#like a child waiting for their christmas's gifts

[pathologicalreid]

christmas (baby please come home) | s.r.

in which Spencer isn't home to put his kids to bed on Christmas Eve, but they wake up to a surprise on Christmas morning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: spencer's first post prison christmas, frankensteined the plot of "surface tension", the same family as "here with me", crying, christmas word count: 3.19k a/n: merry christmas!! this is kinda like my gift to you, mostly since it's been sitting in my brain for forever!!!!!!! i love u all! also happy first day of hanukkah if you celebrate <33

“But Daddy’s not home,” your daughter whimpered as she shuffled under her covers, she looked up at you with wide, curious eyes.

You carefully smoothed out the top of her floral comforter, “I know, baby,” you whispered, reaching up to pinch her cheek affectionately. You’d let them stay up late to watch the Santa tracker, but eventually, Finn fell asleep on you, and Livvy’s yawns were enough to convince you that it was bedtime. “You still have to go to sleep. Santa will come whether Daddy’s home or not, and we’ll just do the gifts from Mommy and Daddy when he gets back.”

At three years old, Olivia was beginning to understand Spencer being gone the same way Eleanor did; she knew his absence was entirely out of her control, and that didn’t sit well with your middle child. You knew you had gotten incredibly lucky when Spencer had been home for Finn’s birthday and Livvy’s had fallen during his sabbatical, but you also knew that you were due for a missed holiday, you just wished it could’ve been Thanksgiving or New Year’s.

You kissed her forehead before leaving, making sure to leave the door open a crack so the monsters wouldn’t get her before you went to Nell’s room. “Hey, honey,” you whispered, closing your eldest’s door behind you before going to sit on the edge of her bed. She had her own Christmas tree set up in the corner of the room, the artificial purple tree providing the glow that her nightlight normally would. “Are you ready for bed?”

Nell was lying on top of her covers, staring at her still ceiling fan as she ignored your question. While Livvy was just starting to understand what it meant when Spencer was gone, Nell understood it best, and she had for years now. She’d understood when Spencer was in prison, and she understood that he was missing Christmas now.

Slowly, you laid down next to your daughter, propping your head up on the bed and smoothing her hair back. “It’s still Christmas,” you tried to reassure her, but part of you knew that it was a thankless effort, there was nothing you could tell her that would fix her father’s absence. “We can call Dad in the morning while we open presents,” you offered, hoping she’d appreciate you coming halfway. “If he’s not busy, maybe we can video chat, and you can show him everything Santa brought you.”

“It’s not the same,” she told you, furrowing her brows and turning away from you on the bed.

Sighing, you pressed a kiss to the back of her head, “I know, Nellie. I know it’s not fair that he doesn’t get to be here for Christmas, but Daddy will come back.” There was a sense of urgency in your voice; you were afraid that if your five-year-old lost the joy in Christmas, you’d somehow failed her as a mother. “He’ll be home for your birthday, I promise,” you whispered.

“You can’t promise,” she reminded you, knowing that you and Spencer were generally very specific about your promises, leaning toward the ‘I promise I’ll try’ variety.

You hummed in response, “I’d pinky promise you that. Dad will be home for your birthday.” You held up your pinky finger, waiting for her to roll over and reciprocate.

Eleanor rolled over, holding up her pinky finger while brown eyes watched you apprehensively, “Okay,” she breathed, hooking your fingers together and kissing them.

As soon as Spencer told you about the bureau’s contingency to him returning to the BAU, you’d done the math. Eleanor’s sixth birthday would fall near the beginning of his next sabbatical, so you didn’t hesitate to make this promise. “It’s time for bed, my girl,” you whispered, smiling at her softly as she pulled the sleeves of her Christmas pajamas over her hands. “Santa can’t come if you’re not asleep,” you reminded her, sitting up on the bed and getting up, tucking her purple comforter under her chin before you made your final stop of the night.

You’d brought Finn to his room before getting the girls settled, but now that you knew they were alright, you came back to his room. The white noise machine was going, and he was fast asleep in his crib. His pacifier, which you were trying to wean him off of, had fallen from his mouth and onto the sheets, so you set it to the side. To you, the second Christmas was always more exciting than the first, now that he was fourteen months old, he had the dexterity to help open presents.

