he fought for a weekend off and came to visit you, to make sure you were alive, to slide a small citrine-clad ring down your finger in exchange for a promise to return to him? Well, you kept your promise — even if it almost took out your vital organs.

You glance down. Sure enough, the little gem glows like honey in the faint light. Another light grabs at your attention — a matching ring with a smaller gem that sits on Garrick’s finger, inlaid in a black band. Despite the delicacy of the situation, you smile.

“I love you,” you confess softly, shifting against the pillows. “Even if it almost killed me, I’d rather be with you than fighting for cowards.”

Garrick rests his chin on your thigh. “I love you, too. I can hardly believe you’re here, though. Home. Well, home to me, at least. I hope it can grow to be yours too, though.”

You close your eyes and allow yourself to sink back into the mattress a little. Garrick studies you, his gaze narrowing into that cute little observing look that creases his eyes. “Tired?”

You hum in agreement. “We have a lot to talk about, though.”

“We can,” he replies. “But you should sleep first. I know it’s a lot.”

You stroke a hand through his hair. “You need to explain it all again, more thoroughly.”

“I will.”

“And I need to see the kids.”

“They’re fine. Sorrengail’s pretty beat up, but that’s nothing new.”

“Garrick?”

He pauses, leaning into your touch. “Hm?”

You quiet a little, your brow furrowing as you try to remember those weak flashes from before you passed out in Bodhi’s arms.

“I need you to be completely honest with me.”

His gaze meets yours. “Always.”

“Was…” Your voice trails off. “Did I really see my brother here earlier? Cam?”

Garrick inhales sharply before he sighs, his eyes leaving yours. “…Yes,” he says after a moment. “Although I didn’t know it was him until Xaden told me.”

The thought makes you a little sick. Cam. Your sweet, loyal, rebellious little Cam is a rider now. It would be hypocritical to freak out, seeing as your situation is similar, but having already lost one brother to the quadrant, you weren’t exactly thrilled — although Alic’s death didn’t bother you much anymore. 

Maybe he’s meant for it, though. He wouldn’t be king unless Halden was killed, and even then, he’d probably try to pass it on to you first before he could even consider the thought. That wasn’t right, though — of the two of you, he’d suit the royal role better, as much as it would pain him.

Did he know how Alic died? Did he know that you know and aren’t bothered in the slightest?

“Is he avoiding me?” You ask carefully, noting that he’s not even in proximity to the infirmary.

Garrick brushes his lips against your thigh. “I’m not sure. You know him better than I do.”

You frown. “I think I’d like to talk to him.”

“We can arrange that.”

“Not now, though,” you interject. “I don’t want him to see me like this. I probably already scared the shit out of him.”

He chuckles. “That you did, lovely. That you did.”

His fingers intertwine with yours again as he stands. “Rest. I won’t leave until they kick me out.”

You squeeze his hand. “Promise?”

His lips find yours easily. “Always,” he whispers against your mouth. “Always, and forever.”

Taglist: @wonderstruckbyyou, @jessicalee22likestowrite, @freezerbride18, @ineednewdaggers

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[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Hi Mo! I hope you are doing well! I really love your writing and the way you capture the duality of Alfie's character. I saw that you were looking for ideas so I thought I'd send one in (please feel no obligation/pressure to write it, this is just spit balling). Maybe something with reader being protective over Alfie. Maybe they're unaware of the infamous title the Camden King holds or they are but they have an overwhelming sense to have to protect him when the two are placed into a dangerous situation. Thanks so much, and again no pressure to have to write this ♥️!

Hi my friend!! You are so sweet, I hope you’re doing well too!! Thank you so much for this prompt! I gotta be honest, for some reason I had a hard time trying to figure out how I wanted to write this! I hope you enjoy it though, and if it isn’t hitting the way you were hoping, message me and maybe we can come up with something together!! Sending my love!!! - Mo

Change of Plans

Alfie Solomons x Wife!Reader

Warnings: fighting, blood, stitches

This was NOT how the night was supposed to go.

Alfie was going to have a late night at the office, finishing up some business with the Shelby boys. Fine enough, you could make his home coming sweet. A fresh chocolate babka would be fresh out the oven, ready for him to cut into and devour. Candles would be lit all over the house, with curtains drawn in to protect from peering eyes and the creeping in cold. And you. You were dressed so pretty, just waiting for him. Hair loose and free, just how he loves it. You had put on that soft pink dressing gown he likes so much. The silk one with the delicate lace at the ends. You even put lavender oil on, extra, just to entice him.

It was SUPPOSED to be a nice surprise. It was SUPPOSED to be an evening where you spoiled him. It was SUPPOSED to be a romantic evening.

But no… here you are. Sitting next to Ollie in the car. Being driven across town to a bar. A bar, where your husband, along with the idiots Tommy, Arthur, and John Shelby, were fighting. Being that Ollie was concerned enough to grab you from home, you could only imagine how bloody it was.

Ollie looked over at you, eyeing the hem of your dressing gown, nervous as to how the pink fabric would be received, “Uhm.. Ma’am, I have a coat in the back… don’t you think maybe-“

“No Ollie I don’t think I want it. If Alfie wants to pull me out of my house this late at night, he can deal with the consequences.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea-“

“Ollie you know I love you so very much but I will need you to not speak again until we get to the bar. Yes?”

Ollie nodded, but the stress never left his eyes. You know he meant well. He was only ever looking out for you and Alfie. He was very very sweet. But frankly, Alfie did not deserve to have Ollie looking out for him. He did not deserve common courtesy tonight.

You slam open the doors, and it was exactly as you assumed it was. Regular patrons of the bar were lined up at the edge of the walls, watching the gladiators in the center tear each other apart. There was blood all over the floor. Broken glasses and spilled liquor scattering the floor mixing with the red. Tables and chairs discarded and destroyed in the wake of the brawl. You assumed, that the fight started as Alfie against the brothers. But it looked from your stance now, that it was every man for himself. All four of the men were sporting black eyes, bruises and cuts all over their faces, necks, and hands. You heard Alfie’s laugh above the sounds, “C’mon now!!! You want some more?!”

He didn’t see you yet, but you could see him. He looked like absolute shit, and his mouth was bleeding despite the toothy grin he gave with every punch he gave and received. You rolled your eyes, and felt your rage rise. He was getting far too old for this shit, reveling in his strength and the destruction he could so easily cause. The honor he wanted to protect with the force of 50 men. In normal circumstances you find it honorable. Sometimes even charming. But the way it was going… someone was going to get killed. And if anyone was going to kill Alfie it was going to be you.

You motioned for Ollie to follow you, as you stomped over the bottles, blood, and water. The yells for more blood by the men at the edges slowly turned to whistles as they gave witness to your bare legs, the thin dressing gown, and your steaming rage barreling through. With strength mustered from God himself, you grabbed the collar of John and yanked him back quickly, tossing him onto his back, “What the! Oh, Mrs. Solomons…”

Ollie managed to rip Arthur off of Alfie’s back, and he too looked incredulous at your appearance at this disgusting scene. All that was left was Alfie and Tommy, still attempting to rip each others throat out, entirely oblivious to your presence.

“ENOUGH. STOP IT.”

You screamed, but to no avail. They were entirely focused on one another, on their mutual blood lust. Seeing no other option, you motioned for Ollie’s gun, snatching it from his hand, and shot three rounds into the ceiling.

They finally stopped, looking up to find you as the source of the noise. Where they initially looked like big men, they suddenly reminded you of naughty children.

“Alfred Solomons. Thomas Shelby. Just what in gods name do you think you’re doing.”

Silence. Utter silence. “WELL?! I’m waiting Mr. Solomons!”

Tommy tried to get up, but paused when you pointed the gun at him, “Do not make another move Mr. Shelby. Not only did you ruin a night with my husband, but you also nearly killed him. I have half a mind to shoot you dead right now.”

Not moving from your initial target, you address Alfie, “Have you finally found yourself speechless? Say something.”

With a swollen eye and bloody lip, he manages to smile sheepishly, “Just… just business love. Just… a bit of a quarrel darling nothing more… put the gun down my love, you look beautiful. A right vision darling. ”

“I will decide when I put the gun down Mr. Solomons.”

You begin pointing the gun at each of the four men, “I think we can all agree… that we are ALL a little too old to behaving this way yes?”

Tommy was watching you intently, as was Alfie. John and Arthur hung their heads. Embarrassed for both their behavior and their deep seeded fear of you. You motioned for Alfie to get up, “My husband and I are going to leave now. Mr. Shelby, I expect a handwritten note apologizing for ruining my evening. And Monday you all will convene together, to discuss the issue like fucking adults!”

Alfie winced as he got up, cane nowhere to be found. You walked back out into the cold, with Alfie close to your heels. You push him into the car before you, and slam the door shut, telling Ollie to take you home.

You can’t even look at Alfie. So overcome with irritation and worry. Irritated that he acted so recklessly, and worried about his injuries. As you always are. Alfie fiddled with the coat on the seat, “Coat is back here and you still decided to come out in your dressing gown eh?”

“Be quiet I do not want to hear you.”

“Oh you will hear me though won’t you yeah? You will hear me, because now, all of fucking London saw my wife’s bare legs! I mean what the fuck is wrong with you.”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?! You want to know what’s wrong with me Alfie Solomons? I wait all day for my husband to come home. No no not just wait. I SLAVE around the house all day, make myself look nice, hoping HOPING that my husband makes it home! I worry sick ALL DAY that maybe this will be the day my husband doesn’t come home. And instead of coming home, he goes and acts like a COMPLETE FUCKING MORON and starts a fist fight with the Shelby boys!! You are getting too old for this kind of reckless behavior Alfie! And I cannot let you keep destroying your body like this!”

You begin to feel the hot tears fall down your cheeks, and Alfie’s heart starts to crack, “Aw.. darling I- treacle don’t go worrying about old Alfie now. Your husband is like an ox yeah?”

Your tears keep flowing, harder now, “No Alfie! No i do worry! It’s not about you being strong!! It’s about you being healthy! About you being safe! I’ve never told you to stop the business! I’ve never asked you to leave it! All I’ve ever asked is that you show wisdom! Not to go around picking fights! I can’t see you like this Alfie! You don’t deserve to get cut up and beaten for nothing! For a pissing contest! I shouldn’t have to see my husband like this just because of some… some pride!”

Alfie just placed his bloodied hand on your knee, patting and stroking your thigh trying to comfort you. Once Ollie got you and Alfie home, you silently walked up, freezing and covered in the smell of booze and violence. “Get to the bathroom Alfie. I’ll be there in a minute to clean you up.”

You changed out of your soft pink nightie, and slipped on of Alfie’s night shirts over your body, breathing in the smell of his left over cologne. With a sigh you lugged the medicine kit into the bathroom, where Alfie sat at the edge of the tub, shirt off, hot water running and steaming the room. Silently, you began cleaning the wounds on his hands and chest. Once the tub was sufficiently filled, you nodded for him to get in.

With a grunt he lowers himself in. It was getting harder to get into the tub. His muscles tighter than they used to be. You begin your work, stitching up the deeper cuts on his chest and face. It was like nothing to you now.

The first time you stitched him up, he had to talk you through it, giving you more comfort than you could him. It was a rough first try, the scar is still pure white between his shoulder blades, and you can feel it under your fingers at night. But now, you know your way around the needle and his skin, it’s a familiar ritual to you now, though you wish it wasn’t.

“You look as beautiful as you did on our wedding day.” Alfie says suddenly, eyes glossy, and forehead sweaty.

You shake your head at him. Of course he’s trying to flirt with you while you’re stitching him up, “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re delirious.”

“Nah. I married an angel darling. You make those shirts look like them French magazines.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Damn him, he knows how to sweeten you up. You finally finish up the stitches, 10 different gashes in total, and you begin putting on the salve and bandages when he finally speaks again, “My sweet heart, you should not have gone down there. It would’ve been ok. You don’t need to be involved in all that.”

God he’s irritating. Throwing your hands in your lap you bite back, “Alfie don’t give me that. One of us has to have some sense! One of us has to care about you.”

“You are making a bigger deal out of this than it is. Or are you forgetting what it is that I do! I ain’t a soft man treacle.”

“Do not even try to spin it Alfred Solomons. I will not be made to be looked at like a hysterical and stupid house wife. You will not make me feel crazy Alfred Solomons. I am your wife and you will listen to me.”

A beat of silence. And two blinks from Alfie are your queue to keep speaking, “Never. Never have I ever told you to stop. I told you that I would always support you. That your people are my people. You want to continue the business. Absolutely. You want to drop it all and go to Margate. Beautiful. I will always be here for the aftermath. I will always be there to discuss. I will always be there to stitch you up. But this Alfie… this type of… reckless nonsense… you got slashed in the chest Alfie! I will not be made a widow Alfred Solomons. Especially in the wake of something which was preventable. I refuse to watch my husband kill himself for a fucking pissing contest.”

He stared at the water in the tub, losing its steam and washing away the grime from his day. In this moment he wasn’t the King of Camden. That mask left the moment he walked through the threshold. Right now he was Alfie Solomons. Your husband. The man who was to love and protect you.

“Alfie… don’t you see how much I love you? How much I want you to be safe? I hate seeing you in pain, it makes me sick. I don’t know what I would do if you were suddenly not here. I think… the sky would turn black. I would not be able to breathe.”

Alfie hummed, and began to rise out of the tub, “C’mon… let’s get to bed yeah?”

With a sigh you nodded, helping him out, and cleaning up your tools before leaving him to dress for bed. Already bundled in between the soft white sheets, you look above your book to watch him limp into bed, and your heart breaks. He grunts as he gets in, but then pulls at your shirt to bring you closer, “C’mere darling. Need you.”

You toss your book to the floor, huddling closer, letting him guide your head to his bare chest. He hums put a tune from his childhood, stroking your hair as he thinks. After a bit he whispers, “Do you know what would happen if you weren’t next to me anymore?”

“Hmm?”

“The world would stop spinning. Lose all its color. Food ‘d lose its taste. Music would be horrible. I’d stop breathing. There’d be no reason to breathe. No reason at all.”

You begin to feel tears fall again, but he kept continuing, “I love you my darling. You add meaning to all this… I’m sorry I made you feel… as if you didn’t matter. As if your feelings didn’t matter. They do treacle. Your husband is stubborn, and it ain’t right. Ain’t right to make my wife cry and worry. You’re the best a man like me could ever ask for. You put up with so much… I promise not to be such an ass yeah? Start using my head before I start up some nonsense. Deal?”

You nod, clutching his chest, kissing him wherever you could reach, as Alfie hums again, kissing the top of your head. “Now Treacle. Tell me all about these plans you had for tonight.”

[jtargaryen18]

The Arrangement ~ Chapter 10 Preview

Coming by Friday...

Tommy arrived late to the shop that morning, not by hours, but late enough to turn heads. His tie was slightly loosened, a rare thing for him. He couldn't get the sight of his beautiful fiancee out of his head. He wasn't sure how he'd even dragged himself out of his own bedroom with her still in bed, wearing only his shirt and her brand new ring. With her smiling at him like that... He'd really wanted to strip everything off her but the ring, and spend a couple of hours making her sing for him, beg for him. 

But there were things to be done now. There was security to plan, names to cross off lists. A wedding to finalize that would silence every voice in Birmingham daring to question who she was to him.

Still, as he pushed open the door to the betting shop and stepped inside, a ghost of a smile stayed with him. 

Arthur spotted him first. “Well, would you look at that,” he muttered, elbowing John. “He’s grinning. Poor bastard’s in love.”

John leaned back in his chair, boots on the table, hands behind his head. “So? Did she say yes?"

Tommy crossed the room like a man with a hundred fires to put out, but for once, he didn’t seem burned by it. He dropped a file onto the table with a quiet thud, glanced up, and smirked. “She said yes.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Arthur said with a grin, clapping a hand on his brother's shoulder. “We’re all done for.”

Even Rory cracked a smile from where he stood near the window, arms folded.

The jokes settled after a moment, replaced by the sound of pages turning and footsteps echoing down the hall. But Tommy didn’t sit. Instead, he glanced toward Rory.

“I need a word,” he said. Not unkindly.

Rory stepped forward without hesitation, and Tommy met him halfway. 

“I know your father’s gone,” Tommy said. “And I’d like to ask you to stand in for him.”

Rory’s brow furrowed.

“At the wedding,” Tommy clarified. “To give her away.”

Silence. Arthur went still, and even John lowered his boot from the table. Rory looked like the breath had left his lungs.

“I...” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “You want me to...”

Tommy nodded. “If you’re willin’.”

Rory swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’d be honored, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy clapped a hand on his shoulder, firm and brief. “Good.” His grip lingered a second longer as his gaze met Rory’s. “And it’s Tommy,” he said quietly. “You’re family now. One of us.”

Rory stood a little straighter, as if the weight of the words hit him somewhere deeper than he expected.

Arthur gave a rough nod. “’Bout bloody time someone around here had some sense.”

John grinned, nodding his approval. Laughter loosened the tension in the room for a moment, but the meaning stayed. Rory wasn’t just marrying into this life through his sister. He was part of it. And from where Tommy was standing, Rory had bloody earned his place.

Flipping open the map of Birmingham laid out on the table, Tommy steered the conversation back towards business. “Now, security. I want every man on alert. We’ve got a week, and no surprises.” He jabbed a finger at the church, then the mansion, then a few key streets surrounding both. “Stationed here, here, and here. Anyone breathing the wrong way near the wedding party gets stopped. Ask questions later. I want eyes on rooftops. Intersections. Train platforms.”

Arthur leaned in. “You want snipers?”

“Don’t want ‘em,” Tommy said. “Already called two. Lee boys. Trusted.” He looked up. “They’ll be on rooftops."

John gave a low whistle. “All this for a wedding.”

Tommy looked him dead in the eye. “Not just a wedding. It’s a message to every family from here to Camden Town. I want everyone to know who my wife is, that she's mine to protect. That means something.”

Rory nodded his understanding.

That was when John shifted, clearing his throat. “On the topic of family… Lizzie’s still seeing Angel Changretta.”

Tommy’s brow lifted slowly. “Still?”

“Spotted ‘em two nights ago, walking by the canal like they didn’t have a care in the fuckin’ world.”

Arthur scoffed. “Christ, she knows better.”

“She should,” John muttered, sharper now. “Should’ve known better than to get tangled with Italians. Especially that Italian.”

Tommy sat back slightly, eyes narrowing. “It’s a distraction. And worse, it’s sloppy. She knows who the Changrettas are.”

“She doesn’t care,” John bit out, then caught himself. “Or maybe she does. She’s always liked trouble.”

Arthur smirked. “Or maybe it’s you that cares, eh?”

John glared at Arthur. “Shut up.”

Tommy raised a hand. “That’s enough. I’ll speak with Lizzie. She’ll end it.”

Rory hadn’t said a word, but he was watching them all with that quiet, calm read-the-room silence of someone new to the politics, but no less aware of the tension.

