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#hey it's christmas in september
cheemken · 6 months
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Hey Knight, with Halloween coming up soon I got a question about the champions
What do they do on Halloween?
Do they watch Horror movies? Walk around the Neighbourhoods looking at decorations? Start putting up the Christmas lights already? Go to Haunted houses? Or do any of them go Trick or Treating?
Actually about that last one, what would the Champions dress as?
This could be directed towards either Gen of Champions, you decide which group to answer with :)
Ohhh that's fun! But do spare me bc I have no experience w Halloween as in my country we only have the Four Months of Christmas™ hahaha so like yeah I'm gonna base all this on the shows I watch lmao
Anyways going w the first gen champs
My guy, Geeta is absolutely fucking vibing, the biggest horror fan and the one who goes all out during Halloween, Diantha's vibing too in a different way, like fr, once October hits, Geeta's there waking Diantha up all "mi ángel, it's Halloween soon, we need to set up the traps"
"yes I know, dar— what do you mean traps—"
"for the horror house. I'm sure people would love it this year."
"darling, please, you went overboard last time, you traumatized someone."
"Last time wasn't even that terrifying."
"Geeta, no—"
It's Leon she scared lmfao
Cynthia and Lance would go around the neighbourhood tho judging their decorations. Going on how that guy didn't even bother, that lady is trying too hard, they're sure as hell some of their decorations are just their ghost pokemon. These two then tell Geeta all the decorations the other peeps in the neighbourhood has and she plans to outdo them, this is honestly the only time of the year these three get along well lmfao like they're that competitive they want their house and their decorations to be the very best like no one ever was hahaha
Wallace and Diantha do go all out on costumes fr, Lance and Steven has to deal w them, they have to be matching, for the aesthetic. Diantha and Wallace also really competitive, wanting to outdo others' costumes. Dia and Lance do supervise Iris and Hau when they go trick or treating back then when they were younger, it's always nice to see the kids having fun and making new friends, tho Dia did have to limit their sweets during those nights bc the first time they celebrated Halloween together, Hau and Iris and even Cynthia did not sleep the entire night bc of the sugar rush, Dia now knows better lmao. Also doesn't let Cynthia watch over the kids when out trick or treating, Cyn taught them how to actually trick people to get more candy.
Leon would celebrate the Four Months of Christmas™ fr, even gets the kids to join him. Look, he's not like Diantha who indulges Geeta in her grotesque horror filled interests, he just wants presents and snow and having the fam together and presents okay, homeboy would put up the Christmas lights as soon as September hits lmfao like their house would be halved w Geeta's Halloween decorations and Leon's Christmas decorations. Geeta, out of spite, placed spiders and witches hats on Leon's Christmas decorations; Leon, in revenge, also put Christmas hats and reindeer headbands on Geeta's Halloween decorations. It's always a war zone in there home once September or October hits hahaha
Idk what they'd wear tho fr, I just know Wallace and Diantha would have the most aesthetic costumes out of all of them lmfao, Geeta would have like,, idk, she gives off the vibes she'd have a costume of Leatherface from Texas Chainsaw Massacre, her mask is so detailed that it scared everyone. Y'know Leon's Christmas get up in PokeMas? Yeah, I know he'd wear that during Halloween just to spite Geeta lmfaooo homeboy would defend himself saying it's still a costume hahaha
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thank-god-and-you · 1 year
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anderson-residence · 2 years
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So Lana loves Junie B Jones books. I talked about that headcanon before buut 👀👀 she doesn't have this book
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But needs it because there is one part in it where Junie's teacher gives her an assignment to take photos of her vacation. She doesn't like assignments that mean schoolwork. He gets her excited to do it by telling her she's their classroom's official photojournalist. She's excited at the word offical. But Lana would get excited about the photojournalist part. Good way to make her read a book (its a struggle sometimes) even if it's just mentioned on the one page, hey she's drawn in at that point.
@wynterlanding what can I say Lana goes 👀🤩❤ for anything that reminds her of Landon. Because he's nice to her and even as young as she is she realizes Dad has helped her sooo much.
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stevesbipanic · 2 months
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@steddielovemonth Day 4: Love is being willing to wait for them @sidekick-hero
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This wasn't how it was supposed to go. They'd planned it all out, waiting for Spring Break to tell everyone. Robin and Wayne knew, but Steve had wanted to wait to tell the kids a bit longer. Oh how he wished he'd been braver. Now everyone either knew or guessed that Steve's heart belonged to Eddie, after all, you don't just sit by someone's bedside waiting for them to wake up for three months.
They'd met properly at Scoops, Steve was considering a tattoo of that place for giving him his two soulmates. Kissed for the first time after Steve's bruises healed, Eddie never wanting to be that scared for Steve again.
Steve had told them about the kids, wanting him to look after them in school, sharing secret smiles at Hellfire pick up.
Cuddled up on the couch during Christmas morning waiting for Wayne to get home so they could all trade presents.
They were supposed to tell the kids after the game, but that had ended in a fight with Eddie not cancelling Hellfire. Steve thinks sometimes what would have happened if he hadn't driven home alone that night. Would his boyfriend still have seen the horrors he did?
So he waited, not having gotten a chance to say he was sorry while running for their lives. When he wasn't helping the relief efforts he was here, no one could make him leave even if they wanted to.
"Hey, Eds."
If Eddie was awake he'd say something sweet like "Hi, angel."
"Anniversary is coming up soon."
Eddie has had it written in the calendar since last September, "I wouldn't forget it for the world, sweetheart." He would say.
"I miss you so much."
He'd probably crack a joke like, "Miss me? You've seen me every day, baby."
Steve took his hand, laying his head down on Eddie's chest, listening to the thrum of life straight from the source rather than machine. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend that this was all a dream and they were just at home in bed.
"I love you so much, Eddie, I don't care if it's another three months or three years I'm never leaving you alone again."
"That's a bit dramatic, baby, someone's going to think you've got a crush on me." Of course Eddie would joke abou–wait that was in Steve's head.
Steve shot up opening his eyes to meet the dark brown ones he'd had to only see in dreams shining back at him. Eddie cracked a shaky smile and gripped Steve's fingers gently.
"Hi, Stevie, from what I hear I've been asleep awhile."
"Worth the wait, Eds, worth the fucking wait."
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sunsetreid · 6 months
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christmas gift [ s. reid ]
— part two !
part of the ‘ back to school night ‘ series
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find part one here !
pairing : teacher!Spencer Reid x single mom!reader
summary / prompt : three months after she begins to see him, (Y/N) wants to tell her daughter about her and Spencer’s relationship … but Spencer isn’t sure that he’s ready to tell Cassia
requested : kinda
genre : smut, fluff, and angst (the trifecta !)
warnings : age gap (8 years), mentions of body and self esteem issues, language throughout, angst (with an eventual happy ending), explicit sexual content, oral (m receiving), p in v protected sex, pet names during sex
【 18+ CONTENT BELOW (minors dni !) 】
Sneaking around is hard enough, but sneaking around with an 8-year-old child in the house is a whole other level. Especially for three months.
(Y/N) hates feeling like she’s lying to her daughter and that she has been since early September.
There are two days until Christmas. It’s been three and a half months of sneaking around and coming up with lies about why she has to stay at her dad’s for a few extra hours after school.
Cassia is young and loves her dad enough to not ask questions or be suspicious of her mother’s behavior. (Y/N) is at least grateful for that.
(Y/N) and her daughter are in the car on the way to Cassia's father's house on Christmas Eve Eve. According to their custody agreement, Cassia is to spend the night of the 23rd into the 24th with her father while spending the 24th into the 25th. Her father is always welcome to join them to open presents with their daughter on Christmas.
"Mom," Cassia says from the backseat. "What do you do when you drop me off at Daddy's?"
She blinks and looks in the rearview mirror at her daughter. "I stay up really late and have a couple of adult drinks," she replies. It's not a complete lie. Sometimes she has a guest over ... in her bed.
"Daddy lets me stay up late," Cassia says.
"I know he does," (Y/N) replies when she pulls up and parks out front of her ex's house. She turns in her seat to look at Cassia. "I've told him not to multiple times but he never listens to me. Anyway, we're here. Grab your backpack."
An excited Cassia grabs her backpack while her mother helps her out of the car. She runs up to the door and knocks on it. (Y/N) is right behind her as her father opens the door.
Cassia's father leans down and picks her up. "Back again, Munchkin?"
"Mom is going to stay up late and have adult drinks," Cassia tells her father. "She's so boring."
"Ouch," (Y/N) laughs before snatching her back from her father. "I'll be back for you tomorrow, squirt. Now go play. I have to talk to your father."
She runs up the stairs. Cassia's father, Mateo, leans against the doorframe. "I'm not in trouble, am I?"
(Y/N) shakes her head. "I just wanted to know how you told Cassia that you were dating someone," she replies. "Because I have no idea how to do that, especially because it's someone she knows."
Mateo says, "I gave her ice cream and told her about Jenna when she was at her happiest. She seemed happy, but she didn't meet Jenna for a few more weeks. She would ask me so many times a day when she would get to meet her so I eventually caved in. If she knows the guy you're dating then she shouldn't have much of an issue."
"So give her ice cream and tell her about my boyfriend," (Y/N) repeats. "Sounds good. Thanks. I'll be back around one tomorrow to come get her."
When she turns around to leave, Mateo says, "Hey, I don't get to know about your new boyfriend? I told you about Jenna when we started telling people about our relationship."
(Y/N)'s cheeks heat up. She still isn't used to calling Spencer her boyfriend. That title is only about six weeks old, but they've casually been seeing each other since back-to-school night.
“It’s still kind of new,” she admits. “I don’t think we’re ready to tell people yet, except maybe Cassia. I have to talk with him when I see him later.”
Mateo wiggles his eyebrows. “Later,” he teases. “Have fun later.”
“Shut up,” she playfully snaps. “I have to go get his gift so if you’ll excuse me.”
He lets her go this time. (Y/N) walks to her car and starts it up when she’s inside.
It’s a half-hour drive back to her apartment from Mateo’s house that he and his now fiancé share. She’s quick to get inside and get Spencer’s Christmas gift.
The gift isn’t exactly something that Spencer can unwrap, so she throws on a trench coat on top of the lingerie set that she bought so Spencer can “unwrap” her.
The set is red and lacy since it is Christmas. The bra is pretty much see-through and hides nothing. The panties are the same way. She’s practically naked.
She curls her hair, puts on some red lipstick to match the set, and then gets back in her car to head to Spencer’s.
Her hands are shaking as she drives the ten minutes to Spencer’s apartment. She’s never done anything like this for anyone, not even Mateo. They were together for years and she never put on lingerie to surprise him.
Needless to say, (Y/N) is extremely nervous. She has no idea how Spencer is going to react to his “gift”.
(Y/N) sits outside of Spencer’s apartment building for a few minutes when she pulls into the spot next to his car. She has completely lost the confidence she had when she bought the set a few weeks ago. She even contemplates going home to change really quickly and grabbing the actual gift that she was going to give to him after Christmas the next time she saw him.
Her plans to flee and change are quickly shut down when Spencer texts her.
‘ Almost here ? I’m ready for my present :) ‘
‘ just pulled up. give me a second. patience, dr reid ‘
‘ Finishing up some grading so just come in ‘
‘ got it. see you in a few seconds ‘
With a sigh, (Y/N) gets out of the car. Her heels click on the pavement as she walks into the building. She gets on the elevator because Spencer just has to live on the top floor, and she is not walking up six flights of steps in heels. That sounds like torture to her feet.
In the elevator, she sees herself in the mirror which is the wall of the elevator. Her hair still looks nice. Her lips are a rosey red color. Her eyes are bright and she is glowing.
She looks good. Who cares what a boy thinks?
Her confidence rebuilds itself just as the elevator dings and the doors open.
After a short walk down the hallway, (Y/N) knocks as she opens the door to Spencer’s apartment. “Spence? Where are you?” she calls as she sticks her head into the apartment.
“Office,” a faint voice calls from somewhere. “Be right there.”
As she closes the door behind her, a slightly disheveled Spencer Reid appears out of the hallway that leads to two bedrooms, a bathroom, and an office. He smiles when his eyes meet (Y/N)’s.
“Hi, my love,” (Y/N) greets him. Spencer leans down and presses a chaste kiss to her lips. “How is grading going?”
“Well, I’m grading spelling tests in cursive so it’s only a little frustrating since the kids are still learning how to write in cursive,” Spencer tells her. “Cassia’s writing is beautiful, by the way. Wonder where she gets that from.”
She smiles and wraps her arms around Spencer’s neck. “I taught her well,” she replies.
Spencer brings one of his hands up and traces her jaw with the back of his pointer finger. “A child’s first teacher is their mother,” he softly says. “No wonder she is insanely smart.”
“Stop trying to flatter me,” (Y/N) laughs. “You already know how much I like you. You don’t need to flatter me anymore. Not that you did much of that to begin with.”
He laughs in reply. “Give me ten minutes to finish up with grading then I am all yours,” Spencer tells her as he presses another quick kiss to her lips.
“Go be a teacher, Doctor Reid,” she replies. “I’ll be right here while you finish up.” There’s a hint of mischief in her voice and a smug smirk on her face. Spencer notices but he doesn’t ask any questions. He just raises his eyebrows at her.