Ruffling his hair, you kissed him goodnight, just like you’d done with the girls, and you left his room, closing the door so that no one would disturb the light-sleeping baby.

There was a late night ahead of you, but first, you settled yourself onto the couch in the living room and pulled out your phone. Upon opening your messages with Spencer, you couldn’t help but be disappointed to find that there was nothing unread. You thought about sending him a text telling him that you all miss him but eventually decided against it. You didn’t want to make him feel guilty. At least, no more guilty than he likely already did.

You turned on the TV, quietly playing a Christmas movie as you began the festivities. All of the gifts had been expertly hidden in the master bedroom, split between being shoved under your bed and in your closet, but a new playhouse for the girls had been dropped off earlier. It was too big for your room, so your parents had stored it in their basement in the interim.

That would be a struggle to bring in from the garage, so you decided to start small, pulling all of the kids’ stockings from their hooks and laying them out on the floor before going upstairs to get the stuffers.

With the movie playing, you filled the stockings with treats and little toys. A few times you imagined your phone buzzing, but each time there was nothing on the screen. The loneliness started to set in as you rehung the stockings, making sure the kids’ names faced forward above the fireplace.

This wasn’t your first Christmas alone, Spencer had been in Idaho for Olivia’s first Christmas, but neither of the girls remembered it.

They’d remember this one, you thought to yourself, walking back up the stairs to grab a load of boxes. Thankfully, they were already wrapped, but you did have to avoid getting ribbon in your mouth as you carried the armful of gifts down the stairs.

Masterfully, you adjusted them beneath the tree, trying to visualize where they’d all end up in the end as you heard something distantly, but you brushed it off as someone leaving your neighbor’s holiday party. You stood up, wiping your hands on your pajamas as you evaluated your handiwork, shrugging before you turned around for the next load, “Oh,” you breathed, watching the handle on the door from the garage turn.

The door opened slowly, revealing your husband on the other side, his black peacoat draped over his arm and purple scarf looped around his neck. He hooked his car keys on the key hook before he noticed you, brown eyes finding your pajama-clad figure. His lopsided smile was all-knowing as always, he knew he had surprised you. In fact, it had been his goal.

You remained exactly where you were, watching him from the den as he put his shoes away and hung up his outerwear. It was almost as if you’d convinced yourself he was a mirage, and any sudden movements would cause his visage to dissipate. “Hey,” Spencer said, cocking his head at you as if he were confused why you hadn’t come any closer to him. He peeked around you to look at the tree, “Did the kids get to bed okay?”

Instead of answering him, your body naturally responded to what seemed like the miraculous appearance of your husband by producing tears. At first, they just welled along your lash line, but as they started to fall, you buried your face in your hands.

Spencer was there, not only in the house but also taking the initiative to approach you, he wrapped his arms around your torso, taking your tearful form under his care, “Is everything alright?” He asked, slowly dragging his hand up and down your spine, humming as you reciprocated his embrace and pressed your face into his shirt, drying your eyes and taking in the moment.

“Everything is wonderful,” you responded, your voice muffled by his shirt. He smelled like stale dark roast and the jet, but you were too relieved by his arrival to truly mind.

Tightening his grip briefly, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “Right, well. You’re crying, so I had to make sure,” he murmured, swaying gently to the music coming from the film.

You loosed a breath of relief, “I can’t believe you’re here. The kids were miserable at bedtime, Nell wouldn’t even talk to me until I told her you’ll be home for her birthday,” you informed him, keeping your arms wrapped firmly around him while you tipped your head back to see him.

Spencer nodded in understanding, reaching up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “We made the arrest at eight and wrapped up around nine. Somehow, Emily convinced the pilot to leave in the middle of the night, and we were on the jet by ten. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve spent holidays in worse places, but I’d rather be here with you than in Milwaukee.”

“I will kiss Emily Prentiss on the mouth,” you told him candidly.

He raised his brows curiously, “Mhm, and what about me?”