John huffed and sat back. “I’m just sayin’… if he keeps sniffin’ around, someone’s gonna have to put the bastard in his place.”

Tommy gave him a cold look. “Not until I say.”

John didn’t argue, but the heat in his eyes hadn’t cooled.

Tommy closed the map with a snap and leaned forward, voice low and final. “No fuck-ups this week. None. After the wedding, we can deal with any loose ends.”

Tommy’s fingers tapped against the edge of the table as the others started murmuring about routes and patrols. But his mind wasn’t on the map anymore. It was on John. On that twitch in his jaw, the low simmer in his eyes. John was going to be a problem. Not because he meant to be. But because when John got that way, jealous and wound too tight, he didn’t always wait for orders. No, he'd look for somewhere to bleed out that frustration.

Tommy's gaze landed on Rory across the table, still silent. But his eyes had shifted too, narrowed slightly, tracking John the same way Tommy was. Good. At least someone else saw the storm coming. And if it came to it, he might need Rory to help hold the line.

As the meeting wrapped, Tommy straightened, brushing a hand over the lapel of his coat. “I’ll be in London for a couple of nights for the expansion if you'll remember. I leave in the morning.” His voice was cool, but the weight behind it was unmistakable. “Until I’m back, I expect the house guarded. Eyes on her at all times. No risks.”

Arthur nodded immediately. “You don’t have to worry, Tom. We’ve got it covered.”

Rory nodded.

Tommy gave a short nod of approval, but his gaze lingered for a beat on John, who hadn’t said a word. John was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, jaw tight. Distracted. His foot bounced restlessly beneath the table.

Tommy’s eyes narrowed slightly. “That clear, John?”

John snapped his head up, forcing a smirk. “Crystal.”

But Tommy didn’t buy it. Not for a second. He turned for the door without another word, but the thought stayed with him, pressing sharp against the back of his mind. Something was coming. And his brother John was going to light the bloody match.

[renjunniex]

Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem! Reader Series

Raving

Omega Part 1 | Omega Part 2 | Shape Shifted | Ice Pick | Abomination | Venomous | Frenemy | Restraint | Party Guessed | Fury

Prompt: Joining forces with Derek was difficult to say the least. Not only because he wanted to do things differently but it also meant you had to spend more time with Isaac.

a/n: heyyyy everybody! another chapter is here! super grateful for all the love you guys have been giving me seriously, thank you guys so much! ALSO YALL I DIDNT REALIZE I WAS SPELLING MR. HARRIS AS MR. HARRISON UNTIL JUST NOW. WHY DIDNT YALL TELL ME!?!? i went back and changed them so we should be good now lol

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"Oh, what the hell is this?"

You and Stiles were sitting at the station with food for Sheriff, who was very unhappy with what he had been given. "Veggie burger," sang Stiles as he rearranged the contents around the table. He handed you yours before setting his salad in front of him.

"Stiles, I asked for a hamburger," complained Sheriff his mouth still full.

"Well, veggie is healthier. We're being healthy," Stiles argued. You nodded along as you rustled your fork through your own salad to mix the contents around equally. Sheriff sighed but went back to unpacking his food, when he uncovered the basket of carrots and celery his face took on the look of disappointment once more, "Oh, hell, why are you trying to ruin my life?"

You gave the older man a pointed look, "That's very dramatic, don't you think? We just do this because we care." You weren't lying, Melissa may have been the one that took you in permanently but the Sheriff had always been like a father to you just as Melissa had been like a mother.

"I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please? And tell us what you found."

Sheriff disagreed, "No! I'm not sharing confidential police work with teenagers." That didn't stop you two from looking behind the man and at the wall. You pointed to it as Stiles called attention to the board, "Is that it on the board behind you?" He turned to look at it, "Don't look at that." Stiles continued to not listen, his eyes glued onto the wall.

"Avert your eyes. Hey!"

"I see arrows pointing at pictures," Stiles said move about in his chair.

He finally gave up when he realized that you two were not going to listen. "Okay, okay, stop! Fine. I found something." Both you and Stiles brought your attentions to him, instantly satisfied with his words.

"Mechanic and the couple who were murdered. They all had something in common."

"All three," you and Stiles asked.

"Yeah. You know what I always say. One's an incident. Two's coincidence-."

"Three's a pattern," Stiles finished for his father.

"The mechanic, the husband, and the wife- all the same age. All twenty-four."

Your eyebrows scrunched together, "Then what about Mr. Lahey?" Stiles looked over at you and agreed, "Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near twenty-four."

Sheriff had stuck his finger out, stopping your questions, "Which made me think either 'A,' Lahey's murder wasn't connected or 'B,' the ages were a coincidence, until I found this," he rolled his chair backwards a little and turned. Grabbing the file and handing it you, you opened it so both of you could expect the contents.

"Which would be 'C.' Did you know that Isaac Lahey has an older brother named Camden?" Even though the question was in general, meant for both of you, Sheriff did make the most eye contact with you. You shook your head, going back to reading the words.

"'Died in combat,'" whispered Stiles.

"But if he were alive today, take one guess as to how old he'd be."

"Twenty-four," you said.

Eating was apparently going to have to wait, since both men stood up and began to go over the board. "Man, I really just wanted to eat," you whined begrudgingly getting out of your chair. Your complainants were completely ignored as they started to plot.

"Now what if same age means same class- I mean did you think of that?" Sheriff brushed off his son's question with a slight wave, "Yeah, yeah." There was a brief moment of dead air until Sheriff confessed he hadn't thought of it.

"Well I would've. I mean- look I just got Lahey's file two hours ago." Even though the statement made sense to you, Stiles didn't accept that.

"TWO HOURS? Dad, people could be dying!"

"Yeah, I'm aware of that, thank you."

You placed a hand on Stiles' shoulders to make your presence known, "He can only keep looking at this stuff for so long, Stiles. Sometimes you need to step back to refresh your eyes."

Both guys settled down at your words, before turning towards the photos, "Same class," murmured Stiles. You all shared a look, "Do you have any old yearbooks, Sheriff," you asked.

Like on cue, they scrambled to get any old yearbooks and school files they could get their hands on. To be honest, your glad they didn't need your help on that because truth be told, you really were hungry. You only got a moment to stuff your face with food because they came rushing back soon after slamming all contents on the desk.

Stiles had found the file he was looking for, "Okay this is it, class of 2006. They all went to Beacon Hills."

"Including, Isaac's brother," stated Sheriff.

"Meaning they could've, theoretically, known each other," you said finishing your carrot before standing up once more.

"Two of them were married- so maybe they all just hung out."

Sheriff shook his head lightly, "Well, they could have had the same classes together. They could've-." You saw the man's face fall into a look of recognition. Stiles had caught it too, "What?"

"Same teacher." Mr. Harris' picture was on the page, clear as day.

"All four. Now I don't know how Mr. Lahey fits in, but this- kids, this is definitely a pattern. Alright, get me the 2006 yearbook. These names, we need faces."

"Which ones," you asked as Sheriff went to make a phone call. "Everyone in that chemistry class," he answered, "If the killer's not done killing..."

"One of them is next," Stiles said.

"Yeah."

~

Later that night, you had promised to meet Scott at the clinic to relay everything you just found out. He wanted you there though because Derek was planning to show up and he figured a three versus one when it came to opinions would work better in his favor.

"So, you weren't able to get tickets," you asked currently perched on the half wall in the lobby. The boy confirmed your question, "Nope, but we need to find some because Jackson seemed very hell bent on getting them."

You nodded slowly, "Meaning whoever is controlling him, desperately wants to be there." Scott agreed and then his head perked up, looking at the clinic door. You figured it was because he heard Derek so you felt no need to stand up from your position.

Scott walked over, unlocking the door letting Derek in, "What's he doing here," you heard him asked.

You looked up and felt your breath get caught in your throat, you weren't expecting Isaac to come. Guess it was only fair since Derek wasn't informed of your presence either. "I need him," the Alpha said bluntly.

"I don't trust him," Scott shot back. Mean while all you could do was stare and the Beta made eye contact with you for just a second.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either," you would be lying if you were to say that his voice didn't make your heart flutter. Once he finished his sentence he walked passed both the other werewolves standing close to where you were sitting on the wall.

"You know what and Derek really doesn't care."

You raised your hands as you blurted out, "Oh my god, one more person talks in third person and (Y/N) might just punch you all in your throats." You heard Isaac snort out a quiet laugh as he turned his head to look at you. His eyes gleamed like stars when they met yours.

Derek had interrupted your little moment, "Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?" You scoffed at the Alpha, "What great patience you have there, grumpy." You hopped off the wall and crossed the little group to stand next to Scott, just in time for Deaton to come out of the back room.

"That depends, your friend Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?"

"Save him," you and Scott synced.

"Kill him," Derek had said at the same time.

You and Scott both whipped around looking at the dark haired werewolf in disbelief, "Save him," Scott argued once more before looking at you. Your eyes both met and stared at each other for a moment, like a form of silent communication. You nodded at him once more before both of you turned back to Deaton and synced again, "Save him."

Deaton had a small smile on his face and nodded, gesturing for you all to follow him. Derek had silently walked passed definitely grumpy of being out numbered. Scott followed a second later, leaving you and Isaac alone for just a moment.

You turned to him quickly whispering, "Derek made you come?" He nodded in response, "And now I'm glad he did because I get to see my favorite girl." He stood next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder, keeping you from walking towards the back room door. You chuckled lightly, rolling your eyes, "You're never gonna stop with the nicknames, are you?"

You moved passed him, his arm falling back to his side and you spoke once more, your voice still lowered, "Fine but we still need to talk everything through. After this is all over." He nodded with a smile on his face following behind you and into the room with the others. He took his place in between the other two werewolves and you stood next to Deaton and helped him lay everything out. The sound of Derek's voice made you look up.

"Watch what you touch," he said with Isaac's arm in his hand. Deaton had picked up a jar reading it then showing you the label and pointing to the ingredient in the book laid out in front of you. He had become some what like a teacher to you, every chance you got you were here, learning, reading, practicing and he would guide you. Seems like he thought now was still a good time to show you some things.

Isaac had leaned down resting his arms on the table and now at eye level with you. He smirked when he saw your attention on him before asking his question to Deaton, "So, what are you, some kind of witch?"

"No, I'm a veterinarian."

Deaton's reply made you shake your head in amusement. You saw Isaac process the answer with his lips taking an "oh" shape silently, before he looked at you again. It felt like every chance he got, his eyes were stuck on you.

"Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin. Except for when (Y/N) is able to learn healing abilities, but even then, that could take time we don't have and it would really only be effective after the fact." Your head shot up, your body still leaned over from reading the pages. You glanced at everyone in the room before meeting Deaton's eyes.

"Wait, I can do that?" Deaton chuckled at your astonishment and nodded, "Well that's news to me," you said looking at your best friend.

"We're open to suggestions," Derek continued to conversation. "What about an effective offense," asked Isaac.

"Unlikely," you scoffed as Derek began speaking again, "We already tried, I nearly took its head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."

You mumbled lightly, "I'm really glad I haven't had to fight this thing." The boys looked at you, a certain Alpha showing a very obvious annoyance, "What? I'm sorry, okay. Stiles isn't here to voice my thoughts like he always seems to, I can't help it."

Deaton looked at all of you, "Has it shown any weaknesses?"

Derek answered his question, "Well one- it can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No," Scott interjected as you shook your head, your posture now straight and your arms crossed. You continued for the Omega, "He's the captain of the swim team." Deaton nodded along at both inputs, "Essentially, you're trying to catch two people."

He turned grabbing something from a drawer, he show you an amulet, "A puppet... and a puppeteer." He set it on the table and continued, "One killed the husband but the other had to take care of the wife, do we know why?"

Scott piped up gaining everyone's attention, "I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murder. I think he couldn't let the same happen to someone else."

"How do you know it's not part of the rules?" Isaac's eyes were slightly glazed over as he stared at the table. When his eyes blinked and his attention was no longer stuck, he continued, "The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too."

He looked at Scott and when he did, you felt your body jolt. It was the weirdest sensation and you didn't understand why it happened. It wasn't a normal reaction so your only guess could've been it was something supernatural. You checked to see if anyone noticed and when you confirmed no one did, you made a mental note to ask Deaton about it later.

"Does that mean your father was a murderer," Scott questioned.

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was." His eyes were back in your direction only his focus was on the wall behind you; you were okay with that though, you didn't want him to see the frown you had.

"Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right?" Deaton's hand was held out as he hypothesized, "What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him." You nodded along adding to his words, "Like they're not only bonded as in partners but mentally." Deaton pointed to you grabbing a small jar.

"What if something that affects the Kanima also affects its master." He circled the sand like substance around the amulet on the table, "Meaning what," Isaac asked.

"Meaning we can catch them," Scott started.

"Both of them," you finished.

~

The next morning consisted of both you and Scott telling Stiles everything on the way to school. "There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?" Scott hopped out of Roscoe as he finished his question, helping you out as well. Stiles met you both on the sidewalk, "It's a secret show, there's only one way, and it's a secret." You adjusted your bag onto your shoulders, "Real helpful, Stiles," you joked.

"Hey!"

All three of you turned to find Matt, "You guys know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?"

"Just forget about it, nobody got hurt," Stiles tried to convince him. Matt gave him a confused look, "I-I had a concussion." You turned your head and laid it into Scott's shoulder, hiding your small laugh threatening to come out.

"Okay well no one got seriously hurt."

"I was in the E.R. for six hours."

"Okay, do you want to know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now." Stiles had proven his point even more by leaning over and placing his hand just inches from the concrete. Your cover of your amusement was taken from you when Scott moved forward to ask if Matt was alright.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, now. So, you didn't get any tickets last night either."

"Are they selling?"

"Uh, no, but I managed to find two online. You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's going to be there." He gave Scott a friendly fist to the shoulder before walking away.

"I don't like him," You and Stiles both said, once he was far enough.

"Hey, are you sure about this," he asked Scott. "Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job," Scott said.

You chimed in, "So, what do you think he's going to do this time?"

Stiles sighed, "Be there to make sure it happens," He shook his head before both boys turned, taking their places beside you as you walked in the school.

~

"Can anybody tell me where the hell Jackson is and why he missed morning practice?"

Coach was right, practice was already over and there was no sign of Jackson. Everyone shook their heads and Stiles leaned over so you and Scott could hear him better, "I thought I told you to keep an eye on him."

"STILINSKI!" You three straighten and looked at Coach, "Jackson!" Stiles shrugged, "Sorry, Coach I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him."

"Oh, and when was that?"

"The last time I saw him was definitely the time I saw him last."

"Again, Danny, tell Jackson no missing practice this close to the championships, okay," Coach was leaned over in Danny's eyesight. The boy nodded, "Sure, Coach." Coach started to back up into his office, "That goes for all of you. I should be coaching college." He started to close his door but just before he did, he looked at you, "(Y/N), I'm going to need to see you later for game plans."

You nodded, "You got it." He finally closed his door, which allowed the boys to go back to talking to Danny. "Sorry, but I only got two myself," Danny said.

"What- do you even have a date, yet?" Your head snapped to Stiles, your arm shooting out to smack him in the stomach, "Really?"

Danny's tone changed, "I'm working on it."

"Okay, okay, hear me out. You give us the tickets, and you devote your life to abstinence and just-." Before Stiles could finished both him and Scott were pulled away and you felt someone right behind you, "How do you two losers even survive?" It was Isaac, you looked behind you to see him looking between the two boys, his hands still gripping their shirts.

You scoffed and pointed to yourself, "That would be thanks to me, actually." Isaac looked at you and smirked, acknowledging your answer. Scott huffed, "What are we supposed to do? No one's even selling." He gestured to the whole locker room, where all the boys stood around, probably waiting for you to leave so they could begin changing.

Isaac's eyes were focused somewhere in the distance, you felts hands lightly place themselves on your waist guiding you closer to Scott. The tall werewolf patted Stiles on the chest, moving passed him, "Wait here, boys."

All of you gave each other looks of confusion, Scott asking, "What is he-?" But he never got to finish, thanks to the crash caused by Isaac. You guys flinched at the loudness, "Ow," you commented.

"Yup, that's excessive," Stiles added on, the sounds only getting louder as Isaac continued his actions. "That'll bruise."

"Ow," Scott repeated your first comment.

"Wow, okay." Isaac walked back over, tickets in hand, he handed you each one before turning around his hand in his pocket, "Enjoy the show."

You guys were in shock until you broke it with your words, "That was... so hot." Both boys looked at you, wide-eyed, when you saw them you just shrugged, "What? He's on our side now, I can say that."

Stiles pointed at you, "I thought you were mad at him?" Scott nodded in agreement.

You rocked your head from side to side, "I was and still kind of am, but that doesn't mean I can't find that," you circled your hand motioning to the boy walking away, "Extremely attractive." Scott and Stiles both scoffed, the spastic both pushing you slightly, "Get out of here, you dummy, let us change."

You laughed and walked out the room, only making it a few steps out the door before you heard your name once more. You turned to see the boy you were just talking about leaning against the wall, "I heard you." You smiled as cluelessly as you could and walked closer until you were inches from his figure, "Heard what, exactly?"

His arm came around your waist again, this time turning you so your back was pressed up against the wall and his body was trapping you. "You find me attractive, huh?" His eyes were on you, glancing at your lips before reaching your eyes once more, "Always did," you answered. You leaned a little closer missing his lips and bringing yours close to his ear and whispered, "See, isn't it so much more fun when you're on our side?"

You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was laying itself on your waist, removing it gently and sliding out of his grip, "I'll see you tonight, Isaac."

~

"Ketamine?"

"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage."

Deaton set down the syringe and bottle, "If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him enough to buy you some time." He turned picking up a jar with that same sand from the other night, "This is some of what you will use to create the barrier. This part is for you, Stiles. Only you." He placed it down and Stiles picked it up his eyebrow raised, "Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure. Can we maybe find a less pressure-filled task for me?"

"It's from the mountain ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural." He gestured to the walls, "This office is lined with ashwood, making it difficult for someone like Scott or (Y/N) to cause me any trouble."

We turned back to Stiles to see him still confused, "Okay, so then what? I just spread this around the whole building and then neither Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"

"They'll be trapped," Deaton confirmed.

"Doesn't sound too hard," Scott reassured.

"Not all there is," Deaton said. You sighed and slumped your posture, "There's always something."

"Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it." He pointed to Stiles, "You have to be that spark, Stiles."

"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that."

Scott looked at Stiles worried and then you to which you rolled your eyes. Deaton gave a silent chuckle, "Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

Stiles mumbled, "Force of will." You grabbed his hand, "You got this, no sweat."

"If this is going to work Stiles, you have to believe it."

~

The night had finally arrived, your nerves were definitely getting to you. It also didn't help that the car ride over seemed really awkward. Stiles was oddly quiet and you could tell that Scott noticed as well.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

You and Scott shrugged lightly and you spoke, "You didn't say anything the whole way here." Stiles grabbed the bag out of the Jeep and looked at you both, "No, I'm fine. Let's grab the other bag."