Without another word, Spencer turns on his heels and heads back down to his office. She doesn’t hear a door shut, which she knows he likes to do when he wants to be left alone in his office.
She gives it five minutes before she puts her plan in motion and slowly makes her way down to the office. She walks very slowly and tries not to make any noise.
(Y/N) pushes the door open slightly and pops her head in to see her boyfriend hard at work. He has on his cute little glasses and looks concentrated on the paper on his desk. His head rests in one hand.
It would be a lie if she said that a focused Spencer is very hot. Especially when he goes into what she calls “teacher mode”, like he’s in right now.
He writes a letter on the paper that is in front of him before he puts it to the side. Spencer glances up to see (Y/N) standing at the door. He takes a second look.
“Sorry,” she says. “Couldn’t resist coming down and watching you work for a few minutes.”
Spencer laughs and shakes his head. "You would find a way to come watch me work," he replies as he leans back in his chair. He puts his glasses down on his desk. "I just finished though. Come here."
She smiles and walks further into the room. "I like watching you work, Spence," (Y/N) tells him as she leans against the desk with her legs between his knees. "You look so focused and cute. I can't help it."
"You know," Spencer slowly says. "I've noticed you haven't taken off that jacket yet when you usually get comfortable within seconds of walking in here."
(Y/N) sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. "Maybe your present is under the jacket," she tells him. Spencer raises his eyebrows. "Why don't you find out?"
He stands up, his legs between (Y/N)'s knees. She leans back on her hands on his desk so he can easily untie the tie that's keeping the jacket closed.
Her entire body shakes as Spencer undoes the tie around her waist. The jacket falls open and Spencer's eyes widen as he gets a look at what's underneath the jacket. "Fuck, (Y/N)," he mumbles under his breath. "You're going to kill me."
"Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we?" she says as she goes to close the jacket again.
Spencer shakes his head and almost shouts, "No, no, no!" He pushes the jacket off of (Y/N)'s shoulders until it pools around her wrists on the desk. She smiles when his hands slide to her waist and rest on the bare skin above the waistband of the panties. His thumb plays with the waistband itself. "I like it. Actually, I love it."
She smiles and feels her cheeks heat up. "Glad you like it," she says. "Merry Christmas."
"I like my Christmas present," he mumbles. (Y/N) has noticed that his eyes haven't left her body. "My pretty girl."
Her nickname that Spencer only uses when he wants sex or is turned on causes her cheeks to overheat.
She doesn't know how but she pulls her hands out of the sleeves of the jacket to reach out and cup Spencer's jaw. His warm eyes meet hers, and she sees a darkness in them. The same darkness he has when he craves her. (Y/N)'s hands slide down his neck and chest. Her fingers work at untying the tie around his neck.
"I don't understand why you always wear a full suit and tie," she tells him. "What have you done today that made you put this on."
"Faculty meeting at the school this morning," he replies as she gets the tie undone. "You've gotten better at untying ties, baby."
Using the tie, (Y/N) pulls Spencer close to her. He smiles. "I have a really good teacher," she teases.
As soon as the last word passes her lips, Spencer closes the space between them. His lips attack hers and he bites her lower lip. (Y/N) hums and uses her heels to pull Spencer even closer to her.
His hands come up and his fingers find a home in her curls. His fingers curl in her locks, not letting her go very far.
The tie drops to the floor, the jacket follows shortly after. (Y/N) begins to work on unbuttoning the shirt he's wearing. She untucks the shirt and shoves it off his shoulders to the floor.
She hooks her fingers into the waistband of his pants and turns them around so Spencer is the one against the desk. She kisses her way to his neck and mumbles, "That was only part one of your gift." She undoes the belt around his waist. The metal clangs together as she undoes it. Quickly, she pushes his pants down. "This is part two."
Before Spencer can reply, (Y/N) slides down to her knees in front of him. "Oh, fuck me," Spencer breathes out.
"That's going to be your job," she teases as she takes his semi into her hand. It doesn't take very long for the semi to get fully hard after she begins to stroke him. "Right now, I want you to fuck my mouth."
Spencer gnaws on his bottom lip as (Y/N) wraps hers around his dick. Her tongue swirls around the tip before she takes him in her mouth. She looks up at him with her eyes and finds that his head is thrown back. His lips are red and kiss-bruised from the rough kisses they shared earlier.
(Y/N) hollows out her cheeks and Spencer groans. “Oh my God,” he pants. He slowly begins to thrust his hips into her mouth. She stops moving her head and lets Spencer completely take over.
She feels Spencer grab a fistful of her curls. When he pulls slightly, (Y/N) lets out a soft groan around him. He looks down at her and she notices his eyes darken.
“You look so pretty like this, baby,” Spencer tells her. “You’re so pretty on your knees for me.” His hoarse voice goes straight down to her already soaked core.
When (Y/N) looks up at Spencer, she isn’t ready for the sight above her.
His hair has fallen into his face as he looks down at her and it moves very slightly as he rolls his hips. He tries to push it out of his face but it falls right back into place. His lips are still swollen. He looks at her like he is addicted to her.
He might be. She definitely is.
By her hair, Spencer pulls her off of his leaking dick. “As much as I want to come in that pretty mouth of yours,” he begins to say as he helps (Y/N) up to her feet. He pulls her against him and continues to talk in her ear. “I’d rather get you naked in my bed and fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”
His words make her shiver with excitement and anticipation.
Spencer kicks his pants completely off before he grabs her hand and leads her out of the room. They completely abandon their clothes in the office as they walk down the hallway.
As soon as they pass the threshold into Spencer’s bedroom, his lips are on hers. His hands are back on her jaw and she’s reaching behind her to unclasp the bra. It falls to the floor before Spencer’s knees hit the bed and he sits on the mattress.
The kiss breaks when Spencer hits the mattress. He looks up at (Y/N) with eyes that have something different than lust in them. She doesn’t recognize the feeling in them.
She slides off the soaked panties before crawling onto his lap. She straddles his thighs and Spencer attaches himself to her neck. He kisses her neck and collarbone while she runs her fingers through his locks.
Honestly, her fingers are in Spencer’s hair so much, she’d be upset if he cut his hair. It gives her something to grab on to when he rails into her.
Spencer cups one of her breasts and flicks her nipple with his tongue. She shivers under his touch and rolls her hips against his. “Baby,” she breathes out. “What happened to wanting to fuck me?”
“In a second,” he mumbles against her skin. “Let me show you how beautiful you are.”
She can’t help but smile at the comment.
(Y/N) has told Spencer about all of the body image and self esteem issues that she’s had over the years since she had a baby. She told him about how she hates how much her weight fluctuates since she had Cassia and about how she’s hated how her body has looked since.
Now he makes it his mission to remind her how beautiful she is every time they fall into bed together or when they take a bath together. Every time he sees her naked, he tells her how beautiful she is. He always makes it a point to kiss all of the stretch marks across her stomach because she is always so insecure about them.
Spencer rolls them over and (Y/N) scoots closer to the pillows. He goes into his bedside table to retrieve a tiny package. She watches him rip the package open with his teeth and roll its contents onto himself.
Almost like he could hear what she was thinking about two seconds ago, Spencer leans down and presses soft kisses across her belly. She giggles and runs her fingers through his hair.
The kisses trail up her belly and between her breasts until he’s hovering on top of her. (Y/N)’s legs fall open so he can get comfortable between them. He lines himself up with her and meets her eyes. He doesn’t dare move. He hasn’t asked yet.
“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N),” he whispers. “So fucking beautiful. You know that?”
“I know,” she replies, voice soft. She reaches up and runs her thumb over his kiss-bruised lips. Spencer kisses the pad of her thumb. “You’re pretty too.”
Spencer laughs and leans down to kiss (Y/N) so softly that her heart flutters in her chest. It happens every time he kisses her like this.
She runs her thumbs over his cheekbones and pulls back from the kiss. He looks between her eyes and asks, “Can I?”
“Absolutely.”
He smiles and she looks down to watch him push into her. The sudden pressure causes her to gasp and close her eyes. It’s a familiar and welcomed pressure as he fills her.
“Spence,” she breathes out. “For the love of God. Move.”
A soft laugh comes from above her before he begins to slowly move his hips into her. A soft hum comes from (Y/N) as his movements speed up and he thrusts deeper into her.
The bed begins to freak beneath them as Spencer moves faster. The sounds coming from (Y/N) grow louder the deeper he moves into her. She bucks her hips up at the same time Spencer moves into her. She matches his speed.
Spencer’s hand holds (Y/N)’s waist, helping her. He leans down and presses his forehead to hers. The tips of their noses touch every time Spencer thrusts into her.
A knot forms at the bottom of her stomach. It threatens to come undone every time Spencer moves.
She opens her eyes and looks at Spencer above her. (Y/N) feels the world around her freeze and her heart skips a beat in her chest.
It’s cliché and she knows that, but it truly does feel like they are the only two people in the world at this very moment. All she can think about is Spencer and how she is falling in love with him a little more every second they spend together.
Spencer’s fingers on her clit end up bringing her back to reality. “Fuck,” she moans. “Fuck, Spencer.” She bites back louder moans.
“Don’t do that, baby,” Spencer breathes out. He pulls her bottom lip out of her mouth. “I want to hear you, pretty girl. I want to hear everything that comes out of that pretty mouth of yours.”
His words cause the knot in her stomach to tighten.
“Spencer,” she whines. “Please make me come. I’m so close. Please.” Her pleas sound like she’s begging him.
It sounds almost like a challenge, and that’s how he takes it.
He pulls almost completely out of her before he slams back into her. It only takes a few times before the knot comes undone and (Y/N) clenches then comes around Spencer’s dick. She cries out his name and sees stars. Her entire body goes limp as she hits her high.
Her climax hit her so hard that she loses touch with reality. She doesn’t feel Spencer come into the condom, pull out of her, or notice when he goes into the bathroom.
When she comes to, she’s still panting and Spencer is walking back into the bedroom. “Welcome back,” he says when he sees that she has come back to reality. “Thought I might’ve killed you for a second there.”
“Imagine that on my tombstone,” she replies. “Death by Spencer Reid’s dick.”
Spencer wipes away the layer of sweat that has covered her body and says, “It at least has to say ‘Dr. Spencer Reid.”
She lets out a breathy laugh and looks over at Spencer as he falls onto the bed beside her, the cloth discarded somewhere on the floor. They’ve both found their way under the blankets. She rolls over to she’s facing her boyfriend.
(Y/N) is quick to notice the little box in his hand. She raises her eyebrows at him. “I know we said that we were going to give gifts after Christmas but I didn’t want to wait any longer before I gave you this,” he tells her.
“What did you get me?”
She takes the box that’s being offered to her. She pulls it open and gasps at its contents.
Inside the box is a little silver necklace with an ‘S’ on the chain.
“Something to wear when you miss me,” he tells her as he brushes away a strand of hair that has fallen into her face. “Or when we don’t get to see each other for a few days.”
“It’s so pretty,” she replies as she pulls it out of the box. “Help me put it on?”
He nods and (Y/N) hands him the necklace. She sits up with the covers under her arms and gathers her hair into a ponytail so it’s easier for Spencer to get it around her neck.
She looks down and smiles as soon as it’s secured. She lightly touches the ‘S’ and lets her hair drop. Spencer pushes it to the side and presses a soft kiss to her shoulder.
“Like it?” he mumbles against her skin.
“Love it.” She turns and faces him. “Thank you.”
Spencer mirrors her smile and she leans down. She presses a soft kiss to Spencer’s lips before settling back down in his arms.
As she falls asleep, she makes note of two things she wants to talk to him about in the morning.
She wants to tell him that she wants to tell Cassia about them … and that she’s in love with him.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
(Y/N) isn’t sure what wakes her up the next morning. It could be the sun that’s shining in through the window. It could be the smell of bacon. She doesn���t know.
She rolls out of bed and grabs one of Spencer’s shirts as well as a pair of his boxers. Tying her hair up into a messy bun on top of her head, she leaves the bedroom and follows the smell of cooking bacon.
In the kitchen is Spencer Reid. He has on plaid pajama pants and a loose fitting t-shirt. He whistles to himself as he cooks breakfast. (Y/N) sees the plate of pancakes beside him on the counter. The keurig is also making some coffee.
“Good morning,” (Y/N) says, her voice still slurred with sleep.
Spencer turns around and smiles. “You were supposed to be in bed,” he tells her as she walks up to him. “This was supposed to be breakfast in bed.”
She gets on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I smelled bacon and I needed to come investigate,” she replies. “Sorry.”
“You’re forgiven because of how good you look in my clothes right now,” he says. “Glad to know you still like bacon.”
“Duh.”
(Y/N) sits at the kitchen island and looks at her phone.
Mateo sent her a picture of himself and Cassia in a matching pajama set. A second message sits under it that says ‘ hope you’re wearing more protection than we did ‘.
She shakes her head and tucks her phone away when Spencer brings over breakfast.
“This looks really good,” (Y/N) says as she helps herself to the pancakes and bacon. Spencer sits a cup of coffee down in front of her. “You’re my hero.”
“I know that coffee is really the only way to your heart.” He kisses the top of her head before sitting beside her.
Breakfast is quiet. She enjoys Spencer’s presence as she eats the perfectly cooked bacon and fluffy pancakes that he made for them.