Grinning, you pushed up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his, an amalgamation of a welcome home and a Merry Christmas kiss, but you pulled away before you could get carried away. “Merry Christmas, Spencer Reid, we have work to do,” you told him, taking on a mock seriousness as you nodded your head toward the Christmas tree, which only had a fraction of your kids’ gifts beneath it.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” Spencer reciprocated, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “Let’s get started.”

Spinning out of his grip, you found you had much more pep in your step with his arrival, beaming as the two of you went through the house as quietly as possible, gathering the gifts for the kids without rousing any suspicion. Even grabbing the playhouse from the garage didn’t seem like as much of a task with him around.

You adjusted the stockings as it neared two in the morning, Spencer returned from upstairs with the last few gifts, having changed his clothes into pajamas that neatly matched yours—a family set that was a gift from your Penelope. “They look great,” Spencer assured you, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he stood back, admiring your handiwork.

Walking backward until your back was against your chest, you tilted your head to the side, appraising the mountain of gifts beneath the tree, “Do you think we went overboard this year?” Between the gifts from Santa and the gifts from the two of you, the heap was rather intimidating.

“No,” Spencer answered, “bigger kids, bigger gifts.” He put his arms around your waist, resting his chin on top of your head, “besides, they’re good kids.”

You hummed in response, leaning into him ever so slightly. Part of you felt like Spencer was still experiencing guilt surrounding the three months he spent away from you and the kids while he was in prison. No amount of time at home or therapy would ever absolve him of that guilt, but it never hurt to try, “Hey,” you whispered up to him, “I got you something.”

He frowned down at you, “I thought we said no gifts this year?”

Scoffing, you walked over to the home office, “We say that every year and neither of us ever stick to it, so go get whatever it is you got for me.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but even so, he made his way upstairs to where you knew a gift was hiding in his bedside table. Upon his return, he faltered at the large box you’d placed on the coffee table and held up the small box in his hands; you beamed at him as he eyed the behemoth of a present.

He handed you the smaller box, instinctively, you admired the wrapping before starting to open it, recognizing the jewelry box before you had even discarded your wrapping paper. “Oh, Spence,” you said, looking at the necklace in the box, a dainty chain with five small gemstones on it. His birthstone and yours, followed by Nell’s amethyst, Livvy’s sapphire, and Finn’s tourmaline all strung next to each other, “it’s perfect,” you told him, lightly touching the gems with your fingertips. You’d mentioned wishing you had an everyday necklace a few weeks ago while getting ready, and he must’ve been listening more attentively than you’d thought.

Finally, you had him open his gift, and he was entirely speechless as he opened the cardboard flaps. His mouth gaped as he lifted one of the books in his hand, the title and edition identical to one that had been previously ruined in your house. “Fuck,” he cursed, looking from you to the books and back again.

You shrugged, “It’s not all of them, but a pretty good amount of them. Some of those editions are proving difficult to recover, but I’ve—” You’re cut off, startled by Spencer pressing his lips to yours. “I’m still looking for some,” you said breathlessly once he pulled away.

Spencer seemed unsure of what to do with himself; you’d managed to find replacements for three-fourths of the books that had previously been burned by an accidental fire set earlier this year. The only time your marriage had ever been on the rocks was when Diana lived with you, but even then, you’d been planning this surprise. “You are…” Spencer started, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, “This is incredible,” he told you, shaking his head in disbelief, setting the book down in the box and nearly tackling you in a hug.

Laughing, you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound, “I love you,” you murmured to him, his body now next to yours on the couch.

“I love you too,” he said, looking at you with glassy eyes. “Wow,” he said, sniffling, “I need to get you something else. A necklace isn’t enough,” he told you, likely already thinking of options for addendums.

You shook your head, “Trust me when I tell you that your being here is worth all of the rare books in the world to me,” you reassured him, running your fingers through his hair. Humming, you adjusted your head on the pillow, “Are you gonna fall asleep like this?”

He nodded, “If you keep playing with my hair like that. How long do you think we have until they wake up?” He asked, keeping his eyes closed while you peeked over him to check the time.

Last year, Finn had woken up the whole house on Christmas Day at four in the morning, and seeing as it was nearing three, you wondered if it was worth sleeping at all. You continued combing through Spencer’s hair, “Do you want to go upstairs?”