Scott looked at Stiles, "We can't, remember Deaton said you have to do this alone."

"Okay, this plan is really starting to suck."

You smiled, "There's our Stiles."

"No, not here, not now."

You turned to see Scott running off, panicked you looked at Stiles who was just as bewildered as you. "What," Stiles said.

"Scott!" You called as Stiles continued on, "What am I supposed to- plan officially sucks!" He looked at you and you just shrugged. "I'm going to go look for Isaac and Erica, you got this Stiles." He waved his hands at you in frustration, "Yeah, whatever, go make out with your boyfriend." You gasped, "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Yet."

You pointed behind him, "Go play with your sand." He huffed a laugh and you turned to make your way into the building. The music could already be heard from inside but still it was quite a shock on how loud it actually was. The lights were blinding, you squinted to try and find the two Betas but to no avail they were no where to be seen in the sea of people.

Deciding that staying on the outskirts was your best course of action, you began to make your way to the side where a line of pillars were. You leaned on one of them as you scanned the area again, looking for any signs of any werewolves.

"You planning on dancing tonight?"

You jumped at the sound of Isaac's voice right in your ear. You turned and you were sure you looked like a deer in headlights considering the boy only started laughing when he saw your face. You punched his shoulder and he faked a wince, "Don't do that! Where's Erica?"

He nudged his head in the direction of the crowd behind you, "In there, thought I would come look for you while she looked for Jackson."

"Me?"

"You and Scott."

You scoffed, "You said me." He smiled making the motion to press his forehead against yours, "Okay, it was mainly for you." You laughed and moved your head away, leaning back on the pillar, "My, you're quite the flirt these days." He shrugged leaning against the pillar with you, one hand in his pocket. He looked down and crossed your pinky with his.

"You're not as mad at me as you have been, it's a little easier now."

You chuckled and nodded, "True, true."

You saw Scott come around the corner, you let go of Isaac and that caused him to look where you were looking. You dashed towards the Omega and hugged him quickly, "Where did you go?"

"Allison's here."

You looked at him, "That means her dad is here." He nodded and started making his way to Isaac, who was still leaning against the pillar watching you guys. Scott handed him the syringe, "Why me," Isaac asked. They were standing side by side while you stood just slightly off from them.

"Because I got to make sure that Argent doesn't completely ruin the plan. Okay, look, you gotta do it intravenously, which means in the vein. When you find him, you pull back on this plunger right here. The neck is probably gonna be the easiest, so you find a vein, you jam it in there, and pull back on this trigger right here. Be careful."

Scott had given him a whole lecture on the plan, Isaac chuckled, "Oh, I doubt it'll even slightly hurt him." Scott shook his head, "No, I mean you. I don't want you to get hurt." Isaac's head shot to the side in surprise. There was this moment of silence between them and that's when you felt it... another jolt. This time it was stronger.

What was going on? Why has it happened twice now?

Your thoughts were broken when hands grabbed your shoulders. You blinked and refocused on Scott, "And you be careful too, okay? Stay out of the way." You scoffed, "Okay, Mom."

"(Y/N), I'm serious."

You laughed and pushed him away, "Yes, I know, I'll be careful. Now go growl at middle aged men." He smiled at you before running off. You and Isaac were left alone once again. He seemed to still be in shock at the conversation he just had.

"I told you so."

"What?"

"I told you, we care about you guys." He turned to see your smirk wearing face. He snickered, "You always have to be right, don't you." You gave a bright smile and a quick nod, "Yep," you grabbed his hand, "Seriously, be careful."

He used the grip you already had on his hand to bring you closer, his forehead back to resting on yours, "I will but it would be nice to have some incentive." You let your eyes lock with his, "Okay, you get out of this alive and I'll forgive you completely." His face practically lit up and he tried to hide it but you saw the bright expression just before he went back to his usual resting smirk.

"Now that's what I like to hear," his head shifted upwards and you felt his lips on your forehead. He pressed them there ever so gently before letting them leave your skin. "I'll see you soon, beautiful," he made the move of leaving first but was stopped by you grabbing the front of his shirt.

"You do anything too sexual with Erica and I'll kill you, Lahey, understand?"

He smirked, "Yes, ma'am."

~

You went to find Stiles after you had set up the area you guys were planning to keep Jackson. You guys had caught each other at the front entrance and you were now making your way towards the room, listening to Stiles excitement on how he had done his task.

You two had made it to the door and when you opened it you had startled the two Beta wolves. "Uh, no, no, no, just us. It's just us. Don't freak," Stiles rambled. You let out a breath of relief when you saw Isaac was alright and it looked like Isaac had done the same when he saw you.

"Is he okay," your best friend asked.

Isaac walked over to Jackson, raising his claw up, "Well... let's find out." When he went to swipe at Jackson his hand was caught as the lizard boy started to crush his hand. Isaac let out a groan of pain and he pulled back as hard as he could. He backed up to guys and you instantly grabbed his arm, "Are you okay?" Even when he was still grunting in pain, he nodded.

"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay," Stiles pointed to everyone and he received unanimous nods. Isaac groaned one more time, "I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out."

"Yeah, well, apparently this is all we're gonna get, so let's just hope that whoever's controlling him just decided to show up tonight."

Almost as if on cue, Jackson's eyes opened. You erratically began tapping Stiles and Isaac, "Guys, guys. Something's happening." Everyone watched Jackson as he started to speak, "I'm here." His voiced echoed and you could hear not just Jackson but someone else. It had to be the person controlling him.

"I'm right here with you."

You and Stiles looked at each other and slowly stepped towards the boy in the chair. "(Y/N), come back here." You ignored Isaac's words and crouched next to Stiles.

"Jackson, is that you," you asked quietly.

"Us. We're all here."

Stiles was taken aback by the answer, glancing over his shoulder at the werewolves behind you. "Are you the one killing people," Stiles questioned.

"We're the ones killing murderers."

His voice was full of venom and it was nearly as paralyzing as his actual toxin. It made you shiver out of fear. "So all the people you've killed so far-."

"Deserved it." He cut off Stiles violently.

"We got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers."

"Anything can break if enough pressure is applied."

You looked at Stiles again and took over the questioning, "Alright, so the people you're killing are all murderers then?"

"All. Each. Every one."

"Well, who'd they murder?"

"Me." His reply to your question truly stunned you, "They murdered me." Jackson's eyes rolled into his slitted ones and his head turned straight, "They murdered me." You and Stiles got up and started to back your way to the other two. Isaac had a small grip on your hip, keeping you close. You started to see Jackson's hands move, breaking free from its previous stillness.

"Alright," Stiles panicked, "Ketamine, the man needs more ketamine."

Isaac picked up the bottle, "We don't have anymore." Your best friend whipped around, "You used the whole bottle?" You saw Erica tap Stiles and you all looked to see Jackson standing, he hissed and his head began to shake violently.

"Okay, out, everybody out," you pushed Erica and Stiles forward. They needed no help from you though, all four of you rushed out of the room, bumping into each other until you closed the door. Everyone pressed their back on it and Stiles gave out instruction, "Okay, (Y/N), make a barrier hurry." It was too late, Jackson had busted through the wall and had made a break for it.

You guys all ran for the front door as everyone began leaving, you and Stiles made it outside and he crossed the line meeting Derek who was jogging over.

"Hey so we kind of lost Jackson inside, but it's-," Stiles' attention was on you and the two Betas who had also just walked out. You three were right on the line, they looked at you for reassurance and you raised your hand coming in contact with an invisible wall, it glowed a blueish color as you put more pressure on it.

"Oh, my god! It's working! Oh this is- yes! I did something!"

You heard a roar, it was so guttural. You felt the heat in your eyes, this time it was intense, if you weren't used to it by now it might have actually bugged you.

Scott

"Scott?" Derek had voiced your thought, he looked at you, he saw your eyes glow and he heard it too. The roar of a dying Scott.

"What," Stiles turned to Derek.

"Break it."

"What? No way!"

"Scott's dying!"

"What? How do you know that?"

"Oh, my god, Stiles! I just know! Break it!" Stiles broke the line and Derek took off. You could feel your feet moving before you could even think as you started to try and run too. You were stopped, however, by Isaac grabbing you, both arms wrapped around you.

"NO! LET GO! ISAAC! LET GO! SCOTT HE- HE'S HURT! YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO!" It was almost manic how much you thrashed to try and get out of the boy's hold. He held on tighter, "(Y/N), no, okay you can't, you can't fight yet. Derek will save him, okay, Derek will save him."

Your eyes were pouring tears at this point, "No, no, Scott he needs help, he needs me," you whimpered as you fell to the ground, Isaac coming with you but his arms never leaving their position around you.

His lips pressed against your hair and he just continued to comfort you, "I know, baby, I know. But he's gonna be okay. Derek's gonna save him. You have to stay here, okay, baby?"

You nodded still crying now holding onto Isaac like your life depended on it, muttering the same thing over and over again, "Scott he's- he's dying. He's dying- he's-."

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧

"It's okay, baby, it's gonna be okay."

a/n: I finally gave you guys more isaac and y/n, aren't you guys happy with me? lol anyways hope you guys enjoy! let me know what you think!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction @mushroomelephant @breadbrobin @traumverloren-anderswelt @fandom-princess-forevermore @vanessa-boo

[heavyhitterheaux]

Teenage Woes Part 2

First Babies of Private Garden Fic

AN: Here we gooo

Synopsis: A certain person finds out what the triplets have done and takes matter into her own hands to set them straight while Jack it at his wits end with Axel's antics

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Read Part 1 first

First Babies of Private Garden Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You had just gotten back from Aruba and it was around four in the morning. Attempting to walk into the house quietly, you took to the steps while dragging your huge suitcase behind you and silently cursed to yourself about how much you bought since your bedroom was in the middle of the hallway and you were doing your best to not have to take breaks.

Once you were finally in your room, Jack was sound asleep as you ventured over to the closet to begin to put your clothes away and peel off the clothes that you had on so you could hop in the shower and quickly get in bed in order to sleep. The goal was to sleep in for as long as you could before waking up your youngest three to help them get ready for the day while the oldest three were on their own. You meant what you had said before you left for your girls trip, that you wouldn’t bend over backwards for them anymore like you had been doing since they acted nothing but ungrateful towards you.

They had to learn the hard way and Jack was also in the same boat right along with them because he had gone behind your back and given them the okay to have their phones as well as their car keys and it wasn’t until you confronted him about it that he quickly took them back.

Once moisturized and in a clean set of pajamas, you looked at your phone to see that it was around 5:30 in the morning and decided to sleep in the guest room not even wanting to be bothered with Jack. All of them had a lot of making up to do in order to get back in your good graces. 

It was now close to 8 in the morning when you finally got up and made your way downstairs to see that Jack was packing lunch for Cash and Camden who were sitting at the table fascinated by something on their tablet and eating their breakfast. Once they saw you, they immediately hopped out of their seats in order to greet you.

“Mommy! You’re back.” Jack looked over at you and simply smiled at you which you didn’t bother to return. He would talk to you about it after he dropped the kids off at school.

“We missed you. Daddy can’t cook.” Camden whispered the last part in your ear and all you did was laugh.

“I missed you too. And he’s gotten a little better. Go and finish your food so that I can take you to school.”

“I’ll take them, babe. I know you only got here a few hours ago and you can go back to sleep.”

This caused you to do a double take as you looked over at your husband in disbelief before crossing your arms.

“Worry about your oldest three, not them. I don’t mind.”

“Just let me do this, okay? I took them already and they’ve been on their best behavior since you left..” Jack pleaded with you and you finally agreed.

“Well of course, they’ll always be on their best behavior for their favorite parent. Anyway, where’s Nova?”

“PRESENT! Mommy, you’re back! Can you help me with my hair?” Nova asked you as she came into the kitchen and you immediately nodded.

“Of course, how did you want it?”

“Two French braids please.”

She sat down at the end of the table and handed you the comb in order to part her hair and you quickly braided it. Once finished, you handed her back the comb to put back upstairs in her room and looked over at the clock on the wall to see that everyone needed to leave in the next ten minutes in order to not be late.

Cash got down from the table first taking his bowl with him before going over to Jack so he could put it in the sink while Camden soon followed after he took his last bite.

"Come on, let's wash your hands so we can get in the car and leave." Jack told the two of them and they each moved their step stool in front of the sink to do so while Nova was putting the last of her things in her backpack and you were deciding on what you wanted to eat.

"Say bye to mommy so we can go."

Cash was the first one to hop up into your lap and you proceeded to kiss his cheek as he gave you a hug.

"Love you, mommy."

"Love you too, bubs."

Camden quickly followed suit and soon you were put into a bone crushing hug by Nova. You swore that she grew two inches in the two weeks that you had been gone.

Jack leaned down to kiss the top of your head and bring you into a hug after she had finally let go. 

"I'm still mad at you." Was all you said to him and he sighed.

"Babe…."

"No. And I was serious about you using your hand for a month because you are not putting your hands anywhere near me."

"I… let me drop them off and we'll talk about it when I come back."

"There really isn't any to talk about because I made myself clear before I left how this was going to go. As for now I'm hungry and about to make myself food and then go back to sleep."

When Jack had gotten back, he found you in the kitchen making what looked to be brownies and he went to grab one as you quickly slapped his hand away.

"OW!"

"Don't touch that. They aren't for you."

"Baby, can you please tell me what I can do to fix this?" One thing that he hated was the two of you being at odds and he was really feeling it now because he was caught in the middle of what his triplets did.

"I'm just so over the situation that it doesn't even matter."

"Yes it does because my wife is walking around our house upset and all I want to do is make it better."

"You already know the answer so I shouldn't have to tell you. I am literally three seconds away from giving the triplets and you the silent treatment but I'm not going to. I should have stayed away longer." 

"We need to make a decision and stick to it no matter what regarding them."

"I told you that you already knew the answer and if Autumn steps another toe out of line, hair out of place…."

"She's not going to. I'll make sure of it."

"If she doesn't like me now, she seriously is not going to like me then." You answered thinking of possible consequences in your head. You had absolutely no problem sending her away until she learned how to respect you as well as the rules that you had set into place.

"She does love you, just…"

"No. You always take up for her and I'm sick and tired of it. You have done that ever since she was little and I distinctly remember you thinking that it was going to be me who let her get away with everything, but look how the tables have turned. I don’t even recognize my once sweet little girl."

The two of you used to be partners in crime until she turned fifteen and then you had no idea what happened. Something had shifted and it wasn’t a good shift. 

"Because she literally acts like you. I know you've noticed. She actually came to me and asked what she could do for you to accept her apology." 

"But the disrespect towards me? I never did that to my mother or father because I knew better. And it seems like ever since they turned 16, they don't know how to fucking act but for her it started last year. But remember she's not apologizing if she doesn't mean it. I'm not taking care of anyone who is not grateful for all that I do towards them. I love them with everything in me and I do not take for granted the opportunity to be a mother, but they are seriously testing my patience." You answered while placing another batch in the oven.

"I agree that it was uncalled for and she should have never spoken to you like that."

"My patience is gone so…" You said while shrugging and Jack ran a hand through his curls.

"We'll get through this, babe."

"The only way we'll get through it is if we do this as a team."

“I know. So do you want to tell me why you slept in the guest room when you came back this morning?”

“Simple, I didn’t want to look at you.”

“BABY!”

“I’m just being honest. I needed a moment to myself and I really don’t get that anymore. You really made me feel as if what I say doesn’t hold any weight and doesn’t matter. I know you didn’t see it that way and apologized for it but still.”

“We have a surprise for you a little later this week and I think it will help ease some of the tension. But we’re all going to do better moving forward.”

“I’m not going to believe you until someone shows me.”

A few days later, it was Tuesday morning and Jack happened to be driving through Louisville in order to go to your favorite bakery to pick up the blueberry muffins that you like when he spotted Axel standing outside of Carmichael’s with a bunch of his friends and quickly turned around and pulled up outside of the store.

“AXEL WYATT HARLOW GET YOUR ASS IN THIS CAR NOW!”

Axel was startled at the sound of his father’s voice and he turned around to see him red in the face and fuming.

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath and sighed before walking to the passenger side of the car and getting in.

Jack started driving and was silent for the entire time they rode to the bakery. Once he parked is when he finally turned to Axel.

“I’m convinced you want your mother to kill both of us.” Jack said while pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Dad…”

“I didn’t ask you to speak. So now we’re skipping school after me and your mother are paying that expensive ass tuition for all THREE of you to go there?”

“Please don’t tell her.”

“HOW CAN I NOT? SO I DROPPED YOU OFF AT SCHOOL THIS MORNING AND YOU DECIDED TO LEAVE AND WASTE MY MONEY IN THE PROCESS.”

“You have more than enough of it.” Axel muttered and Jack did a double take.

“Forget this gentle parenting. What the actual fuck is wrong with you? So you think money grows on trees now?”

“No…”

“Do you not know how hard me and your mother have worked for all six of you to live comfortably and not have a care in the world? I cannot believe that actually came out of your mouth. What happened to my little quiet innocent Axel who used to never talk back, never got an attitude, would always offer to help when you see that me, your mother, or siblings needed it? And you’ve been smoking because I smell it. So, once again you aren’t listening to the rules we’ve set in place.”

All Axel did was stay quiet.

“Being quiet now isn’t an answer. You had so much to say before so speak up. Since you want to step to me like you’re a grown ass man, stand on it. Obviously that means you can provide for yourself now, right?”

“I’m sorry.” Axel quietly said and Jack just shook his head at him. 

“Yeah, I bet you are. Go in the bakery and get your mom’s favorite muffins. That will be your peace offering after you tell her what you did and I will be standing there the entire time so try and lie to her if you want.”

Axel took Jack’s credit card and did what he was told and actually came back with two containers of them knowing that one probably wasn’t going to be enough.

Once the two of them reached the house, it was around 12 PM and you were caught off guard as you saw Jack with Axel and he was holding two containers of muffins.

“Jack…” You started to say, but all he did was cross his arms to look at Axel.

“Tell her what you did.”

“Umm…”

“What is going on? Ax, are you okay? Are you hurt?” You asked now, becoming nervous and checking him out for bumps and bruises. 

“5….4…3…” Jack began to say, but Axel immediately blurted it out.

“Skipped school and dad caught me in front of Carmichael’s and I was smoking. I got your favorite muffins as a peace offering.” Axel hesitantly said as he placed the muffins on the counter and all you were doing was looking at him.

Nothing was said for a few minutes as you were trying to regulate your breathing and this made both of them become nervous.

You calmly walked past both of them in the direction of the stairs and they were calling out to you in order to get your attention.

“MOM!”

“Babe!”

All you did was go up the steps and proceed to slam your bedroom door and lock it before either of them could get to you. 

“Mom! I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I promise!” Axel said while knocking on your bedroom door while Jack was simply behind him pacing back and forth.

You didn’t give him a response.

“Mom, I know you’re mad, pissed even but…..”

That was when he suddenly heard your voice. 

“Axel Wyatt get away from my bedroom door NOW.”