The entire time, she’s nervous. She’s nervous about bringing up telling Cassia and she’s definitely nervous about telling him that she loves him. Hopefully it doesn’t show how nervous she is.
Not only does Spencer make breakfast, but he does the dishes too. He goes back to humming to himself as he cleans.
Now seems like a good time to bring something up.
"So, I've been thinking about something," (Y/N) cautiously says. He turns his head and looks at her at the kitchen island. "I don't like the fact that I have been sneaking around my daughter, especially since she knows you and likes you. I wanted to what you think about maybe telling her about our relationship."
Spencer turns the water off and uses a hand towel to dry his hands. "I didn't know you wanted to tell her," he replies. "Last time we talked about it, you weren't too keen on being with me and now you want to tell Cassia about us. What's changed?"
She shrugs and looks down at the countertop. "I mean, I feel like I'm lying to her," (Y/N) tells Spencer. "Yesterday she asked me what I do after I drop her off at her father's house and I lied. I don't want to keep doing that to her, especially since I've told her how bad lying is since she could understand what lying was. I feel like a hypocrite."
He walks over to (Y/N) and she spins around in the chair so she's facing him. "I don't know," he sighs, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I don't want her to think of me as anything but her teacher right now. It's only been a couple of months since we started seeing each other. It's still kind of new and I'm enjoying this little bubble that we have created for ourselves. I'm not sure if I'm ready for that bubble to burst just yet."
"If you don't want to tell her then that's fine," (Y/N) assures him as she wraps her arms around his waist. "I just wanted to get your thoughts on it."
"I don't want to tell her then."
That was a little too quick. "Wow, okay," she replies as she drops her arms. "I didn't think you felt that strongly about not telling Cassie."
"It's not that I don't want to tell her," Spencer explains with a sigh. "I just don't know if I'm ready to be someone's father."
(Y/N) sits back in her seat. "You're not her father, Spencer," she tells him. "She has a father. You're her teacher right now. If anything, you'll be more of a father figure and best friend to her if we were to tell her. She isn't going to call you 'dad' if that's what your worried about."
Spencer runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. "I'm not sure if I want to just butt into someone's family, (Y/N)," he admits. "Telling your daughter would make this almost permanent and it'll be that I'm butting into your family."
Okay, ouch.
"You don't think this his permanent?" (Y/N) questions. "Do you think this is a fling or something? Is that the reason you really don't want to tell my daughter? Do you not see yourself as a permanent part of our lives? Trust me when I tell you this, Spencer Reid. Cassia adores you. All these facts that you tell her and all of the lessons that you do with her, she commits those to memory because she enjoys being around you. You've already become a permanent part of her life. Sorry to break that to you."
"That's not what I'm saying-"
"That sounds exactly like what you're saying," she interrupts. "I want this to be permanent, Spencer. It's why I want to tell Cassia. You've already become such an important part of my life and an important part of my daughter's life in different ways. She gets off the chair and sighs. "If you don't want this to be a permanent thing, just tell me. Don't drag me along because you drag my daughter along too."
When Spencer doesn't say anything, (Y/N) grabs her jacket from his office and pulls it around herself before she walks out into the cool, Christmas Eve air without telling him that she loves him.
She isn't sure that she should love him anymore.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
a/n - oops. sorry. this is what happens when i turn things into a series sometimes (remember y'all wanted this)
MASTERLIST
REQUEST GUIDELINES
PART ONE | PART THREE
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lixzey · 5 months
Text
Monster Among Men
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wc: 3.4k
September 1, 1977
It was a well-known fact that Y/n Potter and Regulus Black despised each other. The two had been at each other's throats since the day they met on the Hogwarts Express. Y/n and Regulus were like fire and ice. They were polar opposites and hated each other with every fiber of their being.
Their rivalry began with petty insults and minor jinxes, but over time it grew into a deep-seated hatred for each other. They were competitive in everything they did, from Academic success to Quidditch, and their constant feuding had become notorious among the rest of the student body. No matter how much the two of them attempted to avoid one another, somehow their paths always ended up crossing with one another and it would usually end up with Y/N screaming and prefects pulling the two away from each other before anyone got hurt—meaning, the bystanders who often got hit by stray hexes and jinxes. That being said, everyone knew better than to be in the way when Y/n Potter and Regulus Black were both in the same room. 
Platform nine and three quarters was bustling with students as it was every first of September. As a sixth year student, Y/n should've been used to it by now. But every time her eyes met with the scarlet steam engine train, she felt like a little first year, eager to learn magic on her own. Like every other student on the platform, her parents were fussing over her, making sure that she had everything that she needed for the whole term. 
“Yes, Mum. I have everything in my trunk, and yes I'll keep out of trouble. Honestly Mum, you should reserve this speech for Jamie. He's head boy, he can get away with everything now.” Y/n chuckled as her mother ruffled her hair. 
“Well, can I at least expect you to keep your brothers in line?” Euphemia asked her daughter, casting a look at James and Sirius—who is now an honorary Potter since Christmas of 1976.
“You know Jamie and Sirius, Mum. They're bloody menaces.” 
“Language, young lady.” Fleamont chuckled, “But, you're right. Just….make sure they won't do anything reckless?” 
“I'll try, Dad. But I'm not liable for anything.” Y/n giggled as she hugged her mother. 
“James! Sirius!” Euphemia called for her sons, “Take care of your sister, alright? It's your final year with her.” 
“Of course, Mum! I'll keep an eye out for tiny Potter.” Sirius chuckled as he put his arm around Y/n, earning a glare from the petite witch. 
“Yeah, we'll make sure no one messes with my baby sister. Any boy who'll ask her out will go through us.” James grinned at his little sister, who rolled her eyes at him. 
“Honestly, Jamie.” Y/n shook her head. 
“No boyfriends until you're thirty, baby sis.” James smirked. 
“James, let your sister have some fun.” Euphemia chuckled as tried to flatten James' hair, which didn't make any difference. 
“I agree with James. No boyfriends for you until you're thirty years old, my little angel.” Fleamont hugged his daughter tightly. 
“Let the girl live, Monty. She won't be a little girl forever.” Euphemia glared at her husband, “You too, James, Sirius.” 
“Fine.” All three men huffed, earning a giggle from both women. 
“Go on, my darlings. Get on the train,” Euphema chuckled, wrapping her arm around her husband's waist,  “be sure to write!” 
The Potter siblings along with Sirius stepped onto the train, waving at their parents as the train departed. The trio then walked to their compartment, which the Marauders claimed at the end of their second year. 
“Hey Moony.” Y/n smiled as she entered the compartment, “Where's Pete?“
“Not sure,” Remus shrugged, “Haven't seen him yet.” 
“I bet he's with that Hufflepuff bird.” Sirius said as he sat across Remus, “Wormtail's been pining after the girl for a year.” 
“Well, if he is with her, good for him. He got the girl, unlike Jamie here.” Y/n chuckled, sitting beside Remus. 
James rolled his eyes at his sister as he sat beside Sirius, “Mark my words, Evans will be mine by the end of the year.” 
“Yeah, yeah, Prongsie. You've been telling us that for the last six years.” 
“Good luck, Jamie. You're gonna need it more than ever.” Y/n giggled, patting her brother on his cheek.   
“Evans will love me, I just know it.” James sighed contentedly.
“Yuck,” Sirius playfully cringed, “You look like a lovesick puppy again.” Y/n burst out laughing, almost falling out of her seat. 
“I hate you guys.” James huffed playfully.
“You love us.” Sirius grinned cheekily. 
“You boys go ahead and talk…..boy stuff. I'm going to find Lily before the Head's meeting.” Y/n said as she got up, fixing the muggle clothes, flattening out any wrinkles, making sure she looked a bit presentable. “I'll be back in a bit.” she smiled at the boys before stepping out of the compartment. 
“Pitch in a good word about me to Evans!” James yelled from behind her. Y/n kept on walking, a smile on her lips. Her brother was hopelessly in love with the feisty redhead, Lily Evans.
Y/n walked down the long corridor of the train, scanning each compartment for her  red-headed best friend. Suddenly, the smell of sea salt, eucalyptus, sandalwood, and firewhiskey invaded her nostrils, and before she was even aware of its presence, Y/n collided with something hard. 
“You should watch where you're going, Potter.” His voice was as deep as the atlantic and emerald eyes locked into her hazel ones, as if he was staring into her soul. It was Regulus Black, the person she hated the most. Despite hating the Slytherin, Y/n couldn't help but notice changes in him. He didn't look like that boy who pushed her aside years ago. Y/n would be daft if she didn't admit that Regulus Black was drop dead gorgeous. His hair was much shorter than what she last saw, his curls framed his face better unlike the slicked back style he wore for the past five years. He looked like Sirius, though Regulus' aristocratic features were more defined—his jawline sharper than his older brother. The only thing left from the boy was his perpetual scowl. 
Y/n scoffed, snapping out of her thoughts, “You bumped into me, Black.” 
“Still not paying attention where you're going huh, Potter? Strutting around like you're some kind of goddess.” He sneered, looking her up and down.
“I do not strut, Black.” Y/n snapped. 
“Oh, but you do, my dearest Potter.” Regulus spat as he glared at the smaller witch in front of him.
“You, you, pompous, arrogant git!” 
“Ah, we're back to the petty insults?” He smirked, “Of course, it's practically tradition at this point.” 
“You insufferable prat,” Y/n spat, “get out of my bloody way.’’ 
“Gladly.” He pushed past the little witch, shoving her slightly to the side. 
Y/n let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. She then stormed back to the compartment, Lily would have to wait. As soon as she opened the doors, she immediately sat beside her brother, in an effort to calm herself down. 
“What's got your knickers in a twist, tiny Potter?” Sirius asked tentatively. 
Y/n shot him a dirty look before sighing, “Your fucking brother.”
“Just ignore him, Y/n.” Remus sighed, closing his book. “He's not worth it.” 
“What did he do this time?” Sirius snickered while James snorted. Y/n didn't understand they found her misery funny. Every time that Y/N complained about the younger Black, they'd find a way to make it hilarious. 
“He bumped into me, again. Told me I was strutting!” Y/n huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 
“Reggie is a prat, tiny Potter. He's mummy's little boy, a spoiled git at best.” Sirius laughed.
“I don't care. If he crosses me again, I'm going to break his pretty little face.” 
Remus raised a brow, “Oh, so you think he's pretty?”
Y/n's eyes widened, “W-what? No! I don't think—”
Sirius smirked, “Pretty face, huh?” 
“He looks like you, Padfoot! Of course, he has a pretty face.” Y/n insisted, her cheeks flushing. 
“Oi, quit teasing my sister.” James huffed, “She doesn't fancy your brother, Pads. Y/n/n despises him, more than we hate Snivellus.” 
“Well, the blush on her cheeks says otherwise, Prongsie.” Sirius chuckled.
“I do not and will never fancy Regulus Black!” Y/n snapped, shooting a threatening glare at Sirius. 
Regulus Black was the leader of the prats, according to Y/n Potter. It was nothing new, for everyone else, seeing them bicker almost every day. There was no way in hell that Y/n would like him, she would rather drown in the black lake. He was an insufferable git for all the years that Y/n knew him and she'd rather punch him in the face. 
“Enough of that,” James stood up, offering his hand out to Y/n. “We need to get to the prefect's carriage.” Y/n's scowl turned into a bright smile. “Oh, right! I'll just go and change into my robes. Now, all of you, get out.” James and Remus chuckled, while Sirius pouted, “Oh come on, tiny Potter, grace my eyes-” James hit him on the head, “Pervert.” 
The trio stepped out of the compartment, giving the younger witch privacy. After a few minutes, Y/n stepped out wearing her Gryffindor robes with a shiny prefect badge pinned onto the left side robes. 
“Authority looks good on you, Y/n,” Sirius grinned, “You can boss me around and I'd-” 
“My sister, Padfoot!” James growled. 
“Oh please, Prongsie, can't blame me for appreciating tiny Potter's beauty.” Sirius smirked, earning him a smack on the head from a protective James Potter. 
Y/n rolled her eyes at the sight of a pouting Sirius Black, before she took hold of Remus' hand. “Take me away from the idiots, please.” she chuckled, tugging on his arm. 
Remus chuckled, “Gladly.” 
The walk to the Prefects carriage was in perfect silence—aside from the huffing from Sirius, which Y/n chose to ignore. Remus had been a Prefect since his fifth year, along with Lily Evans. Y/n had been made a prefect as replacement for Lily, who is currently taking up the post of Head Girl. Y/n was ecstatic when she received her badge, she had been dreaming of becoming a Prefect since she was a first year—much like her friend, Lily. As soon as they approached the carriage, Y/n stepped aside, allowing Remus to open the door for her.
“Such a gentleman.” Y/n chuckled as she walked in first, James following her and finally Remus. Sirius stayed back, flirting with fifth year Ravenclaws. 
Y/n looked around, scanning the faces of each appointed Prefect. There was Alice Fortescue and Frank Longbottom, the other two prefects from Gryffindor. Florence Bell, Amaryllis Abbott, Francis Fawley and Christopher Gideon from Hufflepuff. Emmeline Vance, Julia Boot, Gilderoy Lockhart, and Dirk Creswell from Ravenclaw. And finally her eyes landed on a certain Slytherin. Regulus Black was standing besides Severus Snape, Pandora Rosier, and Dorcas Meadowes. Regulus Black had his lips curled into a sneer as his eyes settled on her. Y/n scowled at him and walked to the furthest seat away from the younger Black, Remus trailing behind her. 