“This is a really great couch,” he mumbled, already falling asleep on the couch, leading you to grab the blanket that was thrown over the back and haphazardly drape it over the two of you.

Unfortunately, it felt like you’d gotten no sleep at all when you heard the first stirring upstairs, “Mommy,” Olivia called out, which would likely wake up Finn and Nell.

You got up from the couch, waking up Spencer in the process. Your poor husband, who was probably already running on little sleep, got up and folded the blanket you had been using, returning it to its home while you went upstairs to get the kids.

Livvy’s eyes went wide when she saw you come from downstairs, “Did Santa come?” She asked you, nearly bouncing with excitement.

As you expected, the door to Eleanor’s room swung open, revealing your sleep-deprived five-year-old in her rumpled pajamas, “Yes, Santa brought gifts for everyone,” you answered, ruffling her hair before going into Finn’s room, hoping to wake him gently before the voices did a less delicate job. “Hi buddy,” you whispered, looking back to see the girls gathered at the door, completely unaware that their dad was waiting for them downstairs. “Merry Christmas,” you said softly, his scrunched face not processing what you were saying, but happy to see you, nonetheless.

You picked him up from the crib and herded the girls to the stairs, letting them lead the way down while you carried the baby. Right behind them, you watched the realization dawn on their faces as soon as they caught sight of Spencer, “Daddy!” Nell shouted, leading her little sister as they ran to him.

Laughing lightly, you let a squirming Finn down, running to Spencer in the same way the girls just had. From a distance, you watched as all three of your kids entirely bypassed the gifts under the tree and on the mantle and went straight to what was more important—their father was home for Christmas.

Spencer crouched down to get Finn, and at the same time, Livvy jumped in excitement, leaving Spencer falling backward and sitting on the ground while the kids formed a less-than-graceful dog pile on the floor. You took that as your cue to join in on the festivities, kneeling on the floor next to the familial pile, uncontrollable giggles emanated from everyone involved.

You wrangled the two littles in your arms, giving each of them dozens of kisses and receiving more laughter in return as Eleanor settled down. Your eldest took her moment of alone time and laid her head on Spencer’s chest, the grin on her face overtook the rest of her face, “Best Christmas ever,” she whispered before rolling off of him, Spencer instinctively lifting his hand so she doesn’t hit her head on the leg of the coffee table.

Nellie sat up giving you a toothy grin, sticking her tongue through where she was missing a front tooth. Everyone took notice of Olivia pointing at the tree, her mouth shaped like an “o” in awe, “Can we open that one?” She asked, pointing to the largest present in the stack—which, of course, had her name on it.

“Stockings first,” Spencer said, leading to a pout from your middle child, but it was quickly wiped away when he kissed the crown of her head. Your husband got up first, taking Finn from where he was tucked into your side, and set him on his hip, “Okay, who wants their stocking?”

Everyone’s hand went up—including yours.

[sunni-stuff]

Ghost hates Christmas. It's a lingering reminder of what he doesn't have.

A family, children screaming, guests talking, little hands grabbing and gifts unwrapping.

A home, warm, and snug, fireplace flickering, chestnuts roasting, dinner waiting on the table, a feast, his favorites plated near those he loves.

People who care about him once the mask comes off.

Ghost hates Christmas.

So why does Simon enjoy it?

Why does Simon snort uncontrollably when seeing Price dressed up in that stupidly ugly, itchy rudolph sweater with the glowing nose in the middle while Ghost sits in a corner, glowering at the celebration, his somber mood futile.

Why does Simon lose his shit, grinning from ear to ear as Kyle gets absolutely wasted on eggnog, nearly falling ass first into the fireplace while in the closet, buried deep, Ghost is tucked away from all the festivities.

Why does Simon melt as he sits at the dining table, mouth stuffed full of your fresh creamy mac n cheese, eating like a child starved, practically shoving Johnny out of the way for seconds when he finishes while Ghost lost everything on this day.

Ghost doesn't understand.

How can Simon smile?

How can Simon enjoy this time of year? Does he actually like that shitty knife set Gary got him? They're dull, not even sharpened properly, and wouldn't do any good even in the kitchen. But Simon hugs him, holding the gift close.