Axel sighed in response before going into his own bedroom and once you heard his footsteps move away from the door, you opened it and was met with Jack who saw your eyes full of tears and you being red in the face from anger.

“Baby girl….”

“I don’t even know what to say anymore. I’m taking the golden girls for a walk.”

Once Ivy and Autumn were picked up by Jack and brought home, Autumn said she had a gift for you and for you to sit in the living room and she would bring it.

As Autumn handed you the box, you immediately knew it was a Birkin and for the first time in your life you weren’t impressed.

Opening it, you saw that it was a shade of baby blue outlining the black material and knew she did this and definitely asked Jack to buy it since this is one of the only colors that you didn’t have.

“Do you like it? I know you don’t have this one so I picked it out for you.” She quietly said and all you did was look at her before placing it back in the box.

“Am I supposed to be impressed by this because I’m not.” Was all you said and she started to look nervous while Ivy and Axel exchanged looks with each other.

“Well… I…. I figured that this was a part of my apology to you. Well all of us really.”

All you did was slide the box back towards her while Jack’s eyes went wide.

The fact that you didn’t even want the Birkin spoke volumes and then he knew that he as well as his three oldest children were in deep shit.

“Hmm, no thanks.”

“But… you love Birkins and have been obsessed with him since forever.” Axel offered and all you did was stare at him. 

“Your point?”

“Mommy, we’re really sorry for how we acted. We know that you’re so hard on us because you care about us and only want the best for us.” Ivy finally spoke up, but you weren’t budging.

“Spend time with your favorite parent. I have a nail appointment and then I have to go and get Nova, Cash, and Camden. Oh, and don’t forget that Maggie wants all of you over for dinner later, but just you four are going.”

“Wait, babe. What? Why?” Jack asked and all you did was stare at him before responding. 

“You know why. I have things to do so I need to get a move on.”

“But mom…” Axel started to say, but all you did was get up from the table and make your way to your bedroom in order to get dressed.

Once you had left, the triplets looked at their father who immediately sighed.

“I definitely thought the Birkin would work.” Axel said and all of them agreed.

“So, what now?” Ivy asked and for the first time Jack didn’t have an answer.

“This usually always worked so now I don’t have any idea what to do. I swear the three of you better not pull any more shit because she’s going to become unhinged and none of you have truly seen your mother when she’s pissed off.”

Later that evening, once everyone had settled at the dinner table at Maggie and Brian’s house, she was confused on why you as well as her other grandchildren were missing and thought that you would have shown up by now.

“Where’s Y/N and my other babies?” The table was quiet and the triplets didn’t dare make eye contact with her. Jack started to speak, but was immediately cut off by Clay.

“Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but you’re three oldest grandchildren as in Ivy, Axel, and Autumn have been extremely disrespectful towards her and talking back as well as getting suspended for cursing teachers out, fighting, smoking, and also skipping school so she told Jack to deal with them until they can learn to respect her and respect the rules that they set in place for them. Did I get it all, you three?” Clay asked while turning to look at all three of them before looking back at his mother and the look on her face had her ready to body slam them.

“EXCUSE ME? YOU THREE ARE DOING WHAT?”

“Grammy…..”

“Autumn, do NOT. Brian hand me my phone to call Y/N on facetime. One thing I will not tolerate is you disrespecting your parents. Especially my daughter who gave birth to all three of you.”

“Oh, and Autumn also said that they were cut out and not pushed out to her face. Forgot Jack told me that.” Clay added while patting him on the back and all he did was sigh.

You answered on the second ring on facetime when you saw that it was Maggie.

“Hi mom! Are you okay? Why are you making that face?” You asked and she sighed before answering you.

“Clay has told me that those oldest children of yours have been disrespectful towards both you and my oldest child and I had to call you to confirm.”

“Hmm that sounds about right, but your oldest child isn’t innocent either.”

“Oh shit.” Clay muttered while looking down at his plate.

“Oh, really? Tell me more.”

“I took Ivy and Axel’s phones away after they got suspended and told Ax he couldn’t play in his soccer game all for Jackman to turn around and do the complete opposite. They had the nerve to buy me a Birkin like that was going to be a peace offering for the way that they had been acting.”

“If it was me and Y/N…” Clay started to say, but Maggie cut him off.

“Clayborn, SHUT IT.”

Clay simply held up his hands in defense as Jack was simply being interested in his mashed potatoes. 

“Where are you right now?”

“Me and the babies are at Vincezo’s having a date night. We got dressed up and everything. Until the four of them act like they have sense, they aren’t allowed to go with me anywhere and yes Jack is included in that. I’m sick and tired of how they’ve been acting and since I don’t want to deal with it, I’m not going to. Oh and Autumn did say Jack was her favorite parent and how people in prison get treated better than they do and she’s not going to apologize because she doesn’t mean it. So they can stay there with their favorite parent while me and the babies go to Six Flags this weekend. All I try to do is the absolute best for them, but if they don’t want me too, that’s fine. Cam, baby let me help you cut that. It’s too big and I don't want you to choke.”

“Okay, sweetheart. That’s all I needed to know. Just make sure the four of you stay safe while I deal with your triplets and my oldest child.”

“Love you mom! Have fun because I think it’ll fall on deaf ears. Tell dad I said hi!”

“Will do, love you too.”

Once Maggie hung up, the room was silent.

“Mom…” Jack started to say and she immediately held up her hand while Brian was scratching the back of his neck looking nervous.

“The three of you have some nerve. Some serious nerve to be acting like this when you all were literally born with a silver spoon in your mouths. I get that you’re teenagers and want a little bit more independence but how is that going to happen when you show your entire ass and show that none of you can conduct yourselves? Autumn, you are the exact replica of your mother, but she never acted as horribly as you are. Yes, she fought, but the fact that you are also having secret boyfriends and going behind your parents backs? And Ivy, I assume you’re the one who cussed out your teacher. When were you taught to do that? And Axel, the quietest of my grandchildren is now smoking and trying to go through the rest of his life without a lung and skipping school and getting caught by your father. And how dare you say that you were cut out. So that makes it easier? Having to visit the three of you in the NICU everyday made it easier? Having postpartum depression from having the three of you made it easier? Putting her career on hold for the three of you so she could be a full time mother made it easier? At one point, we didn’t even know if Axel would still be here! And the fact that you opened your mouth to say it to her face.”

“Um, grandma, Autumn said it, not us.” Axel quietly said, but all she did was glare at him.

“Do you honestly think I care who said what at this point? That doesn’t take away how disrespectful you three were.”

No one spoke for a few minutes as Maggie began massaging her temples.

“You three don’t even know the half of what your mother has gone through to have you as well as keep you. So many times I thought that she would break, but never did and I’m proud to see how far she’s come from that shy little fourteen year old to a grown woman and I will be damned if her own offspring are disrespectful towards her. All three of you be quiet and eat your food and after this conversation tonight, if any of you do the slightest thing that is out of line of what their rules are, I will come and get you and you will be enrolled in Grandma’s boot camp for the rest of the year and you will not like it. Do not try me. And none of you are getting birthday and Christmas gifts this year so don’t bother asking.”

“Yes ma’am.” All three of them said as they continued to eat. Ivy didn’t really have an appetite, but knew that she should eat since you hadn’t been cooking lately and would probably have to eat a frozen burrito.

“Jackman, living room. NOW.”

The two of them were now sitting next to each other and Maggie had her arms crossed while staring at him. 

“Mom, I know.”

“Then why did you do that?! The two of you have to be on the same page because they are going to think that they can get away with anything and that’s not the case!”

“It was only the first time for them. Not like Autumn who has been suspended multiple times.”

“There is no reason for them to get a shorter punishment just because it was their first time. You’ve become so lenient with them and Y/N isn’t and I thought when they were born that it would be the opposite. You are not their friend, you are their PARENT. You two need to get on the same page and also text Y/N to bring me and Brian a slice of cheesecake. All four of you have stressed me the hell out tonight and when I call Y/N for an update, this better not happen again.”

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[runnning-outof-time]

How the Bestest Boy Celebrates the Holidays

Request: no - @raincoffeeandfandoms and I were talking about Christmas Cyril and this popped into my mind.

Pairing: no pairing … just Cyril, Alfie, and Tommy with the mention of the lovely OC Rose Solomons

Summary: Cyril’s two dads owners discuss how their canine best friend should be treated on the holidays.

Warnings: language (Alfie’s present…does it even need to be a warning?), two gangsters who are secretly softies when it comes to a certain dog - this is just a silly little story, y’all.

Word Count: 629

A/N: I hope you enjoy this little piece that I came up with after chatting with Flor….Cyril deserves to have the best holidays! Also thanks to the lovely Flor for this amazing picture - it’s what sparked this entire idea. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

“You’ve got Cyril’s presents all ready, yeah?” Alfie Solomons asked as he leaned back against his office’s chair, the phone receiver pressed to his ear.

Tommy Shelby sighed. The man on the other line hadn’t even greeted him. “He’s a fucking dog, Alfie,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, “please don’t tell me this is why you called.”

“He’s our fucking dog though, Tommy. He deserves some fucking presents, don’t you think?” Alfie quipped back, waving his hand in the air even though he was sitting by himself.

“I’ve been too busy to deal with it,” Tommy tried another strategy to deflect Alfie’s topic.

“And you think I haven’t been busy? Hmm?” Alfie quickly shot back, “you think the reason why I traipsed my way over to your fucking gaudy mansion for four of the last eight fucking days was to see you? You’re wrong, mate. I came for that dog. I only come for that dog. And then he enjoyed himself at Margate for the final four, was pampered like he should be. His gifts were custom-fucking-made, Tommy. But now you’re going to sell him short.”

“You made all of his presents?” Tommy picked one of the points Alfie made and asked him to elaborate on it, trying so hard to stay interested in this conversation. The conversation that was centered around a dog, and how said dog should be treated during the holidays.

“Nah, Rosie made most of ‘em,” Alfie answered nonchalantly, unable to stop a grin from forming as he mentioned his wife, “she sent me out to grab the rest…like the treats and whatnot.”

“And I’m needed to do the same now?” Tommy asked another question.

“It’s what’s right, Tommy,” Alfie insisted, “unless you want him thinking that Hanukkah is better than Christmas…then by all means, keep fucking it up for yourself.”

“Christmas isn’t until the 25th of the month, Alfie.”

“That’s just a week away.”

“Yeah, so I’ve got a week to get what I need for him.”

“It should be ready for when he returns, which is tomorrow.”

“Alfie…”

“Thomas,” Alfie leveled his tone to match the Birmingham gangster’s. “It needs to be right for him.”

Tommy let out a long sigh. There was no way he was going to beat Alfie Solomons at this fight, not when the other man’s mind had already been made up. They’d known each other too many years now for Tommy not to realize that that was how the baker from Camden Town operated.

“Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?” the blue-eyed man asked after a few moments had passed, deciding to change the topic of conversation. Silence came in response. “Alfie?” he checked to see if his confidant was still on the other side of the line.

“Nah, mate. That was it,” Alfie’s response was quick, and it made Tommy sigh again, “just make sure that dog’s presents are sorted, or it’s your fucking head on the line, got it?” The second half of his statement held a threatening tone.

“Got it,” Tommy responded. He was unable to get another word out before the line clicked and went dead. Alfie had hung up on him.

Tommy sat the phone back onto the hook before pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a sigh. Alfie was taking this whole holiday thing way too far. He was making a much bigger deal out of it than was needed.

Besides, if he knew the Peaky Blinder as much as he claimed he did, he would have known that Tommy already had all of Cyril’s presents purchased and in order…and that he had had them ready weeks ago.

That’s what the bestest boy deserves on the holidays, right?

I’m really not sure who I should tag in this … so I’m just gonna add some mutuals/people on here who might be interested - I’m sorry if I forgot anyone! Hopefully it gets sent out…..

@raincoffeeandfandoms @zablife @call-sign-shark @evita-shelby @cillmequick @emotionalcadaver @toms-cherry-trees @look-at-the-soul @thomashelbyswife @loverhymeswith @shelbydelrey @brummiereader @peakyltd @forgottenpeakywriter @there-goes-thefighter @hoodeddreams13 @peakyswritings @theshelbyslimited @gypsy-girl-08

MASTERLIST

[edwin-paynes-bowtie]

Butterflies

A Herondaisy drabble based on @hanelizabeth's beautiful art. Also, @angeldaisies, I think you'll like this one too.

You can read it on Ao3!

---

James dimly recalled Cordelia once telling him that she looked better in deep hues rather than pastels. She could not have been more wrong. James knew that his wife would be beautiful in anything she chose to wear, make the wings of his heart beat heavily until it took off inside of his chest. And now, looking upon her in her newest gown, James felt those wings take flight and lodge in his throat.

He was lost for words. Breathless. Angel, Cordelia was a dream beyond anything he had ever imagined.

She spun around, an impish smile on her face. "So, do you like it? I know it is far from my usual attire, but I rather liked all of the butterflies on the skirt." She paused. "There's just so much... so much whimsy-"

James knew that his golden eyes were smoldering as he took her in. "'Whimsy' is perhaps not the word I would assign to what I am currently feeling," he said, his voice deep and rich. He laughed, a low sound in his moth-addled mouth as the butterflies moved low in his belly. "I am thinking more along the lines of 'beauty' and 'excessively hopeless desire.'"

In an attempt at true whimsy, James waggled his eyebrows, and Cordelia laughed. She strolled up to him, lifted a finger, and poked his nose. "Your expression is truly quite amusing," she informed him lightly. "As though I am some sort of angel come to life, though I assure you that I am having far too much fun teasing my husband to truly be angelic."

Up close her opal earrings winked. They were set in gold, bringing out the glint of the globe necklace that James still remembered being fastened around her neck for the first time. The gold complimented the flame of her hair perfectly, and the blue...

Well, that brought out the sky shade of her gown, and the white accents and butterflies and sash offset her rich brown skin. The curve of a smile graced her lips, and James...

He wove a hand around her waist.

He pulled her in close.

And when their lips met, the butterflies in his throat and stomach became too much to bear. He made a small noise of desire as he trailed his hand up the small of her back to rest at the nape of her hair, the thick red chignon brushing the sides of his hands...

Cordelia pushed him away with a giggle. "Do control yourself," she said. "There shall be plenty of time for that tonight, and I will wear the dress if you want."

"I certainly would not complain," James told her in perhaps too agreeable a tone. "But you're right. As much as it pains me to let go, I would not wish to miss our dinner reservation. You know that I can never say no to duck ala orange, tempting though it may be."

-

The duck was good, but Cordelia was better.

She sat across from him devouring her lamb chops and parsnips, talking of a ridiculous dinner that she had recently had with Thomas and Alastair at their home in Cornwall Gardens. "I am telling you, Alastair gave me those lemons to mock me," she said. "You know how I find them too sour!"

"Very rude of him," James agreed, though there was no mirth in it. He liked Alastair. "Next time we have him over, we'll find a way to get him back. Perhaps an extra lump of sugar in his tea?"

"Oh, no. Set out blackberry tarts and pretend that there are not enough for him. He will be horribly overset by the time I reveal that there are, in fact, more in the icebox."

James laughed.

Over dessert, he told Cordelia about the time that he had gone to a market in Alsace with his father, an overcast day when the sun shone over dozens of cards filled to the brim with books. "And that was my first experience with a pop-up stalls," he said. "And now they are an eternal part of my existence."

"Oh!" Cordelia clapped her hands. "I remembered something. Next week in Camden there is to be a book fair. I saw a flyer for it at Comb's Coffee."

"Well, we're going. Mark the date," he told her. "And I will, of course, buy you all the books you want."

Cordelia grinned radiantly, and the opals in her ears sparkled. "Sounds like I'll be requiring a handcart," she said.

"And don't worry," James told her. "I'll select the most insufferable-looking bargain romance that I see so we can read it before the fire and laugh at its nonsense all night."

"My favorite kind of sleepless night," Cordelia agreed.

"You mean second favorite," James argued.

"No, actually, I don't." She smiled. "Though, of course, our other activities are a very close second, I very much just enjoy spending time with you."

She is my best friend, James thought unbidden. Absolutely and completely, I am hers.

And when he finally peeled her butterfly dress off after a night of laughter by the fireplace, he did not forget that.

[taeswolfie]

𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 : 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚

☽︎𝑹𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈☾︎

Ch.19 - Ch.21

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Y/n sits in the chair besides Stiles in his dad's office. She had been invited by the Stilinski's to have dinner and, even if she wanted to, she couldn't say no to Stiles' big brown eyes. Noah takes a bite of his burger only to be disappointed by its contents. "Oh, what the hell is this?"

"Veggie burger." Stiles says.

"Stiles, I asked for a hamburger."

"Well, veggie is healthier. We're being healthy." He shows off his salad then glances at Y/n. "Well, most of us." The girl looks up at that, a french fry hanging halfway out her lips before she munches it.

Noah then lifts the paper lid on his other container that holds celery and carrot sticks. "Oh, hell, why are you trying to ruin my life?"

"I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please?"

"Tell you what, Sheriff." Y/n leans forward. "I will trade you five fries for a celery and two carrot sticks, and you stop complaining and eat your food. Deal?" She raises a brow at him. Noah thinks about it for a second then nods.

"Fair enough." Once the trading of items is finished Stiles speaks up again.

"Tell us what you found."

"No, I'm not sharing confidential police work with teenagers."

Stiles looks at the board behind his dad. "Is that it on the board behind you?"

Noah glances at it while Stiles cranes his neck to see it better. "Don't look at that."

"A'ight." He sits down again but moves right back to looking.

"Avert your eyes."

"Okay."

"Hey!"

"Just- it's just- I see- arrows pointing at pictures."

"Okay, okay, stop. Fine." The teens perk up a bit. "I found something. Mechanic and the couple who were murdered. They all had something in common."

"All three?" Y/n asks.

"Yeah. You know what I always say. One's an incident."

"Two's a coincidence." Y/n had been around them long enough to know this phrase.

"Three's a pattern." Stiles finishes.

"The mechanic, the husband, the wife- all the same age. All 24."

"Wait a minute, but what about Mr. Lahey? I mean, Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near 24."

"Which made me think that either A) Lahey's murder wasn't connected or B) the ages were a coincidence, until I found this, which would be C." He hands Stiles a folder and Y/n leans to look over his arm as he looks at it. "Did you know that Isaac Lahey had an older brother named Camden?"

"'Died in combat'." Y/n read from the file.

"But if he were alive today, take one guess as to how old he'd be."

"24." Stiles says. All three get up to look at the board closer. "Now what if same age means same class- I mean, did you think of that?"

"Yeah, yeah." Noah nods.

"You sure?" Y/n asks teasingly and he hesitates.

"Well, I would've. I mean, I- look I just got Lahey's file two hours ago."

Stiles looks at him in shock. "Two hours? Dad, people could be dying."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that. Thank you."

They look at the board again. "Same class." The Stilinski's look at each other and suddenly Y/n is dragged over to the desk where Noah puts some books and files down. They look through files and Stiles picks up a blue folder. "Okay, this is it. Class of 2006. They all went to Beacon Hills."