“Why the hell is Potter here?” Severus Snape sneered at James. Y/n smiled cheekily, knowing that it would rile him up. “Which one?” 
“You know what I mean, Potter.” Snape sneered.
“Oh, you didn't know?” Y/n smirked, feigning innocence. “Jamie's Head Boy.” Snape scowled, but kept his mouth shut when Lily Evans glared at him. The redhead sighed, before muttering, “This is going to be a long year.” 
“Patrols will be done as pairs. Professor McGonagall is aiming for unity between houses, meaning each pair shall be from different houses. Here is a list of the pairs,” Lily smiled, passing one parchment to a Hufflepuff prefect on the right and the other to a Ravenclaw prefect on the left, “please note that these pairings were chosen by Professor McGonagall. I had nothing to do with this, same with the Head Boy.”
“I hope I'm partnered with you, Moony.” Y/n smiled, playfully nudging the older boy beside her. “You and me both, Y/n.” Remus chuckled, ruffling her hair. 
“Here you go.’’ The fifth year Ravenclaw smiled brightly, passing the parchment to Y/n. Muttering a quick 'thank you', she grabbed the piece of parchment, scanning it for her name.
Remus Lupin and Florence Bell
Amaryllis Abbott and Gilderoy Lockhart
Dirk Cresswell and Pandora Rosier
Severus Snape and Julia Boot
Francis Fawley and Alice Fortescue
Frank Longbottom and Emmeline Vance
Christopher Gideon and Dorcas Meadowes
Regulus Black and Y/n Potter
Y/n's eyes widened, “Oh, no, no, no.” Her hands gripped the parchment in horror. Her partner was none other than Regulus Black. 
“Who'd you get partnered with, baby sis?” James asked as he approached his sister with a warm smile, wrapping his arm over her shoulder. He peeked over the parchment, eyes widening at the name beside his sister's name. A teasing grin spread across his lips, “Good luck, you're gonna need it, more than ever.” James chuckled, using his sister's words against her. 
Y/n wanted to hit her brother, but she stood frozen, her eyes glued to the parchment in her hands. She let out a shaky exhale, before her eyes darted across the room, locking with emerald green that belonged to Regulus Black. 
“Please, please, try to remember that you all are Prefects. And as Prefects, you are not only representing your own respective Houses but the whole school in general as well. Please do not abuse the authority bestowed upon you, being biased shouldn't be taken into your duties as Prefects.” Lily informed with a pleading look in her eyes as her gaze turned to the Slytherin prefects. She took a deep breath before turning back to face everyone else. “I know the previous Head Girl and Boy were a little…..nonchalant in terms of being authoritative figures, which frankly in my opinion, is utterly careless, having multiple bullying cases from last year. I fully plan on making sure each and every one of you are treated fairly, none of those biased opinions.” Lily turned to James, who was making his way towards her after clapping his sister on the back. He ran a hand through his hair, making it messier as it regularly was. He stood right beside the redhead, flashing her a grin, which Lily rolled her eyes at. “As Head Boy, Potter, do you have anything else you'd like to add?” 
“Please, just try to be civil with one another, despite who your partners are, alright? They will be your partners for the whole year, better not start on the wrong foot, yeah?” 
Lily clapped her hands, “Now that we have the patrol partners settled, please go to your respective partners. As part of the Inter-house unity, you must get to know one another.”
Y/n did not want to spend her nights for the whole year with Regulus Black. She would rather jump off the astronomy tower, than be his partner for the whole year. As everyone walked up to their respective partners, Regulus Black and Y/n Potter stood still in their places. Y/n had her arms crossed over her chest as she blatantly refused to walk up to Regulus, much to Lily's annoyance. 
“If you two don't get your stubborn arses together right now, I will body bind the both of you together.” Lily threatened with a sickening sweet voice that made Y/n wince. 
Y/n huffed, before walking towards Regulus. She stood beside him, still making sure there was enough distance between them. The two stood in silence, not bothering to look at one another. 
“Oh, for the love of God.” Lily muttered as she saw Y/n and Regulus standing back to back. “Talk!” she yelled, making Y/n jump. She rolled her eyes, before turning to face Regulus, who was smirking at her. 
“What the fuck are you smirking at?” 
“So hostile, Potter.” Regulus rolled his eyes, “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” 
“Arrogant git.” 
“Annoying bitch.” 
Y/n gasped, “You did not just call me a bitch!” 
“You started it, Potter. Don't act so offended.” Regulus smirked. Y/n scowled at him, wanting to punch the smug look on his face. 
“I hate you.” Y/n spat.
“Glad the feeling's mutual, Potter.”
After a few more reminders from Lily, the meeting finally ended—much to the pleasure of Y/n Potter. One by one, the Prefects stepped out of the room. Leaving Lily, James, Y/n, Remus, a sneering Severus Snape, and Regulus Black, of all people. 
"It's preposterous that after everything you've done over the last six years, Potter, the old codger made you, of all students, Head Boy.” 
Y/n's head immediately snapped at his direction, “You honestly thought it would be you, Snivellus?” Y/n laughed humorlessly, “Don't make us all laugh, you greasy git.” 
Snape clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing at the female Potter, stepping towards her. “No one asked you for your opinion, Potter.” Snape spat, “You're just as insufferable as your brother.”
“For your information, Snivellus, my brother deserved getting appointed as Head Boy. Have you seen him lead the Gryffindor quidditch team into victory? Oh wait,” Y/n feigned ignorance, “everyone else in Slytherin were too busy complaining about losing every single year to even see Gryffindor's talent.” Y/n spat, glaring daggers at Snape who in turn snarled at her, stepping forward into Y/n's personal space. As expected, Remus instinctively stepped beside Y/n, ready to protect the youngest Potter from Snape. Lily tried to step in, but Y/n's threatening low vice stopped her tracks, making her sigh and shake her head—though still on her guard, gripping her wand in case. 
“If you don't get out of my personal space, Snape, I will make sure you'll regret being born.” 
James, who strangely didn't come to his sister's rescue and kept calm despite what was happening, cleared his throat loudly. “If you don't mind, Snape,” James stood beside Lily, “Evans and I have work to do.”
Snape scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Drop the act, Potter.”
“I'm just doing my job and trying to get through it without causing a problem.” James insisted calmly—which was hard enough to say the least. 
“He doesn't deserve that badge, and you know it!” Snape spat angrily.
Snape turned to his former best friend, “Lily, you can't possibly  think he's changed!”
The redhead rolled her eyes, before standing up straight and walking up to James. “Please excuse us, Snape. We have jobs to finish before we arrive at Hogwarts.” Lily said flatly. 
“One more word about my brother I swear to Merlin-” 
“Or what?” Snape taunted, glaring at the little witch in front of him. 
“I'm going to shove your wand far up your arse until it comes out your abnormally large ugly nose!”
“Back down, Snape.” Regulus Black's icy tone echoed in their ears, their heads snapping towards him. Snape scowled, “You can't possibly be defending Potter.”
“I am not defending anyone, I'm doing my duty as Prefect. Evans,” he jerked his head towards the redhead witch, “has made it clear that biased opinions are not to be brought in situations like….this.”
Snape scoffed, “Potter's being a bitch! You can't-”
“I said back down, Snape!” Regulus hissed, “If you cannot be civil, take your objections to McGonagall or Dumbledore! You are acting like a child.” He growled at the older Slytherin, his green eyes flashing with annoyance. 
Lily, James, and Remus fell silent. Did Regulus Black really defend Y/n? Meanwhile, Y/nbscowled at the two Slytherins—not paying attention to the door that suddenly opened. Sirius poked his head in, a grin plastered on his face. 
“Wow, the air here is thick.” Sirius eyed his friends, before his gaze fell on his brother—he scowled, before quickly looking away before anyone could notice.
“Anybody got a knife?” Sirius said cheekily, which made his friends plus Lily groan. “One can easily cut the tension with it.”
@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @thebetawolfgirl @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif
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mamaestapa · 3 months
Note
fluffy christmas morning with yoshi opening presents and watching movies ???
A Christmas Story|| Andrei Iosivas x reader
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•pairing: Andrei Iosvias x reader
•summary: Spending a sweet Christmas morning with Yoshi
•warnings: none, just fluff
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“Alright pretty girl,” Andrei said as he plopped down on the couch beside you, smiling as he looked at the matching pajama bottoms you wore, “you ready for your gifts?”
“Of course I am,” you said happily as you beamed at your fiancée, “are you?”
“Always.”
He leaned in and pecked your puckered lips, your nose scrunching up when he pulled away from you and smiled sweetly. Christmas morning with Andrei was always so special. You’ve been together for four years now, each year spending Christmas or Christmas Eve with each other’s families. However this year was different. You and Andrei got engaged in June, bought your own place in Cincinnati just a few miles from Paycor stadium in September, and now you were spending your first Christmas by yourselves in your own home.
The two of you were so excited to get to spend the holidays by yourselves this year now that you’re engaged.
You and Andrei took turns opening your presents from eachother, both of you being extremely grateful for all of the thought that was put into every gift. You had gotten Andrei a new pair of bose headphones, a chain with the number 80 on it, and his favorite cologne. Andrei got you a custom Bengals denim jacket that said “Mrs. Iosivas” on the back, a new kate spade hand bag, a black pair of Jimmy Choo pumps, and your favorite perfume.
After opening each gift, the two of you took turns taking pictures of the other holding up their gifts.
When Andrei opened the jewelry box that held his diamond 80 chain you swore you’ve never seen him smile that big before. He held up the necklace and grinned widely as you took a picture of him.
“Baby,” he gasped, looking at you with a smile, “I love this!” You chuckled softly at your fiancee. You loved how Andrei’s face lit up like he was a kid again each year on Christmas.
Andrei leaned in and gave you a sweet kiss. You hummed contently as he pulled away. “I can’t wait to wear this on game days. Thank you baby.”
“Of course,” you smiled, “I’m glad you love it.”
After opening your gifts and thanking each other many times, you cleaned up the wrapping paper as Andrei took the breakfast casserole you had prepared the night before, out of the oven. He scooped two large spoonfuls onto the plates in front of him, one for him and one for you. Andrei topped off your coffee cups before bringing the plates of breakfast back out to the living room.
“For you,” he said softly as he handed you one of the plates. You thanked Andrei sweetly as he sat down next you. “This looks delicious.”
You took a bite of the casserole, letting out a soft moan as the mixture of egg, bacon, potatoes, and cheese hit your tastebuds. “It’s very good babe,” you praised Andrei, who just chuckled as you continued, “who knew you could play football and cook.”
“Hey, I can’t take all the credit,” he poked your thigh with the back of his fork, “you helped me too.”
The two of you laughed as you went back to enjoying each other’s company and the delicious breakfast. As you ate your food and sipped on your coffee, Andrei turned on your favorite movie that played all day Christmas day—A Christmas Story. After finishing your breakfast you cuddled into Andrei’s side and laughed along with him as the two of you watched the classic Christmas movie.
Andrei stroked your arm softly as he placed a gentle kiss to your temple, “Merry Christmas beautiful.” You hummed softly as you snuggled further into your fiancé’s touch, “Merry Christmas Yoshi, I love you.”
“I love you more Mrs. Yoshi.” He teased, making you grin widely. He was such a tease, and you loved it. You brought your hand up to his chest, letting it rest there as you spent the rest of the morning on the couch watching your favorite Christmas movies.
Your first Christmas morning with Andrei in your new home was definitely a success.
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hi loves!
my first ever blurb about yoshi! i hope you all liked it. i thought it was a cute idea🤍 i’m sorry i wasn’t able to get this out yesterday (or earlier today), i just got so busy on vacation lol.
i hope you all had a wonderful christmas. as always, thank you for reading and supporting me and my work! i love you all🫂🤍
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sunshine-theseus · 5 months
Text
Angel In Disguise | Esme Morgan x Reader
Word count: 2k
Summary: life’s hard when all your students prefer your footballer partner over you.
Warnings: fluff, children? idk how the English school timeline works and the Australian one doesn’t match up with the story so I’m just saying school starts in like September and ends in late May??
Request for: @wlwskyy i hope this is good! it's probably not as good as I hoped but i'm still pretty happy with it
Being a primary school teacher was hard. Trying to help students who struggle with the content while also helping others progress. Being strict while also wanting to be fun. My biggest struggle though, was a very me specific one.
Esme Morgan loves to visit me or help me out at school from time to time, and just like everyone else she meets, the kids fall in love with her. From the first time they meet her, they’re begging me to bring her back.
“Ms L/n it’s so cool you’re dating a footballer! Can you bring her back tomorrow? And the day after that and the day after that one until forever?” and once they realise that she actually has her own job to do, they beg I bring her in at least once a term.
It was my first year teaching after university, the first time she’d come to work, and it had been a complete surprise.
After she broke her leg in 2021, Esme struggled to fill her time. She’d made about 27 bracelets in the first 3 days, then tried to bake a little, although it went rather poorly. She then watched all the original Disney movies in release order. I think she got to Mulan II before she decided enough was enough.
I was in the middle of teaching the times tables when there was a light knock on the door. I could see her cheeky smile through the small pane of glass and rushed to open it for her. Esme stumbles through the door, her moon boot and crutches making it difficult for her to fit through the rather narrow frame.