The closet door creaking made Ghost go on alert, his eyes darting to see... a child. A child who looks like Simon. She throws the door wide open, shuffling in past him and digging around for a brief moment to pull out her gift. One she hid from her papa this entire time.

A drawing.

Childish scribbles adorn the page, happy pastel colors painting a joyous picture of her and her father together. She closes the closet without sparing Ghost a glance, skipping off excitedly.

How childish, Ghost scoffs, but despite being closed off, he could sense Simon's tears, how grateful he is to be alive despite everything he's been through.

He's alive.

Maybe that's why.

[lemonlover1110]

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Megumi receives a lot of gifts from Santa.

Warnings: Fluff

*Merry Christmas my loves, and happy holidays🫶 got a new game so don't expect a lot from me. also don't read too much into this, just enjoy the drabble!

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

Christmas morning, the most exciting morning of the year. Little Megumi is too excited to see what Santa has left for him under the Christmas tree. His birthday just passed, but that day isn’t as exciting as Christmas morning. One present is nothing compared to a mountain of gifts.

“Santa came!” Megumi barges into your bedroom, waking you and Toji first thing in the morning. Toji complains, mad that his slumber is interrupted for nothing. You, on the other hand, are as excited as Megumi. You can’t wait to see his reaction to the gifts that Santa brought for him. 

You drag Toji out in your matching pajamas, while the man complains about being exhausted. He had to keep an eye on Megumi last night, he wanted to make sure that the child wasn’t trying to catch Santa Claus at the wrong moment. 

“Can’t he wait a minute?” Toji complains, but neither of you listen to the old man. The exhaustion quickly goes away when he sees all the gifts under the tree– That’s all his money. But he won’t jump to conclusions yet… Maybe it’s just some cheap gifts, nothing to worry about.

You two take a seat on the couch as Megumi runs to get his gifts.

“What does that read, Megumi?” You ask him before Megumi tears the wrapping paper to shreds. 

“To Megumi, from mom and dad.” Megumi reads, and Toji’s eyebrows perk up. Megumi opens the gift to find a jacket, nothing too fun for the little guy who tosses it to the side.

“Hey! Let me see that!” Toji yells, and Megumi pouts as he grabs the jacket and hands it back to his father. Toji snatches it out of the child’s hands, telling him, “You could be a little more grateful.”

“Thank you.” Megumi dryly responds, as Toji reads the brand of the jacket. Like hell the gift was from the two of you, Toji is just seeing this exists.

“Expensive brand.” Toji’s eyes narrow before looking at you. You kiss his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder, a trick that always works to help him calm down.

“He’ll wear it a lot.” You respond, and Toji sighs. He guesses you’re right. Toji just hopes that not everything under that tree is as expensive.

“Santa got me a Nintendo Switch!” Megumi exclaims not even a minute later, and Toji’s hand goes over his heart. Oh, this is it. This is what’ll kill him.

“Santa?” Toji responds, slowly turning his head to look at you. You’re smirking, guilty as charged. To add more salt to the wound, Megumi yells,

“And some games!”

Toji had nearly forgotten that he hated this holiday– By the time he’ll financially recover, Christmas will roll around again.

[evie-sturns]

your christmas gift to matt 🎄

———————————————

it was coming to the end of the present opening, matt sits in a pile of teared up wrapping paper with the largest grin you’ve possibly ever seen on his face. his cheeks are a rosy red from the heating, which was definitely cranked up to the max after you kept complaining about how cold it was in this house.

“i love all of it- i mean how did you even think of this! i’ve wanted it for ages but i never said anything! it’s like you read my mind or some shit.” matt laughs excitability, a big smile spread across his face as he holds up the lego batman set you got him. “what can i say- you’re literally batman!” i tease, “i just sensed your aura, had to get the set for you.” i smile.

matt laughs, scooping up all of the wrapping paper around him and stuffing it in the bin bag.

he was just so clueless about what you had in store for him.

you and matt had been dating for 3 years now, you didn’t want kids, definitely not yet atleast, but there was one thing matt wanted, more than anything, which is basically the same concept…. all he yaps about is this one thing, he could never make the commitment to buy it, never. but you definitely could.