"Including Isaac's brother."

"All right, but so what if they all knew each other, you know?"

"Two of them were married." Y/n agrees.

"Maybe they all just hung out."

"Well, they could have had the same classes together. They could've..." Noah trails off when he sees something.

"What?"

"Same teacher." He moves a paper around for them to see that it shows Mr. Harris.

"Harris." Y/n grimaces. She really doesn't like the guy.

"They were all in his class?" Stiles asked.

"All four. And I don't know how Mr. Lahey fits in, but this- kids, this is definitely a pattern. All right, give me the 2006 yearbook. These names, we need faces." He starts calling someone as Y/n grabs the book.

"Which ones?" She asks.

"Everyone in that Chemistry class. If the killer's not done killing..."

"Then one of them's next." Stiles says.

"Yeah." Then he gets an answer on the phone. "Yeah, it's Stilinski." After a bit of her and Stiles finding the people in Harris' class she got a message from Scott saying he needed her at the clinic.

"I gotta go." She said once she looked at it. "I gotta help at the clinic for a bit tonight."

"That's fine. Thanks for the help, Y/n."

"No problem." She smiles at the Sheriff and then turns to Stiles. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

He nods. "Yeah."

"Great detective work, guys." She gathered her things and then gave Stiles a quick kiss. "Love ya!" She called as she dashed out the door.

Stiles looked after her wide-eyed for a moment with a little love sick smile before he looked back at his dad who was smirking at him. He realized that his dad just saw and heard that and he busied himself with the files again. "Shut up." But he still had a smile on his face.

...

Y/n got to the clinic just as Scott left the room to open the front door for someone. "Hey." She greeted Alan. "Meeting with Derek Hale?" He nodded. "This should be fun."

"What's he doing here?" She heard Scott ask.

"I need him." Derek answered.

"I don't trust him."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either." Isaac's voice said then.

"You know what? And Derek really doesn't care. Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?"

"That depends." Alan leans on the doorjamb with Y/n next to him. She nods her head in greeting to the newcomers. "Your friend, Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?" Derek said 'kill him' at the same time Scott and Y/n said 'save him'.

"Save him." Scott enunciates at Derek before looking back at Alan. "Save him." They all go into the back room and stand around the metal table, Y/n and Alan on one side, the werewolves on the other. Y/n places a tray of glass bottles filled with various things on the table.

Isaac goes to grab a bottle to look at it when Derek grabs his wrist and yanked it back. "Watch what you touch." He warns. While Alan looks through the bottles to find something hopefully useful Isaac leans his arms on the table.

"So what are you? Some kind of witch?" He asks Alan.

Y/n smirks at him. "That would be me." She flashes her eyes at him and he raises his brows a bit in surprise. "He's a veterinarian." She nods her head at Alan.

"Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin." Alan puts down a bottle.

"We're open to suggestions." Derek says.

"What about an effective offence?" Isaac offers.

"No, we already tried. I nearly took it's head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."

"Has it shown any weaknesses?" Alan asked.

"Well, one. It can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No. He's the captain of the swim team." Scott says.

"Essentially, you're trying to catch two people." He opens a drawer and grabs an item, closing the drawer and turning back to the group. "A puppet." He holds up a pendant depicting the horned god Cernunnos. "And a puppeteer." He puts the pendant on the table. "One killed the husband, but the other had to take care of the wife. Do we know why?"

"I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murdered. I think he couldn't let the same thing happen to someone else."

"How do you know it's not part of the rules? The kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too." Isaac theorises.

"Does that mean your father was a murderer?"

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was."

"Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right?" Alan asks Y/n and she nods. "What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him?"

Y/n let's out a small 'ah' as she catches on. "So what if something that affects the kanima also affects its master?" She grabs the bottle of mountain ash, dumping a bit in her hand, and pours it over the pendant making the ash form a perfect circle around it. Alan smiles at her.

"Meaning what?" Isaac asks.

"Meaning we can catch them." Scott answers. "Both of them."

...

Stiles pulls into the school parking lot and parks near where Matt is locking up his bike. "There's gotta be some other way to get a ticket, right?" Scott says as he, Stiles and Y/n climb out of the Jeep.

"It's a secret show. There's only one way, and it's a secret." Stiles says.

"Hey." Matt suddenly calls and the three turn to look at him. "Any of you know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?"

"Just forget about it. Nobody got hurt."

"I- I had a concussion."

"Well, nobody got seriously hurt."

"I was in the ER for six hours."

"Hey, do you wanna know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now." Stiles bends down and holds his hand an inch above the ground.

"Okay, settle down, tiger." Y/n makes him stand up straight and holds his hand, the action seeming to calm him a bit.

"Are you okay?" Scott asks Matt.

"Yeah, I'm fine now. So you didn't get any tickets last night either."

"Are they still selling?"

"Uh, no, but I managed to find two online. You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's going to be there." Matt walks away.

"I don't like him." Stiles says.

"Me either." Y/n makes a face towards Matt's direction.

"Hey, are you sure about this?" He asks Scott.

"Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job, so what do you think he's gonna do this time?"

"Be there to make sure it happens." The three walk into school.

...

"Katamine?" Scott questions. Alan holds a vial of the drug up for the teens to see.

"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage." He explains and sets the bottle and a large syringe on the table. "If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him down enough to buy you some time." He grabs the bottle of mountain ash. "This is some of what you'll use to create the barrier. This part is for you and Y/n, Stiles." He sets the bottle down. "Only you two."

"Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure." Stiles picks up the bottle. "Can we maybe find a slightly less pressure-filled task for me?"

"You'll be fine, Stiles." Y/n assures and plucks the bottle from his fingers. "This is from the mountain ash tree."

"Which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural." Alan adds. "This office is lined with ashwood, making it difficult for someone like Scott to cause me any trouble."

"How come Y/n is able to use it then if she's also supernatural?" Stiles asks curiously.

"Witches are like the bridge between the natural and supernatural world." She explains. "We're supernatural enough to not be human, but human enough to not be affected by certain things."

"Okay, so then what? We just spread this around the whole building and then either Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"

"They'll be trapped." Alan nods.

"Doesn't sound too hard." Scott tries to assure Stiles.

"Not all there is. Think of it like gunpowder. It's just a powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles."

"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that. And why aren't you saying this to her?"

"Because I already know how to use it."

"Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

"Force of will." Stiles nods, yet he still seems unsure.

"Here's another example." Y/n offers. "It's kinda like pixie dust, you need to believe it will work or else it won't."

"If-" Alan moves his head a bit to make sure Stiles is looking at him. "If this is going to work, Stiles, you have to believe it."

…

That night Stiles pulls up outside the secret party after picking up Scott and Y/n. They all go to the back and Stiles opens it up. "You okay?" Scott suddenly asks Stiles as he grabs a bag of mountain ash.

"Yeah, why?"

"You just didn't say anything the whole way here."

"No, I'm fine." Y/n could tell that was a lie. Something was bothering him, she could feel it. Something at home. She had been waiting for them to be alone to say anything about it. "Grab the other bag, please." Stiles asks her which she complies.

Scott suddenly takes a few steps away as he hears something. "Not here, not now." He says just before he rushes away.

"What- Scott?" Stiles called after him, it's to no avail.

"Let him go. We'll be fine." Y/n gives him a reasurring smile. He goes to start pouring the ash before she stops him. "Hey." He gave her a questioning look. "What happened earlier?"

"I don't know what-"

"Stiles." She sighed. "I know when you're lying. It's not just the upticks in your heart either, I just... I just know, okay? So, please, don't lie to me."

He sighed and looked away. He was so quiet she thought he wouldn't speak until he did. "My dad was fired." He finally said, although it was a near whisper. "And it's my fault."

She lightly shook her head and hugged him, he practically wrapped himself around her for comfort as the bags were left momentarily forgotten by their feet. "It wasn't your fault." She spoke just as quietly. She pulled away and made him look at her by putting a hand on his cheek. "It wasn't, okay?" At her insistence he nodded a bit. "It'll be okay. I promise." When he managed a small smile she gave him a soft kiss, nothing rushed or heated, but slow and promising she'll be there for him.

When they pulled away his smile was more genuine. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She suddenly grinned as she stepped away from him. "Now, let's catch some baddies." She hauled up the bag of ash and took his hand. "Come on." He grabbed his own bag and she led them to the other side of the building. "I'll go this way, you go that way and we meet in the middle."

He nods with a deep breath. "Sounds like a plan." And then they start pouring the ash, going opposite ways to meet back around at the Jeep. It took a bit but not as long as it would have with just one of them pouring it. Y/n got back around before Stiles had. She figured he was going fast but slowish to make sure he poured it well enough. Y/n caught the last handful of ash in her hand and tossed it forward, finishing her last twenty feet of her half.

She was leaning against the Jeep, waiting for Stiles and keeping an eye out for whoever was creating that gunfire. She had a feeling it was Hunters, but the wolves seemed to be holding their own for now. She heard shuffling and turned to find Stiles as he caught his last handful of ash. "Oh, no." He whined. "What are we gonna do?" He immediatly started going into panic mode. "Y/n, I don't know what to do. There's like 50 feet of ash left and I'm hearing gunfire and werewolves-"

"Stiles, calm down. It's okay."

"How is this okay, Y/n? I've got a handful of magic fairy dust left and it's not enough. It's not enough."

"Stiles!" She snapped once she was in front of him. "It's enough. You have to believe." She spoke more softly. "Remember what Alan said? Just picture it. Believe and picture it working."

"I don't know-"

"Believe in me." She took his hands in hers, carefully curling her hand over the one holding the ash while intertwining the other. "If you can't fully believe in this, then believe in me. I know it will work. Trust me. Picture it." His eyes darted over her shoulder to a bumper sticker with a quote. Imagination is more important than knowledge - Einstein. He looked into her eyes, shining with determination and faith. He trusted her with anything and he believed in her unconditionally. If she believed that the ash was enough, then it was enough.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Just- just imagine." She nodded and took a step back, taking more when he followed. He kept his focus on her eyes, not paying attention to the slow trickle of mountain ash slipping though their fingers until their hands were open and empty. He looked down, half expecting the line to still be incomplete. When he saw it was indeed intact he laughed in excitement. "Yes!" He threw his hands up while Y/n smiled at him. He suddenly jumped onto the back of a car only to hop right back off when the alarm started going off.

Y/n rolled her eyes with a head shake. Her eyes flashed and she snapped her fingers, the car stopped blaring and Stiles continued his happy dance. "Told you."

"You are amazing." He quickly kissed her, making her eyes widen in surpise while he cheered some more.

She shook her head fondly with a smile before grabbing his hand. "Okay, that's enough celebrating. We still have someone to deal with." They made their way to the small area where they agreed to take Jackson when they got him.

Erica and Isaac anxiously watched over Jackson when the door opened. Stiles immediatly putting his hands up when Erica almost lunged at him. "No, no, no! Just us, it's just us." Y/n closed the door behind her and then looked at Jackson. He was seemingly passed out, slumped in a fold out chair.

"Is he okay?" Y/n asked.

"Well..." Isaac went over to him. "Let's find out." He pulled out his claws and went to swipe at Jackson.

"Isaac, wait-" Y/n tried to warn, when suddenly his arm was caught. He grunted in pain and fell to his knee when Jackson's grip was too strong. He managed to pull his arm free and retreat back to the group.

"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay?" Stiles ordered. Erica nodded while Isaac was still in pain.

"Give me your arm." Y/n held her hand out expectantly. Isaac looked up at her warily. When she gave him a look to urge him forward he hesitantly held his arm out for her. She gently held his hand and carefully held the other over where he was injured, her eyes glowing as she encouraged his healing and healed a bit of it herself so he was in less pain.

"Thanks." He said when she let him go.

"No problem."

"I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out."

"Yeah, well, apparently this is all we're going to get." Stiles said. "So let's just hope that whoever's controling him decided to show up tonight."

Jackson's eyes opened. He didn't look at any of them, just stared into space. "I'm here." He spoke although it wasn't his voice. It was distorted and sounded like more than one person was speaking. "I'm right here with you."

Y/n took a step forward, but Stiles grabbed her wrist and gave her a worried look. She nodded in reasurance and he let her go. She crouched down in front of Jackson, keeping a safe distance. "Jackson, is that you?"

"Us. We're all here."

She quirked a brow, glancing at the three behind her. "Are you the one killing people?"

"We're the ones killing murderers."

"So all the people you've killed so far-"

"Deserved it."

"We got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers."

"Anything can break if enough pressure's applied."

"That can lead to unforseen consequences most often than not. Are all the people you're killing murderers then?"

"All. Each. Every one."

"Who did they murder?"

"Me."

"What?"

"They murdered me." Erica and Isaac got anxious as Jackson's eyes shifted to his kanima ones. "They murdered me."

"Y/n, get back here." Stiles asked when Jackson's claws came out. She stood and backed up to him. "Okay, all right. More ketamine. The man needs ketamine. Come on!"

"We don't have any more." Isaac held up the empty bottle.

"You used it all?" Y/n asked incredulously. Erica anxiously tapped Y/n's arm and they looked over to see Jackson standing up. Y/n would have tried compelling him back to sleep if someone else hadn't already had control of his mind right then. Jackson screeched at them, half shifted. "Okay, out, out! Everybody out!"

The four rushed out of the room and piled against the door to hold it closed. "Okay, find something to move in front of the door." Stiles instructed. Another screech rang out and a second later the fully shifted kanima broke through the wall and ran away.

"Well, shit."

Stiles and Y/n go back out to the Jeep in the flow of people leaving the party. They step over the line as Derek comes up to them. "Hey, um, so we kind of lost Jackson inside, but it's-" Stiles cuts himself off when Erica and Isaac come out, but they pause when they sense something. Isaac crouches down to look at the ash line, glancing up at Erica. The two look nervous and confused because they can't cross. They haven't experienced mountain ash before. "Oh, my God. It's working! Oh, this is- we did something." He brags to Derek.

Y/n's eyes widen when she and Derek hear Scott's sudden roar. "Scott." She takes off and Stiles looks after her confused.

"What? Where are you-"

"Break it." Derek orders quickly.

"What? No way."

"Scott's dying!"

"Okay, what? How do you know that? Is that why Y/n-"

"Yes! We just know! Break it!"

Stiles drops to his knees and waves his hands down, creating a rush of air that dispersed the ash and broke the line. Derek rushed after Y/n as soon as he could. He caught up to her just as she went into a room. She spotted Scott on the ground as soon as she went in and darted to his side, dropping to her knees beside him. Derek was on her tail but paused just behind her, the wolfsbane in the air having an effect on him. Victoria came from the shadows and stabbed Derek in the back. He groans in pain and turns around, catching her arm before she could stab him again.

Y/n looked up in fear and without thinking she threw her hand up, her eyes flashing as she forced the knife from the woman's hands. Victoria stumbled from the sudden action. She recovered as Derek went for her. They struggled and ended up by the doors where the strobing lights filtered in. Derek growled and bit her in defense before she managed to toss him aside. She ran before he got up. When he saw the Hunter was gone he quickly went to help Y/n carry Scott out of that room.

…

Scott was layed out on the metal table in the backroom of the clinic. Alan had just finished helping the werewolves with Y/n's assistance. Derek sat in a chair against the wall, watching them. Alan lightly petted Scott's head in reasurance. The teen would be fine. "Thank you." Derek said. Y/n looked up at him and smiled.

Alan walked out into the front of the clinic, turning at the sound of a familiar voice. "I can't decide if l admire your sentimentality or despise it." Ms. Marin Morell sat in one of the waiting chairs and looked at him.

"If I want your opinion, I'll make an appointment with the guidance office."

"From the state of things, I think you could use a little guidance. Are you really going to leave all of this up to a couple of kids?"

"They're more capable than you think."

She looked away in thought. "And are you going to tell them what's coming?"

He glanced towards the back room. "They've got enough to worry about."

Y/n sits against the wall of the clinic, resting a bit as she watches over Scott, Derek seemingly doing the same as he rests his head against the wall with his eyes closed. She closes her eyes and copies Derek's position, trying to get some type of rest. It doesn't seem like she'll get it, however. She knows he's there without even opening her eyes.

Peter sits against the wall next to her. "You know, you could do so much more. If you practiced a bit of blood magic you'd be so much more confident in your abilities. You'd be a force to be reckoned with."

"I'm not ready." She muttered.

"You keep saying that, but are you really not ready? Or are you just too scared to try?"

She snapped her head to the side, brows furrowing as she looked towards him, he was already gone. She couldn't help but think of what he said.

Was she scared to try?

Ch.21

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sliding Into Home ~ Oh Captain! My Captain! 

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, S~M~U~T!!, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by me

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: The One With The World Series

Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist

The bus ride from Camden Yards to the hotel is a quiet one. Frank sat next to Johnny, who was almost deathly still. He never said a word as he walked off, the Boston players running onto the field. The locker room was quiet, showers and dressing done without a word to each other. They gathered their belongings, made sure the uniforms were placed in the bins for the support staff to clean and walked onto the bus.  

The Dodgers manager, Dave Roberts, walked to the front after the team had pulled into the hotel. “Men, we’ll have a debrief in the morning. This is just how the game goes. I don’t blame anyone, and you shouldn’t either. They just had magic tonight.  Get some sleep. We’ll meet at 9 AM and the flight is at noon.”  

Dave patted each player as they exited.  Their families were waiting for them, lined in their gear, solemn and quiet.  Frank sees Abby and Katie standing together, Mary in Scott’s arms, Marco wrapped around Susie. Frank blocks Johnny’s exit, allowing the rest of the team to exit.  “You know it wasn’t your fault.”  

“I know.”  

“Do you? Torch, Turner is a beast at bat. There was a 50/50 chance he was going to connect. It could have been anyone.”  

“But it was me. I let the team down, the city down, fuck, even my girlfriend and family.”  

“Johnny, no one is going to see it that way.”  

Johnny leaned back against his seat. “I knew going for my heater was a bad idea. But he missed it the first time. “ 

“You can’t beat yourself up with what ifs. Let’s get you to your girl and she can give you sympathy sex. It's better than victory sex sometimes.” Frank got up and got off the bus.  

“Hey Frank,” he turned back to Johnny. “Thanks.”  

“It’s what best friends are for.” Frank climbed down and Mary immediately ran into his arms. He held her tight as he felt her cry a little bit. “You ok Nugget?” 

Mary leaned back. “Shouldn't I be asking you that?” 

Frank shrugged.  “Probably but I think he needs this hug more than me.” He looked back at Johnny who was just now getting off the bus.  Mary ran to him and jumped up for a hug. Johnny’s reaction time was quick as he dropped his bag in time to catch her.  Frank walked over to Abby and Katie.  

“Is he ok?” Katie’s lower lip trembled.  

“He’ll be ok. Just needs some time and a few hugs.” Frank kissed her cheek. “Take care of him.”  

She nodded and walked over to Johnny and Mary.  Frank turned back to his wife. “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring the trophy home like i promised.”  