She pecks me on the lips and the room erupts in childish giggles. Romantic affection was something so foreign to 8 and 9 year olds.
“Es… what are you doing here?” I whisper as I pull a chair for her sit on.
“I got bored, and I miss yoouu.” She smiles up at me and I can’t help but smile back.
“Oh! And I brought gifts for the kiddos!” she holds out a paper bag and I peak inside.
My heart melts at the pile of hand-crafted bracelets, ranging in colour and design, that fill a significant proportion of the bag.
She spent the rest of the day surrounded by my class. Eventually I had to stop teaching because they were so in love with this angelic limping figure who brough them friendship bracelets. I don’t think Esme prepared for them all to assume she was every single one of their best friends.
~~~~~
It was nearly Christmas break when she first met my class for this year, and everyone knew who she was. For the first time, I didn’t have to introduce her or tell them what she does for them to get hyped.
“I WATCHED YOU IN THAT FOOTBALL THING” and other similar phrases are shouted many times when she enters the room.
When I looked at her it was hard not to smile. She was playing and talking with kids and giving them all little bracelets, just like she does every year.
As she was crouched in front of a small group who were excitedly asking her questions, Marley, a rather shy and quiet girl, walked up to Esme and lightly tapped her shoulder. She fiddles with her fingers and avoids looking at anyone as she waits.
“Excuse me Mrs Esme?” Esme is already smiling when she turns to look at Marley.
“Hey kiddo!”
“Um you’re my favourite player of all time. I watch all your games and wanna grow up and play just like you.” And Esme’s smile grew bigger, something I wasn’t sure was possible.
“That’s so cool! Can I give you a hug?” Marley nods and giggles into the embrace, and then they begin to talk about Marley’s interest in football and Esme’s work.
I’d been struggling to get her to talk for 2 months, and Es came in and got her to talk within minutes, but I can’t stop staring lovingly at the angel of a woman in front of me. There was a part of myself I saw in Marley. I’d struggled to be very open for a long time until I met Esme. She just had this gentle, caring nature that was hard to ignore.
-
Marley misses her the most between visits. They’d made a secret handshake and love to chat and giggle on the oval at lunch, kicking the ball around.
In between visits Esme and Marley both interchangeably would give me something to give the other; a bracelet or a packet of lollies or a flower they found randomly. It was so hard for me to not burst from how cute their friendship was.
It had changed Es as well. Obviously, she has always been welcoming and warm-hearted but she’d become more confident about her play and sometimes I would catch her bragging to her teammates.
“I’m Marley’s favourite player!” it took them a while to realise who Marley was, but they found it adorable.
-
We’re in our last week for the school year, just in time for Esme to make one more surprise appearance before she has leave for camp for the France Olympics. I’d told the kids she wasn’t sure if she would have time to make it between finishing up the season and preparing for the Olympics, but that didn’t stop them from begging me to bring her in.
It’s the last day, everyone already buzzing for their long holiday, and admittedly from the lollies I gave them. I always try to make the last day super fun, activities and music and a surprise guest.
By midday I’d already had to apologise that Esme couldn’t make it. 17 times and counting.
And by 1, there was a knock on the door. A knock the kids were all too familiar with, and Esme rushes into the room, kids swarming her from all angles.
“Hey kiddos!”
“Hey pretty lady” she turns to me and kisses me quickly. Gags and loud ‘ewww!’s echo out.
Marley waits patiently with a small bag in her hand, still considerably shy. Esme wastes no time in getting to the young girl, with a similar bag in hand.
“Hey Mar! I got you a little something.” Esme hands the bag over, and everyone watches carefully as she pulls out whatever lays inside.
I see the familiar light blue peak out, and recognise the jersey design I sport most weekends. The present is clear when Marley starts jumping up and down in excitement.
“It’s one of my spares so don’t tell Gareth, ok? I got all the girls to sign it.” Marley is wrapped around Esme before she can finish the sentence.
“Thank you!” she scrambles to put her bag in Esme’s hands before tugging the shirt over her head.
I nearly scream when I see Esme pull out a black and purple jersey, colours I know from all the pictures Marley shows me of her games, usually with a trophy in her hands. Her last name and the number 14 adorn the back with a tiny ‘Marley’ in black sharpie on the ‘1’.
“Oh my god Marley this is so cool! I’m going to keep this forever. In a few years time I’m going to see you playing for England and know I got the first ever Marley jersey and signature. And of course you’ll play for Manchester City yeah?” the little girl eagerly nods her head.
-
The day goes on and the kids go home for the last time. Esme leaves after an hour of helping me pack up the classroom, to start dinner and I don’t finish until 5:30.
By the time I pull into the driveway, I’m exhausted, but satisfied with my work for the year.
I leave most of my gear in the car to unpack another day and walk to the door. I struggle to open it for a moment but when I do, I’m hit by the smell of my favourite meal cooking and the sound of Esme singing, albeit not well.
I drag my feet into the kitchen and wrap my arms around my wife, kissing her back as I just rest against her.
“Hello my love.”
“Hey sunshine.” I pause for a moment.
“You’re so good with kids.” She hums as she turns the stove off.
“And you helped Marley so much.”
“She’s a good kid, it’s hard not to like her.” I pull away and reach up to kiss her on the cheek before looking for the small gift bag.
“What are you doing?” Esme questions as she begins to plate to the food
“Well we have to measure Marley’s shirt for a frame so we can hang it up don’t we? I want to be able to boast to the world in like 8 years time about how I taught her and how we have her first ever signature.” I poke her in the side as I grab my plate.
“Well how about we do that tomorrow? I just want to cuddle with you tonight before we have to pack and get ready for camp.” I let out a loud groan.
“I can’t believe you’re taking me to France, and we’ll barely be able to do any of that gross romantic shit together.” Esme smiles down at me, regret floating behind her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Noo I’m so excited I just think they’re cruel for making players do their job or whatever.” I jokingly roll my eyes before I lean back into her on the couch, both our plates sat in our laps.
“I promise to take you to that restaurant on the top of the Eiffel Tower before we leave.” She kisses my forehead.
~~~~~
“This is light work for the defender, tapping the ball passed Courtney Nevin and chipping it passed the Australian goalkeeper! IT’S A GOAL FOR ENGLAND AND THEY FIND AN EQUALISER IN THE OLYMPIC FINALS!”
I cheer at the goal with the rest of the stadium, hugging the small girl next to me as she bounces in excitement.
“Did you see that mumma? She scored! Mar Mar scored!” Reese shouts over everyone else.
“I did! It was amazing, wasn’t it?”
When the game ends, I pick Reese up and we rush down to the pitch with the other family members, celebrating as we make our way. It takes us a few minutes to spot the players we’re looking for but when Reese points them out, I put her down and she runs toward them without a single thought.
“Congratulations!” I pull Esme into a kiss before turning to Marley. The 16-year-old smiled brightly at me before hugging me tightly.
“Your goal was fucking phenomenal Marley! They should make you a striker.”
“But then she wouldn’t be just like her favourite player” Esme buts in, our daughter falling asleep on her hip. We all laugh and continue to talk with the other girls and celebrate until we decide to head back to the hotel to put Reese to bed.
“I’m so proud of how far you’ve come you know?” I pull Marley into my side as we wait for the elevator.
“From ‘shy little 8 year old who refused to talk to her teacher’ to ‘number 14; defender and debut scorer for her country at the 2032 Olympics at 16 years old’.”
“And one of the youngest and best signings for Man City!” Esme chimes in
“Thank you for always believing in me.”
After we say goodnight to Marley and make sure Reese is definitely asleep, I climb into bed with Esme.
“You’re so amazing.” I stare at her. Sometimes I don’t understand how I was blessed with such a kind-hearted, gentle woman.
“I try.” We break out in giggles and I slap her lightly on the shoulder.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” we don’t say anything else.
She kisses me hard before I rest my head on her chest, her arm wrapping around me as we fall asleep. She’s my angel in disguise.
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nolita-fairytale · 8 months
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POV: it’s a saturday morning in september and you’re marrying carmen berzatto | carmy x fem!reader | a teaser for chapter three of 'don't want to walk alone'
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** images do not convey face claims, reader character details or race. They were chosen for the energy/storytelling/overall vibe of the moodboard.
*
“Baby.”
Carmy groans in response, as soon as he hears the low hum of your voice. 
“Good morning,” you say, a soft smile on your face as you watch him begin to blink his eyes open. 
Carmy turns his head towards you, and he can’t believe he gets to wake up to this – to you – every single day. 
“Hey,” he says back, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “Good Morning, sweetheart.” 
“Guess what?” you ask him with the kind of glee and anticipation as a kid on Christmas morning. 
“Hmm?” he hums, as you smooth a hand over his chest, your body pressed against his side as you look at your soon-to-be husband. 
“We’re getting married today,” you grin, a giddiness that bubbles inside of you.
*
the chapter is now posted and you can read it here.
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muclunga · 8 months
Text
My theory/head-canon on how old Abed is
(Wasnt sure whether to label as head-canon or theory due to how this is mostly just a bunch of coincidences, in this essay i will-)
I believe his birthday is March 24th 1987, making him 22 years old at the beginning of season one.
Facts-
1. His birthday is March 24
2. Season one takes place in the fall of 2009
3. He had to help his dad in their falafel restaurant because post 9/11 racial-profiling was destroying the business
4. He grew up watching the 1964 Rankin Bass movie Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer every Christmas
5. Abed is older than Troy
6. Abed is younger than Britta
7. Dan Harmon, in the behind the scenes for the episode G.I. Jeff, cited Abed as being “too young” for the G.I. Joe episode to be centered around him
Why these matter-
1. See #4
2. See #5
3. Abed would’ve been 14 at the time, making him the youngest possible age he could legally work in a restaurant
4. Rankin Bass Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’s first, and earliest, home media release was on VHS in 1989. This would’ve made him two years old, closer to three years old by Christmas of ‘89, a very formative age and good time to start a tradition. One could argue that he and his mom watched it when it aired on tv but we see at the end of Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas that they are watching it on a VCR. It doesn’t seem like too much of a stretch as we see multiple times in the series that Abed has an extensive dvd/vhs collection
5. In Mixology Certification, Abed’s ID and being legally able to drink are not considered an issue, unlike Annie. He is seen legally drinking (presumably) in Communication Studies, making him at least 21. In the same episode, Jeff references the fact that Abed apparently doesn’t drink. This makes it sound that he can, but just choses not to.
6. Amongst other instances, in Investigative Journalism, Britta says “Vacations are wasted on the young” while referring to Troy and Abed.
7. In this Interview/Behind the scenes, Dan Harmon talks about how the plot came to be, “‘This must have something to do with Abed’s psychosis, why is Abed seeing things as 80’s G.I. Joe? Why would he do that? He’s a young fella.’ And that conversation led to ‘Why are we asking about Abed?’.” G.I Joe ran from September 12, 1983 –November 20, 1986. I personally don’t believe this rules out that he wasn’t born yet or that he never watched it, it’s more so Dan Harmon and the other writers being so adamant that this was before Abed’s time, to the point where they opted for Jeff instead, that makes it seem worth noting.
Anyway. That’s it. Just thought it was neat. But hey, that’s just a theory, a fILM THEO- *gunned down by firing squad*
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ladykailitha · 3 months
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The Magic of Christmas Part 4/8
Hello! How are you guys enjoying so far?
In this Steve realizes his feelings, Dustin and Robin decide Steve needs to live forever, and Steve gets roped into something he swore he'd never do.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
***
August was fucking miserable. Like the worst month of the year. After February. And January. And September...
That’s besides the point. The point was that AC had kicked the bucket in the middle of the biggest heatwave.
He was going to cry. The wizard piece turned out really well. Steve had loved all the little details that he had put in it.
But the rogue was giving him trouble. It was horrific. Because rogues were silent and mysterious, but the way Steve talked about Will, he was quiet kid, a bitchy teen, and a wild adult. Trying to figure his place in the world he kinda went punk. Dyed his hair bright green. Piercings and tattoos. Ripped clothes and combat boots.
Eddie slowly sat up. Well that’s a thought. He blinked for a moment. That could actually work.
Suddenly his phone rang. He frowned at the device. No one called anymore. It was all texts and DMs and Face Time. The name that came up because there was one, another surprising thing, was Steve.
He dived for the phone and managed to answer it before it went to voicemail.
“‘Ello?” he breathed.
“Hi, Eds,” Steve greeted cheerfully.
Eds.
Fuck.
The things that little nickname did to the butterflies in his stomach.
“Hey, Stevie!” he said back. “What can I do you for?”
“That article Nancy did is making some serious headway,” Steve explained. “I was wondering if you wanted to meet me for lunch to go over the details.”
Eddie laughed. “I was about to text you, darlin’. I have an idea for the rogue I wanted to float by you. So where to, my liege?”
“Monte Cruz, the Mexican place on 7th?” Steve asked.
It was a bit pricey, but it had the best fajitas Eddie had ever had. “Sure thing. 1pm okay?”
“Let me check,” Steve replied.
Eddie could hear him call Robin and while he couldn’t hear her response, Steve’s warm ‘thank you’ meant he was free.
“That’s perfect,” Steve said. “I’ll see you then.”
“Yeah.”
They hung up and Eddie laid on the floor staring up at the ceiling, holding his phone over his chest.