“matt- i have one last present for you.” i speak, fidgeting with your hands nervously. confusion washes over him, “but we already unwrapped everythi-“ he speaks, but he stops as i stand up, walking to behind the couch and pulling out a box. loosely wrapped in green christmas tree wrapping paper. his eyebrows furrow, as he stares at it.

i sit down on the floor infront of him, clutching the box in your lap.

“i uhm- hope you’re not too mad at me for this purchase- but you’ve always talked about it and-“ i ramble on and on, trying to downplay the present i just got him. “you’re edging me jesus.” he laughs, running a hand through his hair.

i place the box in his lap, and he instantly starts unwrapping it, to reveal a large cardboard box…

‘meeow’ a familiar noice booms throughout the box. matt’s head instantly snaps up to look at me, his lips slightly parted. his eyes are wide as he freezes. “no you didn’t-“ he instantly speaks, his voice soft and panicked. i gnaw on my bottom lip nervously as i look at him.

he gently lifts open the flaps of the cardboard box, peeking inside.

a cat. you had got him a cat. a fluffy white kitten, with bright blue eyes of course, to match matt’s.

his hand trembles as he reaches inside the box, gently lifting the small animal out. he clutches the kitten to his chest, holding it like it’s made of glass. his hands are fully shaking now, i can’t see his face due to the fact his hair is flopped infront of his as he looks down at it.

he’s fully silent, my heart thumps as i wait for any sort of reaction, but he just clings to the cat. his large hands almost covering the whole thing.

“do you- do you like it??” i speak nervously.

matt nods silently, before looking up at me with tear filled eyes, “i lov- i love her.” his voice breaks as he gently places the cat down in the box. he’s crying, oh my god.

“oh- aw matt-!” i laugh with a smile as he wipes at his eyes frantically. i pull him into my chest as he lets out a loud hiccup, his tears streaming down his face and dripping onto my christmas sweater.

“i’m sorry- i’m just really happy.” he sobs out through a laugh, his arms wrapped around my waist deathly tight. “i’ve always wanted- a cat and- and now we have one and-“ he cries, pulling away from my chest to lift the kitten out of the box. his whole body shaking as he holds it like his firstborn child. “i love her- i love you- thank you so much this is the best thing that’s ever happened-“ he rambles,

i feel my own emotions start to surface as i look at him, god i am so inlove with this man.

——————-

@ilovemymannnnnnn n @sturnioloxlver r @buckys-goodgirl rl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl l girl @luvr4miya a @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit t @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts s @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo o o @chrisstopherfilmed @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 s2 @ev3rgreenxtrees ees @certifiednatelover er @solarsturniolo lo @mattsenthusiast t t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonlybitch h @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos s@sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn n @raysmayhem-72 2 @75sturn n @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 1 1 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @sunsetsturniolos ver r @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall

[kumkaniudaku]

Caught

Summary: When their guest is away, Terry and Patrice will play.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,067

Warnings: Smut (18+ content)

Recommended Reading: Spoiled

Author's Note: Spoiled, Back Up, and Caught all happen on the same linear timeline. Consider them present day events. Hopefully that helps pull things together because you'll need the context later. Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!

"Mommy, the recipe for the hand pies is so good. Thank you for finding it for me." 

"Oh, of course, baby. One day, I gotta get you to help me put all your Nana's recipes in a book or something. I'm tired of digging through all these scraps of paper." 

"I didn't wanna say anything, but that's insane. I can barely read her handwriting." 

Rosalyn scoffed on the other end of the phone line. "You and me both. I have to call Sybil every time or end up making up what I think goes there. I cook. I don't decipher chicken scratch."

Patrice laughed along with her mother as she passed a piping hot meatball over her shoulder to satisfy her taste tester for the night. He hummed his approval of her gift, providing a thumbs up as his rating before returning his hand to her waist and swaying them in time with the slow rhythm of Christmas music playing in the background. 

Christmas Eve brought preparation for the big day on the other side of a wake-up and a smaller get-together to celebrate Imani's and Jesus's birthdays in one evening. Patrice had offered to continue the tradition at her house to accommodate her cousin's request for loud music, liquor, and good, grown folks' fun. In a few short minutes, she and Terry would have a house full of adults gorging themselves on party food and fighting fits of giggles during a drunk game of Taboo. For now, she'd enjoy the calm before the storm with her shadow attached at the hip.