Abby shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to make it up to me another way.”  She reached up on her tiptoes. “I am so unbelievably proud of you Frank Adler. You played your best and that’s all that matters.” She kissed him softly as he wrapped his arms around her.  

“Can I take you to bed Cricket? Lose myself inside you?” 

She gave him a soft smile. “Always Frankie.”  

After greeting everyone else and heading up to the rooms, Frank watched his wife get ready for bed.  She carefully brushed out her hair and removed her jewelry before taking off the jersey with his name on the back. She stripped out of the leggings and was just in her bra and panties.  He could see that she was studying herself in the mirror when Frank saw it.  He got up and walked behind her.  “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Tell you what?” She looked back at him confused.  

“Oh sweetheart.”  He placed his warm hands around her middle. Framing the slight swell of her belly. “Here is our baby.”  

Abby stared at the mirror. The belly wasn’t there this morning. “It’s our baby.”  

“I don’t care that I lost. I won everything I ever wanted.” He moved her hair to the side so he could kiss her neck. He let his fingers skate over his sensitive skin as he kissed and licked the spot behind her ear. “You are the most beautiful woman. Strong and amazing, growing my baby.” He dipped his hand inside her panties, eliciting a moan from his wife. “Shh, Cricket. Hmm, so wet love.”  

“Frankie, please don’t tease,” Abby whimpered.  

He let his finger slip in and moved slowly back and forth, listening to his wife mewl at the sensations. “Do you still love me even if I didn’t win?” 

“Of course...shit... fuck,” Abby stuttered as Frank added another finger. She gripped his forearms to keep from falling.  He was wrecking her, a little at a time.  

“C’mon Cricket, use your words,” Frank gently taunted. “Be a good girl for me.”  

“I love you, Frankie,” she breathed out.  “So proud of you making it this far.”  

“Good girl,” he whispered in her ear as he pressed down on her sensitive clit. Abby almost doubled over but Frank held her to his chest.  

“Frankie, please,” she begged. He scooped her up and placed her on the bed.  He undid the bra and threw it across the room.  He pulled down her panties and held them to his nose, inhaling the scent.  Abby almost cummed at the motion and let out a whimper.  

“What should it be Cricket? Should I taste you first or should I just fuck you until you can’t walk anymore?” Frank slotted in between her legs, his erection straining in his boxer briefs.  

“I... I...” 

“Ok then,” Frank sighed. He stood up and removed his boxers, his cock bobbing up. “Dealer’s choice it is.” He climbs next to Abby and turned her to the side.  He lifted her leg to curl around his hip to open her. “I don’t want to hurt Peanut, but I also don’t want to take you hard Cricket,” he told her gently. He gripped his cock and teased between her legs, notching at her clit.  

“Frankie, I can’t... please.”  

“Anything for you Cricket.”  He slid slowly, stretching her open slowly.  From this angle, she could feel everything and her back bowed. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her close. “Talk to me Cricket.”  

“So deep Frankie, I can feel you everywhere.”  

“God, you feel so good Cricket. My beautiful girl.” He rocked his hips, sliding in and out.  He took his time, skating his fingers over her skin, gently pinching her nipples. Her breathing changed and he knew she was getting close.  “Ready to come for me Cricket?” She nodded against his chest. “Come baby, you know that my good girl always goes first.”  

Frank lowered a hand to her clit and rubbed gently.  The sensations were like lighting up her body. 

“Frankie,” she cried as her head tossed back onto his chest and the world imploded, blinding her in white light.  

‘Fuck Cricket, so tight, so good, fuck,’ as he followed her into space, losing himself in the stars he sees in his eyes. He slowed, and stopped, staying inside her.  He could feel water land on his arm. ‘Cricket?’ 

‘I’m sorry, Frankie. I just... I wish you had won and,’ she sucked in a breath, ‘and you were happy and then we did this and it feels so good and I don’t deserve you and...” 

“Whoa, baby, stop.” Frank gently slipped out and turned Abby to face him. “Cricket, its one World Series. Hopefully there will be others.” He wiped the tears falling. “My Cricket, the hormones getting to you?” She nodded and he chuckled. “Everything is going to be ok.  Sleep sweetheart.” He adjusted her so she slept on his chest.  He loved that she was so passionate about his career. But now is time for him to focus on her and Peanut.  

Six weeks later... 

Frank ran into the clinic, running late from an endorsement meeting.  “Hi, sorry, I’m looking for Abigail Adler?” 

“We just took her back. Follow me,” a nurse said, buzzing him through the door. Frank pulled off his coat, the beginning of December bringing a cold front in. The nurse knocked and waited for acknowledgement before opening the door. Sitting on the exam table was a very unhappy, pregnant Abby with her arms crossed.  

“Cricket, I am so sorry.” Frank went to her side. “The meeting ran long and then I got caught in the school traffic and I'm sorry.”  

“I told you I could have rescheduled to avoid this, Frankie." Abby huffed as she turned her head away from him.  

“I know Cricket. But you were so excited to see the baby and find out the gender and everything and I didn’t want you to miss it.” Frank uses his finger to make Abby look at him. “I’m sorry.”  

“Are you excited?” she asked in a small voice 

“Are you kidding?” Frank kissed her nose. “Steve said I was giving off excited vibrations today and it was driving him nuts.”  

“Hello, hello,” the doctor came in. “Mr. And Dr. Adler, nice to see you again.”  

“Hey Dr. Montgomery,” Frank said. “How’s it going?” 

“Busy, as always but I know we are excited today to see, what was it you called your baby again Frank?” 

“Look, that is not my best moment,” Frank said. “We call baby Peanut now.”  

Dr. Montgomery and Abby laughed as Frank blushed slightly. “Well, let’s take a look at Peanut.  Abby, shirt under your breast and pants slightly down.  This will be cold.”  She squirted some gel and grabbed the wand.  “Do we want to know the gender?” 

“We do. We have our last team dinner of the year tonight,” Frank said. Gonna do a gender reveal.” 

“Sounds fun.  Is someone planning the surprise for you?” 

“Yeah, Susie and Katie are waiting for us to hand it over,” Abby explained.  

“Alright so no pronouns.” Dr. Montgomery moved the wand around.  “Well, here is Peanut,” she said. “Just taking some measurements but they are looking perfect.  Right size and weight for 21 weeks.  Here is their head and it looks like they are sucking on a thumb.”  

Frank and Abby grinned at each other as Dr. Montgomery flipped on the audio.  Their baby’s heart beat was loud and rapid.  “Whoa,” Frank said. “I’m still not used to that. It's so fast.”  

“Yeah, in the womb, the baby's heart is pumping so fast because the blood circulates quickly,” Dr. Montgomery explains. “But everything looks good. Abby, your weight is good, and your levels are great. I’ll print some pictures for you and put the gender into an envelope.” She handed a towel to Abby.  “I want to see you in four weeks.” 

“Thanks Doc,” Frank said.  

“I was sorry to see you lose the World Series Frank, but I know, next year is our year.”  She patted his back.  “See you guys later.”  

Frank took Abby’s hand, and they picked up the envelope and pictures.  “Peanut is cute, just like their mama.”  

“Shut up Frankie,” she replied with a smile. “Ready for the dinner?” 

“Yeah, Phelps and Roberts said they have a couple of year end announcements and then just the dinner.”  

“Well, I have to head back to the office,” Abby said.  “I’ll see you at home?” 

“Yeah, Nugget and I are gonna work on the nursery. Scott said they delivered the crib and dresser.”  

“What color?” 

“What part of surprise did you not understand Cricket?” A couple of weeks after the season ended, Frank asked Abby if he could decorate and set up the nursery.  He had promised that it would be gender neutral.  

Abby pouted. “Fine. I love you.”  

“Love you too Cricket.”  

A couple of hours later, Frank was getting Mary ready to go when he called up the stairs. “Cricket! We’re gonna be late!” 

“Patience is a virtue,” she called back down.  

“Not right now, it isn’t.”  

“Alright, alright!”  She walked down the stairs and Frank stopped. You know that saying that women glow when they are pregnant? Frank understood that saying now. Abby glowed as she walked toward in a cream colored sweater dress and brown boots.  Her bump was on display, her hair was in her curls and just held back with a cream headband.  

“Wow,” Frank breathed. “Cricket, you look beautiful.” 

Abby blushed. “Thanks Frankie.” He helped her into her coat, and they headed to the restaurant.  

The dinner was fun, the last time the team would together until spring training.  Some may leave and some retire.  As desert was being prepared, Todd Phelps and Dave Roberts stood in the middle of the room. It falls silent as Todd raises his hand.  

“Alright team, it was a heartbreaking end to the season.  But it has been one of the best seasons the Dodgers have ever had.”  Applause breaks out around the room. “Not only did we have two Golden Glove winners in Storm and Betts, we also have our league MVP and golden Glove winner, Frank Adler.” More applause and cheers for Frank, who flushed from the attention.  

“We are so proud of this team,” Dave continued.  “We know that there may be some changes that could happen.  But there are a couple of things we are certain off, our captains for next year. We have four men that we are bestowing this honor to. Mookie Betts, Will Smith, Johnny Storm and Frank Adler.”  

Frank sat stunned as Mary jumped in his lap and Abby kissed his cheek. Johnny looked blankly as Katie cheered and hugged him.  

“Johnny,” Dave says, “I know you think the loss was your fault, but it wasn’t.  Management does not blame you, the team doesn’t blame you. You have been a professional, sitting through media, taking blame that wasn’t yours. That’s the kind of leadership we are looking for in our organization and the perfect example we want to set.”  

The team cheered and congratulated their new captains as Katie and Susie set up the gender reveal. Katie whistled to get everyone’s attention again.  “We have one more surprise to finish. Mr. And Mrs. Alder, Miss Mary, we need you up here.”  The family moved to the front. An elaborate box was set up with a string to open it.  “On the count of three, pull the string and we’ll find out if we a boy or a girl joining our Dodger family.  Ready?” 

The whole room joined the count down. 

“THREE!” 

“TWO!” 

“ONE!” 

Oh, you thought I wouldn't give one more cliffhanger?  See you for the finale! 

NEXT

Taglist

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@slutforchrisjamalevans

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@before-we-get-started

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@peaceinourtime82

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day (green tea!) Welcome to the weekend!

Wow! Here we are again: Friday! Where did that week go? No, seriously, where did that week go?

First of all, many thanks to everyone that got involved with Throwback Thursday on my page. Yesterday’s word was HISTORY. Again, another emotive word! It has both good and bad connotations for people. All of those photos on Tuesday made everybody very nostalgic. Whenever I pass The Electric Ballroom, I remember Paul ‘Trouble’ Anderson playing ‘The Return Of The Magnificent Seven’ by The Clash. Over those huge speakers, that big old bass line absolutely blew my mind!

Was it hot enough for you yesterday? 30 plus degrees for the fourth day in a row! I spoke to one of my students in Los Angeles and he was gutted! “It’s only 24 degrees where I am!”

Yes, there is publicity saying I’ll be on stage at the Camden Music Festival on Saturday at 1.00 p.m. but the person that created that schedule was clearly on the cooking sherry! Unless Gordon can find me a new slot – apologies – I won’t be coming to Camden! You’ll get your Lindsay hug and your selfie some other day.

Popped into Tesco’s yesterday’s and found this woman with her arms full of vegetables. Something was about to drop on the ground. “Would you like a basket?” I said to her, giving her my basket. “You’re such a gentleman!” she said. “Does your wife tell you that?” “Yes,” I replied, but I didn’t elaborate! “If my husband was here,” she added, “he would’ve done that!” What is ‘being a gentleman’? And is it important to women? Whenever people come into the Mi-Soul studio, I always offer and then make them a cuppa, and they always remember that act of courtesy! Seems pretty normal behaviour to me! I still open and hold doors open for women. Seems pretty normal behaviour to me. Other men, maybe not? It reminds me of that classic meme of a brief social media exchange. A woman asks, “Do men still open car doors?” And, underneath it, some smart alec has replied, “How do you think we get inside?”

Really hope you can join me tomorrow at 1.00 p.m. for ‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’: The Letter Q. We’re going to Jamaica for a wedding on September 13th, so I’ll miss one radio show (September 16th) but I’ll be back in time for the start of The Letter R on September 23rd.

The Trouble has bought me some holiday clothing. I tried it on yesterday. Man, I look good! “I’m going to look better than you!” I said. She chuckled to herself. “Sure, baby!” However, I know better! I really look good! Testament to her good taste, though.

Have a fabulous and funky Friday! I love you all. You’re probably thinking, “You don’t even know me!” but, if people can hate for no reason, why can’t I love?

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Polly's Boys-Chapter 15

GRAY AREA

______________________________________________________________

______________GRAY AREA____________

*Don't interact if under 18! *Gangsters and sex***

Devlin and David sat at a little table overlooking the bustling snow club. It was so loud they had to yell over the music and talk. The club was packed partially due to the entertainment tonight. 

David had asked Winter to sing much to her excitement. She usually complained that she didn't feel like he or Peggy liked her. It wasn’t the case. Winter was so young compared to him and Peggy who’d had lived several times over already. 

Winter Gray was just starting out. The bubbly little innocent bride to his hardened gangster brother was just inexperienced. Nothing more or less. 

Devlin didn't care if they did like her, it was more time for him but he knew it was important to his wife to have family connections. Especially since her own high society family shunned her. 

“ So your contact, the “ baker” in Camden Town, is working with Thomas now.” David sighed and rubbed his face. He didn’t have a ton of suppliers. Devlin had been one but it was through his contacts. He was trying to keep the Shelbys out of business. 

“Keep your enemies close and your family closer.” Devlin smirked at his twin brother. Sometimes he didn’t understand what David's goal truly was. Morality or money. You couldn’t have both in the 1920’s. 

“ That's not the saying Dev.” David was back to trying to scold his, a few minutes younger, brother. Devlin sat back in the booth and outstretched his arms, his sleeves riding up showing his tattooed arms. 

Several girls giggled and gazed at him. He rolled his eyes and laughed. These city girls were getting more and more wild as the days went on. He was glad he’d gotten to Winter before she could get out and go wild. 

“That should be the saying though, shouldn’t it? What do you think about Michael?” Devlin had a few idea’s brewing about his younger brother. He wanted to see what the “elder” man had thought. 

“ Too early to tell.” David dismissed him as he collected a head count for the club tonight. He might have to ask Winter back soon. Wow. 

“ Not for me. He is really aware of the finer things in life. Have you noticed how he checks out our shoes, clothes cars, ect..?” Devlin and David both had very nice lifestyles. One came by it more honestly than the other. Both men were truthful and genuine on what they believed in life and why. 

“ So we like nice things? So what?” David sat back and shook his head.

“I’m going to have to invite your wife back soon. I’ve never had it packed in here. It’s nice to talk to you too.” Devlin shook his head. It was nice, but the only reason they were getting along was because they had a united concern. 

“ No, we do like nice things but we worked from the bottom down and earned it, but Michael…Michael covets nice things. He's greedy. If Tommy gets a hold of him first…” Devlin knew he was right to be concerned about this. Something was off with Tommy and his business dealing. Devlin wouldn’t screw over his family, unless they hurt David and his, Winter or his mother. Tommy, well he seemed like he’d sacrifice everyone but himself. 

“ Ma would rather he be with us. You're worried about nothing Dev, seriously.” David stood and motioned over his man. He gave him the numbers and whispered something to him. 

Devlin stood up and walked over to the railing by their table. Winter was singing some sweet little sexy love song dressed like a kitty cat showgirl. He grinned. She was wearing that tonight for him in the sanctity of his bedroom. She was his little black cat. 

David came and stood by his brother smiling at Peggy and waving. 

Devlin looked him up and down in his khaki suit. He was too good for London. To short -sighted to survive here on just his fancy education. 

“ No David, think. We're still 3 hours away and independent. If Michael lives and works in Birmingham…”  Devlin refused to let this go. His gut was screaming, the same gut that had kept him alive during the war. 

“Then he's closer to her.Mom won’t let him go astray. She really wants him to be a straight accountant in the legal side of the business.” David had information Dev didn’t even know. Of course, his mum knew he’d never be or go straight. Why lie about it. 

“ Exactly. That's why it won't work David, not for Michael. It's a matter of time. Mark my words!” Devlin knew he wasn’t one to preach. Michael still had promise though. His mum needed one kid safe. 

“ London has more money and opportunities. Other than mum, what does Birmingham offer legally Dev? He’ll get bored.” David still wasn’t getting it. Not after that statement David was so dense it hurt sometimes. He wished it hurt David as much as it did him when he couldn’t see the obvious. 

“ Exactly what I'm trying to say! Finally, you got it Genius! Why do you think Tommy is moving in? He can't expand legally anymore in Birmingham!” Devlin waited until the realization finally sunk into David's now concerned face. 

“ What are you suggesting we do then? Offer Michael some work here? What about mum? You said it yourself. It’s still over a three hour drive. My house is full.” David scowled. He hated when things didn’t go smoothly. 

“ We can't let Michael fall into Shelby hands…period.” DEvlin said. He honestly was just glad he’d finally lead the braindead horse to water. Now he hoped David would “drink.” 

“ What's the plan?” David bit. Devlin gave his brother the most devilish grin….oh, did he have a plan. 

______________________________________________________________

[mywitheredloveslastforever]

Rosemary and Laura were enjoying themselves on a late afternoon out in Camden. They'd just come back from an MP, former Eton choir boy, who'd wanted his garden to be filled with statues of the David of Michelangelo. His wife looked on awkwardly. We didn't want to break the news to her, and we don't believe we needed to. He'd asked poor Rosemary about whether his purse fit with the leather on his outdoor chairs, and how it would coordinate with the roses. We told him that with the right soil, any colour will spark against these healthy additions to his admittedly very well kept garden. We'd advised him on the purple roses and rhododendron he wanted in his garden, and had spent the entire day digging around, investigating the ground, and Rosemary had gone to the garden centre, during peak hours. At the end of the day they sat down a terrace, and sighed in relief. Rosemary looked at Laura, and for a moment she smiled, then shook her head. The terrace seemed a bit empty, but there was another woman sitting there, with her back towards us, and a huge sleeping poodle besides her. She was wearing this enormous white straw hat, with a black ribbon. She wore a pantsuit with refined striped, and judging from her hands, she seemed about our age. What a character, Laura thought. They ordered a coffee and a wine and enjoyed the Sun, as they threw glances at the plans for their garden, but had to stop each other from looking. "Rosemary, stop it. We've been working on it since 7 o'clock this morning, you deserve a break. It is on me, you've done absolutely terrific. You'll get to pay petrol though, getting through traffic was awful, and I think I had two hippie climate activists look at your car in disgust." The waiter came with the drinks they'd ordered, and the women thanked him.

"Children, how can they not appreciate such beauty?"

"Tasteless, of course, but I need some emotional compensation now. It almost felt personal."

"They must not have seen the driver, then they would've known there was an expert working."