Fuck!
He got up and dashed to the bathroom to shower. He felt like he was covered in slime.
*
Steve was waiting for him on the terrace, a nice cool breeze rustling his hair. And Eddie couldn’t help but fall a little bit more.
Eddie waved and was far too pleased to get Steve’s little finger wave in return.
He sat down and grinned at Steve. “How is it cooler outside then in my loft?”
“Heat rises?” Steve suggested. cocking his head to the side.
Eddie laughed. “Well it’s the only thing that rising at this point. It’s so fucking hot.”
“I thought you’re loft had air conditioning,” Steve said with a frown.
“Apparently we worked it to extinction,” Eddie said mournfully.
Steve pulled out his phone. “Are you renting or paying a mortgage? I don’t remember what all we’re paying for.”
“Sadly, we own it,” Eddie said with a heavy sigh. “Otherwise I would have harassed a landlord to get it fixed.”
Steve hummed. “All right, I’ve messaged Robin. She’ll call around and get a technician come over tomorrow. It’ll go on my card if can be fixed or if it needs to be replaced.”
Eddie leaned back in his chair. “You don’t have to do that, man.”
Steve smiled at him. “Will the excess heat hurt your paintings?”
Eddie opened and closed his mouth a couple times before he threw his arms in the air. “Yes! Of course it will.”
“Then it’s a business expense and I’ll cover it.”
“I hate you,” Eddie said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You really, really don’t,” Steve murmured. “Now show me your idea for Will’s rogue.”
Eddie pulled out his drawing pad and flipped to the right page. He slid it over to Steve for him to see.
“Oh Eds,” Steve breathed. “It’s beautiful. He’ll love it.”
Eddie tried not to preen, but he couldn’t help it. “So I can go ahead and start painting?”
“Absolutely,” he replied. “Though maybe wait until after your cooler is fixed.”
Eddie threw his head back laughed. “I think you’re probably right.” He gently took the pad from Steve’s grip. “So what’s going on with the charity?”
Steve lit up. He started explaining about all the people interested opening would basically be franchises but that Eddie would still have full control of each branch.
“This is amazing, Stevie,” Eddie breathed. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“I’m happy to help,” Steve said with a grin. “It means that I get drive Dustin absolutely nuts with this whole charity thing. He’s been begging me forever to meet you.”
“I mean, you can invite him to one of our reeducation of Steve Harrington movie nights,” Eddie said, shoving his hair in his face bashfully. “If you wanted to.”
Steve smiled fondly. “That’s sweet of you. But I was thinking something that would absolutely flip their collective shit even more than a movie night. A Halloween one-shot.”
Eddie’s lips formed an O. His eyes sparkled and he grinned. “I know just the thing. It’s something my friends and I used to do in high school. You have these little half–not even half character sheets that have just the most basic of stats. The point is to die in the most epic way possible. There are rewards for stupidest death, most epic death, TPK. It’s lots of fun.”
“That sounds amazing!” Steve said. “Would you be willing to do it?”
Eddie leaned forward on the table. “On one condition.”
“Oh?”
“You join us,” he said with a grin. “You read the stats, you roll the dice, you die like a bitch, just like everyone else. You’d be on equal footing with the rest of the Party.”
“Can I think about it?” Steve asked shyly, ducking his head.
“Sure thing, big boy,” Eddie replied. “But let’s order lunch. I’m starving!”
Steve laughed. “Of course.”
*
Robin poked her head into his office and held up a leather folio. “Do you want to tell me what the hell this is?”
“Sorry,” Steve said, “I’m not Spider-man. I don’t have x-ray vision.”
“That’s Superman,” Robin replied with a huff, “and you’re dodging the question. You know full well what I’m talking about.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I really, really don’t. I haven’t done any even remotely outrageous in months.”
She walked up to his desk and slammed the folio on the desk. “Steven Kevin Harrington...”
“Not my middle name,” he sneered. “You know what it is. You have seen my birth certificate way more times than I have.”
Robin laughed. “But it’s so lame, so I make up ones that sound better.”
“Whatever, Robs,” he said with a huff of his own. “What has got you so twisted this time?”
She opened the folio and turned it around to face him. “You booked the Newfield for New Year’s eve.”
Steve smiled widely at her. “I told you I was going to. It’s hardly my fault you were making goo-goo eyes at Eddie’s agent at the time.”
Robin gasped. “I was not!” He raised a single eyebrow and she folded. “Yeah, all right, maybe.”
Steve sat up in his chair and scooted closer to her. “Look, before you start throwing accusations around about feelings and thinking with my dick, it’s for the charity. You know, the one we’re working on right now.”
Robin glared at him. “So it has nothing to do with him making goo-goo eyes at you?”
“He’s not!” he protested. “There’s no way. He can have anyone he wants, he’s not going to go for a stuffed shirt like me.”
Robin raised both her eyebrows. “You can’t actually believe that.”
“You saw his most recent video right?” Steve snapped. “The one where he ranted about how greedy businessmen destroying the environment?”
“Uh...” she said, “you mean the one where he especially called out billionaire businessmen and how smaller companies can change the face of the industry and then went on to list ten things that CEOs can do to change the world and all of them were things you did with Starcourt Ltd. That one?”
Steve blushed. “I guess I didn’t realize.”
“Look,” Robin said sitting down in one of the chairs, “I was wrong about a lot of things when you first hired Eddie for this job. About him, about you and your motives. So I get why you can’t take my advice on this, but he likes you. And more than just a friend.”
He ducked his head as the blush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears down the column of the throat. “Don’t go there, please.”
Robin held her hands up in surrender. “I won’t if you don’t want me to. All I’m saying is that if you think you’re falling for him, too…just know he probably feels the same.”
Steve licked his lips. “Yeah, okay.” Then he suddenly buried his head in his hands. “Fuck, I have to make a phone call.”
She raised an eyebrow.
He lifted his head and sighed heavily. “Looks like I’m going to be playing D&D after all.”
She laughed and laughed as Steve buried his head again.
The kids were never going to let him live this down.
*
“You’re sending my off for my last year as undergrad,” Dustin whined, “and you’re making me come back for fall break? Why?”
Steve was getting tired of this question. The only people who knew about Eddie DMing for them was Steve, Robin, and Eddie. And probably Chrissy. Oh and Claudia Henderson, Dustin’s mom. Which meant that all the other moms knew too.
All right, the conspiracy was bigger than Steve thought.
“Because it is your last year,” he said with a sigh. “You’ll be heading off to MIT next year and it’ll be harder for you to come home for the holidays.”
Dustin deflated. “Yeah, okay. So everyone will be home for Halloween?”
Steve brightened up. “Yep! I’m throwing a costume party with pizza and if you guys aren’t shitheads about it, I might even front for a wet bar.”
Dustin frowned. “What the fuck is a wet bar?”
Robin who had just come home, smacked him on the back of his head, knocking off his hat. “It means there will be booze, doofus.”
Dustin who had been about to yell at her for knocking off his hat, turned to Steve instead. “Seriously?”
“Yup! I’ve okay’ed it with all the parental units,” he said, “and I keep an eye on your intake to make sure you don’t get sick, they’re fine with it.”
Dustin launched himself at him and hugged him tight. “You’re the best, Steve!”
“There won’t be beer,” Steve warned. “It’s not the best drink to get started drinking on and bottles tend to hide how much you’ve been drinking.”
“Are they going to be spooky themed drinks?” Dustin asked.
Steve laughed. “Hell yeah, they are.” He ruffled Dustin’s hair. “Now go finish packing. I’m not going to let your mom do it for you this year. You’re an adult. Act like it.”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “God, you’re more mom like then my actual mom.”
Steve laughed. “If I got insulted every time one of you called me mom, I would’ve died of a heart attack years ago.”
Dustin hit him on the arm. “No talks of dying. You aren’t allowed. You have to live forever.”
Robin laughed. “Sure, just got to find that elixir of life somewhere.”
“Or the fountain of youth,” Dustin helpfully supplied.
“You could always invent something,” Steve suggested.
Dustin’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea!” He dashed off excitedly.
“Pack first!”
Robin laughed.
***
Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble
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cheemken · 7 months
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Bitch it’s not even September yet why do you guys have Christmas decorations up lmaoooo
Because owo
Four months of Christmas™🎄🎅🤶🦌❄️☃️
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Guile & Guilt (Ch. 03)
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AO3 Link
SEPTEMBER
“I’m not askin’ you to hang the moon, Johnny! I’m askin’ you to drive to Glencoe. I told you, I dinnae ken who made the appointment, but it cannae be changed. Please, just do this for me. I’m your sister.”
“Don’t pull that shite. I dinnae mind makin’ the wee drive to Glencoe, but I dinnae ken fuck all about cakes! I just got back from fuckin’ Faridah, didn’t I? What do I ken about fuckin’ buttercream? Tell your maid of honor to go. She’d pick a fine cake!”
“She is going! Haven’t you been listening, you eejit? You’re takin’ her with you. She’ll help you…” a pause, and then, “I know, I know. I’m sure you were gonna meet back up with Bekah, or Cherise, or Anjali, or -”
“Hey! Tha’s no’ fair. Take it back right now, or I’ll tan your hide.”
“Come on and try, boyo! All those wee military exercises and I’ll still have you whingin’ for mum like you did that one Christmas when -”
You knocked on the door, hoping to prevent fraternal bloodshed, and the voices stopped. A long pause stretched out into infinity. 
You had been standing on the porch of the MacTavish house for quite a long time. At first, seeing his Jeep in the driveway had kept you trapped in the cab, much to the cabbie’s chagrin. Over the past three months, you’d had plenty of thoughts about Johnny MacTavish and his sister. He had taken you home from the bar and put you to bed, but not in the way you might have thought, given his…reputation. The next morning, he was gone again. Pidge said they’d given him only two days away, and then he was back to Urzikstan to do whatever sandy, nasty job he had to do there. 
You’d been planning on leaving as well, needing to return to the endless slog of your studies, so you booked a train home. Back at your flat, you’d started overthinking and obsessing. 
How embarrassing was it that you’d gotten so drunk? He must think you’re such a loser! A girl who can’t even hold her alcohol. They all must think that about you. And now you have to do a whole wedding with them! You were never drinking again. Well, that resolution lasted about half a day, because when you started rehashing the feeling of being carried in his arms and the smell of whisky as it hung on his breath as he tucked you into his bed, you needed a fucking drink. 
So, wine in hand, you began to unpack.
You weren’t completely sure if it had been a drunken accident or not, but you found Johnny’s shirt in your bag, and you immediately felt a pang of regret. Perhaps you were a thief after all. You didn’t remember putting it in there. What else had you done that you didn’t remember? 
Damnit . 
You thought about it for a moment, but then you caved and you put on the shirt. You rationalized it, claiming you’d wash it. No big deal. 
But then, three months went by and you had found a small hole in the sleeve from overwearing it. 
“Fuck!” You lamented, fingering the threads as if it couldn’t be true. 
You were not a seamstress by any stretch of the imagination, but you threw a stitch in it and prayed he wouldn’t notice. 
Now, it was September, and he was back to attend the official MacTavish-Hamilton engagement party. You had planned to stay the whole week with Pidge, canceling your meetings and bringing your laptop with you. You had a chapter due next Wednesday, and it was crunch time. But now, apparently, you were going to Glencoe. 
With him. 
Alone. 
You knocked again, a little louder. The door creaked open and only Pidge greeted you over the threshold. 
“Hey, babes! Come in! We’re in the kitchen. Got loads to share. So much to do… Oy, your bags are so heavy! What did you bring in here, hen? Bricks?”
“Close,” you half-smiled, “Books.”
“Och, Jesus,” she struggled a bit and then dropped them in front of Johnny’s door unceremoniously. 
“Thanks, Pidge.”
She plodded into the kitchen, and you followed behind. As you rounded the corner, you saw him busying himself with the dishes, putting away cups and plates. The kettle was on, and in a few minutes, there’d be tea. He stopped as soon as he saw you, drying his hands on the striped tea towel and smiling at you. The grin didn’t quite meet his eyes, and his obvious disappointment with needing to babysit you for this Glencoe outing put a stake right through your heart. 
“So,” Pidge broke the news to you in front of her brother, “I know you were going to come with me to the dress fitting, but I double booked, and now the cake shop wants to do a wee tasting. I will owe you my literal first born if you go in my place, babes.”
You tried to act surprised,
“But, wasn’t I supposed to do a fitting as well?”
“Yeah, I told them the situation, and they booked you tomorrow bright and early. Please? Don’t let my fuckin’ brother pick out my wedding cake. It’d be chocolate on chocolate and nothin’ else.”
“What’s wrong with chocolate?” Johnny was indignant. 
Pidge gave him a warning look and then turned her attention back to you, 
“Will you pretend to be me for a day?”
The look in her eyes told you that an option for denial wasn’t even on the table, but the look in his as he gazed down at his white-knuckled grip on the counter, said there wasn’t room for anything but. 
You didn’t care what he thought (liar), and you were there for Pidge, not him.
“You know I will. They think I’m you?”
“Yes, and you need to sign for it as well. Bring back the receipt, if you would. God, you’re the absolute best.”
She kissed you on the cheek and grabbed her bag from the counter, turning to you once more before she walked out of the door,
“And don’t let this dafty give you any shite. If he’s not on his best behavior, I’ll injure him, so help me God.”