"Well, I've gotten better at driving your car. I suppose that was a gift on its own, getting to drive your baby through London. After all of these years, you're really starting to trust me." Laura winked at Rosemary.

"Oh come on!" Rosemary laughed. "I trusted you since day one." She laughed so hard she spilled a bit on her blouse. "Bloody- Well, first time in a while we've seen a red spattered blouse and it being wine instead of blood. I'm going to fetch a tissue."

Rosemary stood up and the dog reacted, she waved at the dog as its owner looked up to look her straight in the eyes. "Well, Bernie, look at that friendly wo- Rosemary?"

Rosemary turned pale. The woman's expression turned from a friendly expression to what Laura could only describe as a haughty one. "Clare!" She said. "How have you been? I haven't seen you in ages! You look great. Love the hat, very stylish. And what a lovely dog you've got there." She seemed to want to approach it friendly, an emotion Laura not seen combined with such a nervousness in her before. She was usually so confident when meeting old friends, and Rosemary seemed to have many of those.

"Rosemary, Rosemary. That out of all people you must be the one I encounter on my holiday with my husband."

"What a coincidence." Rosemary said, awkwardly looking at the stain on her blouse.

"Well, look who's only gotten poutier and less subtle over the years! You've finally got the looks to match your attitude." The mystery woman called Clare said as she lowered her sunglasses. Laura felt that his was not going to be a very joyful rendezvous. Rosemary sat back down, trying to hide the stain, as Laura shoved her tissue underneath the table, feeling Rosemary grip over it, briefly touching her hand. Like there wasn't enough tension in the air already, Laura thought. "I hear you scissor bushes now. Not a far stretch from whatever you used to get up to down in Bristol. Trying to seem more understated and common with your car choice, I see." She snickered as she sipped her wine and gestured at the car that she'd probably seen Laura get out of. "See this ring? My husband, Paul, got it for me on our twentieth wedding anniversary. My lovely son Marcus even got my old ring all polished up for me, so now I wear two. Did you have any children, Rose?"

Rosemary turned red, her eyes narrowed as she pointed at the lady. "You... You..." Laura noticed that the hand she'd had on her mouth was now resting on Rosemary's lap, which she quickly retracted when Rosemary turned around. After all, that would've been awkward, had her hand been on her- Well, not as awkward as this whole ordeal. Who is this woman? Rosemary looked at Laura briefly, and there seemed to be an air of relief, but also a sense of inhibition. She breathed in hastily, and tried to put on her lecturer voice, putting her glasses on top of her head as she put on a fake smile. The fact that she was trying to look composed but was still shaking, didn't really help her case, Laura thought, but in that moment she really admired Rosemary's strength more. "It surprises me, Clare, that you've been able to apply your bush skills on trees so well that your man still spoils you after twenty years. Hopefully this has been a more successful experiment, and you've not just turned into the box filled with decorations he can use to make himself look brighter every appearance. I heard he's done well for himself, sometimes I can almost see him wanting to thank you. But usually he looks like he just needs to." Oof. Okay, so Laura thought, these women definitely don't like each other. At all. Stark observation, Laura, she thought to herself. But what is all this talk about bushes and trees? And what on Earth could it have been that has made a woman like Rosemary, who can be very fiery, very feisty, but doesn't appear resentful at all, still so angry at this woman I have never seen before, in all those years we've spent practically attached to the hip? Briefly she started reminiscing about the joy that has brought her, but then she composed herself, she had to stay locked in. Maybe interfere. But first, and it happened before she really grasped it, the following words came out of her mouth: "Well then, tea's done. What is going on here?"

Clare looked her up and down. "I could ask you the same, Rosemary. You're not still in that phase of your life are you? Your taste is like a supermarket wine, Rosemary, and you always drink it alone."

Rosemary stood up, still pointing her finger: "Don't you dare talk about Laura like that! She is more sophisticated, lovely, beautiful, and sensual than you ever were or even I ever will be. And bitch, don't even try to compare her to any less than the finest champagne. And at least I like to only drink from one glass at a time, those rumours existed far beyond me, out of those five years we were only together for one. Yes, I don't like going back to Bristol, yes, I should've locked the doors, yes, I should have probably told you it was irresponsible to want to get it down the shed of a church. Yes, I am sorry that twenty years down the line it is still awkward for us to go back. But the reason they heard us is because you were enjoying yourself and you look like you've not had any other positive emotion other than smugness on your face since the day I last saw you." Clare gasped.

Apparently, Clare had the most elaborately toilet visiting husband ever, because when he finally came back from inside, he asked "Babybell blue Clary of mine, what is the matter? Who are these people?"

Laura leaned in, starting to get it: "Seems like you are not too fast for the first time in your life, Mr. Clare!" Laura put the money on the table as she waved to the waiter. "The view was absolutely lovely, sir, but I am afraid we must go. Thank you, great coffee, by the way. Lovely spot. Would absolutely come back. Chairs were great." She walked up to Rosemary, grabbed her by the arm, and in her angry state, made sure she did not forget her purse and her coat. "Here."

"Lesbians!" Clare yelled in a last attempt of hurt.

"AND HOW WOULD YOU KNOW, MEAN COW?" Laura yelled back. "Bugger off!"

They got in the car, Laura was allowed to drive again, because no way was she going to let Rosemary drive in this state. They were two blocks away from the incident, when she noticed that Rosemary was crying. She shook her head. "Laura, you know. That time was awful for the both of us. I know what just went down was horrid, but it really was bad back then. You could feel it in the air, that people just knew. Oh I was so stubborn, there was a guy that liked her and I thought, if I loved her enough, made love to her enough, we could see it through. I went to Oxford eventually, she went to Brighton University, ironically, and we never saw each other again. It was, Laura, it was really bad. It surprised me myself that I went there to teach, and it surprised me even more that I went to teach her son for a bit. He's not a bad kid, Laura. We were teens, Laura, just teens. It is- But I know she hated me for going back there. She must've. There was no love behind her eyes just then. Those streets, Laura, we felt eyes on our backs wherever we went. It traumatized us both. I'm sorry you had to see me this way."

"Rosemary, what I saw were two hurt women. Back when I was in the force, I'd seen women who'd done much worse to each other over love. This was pretty brutal already, I must admit, and I'd never been that close up with the action, usually dealt with the filing of complaints afterwards, but you defended yourself. You are so strong, Rosemary, and I could tell you didn't want this to happen. Here." She pulled a licorice package out of her purse. "Different flavours. Go on."

"Too soon!" Rosemary laughed as she cried.

"What? The different flavours bit?" Laura laughed along with her.

"Maybe." Rosemary grabbed the bag from Laura's hand and put one in her mouth. She started laughing again. "But I really could not insult her dog. That dog looked adorable."

Laura teased her: "You like posh dogs?"

Rosemary teased herself back, it seemed. "Can't change your colours. I feel so... Awkward, Laura. I don't usually feel this way. I've not felt this way in a long time, not since I met you."

"What you have to feel awkward about? Except for maybe that wine stain, but I'm sure we'll find a solution for that."

"I feel awkward about... Well, you must've noticed that Clare was a woman."

"I only saw a bitch most of the time." Laura said louder than she intended, but probably the right amount of loud.

"Laura!" She bumped into Laura's shoulder. "Shush it. No. I mean it, seriously."

"Yeah, Clare's a woman."

"I don't feel bad about having felt that way for a woman, Laura." Rosemary looked straight at her and Laura felt butterflies, she even caught herself having tingling fingers from the nerves she suddenly felt.

"And I hope you never will again." Laura said as she put her hand on hers. "You are my best friend, and I will never forgive myself if I am something that makes you less likely to accept yourself. But then what does make you feel bad, or awkward?"

"I never told you before. It wasn't anything deliberate, I think. Oh Laura, I don't even know for sure. I don't know why I've kept it a secret, I don't know why I didn't just tell you when I kept telling myself that this part of me doesn't matter, when we know so much about each another."

"It matters to me as a part of you, Rosemary, and I- Well, you know I think you are fabulous indeed. Why would this change anything?" Laura sighed and thought to herself, maybe this does change things. Not in the way she views Rosemary, but maybe in the way she dares to view herself with Rosemary.

Rosemary said: "So that officer was sort of right."

"About us?" Laura said.

"No silly, about me." Rosemary put her hand on Laura's shoulder.

Laura breathed in. "Why not about us?"

Some Rosemary and Thyme fic ideas I won't use, for public use:

(fair warning my ideas can be wildly disjointed)

Rosemary leaves Laura a note that says "Be back soon, love Rosemary." What if Laura keeps it? she doesn't fully know why, it just gives her a happy sort of thrill, so tucks it a way in her sock drawer at home. Then one day, Rosemary is out of socks and decides to borrow a pair of Laura's and finds the note. And she wonders why Laura would still have that? why would she keep a meaningless note? be back soon doesn't mean much, but "Love Rosemary" could mean a good deal more to her, couldn't it? and she wonders about that, and wonders and wonders and wonders until she's distracted by it nearly every minute and now she can't get a moment's peace. I don't know where this one goes.

2. that bit where laura thinks rosemary is dead and goes to tell her mum and Rosemary shows up in a bathrobe and Laura goes "Rosemary!" and we don't get much of a reaction. They probably hug, and Laura cries, and probably keeps touching her to remind herself rosemary is there. And then… what if she wakes up in the middle of the night and goes to check if Rosemary is still there and it turns into an only one bed fic because of course, Rosemary is like "why don't you just stay"

3. Your standard, we got drunk, woke up, and oh damn, are those rings on our fingers? fic

4. drunk flirting

5. drunk sleeping together?

6. one of them arrives first to a job. The client has gotten confused and called them by the other's last name. He's such a poor old thing that they don't want to correct him. Little do they know, he thinks they're married. "Mrs" Thyme, etc. And when they try and protest, the client doesn't take no for an answer and now everyone thinks they're together. and maybe whichever one it is kind of likes the assumption. likes people assuming they belong together. Likes as the suitor's backing off the other one when she arrives, because they think she's taken. and then you know, feelings realization.

7. Season 2 the Gongoozlers

Rosemary breaks her leg and Laura goes to the hospital to see her. the nurse (?) asks if she's a relative. And Laura, fearing she won't be let in if she isn't a relative, tells them she's her wife. She still can't go in because they're busy operating but the son of the family at the place they're working overhears (he's a porter at the hospital) and mentions it to the fam and pretty soon the entire film set thinks they're married or the equivalent since it's not legal yet and Rosemary doesn't know and Laura is just wondering around like oops. Because she is getting to see Rosemary now and she's scared if she denied it, that it'll get back to the hospital and she won't be allowed to see her at odd hours anymore. She's having to adlib answers to how did you two get together? Etc.

A lot of these are excess ideas i trimmed off of a potential "5 times everyone thought they were gay and 1 time they were" fic, if one couldn't tell

8. They run into Rosemary's ex. A female ex, and not a very nice one. Laura gets defensive, even though up till now, she had absolutely no idea Rosemary liked girls.

alright random dialogue prompts time:

"we are going to have to talk about this at some point."

"I know. But please not right now, I've got to have a sexuality crisis first."

"Oh right. Me too I suppose, but it's not so much of a crisis for me. To hell with men, remember?"

"Yes, but I think you took that to heart more than I did."

"Well you started it."

"I started it?!" Laura said indignantly. "I seem to recall you kissing me!"

"You might want to get over there. Your partner is verbally assaulting a police officer." And Laura gets there, sees it's Nick Rosemary is yelling at, and dives behind a bush.

3×2 seeds of time: "Even Caroline Pargiter! I was only introduced to her a couple of hours ago. What do I get but "oh this is er, er." I'm going to start calling myself er. Save people the trouble."

"Well you do have that effect on people. Sometimes I look at you and you're so beautiful I even forget my own name, let alone yours, and I've known you for years. You can't expect them to remember a thing after meeting you again. Poor things were so flustered they could hardly look at you."

Laura gave her a look. "I'm going to choose to believe that's it."

They were silent as they got into the car. Then Laura said "You know, it's been a long time since anyone's called me beautiful. I'd forgotten how it feels."

"this is why people think we're lesbians." "quite right."

and these are just the ones I don't want to use. I probably could come up with fifty more. look I just remembered another one.

9. the Gongoozlers.

Laura and Quinny are driving in the rover and Quinny asks if she can ask Laura some thing very forward and every single time I think she's about to ask if Laura likes women or of Laura and Rosemary are together. It also would fit pretty well if she asked Laura out. So perhaps those are three ideas.

I'm going to stop now.

Edit: here’s another.

When gay marriage is legalized in the Uk, Rosemary goes “well, shall we give it a go then?” And laura… is confused because they’re not even together. And Rosemary gives her this whole speech about how they should take advantage of this for the people that came before them etc.” And laura is like but we’re not gay.and Rosemary says it wasn’t legalized because of love, but so that the gays could visit each other in the hospital and inherit each other’s property, and doesn’t she want that? And laura finds she does want that, and that the more she thinks about it, the more she thinks she’d live Rosemary as Swidden

[zablife]

Seemingly Incurable Sadness

Alfie Solomons x female reader

Summary: (Modern AU) You’re weeks away from your wedding to Tommy, but you’ve run away to Camden to think about your future. When you stumble into a random pub for a drink, you meet a handsome bartender who changes everything.

Author’s Note: This was requested by the lovely @solomons-finest-rum who asked me to write a modern Alfie fic where he owns his own bar. I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: drinking, language, unwanted advances

You’d just arrived in Camden feeling tired and ready for a drink. Unable to go any further, you settled for the first pub you saw, a run down little place called The Rum House. Although it was late afternoon, the sun disappeared as soon as you crossed the threshold. The interior was dark and it smelled of damp as though you had entered a cave. Your boots stuck to the sticky floorboards giving you the feeling it hadn’t been mopped properly in ages. 

If you’d had any concern for your comfort, you would have chosen literally anywhere else to rest. However, you were too tired to care. Dropping your exhausted body onto a stool, you looked around noting the lack of patrons. A few old men sat huddled in a corner arguing about a football match, while another man kept to himself at the end of the bar.

Usually when you came to London you enjoyed fine dining in elegant restaurants accompanied by expensive bottles of wine. You didn’t spend much time in places like these because your fiancé would never have allowed it. He liked the best life had to offer, exhibiting his wealth and influence via material possessions and you were no exception. At times you felt you were just another box to be ticked, a possession to be acquired in a month when you would be wed in front of 500 guests. Most of those people you barely even knew, businessman and politicians more important to your fiancé than you were. 

Feeling overwhelmed by the demands of wedding planning and the life that awaited you as the wife of an MP, you’d taken an unannounced trip to escape. Though you knew this was a childish way of handling your feelings, you also knew how futile it was to voice your concerns. Your friends and family all thought you were lucky to be marrying a handsome, successful man. They said you were ungrateful if you complained about him being cold and distant at times, explaining he had other responsibilities besides tending to your every whim. 

As you sat at the bar, your phone began to ring. You reached for it noticing yet another call from the florist and let it go to voicemail. No sooner had you done that, a text message appeared from your mother and then from your sister. The tone of the messages were the same, wondering how you could be so irresponsible as to disappear this close to your wedding date. Suddenly the stress was seeping back into your body, making you tense all over. You switched your phone off for a much needed respite from the barrage of communication, then cradled your head in your hands as a gruff voice called out to you, “Gonna order somethin?”

“Could I have a minute, please? And then I’ll order,” you said on a shaky breath without looking up. 

“Course, dove,” he said more gently, leaving you to your thoughts.

Ten minutes later he returned, placing a ringed hand on the bar to announce his presence without startling you. He stood before you, clearing his throat softly and you were grateful for the delicate approach. Looking up, you noticed his furrowed brow, as he stared at you with concern. “You alright? Can I get you anything?” he asked.

You nodded before answering politely, “Gin neat, please.” The bartender turned to face the shelf and began to pull a bottle of Shelby Co. Limited gin from the top before you shouted, “No, not that one!”

The man looked over his shoulder at you with a puzzled look. “It’s too sweet,” you attempted to explain quickly, affecting a softer, more controlled tone of voice. 

“Right, can’t blame you there, love," he said, an affable grin warming his handsome features. He attempted a bit of humor to make you feel at ease. "Marketing for it’s a bit soppy as well, innit?” He began reciting the label from memory dramatically gesturing with one large hand, “For the eradication of seemingly incurable sadness!” 

As he pulled another bottle from the shelf, he let out an amused chuckle from deep within his chest, “What self-absorbed twat thought that up, eh?” 

You scoffed as you replied, “Someone who makes a lot of money making promises of happiness without having to fulfill them."

The man snickered for a moment, placing your drink in front of you. “Is that why you’re here then?” he asked, intense green eyes studying you carefully. 

“Why do you ask?” you inquired, turning your gaze down toward your drink.

“If you had ordered whisky, I’d know you was here for business," he said matter of factly. Continuing with a bit of hesitation he added, "Had it been rum...Well, rum’s for fun and fuckin’, innit?" he said, a blush creeping into his cheeks. "So if you ain’t here to do either of those, what are you here for, treacle?” 

“Just a quick drink,” you said, gesturing toward your glass with a tight smile. You could tell by the way he leaned onto his elbows that he wasn’t finished. He was still observing you with those piercing eyes.

“Well the problem with gin, right, is that it leads to the melancholy. Ain’t gonna solve your problems with that stuff, but maybe you already knew that,” he observed, stroking his beard thoughtfully. Pointing a finger in your direction he said, “You’re a clever woman to see through the Shelby bullshit.”

You jerked your head up to look at him, wondering how he knew. “What did you say? Do you know the Shelby family?”

“Course I do, love. Tommy and his animal brothers too, don’t I?" he said narrowing his eyes. "Their gin business is doing far better than my rum ever did. Nothing but bees and honey like you said, off people’s troubles and what not.” Trying to affect an air of nonchalance, he picked up a rag and began cleaning the top of the bar. You breathed a heavy sigh realizing he was discussing business now, oblivious to any personal ties you might have with the family.

“You’re Alfie Solomons,” you stated, making the connection between the man behind the bar and the discontinued rum label that had gone out of business five years ago. Tommy had a hand in ending this man's career with his usual tactics. You called them unethical, while Tommy preferred unorthodox. Since that time no one knew what had become of the rum distiller whose spirits had once earned numerous awards. All kinds of rumors swirled around London, but no one knew where he had vanished to after the collapse of his company or if he was even alive.

“That’s right,” he said with a quick nod. His phone began to ring and he reached into his back pocket to fish it out. He excused himself to the back room to take the call as you traced the top of your glass absently.

Lost in thought about the day’s events, you hadn’t noticed the man at the end of the bar creep closer to you until his voice was ringing in your ear suddenly asking, “Want some company?”

“You’re alright,” you said without making eye contact. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing all by herself?” he continued. The sweat and whisky poured off him in equal measure and you leaned back to avoid the stench as much as possible. That only enticed him more though so you decided to make a verbal statement of your disgust. 

“I’m trying to enjoy my drink in peace. Leave me alone,” you said forcefully.