As she walked out of the house, Johnny rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys,
“C’mon, lass. It’s a trek, so we need to get petrol before we head out.”
“Sorry that you have to go with me,” you apologized, acknowledging his disdain. 
He smiled and shook his head, walking you out to his jeep. The top was off, along with the doors. You quickly braided your hair back, realizing it was about to be a wind-swept drive. 
“Not your fault, hen. My wee sister’s just plottin’ against me, that’s all. You ever been to the Three Sisters?”
“No,” you told him, “Not much of a hiker.”
You knew about the famed mountains, and you had heard of their stunning beauty, but you hadn’t had the opportunity to go north to see them for yourself. Without a personal car, it was hard to get out of the city much less to the mountains of Glen Coe. 
You climbed up into the Jeep, using the handle to hoist yourself inside. He jumped up into the driver’s seat with ease, pulling a pair of sunglasses down from the visor and shoving them onto his face. Johnny reached over you and into the glove compartment, digging around for a bit before handing you a matching pair. They were extremely sporty, and you were certain you looked ridiculous in them, but he made them look so stylish. 
“Here ya are, lass. Gonna be a long drive. We’ll go the scenic route. Cannae believe you’ve never seen the mountains. Tha’s a bloody crime.”
As you drove, he pointed out landmarks, good coffee shops to visit, and sang loudly to the radio (which was muffled by the roaring wind). He made you feel so at ease, and now that Pidge wasn’t lurking around every corner, you let yourself explore him with your eyes indulgently. You laughed at his jokes when they were funny, and smiled freely. Johnny was constantly talking to you when he wasn’t signing, asking about your work, about America, and about the places you’ve been while you were in his country. 
“Oh! I know you know this one! The Cranberries? C’mon, lass, don’t break my heart,” he turned up the song as far as it would go and watched you to see if you’d sing along. 
“Who doesn’t know this song?” You smiled, singing right along with him.
“…You know I'm such a fool for you. You got me wrapped around your finger…”
He smiled at you, pleased that you were playing along, practically screaming the lines.
By the time you’d made it through the gorgeous landscape to the base of the Three Sisters mountains, you were sore from laughing, and hoarse from singing, and you’d fallen head over heels for the handsome soldier again and again and again. 
Eventually, you made it to the town of Glencoe, and you pulled up your map on your phone, giving him directions to the bakery. He parked in the street. It was misting a little, and he helped you out of the Jeep to bring you under the awning of a small Nero cafe. You zoomed in on the map to get a better view, and he leaned over your shoulder to see it. 
He beamed,
“Aye, just ‘round the wee corner. And it’s right by the pub! Stop in for a pint after, what do you say, lass?”
“Only if we get out of there without arousing any suspicion. We have to convince them that we’re getting married.”
“Don’t worry about that. If you were my wee hen, I couldn’t keep my filthy paws off of ya. Havin’ a hard time now as it is,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, keeping up with his jokester attitude. 
“Easy does it, Hammie. I’m saving myself for the wedding night, you know?” You joked right along with him, playing coy.
“Dinnae worry your wee heid, lassie. I’ll take you to confession tomorrow, and all the sins of tonight will be washed away,” Johnny grabbed you by the hand and led you back into the street. 
He paused for a moment, looking down at you as your palms touched, fitting together like a glove, almost as if he had forgotten something. He shook the thought away and walked with you to the store in companionable silence.
When you arrived, he held the door open and let you step up into the warm, quiet bakery. All of the wind and the noise of the street disappeared in the little shop, and the smell of sugar overwhelmed your senses. You heard Johnny sigh, enjoying the smell himself. 
“Hello! Welcome to Stiff Peaks,” a cheery little grandmother of a woman greeted you from behind the counter.
Her earrings were tiny whisks, and she had a bit of flour on her cheek. She came out from behind the register and shook your hands, 
“You must be the Hamiltons, or I should say the future Hamiltons.”
“Yes ma’am,” you smiled, downplaying your American accent, “We’ve come to try your wedding cake offerings.”
“Of course, right this way.” 
She led you both down a tight corridor to the back room where a single two-person table waited for you. A black camera hung obviously in the corner. You eyed it when she wasn’t looking, and Johnny met your gaze, giving you a wink.
“Here you are, Pigeon, have a seat,” he held out your chair for you to sit down, adding a level of romantic gentlemanly affection that you were not expecting, kissing your neck from behind as you sat. 
The feeling of his lips sent a shock through your system. They were so soft and plush, and when he pulled away, you could feel the cold air rush across the wet spot he left behind. The sting of it tortured you, and you felt your cheeks flush. He saw them, and instead of ribbing you, he averted his eyes with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. 
“Och, you lovebirds,” the baker beamed, “Warms my heart, it does. I’ll be back in a spot.”
She was gone from the room, and you were about to make a comment to him, and then you remembered the camera. He was looking at it, too, and then he focused back on you. He spoke to you in a voice that was low and deep, a slow rumble that covered you like a fog, blocking out everything around you,
“Feeling alright, Pidge?”
“Just fine, mo chridhe,”   you used Hamish’s favorite nickname for Brigette, and smiled sweetly at Johnny, testing out your accent. 
He looked like he’d seen a ghost, but he recovered quickly, whispering, trying not to be heard by the camera,
“Do you know what that means?”
“Babe? I call you that all the time, babe.” You raised your eyebrows as the baker came back in, warning him.
He shook his head slowly, as if fighting making a comment, drinking down most of the water she had brought to the table. She also set down the first course of cake bites, one plate for each of you. 
“Okay, dearies, here is the first selection. We have the classic vanilla, Italian creme, lemon custard, and a black forest. These are less adventurous, and suitable for just about any wedding, no matter how formal. Gave you a pair of wee score cards there to keep up with your winners. I’ll leave you to it!”
You looked down at the scorecard and back up at the cakes. Johnny grabbed his and immediately crossed out the black forest and the lemon custard. 
“Hey!” You protested, “You haven’t even tried those. And, besides, Pid- uh, I love lemon!”
“Aye,” he cut his eyes at you, “You do love lemon, Pigeon. But, you’re the only one in the family who does. It’s out.”
“Well, I think you, Hamish, would balk at vanilla and Italian creme. Too pedestrian for a man of your exotic tastes, wouldn’t you say, mo chridhe?”
“Sure, mo mhèirleach, I’m an adventurous sort of man,” his tone turned darkly suggestive, “You ken that well enough, don’tcha?”
You felt his hand on your leg as he skated it up your thigh, giving it a hard squeeze, making you gasp. Just before you could chastise him, he cut you off, whispering in your ear,
“Careful, bonnie. Tha’s a sound I’ll like to hear again.”
You whispered back, too low even for him to hear - almost,
“Johnny…” 
He gave you a look that contained that same nameless emotion as when he first grabbed your hand outside in the street. You lingered there for longer than you should have, and you were interrupted by the baker.
“Annnnd…” She gave you both time to return to your seats politely, pretending like you hadn’t just been caught breathing each other’s air, “Here is the second round. How did we like the first set, lovebirds?”
You shrugged,
“They’re beautiful, but we’re looking for something a little more…”
“Sexy,” Johnny said in a matter-of-fact voice. 
You backhanded his chest, hard. 
“Hamish!”
The baker laughed,
“No, no! I get it! I agree. I think you’ll like these much more. Can I get you some more water, dearie?” She asked him.
“Aye, tapadh leibh.” Thank you . 
“Se do bheatha. An ann à Gleann Comhann a tha thu?” You’re welcome. Are you from Glencoe?
He shook his head, the only part of the conversation you could understand,
“Chan e, dìreach an seo a’ fheuchainn ri cèic a bruadar fhaighinn dha mo bhean bhrèagha.” No, just here trying to get my beautiful bride the cake of her dreams.
“Is urrainn dhomh innse dhut gu bheil thu dealasach.” I can tell you’re dedicated.
He laughed,
“Aye. Barrachd na thuig mi, tha mi a’ smaoineachadh.” More than I realized, I think.  
Then, the baker was gone. You whispered to him,
“What did you say to her?” 
“Just told her I’m allergic to almonds.”
 You searched his face to see if he was lying. You couldn’t tell.
“Are you?”
“No,” he smiled, looking down at his cue card. 
In the end, you went with the hummingbird cake and coconut creme filling, with a cinnamon cream cheese frosting. It was perfect for Pidge’s love of citrus, and adventurous enough for Hamish’s tastes. The baker left you with a bag of goodies; cookies, slices of the cake you selected, some macarons, and a copy of the contract.
“Thank you so much for having us. We can’t wait for the big day,” you shook her hand again and she smiled at you. 
“Of course, dearie. Looking forward to it. You two enjoy each other. The days go by so fast,” she winked. 
Johnny opened the door for you and let you out into the street again. 
“So, Mr. Hamilton,” you said, keeping up the charade a little longer, “About that pint…”
“Mmm,” Johnny grinned rakishly, “I have a better idea, lass.”
He took you back past the cafe and ducked into a Spar. He said he needed to pick up a bottle of scotch for one of his mates, an Oban 14-year, and while he was there, he grabbed two cold pint bottles of Caledonia cider from the refrigerated section. He loaded up the Jeep again, and you waited patiently in the passenger seat, thinking you were heading home. 
“You ready for your surprise, bonnie?”
“Surprise?”
He laughed, shoving his sunglasses back on and smiling as he turned off of the main road and onto a smaller lane. As you drove, the greenery became more verdant than ever. It was early September, so even though some of the leaves began to change colors, most of them retained their deep emerald hues. The branches and brush rushed by you, and from the open door of the Jeep, if you weren’t so afraid to lose a limb, you could have reached out and touched the leaves. Then, just as you rounded a corner, the hillside gave way to a stunning view. 
A valley stretched out before you, showcasing the high, sloping peaks of the Three Sisters. You’d seen them from the other highway, but this road made it seem like you had entered into another realm. Just when you thought you’d have to pass them by, Johnny pulled off the road into a small car park and shut down the engine. 
You got out, phone in hand, ready to take some photos. It was too beautiful not to, and if you were honest with yourself, you wanted to remember this day. 
“Well, go on then, get my good side,” you spotted Johnny over your shoulder on the screen.
He put his hand around your body and squeezed you in, making sure you were both framed in the screen. You took the selfie, and then he made a noise of discontent,
“Ahh, that won’t do. Another!” 
When you took this one, right as you reached for the button, he planted a kiss on your cheek. He pulled away and grabbed your phone out of your hands to look at it,
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
You watched as he texted it to himself, leaving his number in your phone as “Mo Chridhe”. 
“Is that how you spell it? I never would have guessed that,” you tried to keep your voice level, pretending like the cheek kiss hadn’t phased you.
“Yeah, we just keep all the other letters in there to confuse you foreigners,” he winked, “C’mon, bit of a walk.”
He pulled the bag of drinks from the back of the Jeep, shoved a towel in the sack, nicked the macarons from your goodie bag, and left everything else in the car. You followed him up the hill quite a ways, but it wasn’t an impossible climb. By the time you reached the top, however, you were out of breath. He kept going up, motioning for him to follow you, and you found yourself next to a shallow pool, no larger than a hottub, out of view of the highway. It was quiet, and none of the tourists had followed you up even half as high. You were very much alone together. 
He pulled off his shirt and glasses, tossing them on one of the towels, and went to shuck off his pants and boots. You raised your eyebrows,
“What are you doing?”
He looked up at you, knowing he was shocking you a bit,
“Braw days like this don’t come often. You heard the baker, yeah? The days go by fast. Live a little, mo mhèirleach.”
There was that nickname again. You vowed that you would look it up online later, if only you would be able to spell it. 
“Johnny, we can’t just swim here, surely. Someone will come and -”
“And what? Tell us to get out?”
He dunked his head under the clear pool and came back up for air, panting from the chill of the fresh water.
“I don’t have a swimsuit…” You put the bag of treats down and sat on the edge of the pool.
“Aren’tcha wearing any knickers, mhèirleach? Gods, say no, hen. Say no…” He swam up next to you to tease you some more. 
“I am!” You told him, and he gave you a look, rolling his eyes. 
“Well, go on, bonnie. I’ll even turn around, since you’re savin’ yourself for our wedding bed and all tha’.”
You laughed in disbelief, unsure of everything and yet going along with his plan anyway. You waited for him to avert his eyes before pulling off your pants and as you went to take off your top, you thought you saw him peek under his lashes, but he averted his gaze again so quickly, you couldn’t be sure. 
You dipped a foot into the pool. It was cool but not cold. You could stand it, but you wanted to complain a little anyway. 
“Jesus, it’s cold in here. Brr!” You feigned a shiver. 
“Och, c’mon, lassie. It’s no’ tha’ bad. Here. Have a wee seat by me, and I’ll get some drinks to warm us up.”
He popped the cap on the ciders using the edge of a rock, and handed you one. You drank it, savoring the dry, apple taste and soft fizz.
“There, mhèirleach. All better?”
You nodded, sitting next to him in the pool and laying your head back on the large stones, relaxing, taking in the view. It looked like something you would put on your laptop screen. It was unreal. 
“You made a pretty good Hamish today,” you complimented him.
“Spent a lot of my life pretending to be other people. Comes natural at this point, ye ken?” He stared off at the mountains with you, enjoying the view. 
“I’m sure you’re ready to be back in the action instead of tasting cakes with your sister’s American friend,” self-deprication was your bread and butter, so you offered it up to him to punish yourself with. 
“No,” he turned his eyes away from the grandeur and focused them on you, “What did Pidge tell you about me?”
“Well, she…”
“Ah ah, no. Don’t sugar-coat it.”
You sighed, looking into your cider for courage,
“She told me not to let you get too close. Said you’re a bit of a playboy.”
He laughed in a bitter way, taking a sip of his cider,
“Did she, now? And what do you believe, hen?”
You paused, not knowing what to say. So, you just told the truth,
“I think she’s probably right. I don’t know why she’d lie to me. And Bekah and Cherise -”
“Bekah and Cherise are full of shite. And so is my wee sister.”
He shook his head, clearly upset by your appraisal. You stayed silent, not knowing what to say. You decided to try to lighten the mood,
“Bet you take all the pretty girls to this spot, playboy.”
You elbowed him in the ribs, and he spun on you, quick as a shot. He grabbed your arm that had elbowed him and faced you, standing in front of you in the clear water. It rushed along his chest, moving around the plump muscles and dusting of chest hair, matting it against his skin. He smelled so much like oranges right then, and it was invading your senses. 
He ignored your attempt at a joke, and his face became serious instead,
“I ken why she kept you from me now. You’re off-limits. She knew how I’d feel. My sister knows me better than anyone, and I hate her for it.”
“Hate her?” You tried to understand what he was saying, but you didn’t pull away. His breath smelled like alcohol and apples and his eyes gleamed in the low light of the afternoon sun. 
“Well, not hate, maybe. But, she must’ve known. She had to.”
“Known what?” You knew what. Some animal part inside of you bared its teeth and warned you, but you asked it anyway. 
“She knew I’d like you.”
It was so quiet in your little secluded glade. 
He pressed his hands to the sides of your face, staring into your eyes, looking into them, his own eyes searching them for an answer to a question you couldn’t hear. 
You let him kiss you. You even kissed him back. He was cinnamon and apples and cake and sugar and tobacco and some other human taste that you chased and chased and chased. 
Then, you pulled away.
“We can’t. I…I promised.”
“Aye, as did I. But, she’s a hypocrite.”
“She’s my best friend.”
He looked into your eyes and saw your desperation there, knowing he’d won but surrendering anyway. 
Johnny let you go and finished his drink in a single gulp. He sat behind you, and you didn’t turn around. You felt him pull you into his lap to sit on the rough stone ledge, and he whispered,
“Tell me the sonnet you like, bonnie. You said you studied it.”
You tried to make excuses, not in the mood to show off,
“It’s not a very good one. A lot of people -”
“Say it for me. C’mon, lass. Just this once. I promise I’ll bring you back to your friend. But, just this once…”
You paused, feeling his arms wrap around you, not too tight, and nothing inappropriate, hugging you to himself platonically, waiting. You cleared your throat and tried to enunciate,
“Those lips that Love’s own hand did make, Breathed forth the sound that said ‘I hate’, To me that languished for her sake…
His fingers made little circles on your ribcage, rubbing your skin beneath the water. 
“But when she saw my woeful state, Straight in her heart did mercy come, Chiding that tongue that ever sweet Was used in giving gentle doom; And taught it thus anew to greet…”
You grabbed his hand with your own, lacing your fingers together like a tied knot.
“‘I hate’ she altered with an end, That followed it as gentle day, Doth follow night, who like a fiend From heaven to hell is flown away. ‘I hate’, from hate away she threw, And saved my life, saying ‘not you’.”
He let out the breath he’d been holding. You couldn’t breathe. Johnny MacTavish liked you, and you couldn’t do anything about it. 
“Thank you, mo mhèirleach. Time to take you back. Been away with the fairies too long, I ken.”
The drive back was quiet. You held hands through the mountains. You let go as you pulled into the driveway. Your bones ached. Your wet bra and panties were making you cold, and you had tangles in your wet hair from the drive. 
Johnny had left his phone in the Jeep cupholder, so you grabbed it along with the wet towels you had used. Pidge came out of the house to greet you and help with the bags, 
“Jesus! What happened to you two?”
“Caught in the rain. Here’s your contract, Pidgie. I need a shower,” he covered for you.
“Roger’s here,” she reported. 
Roger was Hamish’s younger brother, just a teenager. Johnny paused, looking at Pidge with a hard stare,
“And where’s he gonna sleep? We cannae put the lad on the floor, Bridgette.”
“You sleep on the floor then, you numpty,” she slapped his arm.
You interjected, torturing yourself,
“We can sleep in his bed. It’s not a big deal. It’s just for a few nights. Is that alright with you, Johnny?”
Pidge was standing between you, so she missed the pale face of fear plastered with Johnny’s open, shocked mouth.
“Shite, are you sure, babe? He snores like a bear.”
You nodded,
“No worries.”
“Johnny MacTavish, I swear on -”
“Go ‘way an’ bile your heid with that shite, Pigeon. I’m not in the mood to be your whippin’ boy.”
He walked into the house, leaving you outside with your best friend, just as he promised.
Something vibrated in your hands. It was Johnny’s phone. He had one missed call from Bekah, and as you were dismissing it, trying to close the lock screen, you saw her text pop up in the banner bar:
Ettrick’s for pints again, Soap? xx
You felt a cold shiver tremble through you as you followed Pidge inside.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Notes:
mo chridhe (moh HREE-yuh) - my heart mo mhèirleach (moh MER-lakh) - my thief
Chapter 04
128 notes · View notes
magolandandfriends · 2 months
Note
Hey Marx…how did you celebrate Christmas before you joined the circus group.
⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆ ⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆ ⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆
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(Good news! It’s my birthday :D I’m 19 now and there’s only 2 more Christmas asks I have to answer!)
(Bad news! I’m losing my Kirby hyperfixation for Minecraft story mode :D whoops how did that happen-)
(But HELLO HAI TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!2!2!2 I apologize for not getting much done over the month- sure it’s was more than last month but then again i feel like I should’ve gone back to a post per day but I didn’t :/ I think it might be because of art block/lack of motivation/losing hyperfixation but I don’t know-)
(Am I gonna keep on continuing it? Yes absolutely what do you take me for >:0 will I be super active? I don’t know- gonna be honest I might close the inbox I have too many asks in there (like 23 it’s draining me a little) I still have some from September and October and holy hell I feel so guilty for not catching up on any of my ask- or this blog- I have too many ideas but I have no motivation to get them out)
(I’m gonna try my best to keep this blog active and get as much info as I can out before I completely burn out- worst comes to worst I might go on hiatus/quit temporary I’ll make a post if I do take a break but until then expect random posts at random times)
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slvtforfiction · 3 months
Note
christmas headcanons with jake maybe ? x
Christmas with Jake
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☆ Christmas!!!! Merry Christmas x
☆ Thank you anon x
☆ Headcanons
☆ Fluff
☆ Masterlist
☆ Part 1
☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)
☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)
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☆ The sweetesttttt
☆ Doesn’t give to receive
☆ He believes that it’s the thought that counts,doesn’t mind if you only get him something hand made,he’s just happy you thought of him
☆ Christmas is fairly important to him and one of his favourite holidays
☆ Would love if you came to his or his parents with him for Christmas
☆ Loves to get you little trinkets like necklaces with pictures of you and him/pictures of you two etc.
☆ Likes to get the prettiest tree to match his pretty girl,loves to decorate with you and go out to do the decoration shopping with you.
☆ Will definitely have a bauble with a picture of you both together in it.
☆ At the end of the day he would love to cuddle with you just as a nice end to the day.
☆ Would love to help you decorate your apartment/home ; if you don’t already live with him.
☆ Would love to spend the day with family and friends and would go an extra mile to make sure he can.
☆ Will make sure you have whatever you asked for
☆ Ends up giving you a couple presents early because he’s so excited
☆ Type of person to say “only little gifts this year” then spend thousands on you
☆ Bust out the cd player because Jake is finding every opportunity to his Christmas cds
☆ Loves Christmas music,the type of guy to listen to Christmas music in September.
☆ LOVES SNOW.
☆ He will get out the camera and chase you with snowballs till you’re on the floor laughing
☆ loves every opportunity to build snowmen with you
☆ His instagram would be flooded with pictures of you two together making snow angels/snowball fights etc.
☆ Definitely ends up trecking snow throughout the house
☆ Would never let anyone be sad on Christmas,if he can fix it it will be fixed immediately
☆ Would be the happiest person around Christmas time in general,he loves the atmosphere.
137 notes · View notes
diana-bookfairchild · 6 months
Text
@hinnymicrofic
September Prompts Day 21: Murderous
Harry was the Man Who Conquered. The Head Auror.
And he had never faced a situation quite so tense.
Ginny fixed him with a murderous gaze before slowly moving her eyes to her brother. “Which of you was it,” she said in a low, dangerous voice that typically preceded hexes, most likely the Bat-Bogey variety. “I want the truth. Now.”
Harry was used to making decisions on the fly, but this was ridiculous.
“Answer the question, boys,” Hermione said disapprovingly, perching on the couch, her book closed for once.
Harry made an executive decision.
“It was Ron,” he threw his best mate under the bus with no small amount of remorse.
“Harry!” Ron cried out in betrayal as both women honed in on him with murderous gazes and flared nostrils akin to bloodthirsty hellhounds (he ought to know; he had a case related to them not two months ago).
“Did you do it, Ron?” Ginny asked, now very calmly. Somehow, this was worse than the angry tone. Hermione was fingering her wand as she stood up, also very calmly.
Harry loved his girlfriend and best friend. He really, really did.
He was just also extremely scared of them, as any sane person would be.
“I cannot believe this,” Hermione intoned lowly. “From you of all people. I would’ve expected this kind of impulsivity and short-sightedness from Harry—”
“Hey,” Harry cut in broodingly, because doing suicidal reckless things was kind of in his nature, but shut up when Ginny raised an eyebrow.
“But not from you,” Hermione shook her head sadly, ignoring Harry completely, which he was grateful for, but also a little offended by. “How could you?”
“Hermione, c’mon, I didn’t mean to do it!” Ron cried out desperately, confirming his guilt and sealing his fate.
Then he proved just how little Harry’s friendship meant to him.
“Harry was the one who brought it up, anyway.”
“Ron,” Harry said hoarsely, disbelievingly, as the girls’ murderous looks were trained once again on him.
“You started it, mate,” Ron shook his head sadly too, proving he spent far too much time with Hermione.
“Harry,” Ginny said slowly. “Did you bring up the party to Mum?” Hermione stared at him incredulously.
Harry saw his life flash before his eyes.
He could lie to the press, the whole world, his coworkers, the Weasleys, even Ron and Hermione and Teddy, but he couldn’t lie to Ginny.
He took a deep breath. Steeled himself.
“Yes. I did.”
“How could you?” Ginny whispered. Harry could swear there were tears in her eyes, but Ginny Weasley never cried. “Do you realize what this means for us, Harry? What the next three months of our life are going to be like?”
“I know,” Harry nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Hermione sighed. “Of course you didn’t,” she murmured.
Ron made an indignant noise. “Why is it when Harry’s to blame you two go all soft and when I am you look murderous?” He complained.
The girls threw scathing looks at him. “We haven’t forgotten that you’re the one who dealt the final blow, brother,” Ginny said threateningly.
Ron gulped and shut up, because he had a sense of self-preservation.
“I’m sorry,” Harry repeated, because despite how ridiculous it sounded, he could display some self-preservation too. Occasionally.
“I know you are,” Ginny said soothingly, murderous expression disappearing, as she hugged him and kissed his cheek. Hermione sighed and sheathed her wand.
“I hope you know we’re leaving all the work to you,” Hermione informed them.
Harry and Ron blanched, exchanging looks.
“We know nothing about party planning,” Ron said flatly.
“Well, you should’ve thought of that before promising Mum our help,” Ginny smiled, showing all her teeth. “Unless you’d like to also be the one to tell her we can’t.”
Harry would, quite frankly, rather face Voldemort again.
Ever since the extended Weasley family (which consisted of most of the Order and the DA along with the actual blood family) had started marrying and having children, getting together on days such as Christmas and birthdays had become nigh impossible.
Mr. Weasley had discovered the American holiday of Thanksgiving, and his wife had decided that was the one day every single person of their acquaintance would sequester themselves in the Burrow and celebrate.
It was the most exclusive event of the year, according to Witch Weekly, and Mrs. Weasley’s mania regarding it exceeded even her grief after the war and the craziness of her children’s weddings.
And Harry and Ron had just promised to help her plan and organize it, something the others took literal vacations to avoid (George and Angelina were currently in Botswana; Percy, Audrey and Oliver were pretending to be sick while definitely not being so; Bill, Fleur and Victoire had escaped to France; Neville was apparently swamped with work at the office while Harry knew he was tending to plants in his terrarium all day; Teddy had suddenly started throwing tantrums with destructive accidental magic again according to Andromeda; Kingsley was assigning himself paperwork, which was truly desperate).
“We’ll do the work,” Harry said defeatedly, Ron nodding morosely beside him.
Nothing for it, after all.
Ginny smiled and kissed him, which made his outlook a lot more positive.
She was worth the entire world.
Even spending his days buried in invitations, letters from various great-aunts and fifth and sixth cousins, gifts, catering orders and décor options.
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