Despite your tone, he didn’t seem deterred, venturing a hand to your shoulder next. You brushed him off quickly, standing to put distance between you. “Don’t touch me!” you shouted loud enough to get the attention of the old men in the corner. However, they only watched with mild interest, none of them coming to your aid. 

“You don’t have to be such a bitch,” he slurred at you, grabbing for you arm. At that moment, Alfie came back to witness the scene and instantly sprang into action, dodging a sloppy punch as a bullmastiff came to join him growling viciously by his side. He had the man's arm in a painful looking hold before he could utter another word, leaning over to growl in his ear, “The lady told you to leave her alone, mate. That means she’s off the fucking menu for you. So how come you’re still thievin’ my oxygen?”

The man mumbled some incoherent response before trying to escape the hold. Alfie was much faster though, hauling him off toward the exit. “Good boy, trot on. Down there is Bonny Street,” he said shoving the man out the door. 

When Alfie returned you offered your thanks for his help.

“S no trouble. Don’t like ladies in my establishment bein harassed. Besides if I didn’t, you might  never come back. Couldn’t have that now could I?” he asked with a grin, scratching his dog behind the ears.

You gave him a watery smile in return, feeling how kind he was being. He wasn’t hitting on you. He was offering protection and for that you were grateful. You hadn’t felt genuine warmth from someone in a long time. You were so tired from keeping your guard up all the time. It was nice to have someone look after you, even if it was only keeping the bar flys away. 

“If you say you don’t want to be disturbed, than you won’t be,” he said, ready to return to his station behind the bar.

“Wait,” you called out. “If you don’t mind my asking, what happened to you?"

“You mean Solomons Rum?” Alfie said leaning against the bar. 

“Yes, you just disappeared. Why?” you said curious to know how someone could lose everything and still keep their sanity.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, pet. Life is so much easier to deal with when you are dead,” he proclaimed.

You had to laugh at his assertion. “So that’s the secret, eh? Abandoning all responsibility?” you asked, voice turning serious all of a sudden. Alfie picked up on your tone right away.

“Now I didn’t say that. Didn’t run off and join the circus, did I?” he said gesturing around his bar. “Just took a step back and become a respectable member of the community’s all. Stopped troubling myself with shit that don't matter.” He scratched his beard before venturing a query of his own. “Where did you run away from, dove?”  

“Birmingham,” you revealed, although it shocked you as soon as the answer left your lips. “I’m trying to make a decision about my future,” you said continuing your confession. It must have been the gin lowering your inhibitions, normally you would have never divulged that kind of information to a stranger. Alfie seemed different though. He was offering to listen and you weren’t used to that. It felt like an indulgence you had to take advantage of just this once. You wondered if he might be able to help you make sense of things. 

Just when you opened your mouth to speak again, Alfie stood, interrupting your train of thought. You shut your mouth quickly, feeling foolish. Perhaps he didn’t want to hear your troubles after all. In one swift movement, he wordlessly swept your glass from the table, leaving you in utter confusion.

“What are doing with my drink?” you asked watching him discard it behind the bar. You noticed him pour an amber colored liquid into a double old fashioned. When he brought the new drink back to you with a flourish he explained,  “Whereas rum incites violence, it also allows you to be liberated from your self-doubt.” He pushed the spirit toward you with two fingers, staring at you intently. “I believe you’re more in need of the old rum right now than gin,” he said with a wink. Sitting back on a stool and crossing his arms over his chest he declared, “Now, tell us your plan.”

Over the course of the next two hours you spoke to Alfie candidly about your troubles and he listened as the last of his patrons filtered out of the bar until it was just the two of you sat at the bar discussing your life. You explained how badly you wanted a life of your own away from the pressure of living under your fiancé's shadow. You told him how desperately you wanted to stop taking orders and how you dreamed of having a real partner in life and in love.

Somewhere along the way you had decided you couldn't go through with your marriage to Tommy and you knew you would have to tell him sooner rather than later. It must have been when you'd gotten lost in Alfie's thoughtful feedback or the way he held your gaze as he absorbed every new piece of information with care. He even made you laugh despite the painful things you divulged. Whatever it was, you were falling under his spell.

The rum had warmed you pleasantly and you had forgotten about the sadness which consumed you when you arrived. After a brief lull in the conversation, you felt yourself lean into Alfie, knees brushing against his. Your hands came to rest on his thighs, steadying you as you gazed into his captivating eyes.   You waited midway between you with eyes closed and felt his calloused palm graze your cheek, followed by the sensation of his soft lips on yours. You melted into his touch and synchronized your movement with his, wishing you never had to part from him.

As you eventually pulled away for air, you came to your senses and realized you needed to get back to the real world. “Alfie, I’m sorry, but I need to check in with my family. They’ll be worried,” you said.

“Say no more,” he reassured you, leaning back to give you space.

As you turned your phone back on, it immediately lit up with an incoming call. Tommy’s face popped up on the screen and Alfie’s face flashed with recognition, suddenly realizing who you had been discussing these last two hours. “I need to take this,” you said grabbing the phone off the table and standing quickly to answer the call.

“Well this is going to be fucking biblical,” Alfie said with a smirk. 

Cont. reading Part 2

---------------------------------

Tag list: @solomons-finest-rum

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@tommydoesntpayforsuits

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60   

@easilyobessedbutflighty

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@peakyrogers

@christinasyellowflowers

@retromafia

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@runnning-outof-time

@potter-solomons

[dreamlandcreations]

Zablife Story Share - Chapter 6

Tommy Shelby x Solomons!Reader written for @zablife's Story Share collab

Summary: A few months ago Tommy woke up to find his wife gone, along with half his fortune. Now he is prepared to make a deal with the devil himself if he can get her back...

Warnings: not edited, a mess of tenses, re-write of yet another scene or two, almost smut but… see the tag guide for the warning

note: so so sooooo sorry this took so f****** long, I still deleted a lot of plot so I could finally post this in a hopefully coherent version 😔

∼ 2,6K words

previous part by @shelbydelrey Series Masterlist next part by @look-at-the-soul

“My name is Luca.”

The man's every word was running on repeat in Tommy’s mind ever since the short conversation. Yet another person to underestimate him.

Tommy was not the man he was a few months ago. He was lacking the patience for anything that didn't advance his cause. He had only one thing in mind. You.

When he was about to leave this pretentious asshole behind without a word, Luca was able to get his undivided attention with a simple, mocking sentence.

"I heard you lost something, Mr. Shelby."

The treacherous truth cutting deep into the open wound that you left on his heart. It was his weakness, he knew it and accepting Luca's invitation to discuss business was a rather reckless decision. Tommy knew that well, despite his emotional state, his mind never quit the speed it was always working at but he was willing to take the risk.

"What do you want?" His quiet words resonated with barely hidden anger as the drive to this bar was anything but calming.

"I want to offer you a deal. What else?" The smirk that accompanied the condescending tone was not helping his case, though Luca couldn't care less about that. "A queen for a king. It's a fair offer, don't you think?"

Luca was enjoying every moment of despair he could inflict on him by prolonging this meeting but in the end, he finally cut to the chase.

"Why would you want to help me?" Tommy asked, finishing his cigarette and getting his coat to leave and end this conversation once again.

The sneer that followed the simple answer told him more than the words themselves. "It's business."

Tommy couldn't sleep, lying awake in bed, replaying the conversation again and building a plan occupied his mind while his heart was aching anew just like the morning he lost you.

The deal was simple, 'kill another Solomons king' and get the girl. Fools, Tommy thought as the plan started to come together.

If it was all about business he wouldn’t have shot Alfie when the Jew refused to tell him how he was involved in your disappearance. It was after he received the news of your deaht that he started digging deeper.

The trail you left with the stolen jewels led him to the king of Camden Town. It was not that surprising, you knew Alfie and he was inclined to help out his people. For the right price, of course. But Tommy knew his tricks by now. 

There was only a moment, when Alfie’s careless gangster mask slipped. Tommy saw it and didn’t let it go. Alfie’s usual way of handling things, namely agitating him, didn’t work this time. The taunting of daring to shoot him ended up with both of them getting a bullet. Tommy to his side and Alfie to his face. Then Tommy was not only grieving the loss of his wife but the only friend who ever truly understood him. Or so he thought. 

Tommy didn't tell his family about the stolen money reappearing in their accounts again. Only Polly knew, who handled all their finances for the time being. However, the money wasn't what he wanted. He needed you. He said that to Alfie as well, when he finally visited the ‘dead man’ at his Margate Purgatory as once again the trail of evidence led him to the Jew.

“Life is so much easier to deal with when you are dead,” Alfie graoned as he took a seat.

“Well, it isn’t easy for the living, Alfie. The ones who the dead left behind.” Tommy’s remark was met with a scolding grimace.

“Now, you are being silly. If you search for the dead, Tommy, who has unfinished business with you, yeah, you could soon become one of them, right?”

Alfie reached for the gun at the ‘unfinished business’ part and he was pointing it at Tommy now, who was standing by the balcony door, not at all fazed by the threat. 

“Three, two, one, bang.” A pause on his part, just a second of silence as Alfie’s scowl returned, wordlessly questioning his sanity. “No? Fine.”

“Good Lord, your fucking condition has gone worse, mate.” Alfie exclaimed as Tommy finally sat down.

“And it’s gonna get a lot worse if you don’t help me.” 

“Or what, Tommy? You want to give it another try?”

Another dramatic pause. But this time Tommy’s lips twitched with a smile, a genuine one after such a long time.

“Nah.”

Leaning back, Tommy pointed at the piece of paper he placed on the desk next to ‘holy book that gives a very, very vivid desciption (of the place they’ll both end up in the afterlife). “Is she there?”

When Alfie doesn’t answer or even look at him, eyes glued to the piece of paper he picked up for several, long minutes, Tommy decides to turn the tables on the Jew and give him his own medicine, of taunting.

“You told me you could see things. Or did you lose more than an eye?”

The comment gets the result he was hoping for, or at least partially. As Alfie starts to monologue in an ever increasing voice, Tommy strains to listen not just the words but the meaning behind them.

“What the fuck are you talking about? Does it seem like I lost an eye?” He leans closer, turning his head slithglty to shift the focus on his unseeing eye.“No. Right. Well, as you know I was shot. In the face… by some cunt.” Another pause, and a meainingful glance form Alfie and a hint of a smile from Tommy, then he continues.”Yeah, right, but I still have the eyes and I can see with this eye. I’m not blind. This eye is the eye of a dead man and dead men can see through life like it was a curtain that billows with the flicker of truth upon it.”

Alfie leans back, spreading his arms over the back of the couch, stretching out like a cat

“Tell me what you see, then?”

The question only results in a dissatisfied grunt at first, then a sigh as he decides to give crumbs to the man sitting across from him, starving for information.

“It is not what I’m seeing, Tommy, it is what you still don’t see, right, that’s what matters.”

At the questioning look Alfie sighs again.

“You are here. Again, yeah, asking about your wife, yet you never ask the right questions.” Getting restless, he leans on his elbows, eyeing Tommy. “I wonder, a clever boy like you, why did you never ask why are you here, hmm?”

Before Tommy can respond Alfie is back in his previous position, reaching for a little box next to the holy book.

“Never mind now.” He takes out something and throws it to Tommy. “Here, take this. When you find her, give this to her keeper and say that ‘you can always count on family’. Important words, mate, you do well to remember them.”

Done with the conversation, Alfie says goodbye in a typical manner.

“Right, off you go now. Fuck off from here, Tommy. This is the place for the dead, so don’t come back unless you are one too.” A dramatic pause before he continued, leaning on his elbows with a hint of a familiar smirk tugging at his lips. “Or you have one of us with you.”

“Goodbye, Alfie.” says Tommy with a grateful smile. 

His mind was racing with chaotic thoughts for hours but replaying that last memory lulled him into a dream where he was holding you in his arms, safe from the outside world as you were sitting by the water, the calming waves of Margate’s beach surrounding you.

A few days later, as his plan started to come into place, Tommy found himself facing none other than Charles Solomons, pointing a gun at him.

“I come in peace,” Tommy says, raising his hands in surrounder.

“No, no, no.” You come running out of a room, trying to stand between the men but your uncle pulls you back. “Don’t shoot him, he is…”

“Oh, I know who is he.” Solomons looks at him with narrowing eyes before he turns to you with a stern expression. “He’s the man who shot your brother in the head.”

The revelation suprising you for different reasons but while you froze in place, Tommy was quick to act and twist the gun from your uncle’s grip.

“What’s a bullet to the face between friends, eh?” Tommy asked triumphatly as he aimed his own gun at the furious man who still tried to hide you behind him.

“How can you joke about that?” You exclaim and free yourself and march toward your husband, hitting him in the chest a few times before he is able to trap you in against him in a half embrace.

“I make no more fun of it then your brother himself,” Tommy murmurs into your hair.

Ignoring the accusation, you look up at him with eyes full of tear and hope. “He’s alive.”

“That depends on who you ask.” He continues at your frown. “And if you ask him, it depends on his mood, so the answer can change every once in a while. Or in a couple of minutes.”

“I think you spent too much time with Alfie.” You scold him with a huff of a laugh that you try to downplay.

Tommy smiles at you then but as a thought occurs to him it turns into a grimace. “I imagine I’ll be spending even more time with him in the future.”

You can’t hold back the laugh this time, earning another smile from Tommy as he leans in for a kiss but you are both distracted by the forgotten man behind you.

Your uncle clears his throat in impatience, folding his arms and stands there in imposing silence, showing his disapproval.

Tommy throws him the gift he got from Alfie, repeating the words he was told to remember. The older man was silently considering his options before reluctantly accepting that he didn’t really have a choice.

The debate of how to proceed with the war the Italians just declared has gone on for hours but eventually it was you who convinced your uncle to listen to Tommy, listing his previous victories as he conquered his place in the world of gangsters before was more than enough evidence.

Your husband somehow convinced your uncle to let him stay in your room before you depart the next day. Your husband took your hand and asked you to lead the way as soon as the men agreed to the plan.

In the privacy of your small room, he grasped you as soon as the door closed, pushing you against the hard surface and kissing you desperately until you had to pull away to catch your breath.

“Don’t do that to me ever again!” He practically growled at you while holding your face between his hands.

You try to look away, your gaze moving down in shame but he would have it. Forcing your head up to look him in the eyes again as he wordlessly demanded your promise. 

“I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.” The whisper of the admission, except of the promise only calmed him down because your tone told him that you knew it was a mistake.

“You are my wife. Your mess is my mess.” That made you smile tentatively. An unlikely confession of love like that could only sound romantic from Tommy fucking Shelby.

“I love you,” you said softly. He heard the apology and the question in it too. It was like you said you were sorry while you also asked if he still loved you after all this. Silly girl, he thought.

Tommy took your hand in his, laying it on where his heart was ‘beating just for you’ as he claimed on your wedding night, and at the same time, he guided your gaze to his by hooking his fingers under your chin. His beautiful eyes shine with tears, betraying how much you’ve hurt him and your own heart breaks again as you wish you’d just told him everything in the first place.

“Always,” he declared as he is squeezing your hand to will you to remember his vow, to understand that he will be yours, always. Just like you were his.

He kissed you then. Slow and tentative at first, gentle and almost scared before the burning passion you always felt for each other took over. Tommy pulled you closer, body flush against his, already tagging at your clothes and trailing down kisses along your neck as soon as he got rid of the coat. 

Your fingers glide into his hair, drawing him impossibly closer while you moan for him but when he fists his hand at the edge of your dress, sliding it up to reveal more skin, you freeze in his arms. 

For a second you are back in the hospital, then another memory flashing up in your mind. The blood. The pain, physical and emotional alike. It’s too much. You can’t.

When you return to the present, only a second or two has passed as you refocus on your surroundings, stepping away from Tommy, who sits down the bed, waiting patiently for you.

He calls your name, gentle and soothing, like he is afraid you’d run any moment. Taking your hand as you reach out to him, he pulls you closer slowly, giving you a chance to stop any time you want. His arms circle around you, head resting on your middle while you hold him close too, standing there, letting the contact bring peace to both of you.

A shuddering breath leaves him when he pulls away, looking up and giving you a faint smile before he leans back, pulling you with him as he rolls over in the bed to have you by his side. Tommy cups your face, once again guiding your gaze to his, wordlessly asking if this is alright. Your answer is to pull him down and press your lips to his, telling him everything he needs to know for now. You love him, you missed him and you do not want to be apart again.

Despite the reassuring gestures, Tommy doesn’t let you go that night. You both cling to the other, legs tangled and body as close as possible while, for the first time in months, you and your husband have a good night’s sleep.

When the sun wakes him up, Tommy doesn’t disturb your sleep. He is only watching, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he found you and now he has a chance at the life he always dreamed about in secret. 

But Tommy Shelby is no fool, he has carefully planned out this game and his enemies will not realise what hit them until it’s too late. 

He can do this, he can win this. For you. For the life he will have with you. 

Tommy finally felt more like his old self, with the prize so close. He had everything not long ago, and he will have it all again, even if he had to fight for it once more. War is coming but he is ready.

But first, he will take you to safety. Where the dead reside. To his brother-in-law. 

After these many years, Tommy knew their peculiar friendship would last for their probably not so long lifetime but to be family with that man, now that’s gonna be an enitery different ride.

Fuckin’ hell.

[bennettwhawkins]

Coming home to his wife and best friend would never grow tiring. Hearing the laughter and the barks from their human and dog children would never get old. They made his life feel more wholesome, and that was something Bennett had always promised himself. To be present, loving, nurturing, playful. Whatever his family needed of him. So he was doing just that. The giggles only erupted at their mother’s voice calling them little swamp monsters, and Bennett could barely speak at his own laughter begging to escape. It was the most joyful sound in the world, in his eyes. “You look stunning today.” He stated, just as he did every day, only taking a step back when he realized Camden was sleeping. Didn’t want to wake the tiniest swamp monster after all. “We’ll do that now. Dada Swamp monster needs to change” he stated as he was still In his suit from work. “Alright guys you know how it goes. Can’t hold on going up the stairs. Go on. Go wash your hands for dinner we’ll play more after.” @zoexhawkins

𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 @zoexhawkins

"Wow that smells amazing." Bennett called from the entry way of the Hawkins home. The sound of laughter radiating from the living room was a sound he'd never get used to; he'd truly always loved children. He'd fill their home with seven more if he knew they could handle it. He was greeted by hugs of his two oldest - Carley and Carter - and he hugged them both back, lifting them into a hug like they'd always done. He lifted them, they slid down his torso until they were both wrapped around his leg; it was a game they played, the question was just would they 'play invisible' or would he be a swamp monster today? He never really knew. The giggles that filled his ears as he stomped through the house, full swamp monster mode told him he'd made the right choice. Making his way to the kitchen, he smiled when he saw Zoe standing at the stove, their youngest strapped to her chest in the carrier. "Afternoon, beautiful." he greeted per usual, a kiss pressed to her cheek and then her lips gently, a soft kiss placed on Camden's head after. "Do you need help? I'm in swamp monster mode but I can pause it if you need me to."