"The cinnamon smell for the apple version was way too strong, though. I almost skipped those altogether." 

Rosalyn responded with a sound of cautious curiosity. "Really? You usually love the smell of cinnamon." 

"Right," Patrice exclaimed. "Maybe I had a bad batch or something. It doesn't taste bad, but it smelled awful."

"Hm." Rosalyn filed the information in her head for a later moment of privacy, preferring not to stress her daughter with the questions buzzing around in the mind of a mother who knew her child better than anyone in the world. Instead, she continued. "Terry, did you like the hand pies?"

"You don't know if Terry is even in here, mama. He could be anywhere in the house," Patrice answered, her face screwed in confusion.

"Child, don't insult me. If you're in the kitchen, Terry is in the kitchen."

She wasn't wrong. A few too many glasses of Patrice's special holiday cocktail mixed with his ever-present desire to feel his wife at all times had Terry sticking to her like glue. Even after she'd given in to each of his kisses and allowed him to taste her the moment Imani stepped out to run a few errands, she still couldn't shake him. Whiskey was in control. Terry was only along for the ride.

He chuckled into the crook of Patrice's neck before confirming his presence. "Yes, ma'am, I loved the pies. Treece made a few on the side for me so I wouldn't have to share." 

"She still got you spoiled, I see."

"Nah, not too bad. You know she gets sweet once a week. I caught her on a good day." 

"Oh, hush."

Patrice's attempt to get out of Terry's grasp came up empty, prompting him to hold her tighter and press wet kisses onto the back of her neck. She was sadly mistaken if she thought she could get away from him that easy while Uncle Nearest was pumping through his veins. 

"Well, let me let you two go," Rosalyn started with a small laugh. "Tell me how the chicken salad turns out. I might throw some together as a little snack for your daddy tomorrow. You know how he gets when he's ready to eat." 

"Mhmm. Just like somebody else I know."

Terry patiently waited for Patrice to wrap up her conversation and safely end the call before resuming his handsy approach to PDA. His hands slid up and down the fabric of her cotton pajama pants, the pair matching his at her request. Full lips attached to her neck, creating a light suction with every open-mouthed kiss. 

His wife rolled her eyes as she loaded a pita chip with dip for his culinary opinion. "You are insatiable, TJ. Taste this." 

He obliged, opening wide as she slid food into his mouth and waited for a response. Instead of a verbal assessment of her work, he kissed her cheek twice to signal his approval, then returned to his shameless groping.

"How long before Imani gets back?" 

"I don't know. Fifteen minutes or so. She only went to grab some more cups and water." 

Terry's eyes flickered to the digital clock on the stove before sliding his hands up Patrice's torso and leaving a trail of kisses on her shoulder. "Think you got a few minutes to get back to what we started?" 

"Haven't you had enough of me yet? We've been going at it every day since New Orleans."

"What you think?"

Having enough of her touch, the feeling of her body against his, or her attention was a foreign concept for Terry. If he could quit his job and be totally devoted to her pleasure, he would do so without a second thought. Fortunately for him, though, extended absences from the slough of office life due to the holidays provided the closest opportunity to spend the whole day in it. 

Patrice smiled to herself as Terry slowly removed the serving spoon from her hand, bringing her delicate palm up to the back of his head. Coarse hair grown into a short tuft of curls and shaped by his barber tickled her fingertips as she closed her eyes, officially caught up in how Terry caressed her with the care afforded to precious works of art. 

A low purr slipped past his lips as his hands slid beneath the hem of her camisole to rub her stomach, filling her ears and mind with filthy sounds and images from earlier in the hour. Had he had enough of her? She wasn't sure she'd had enough of him. 

His fingertips inched higher, further intoxicating Patrice until a full squeeze on both breasts at the same time made her hiss and wince in pain. 

"Easy, baby," she complained as she gently pressed down on his arms to direct him away from the sensitive area. "They're super tender right now. I'm not sure why." 

Lust was quickly replaced by concern as Terry dropped his hands and turned Patrice to face him. "You okay?" 

"I'm fine, Pooh. It's probably the tattoo healing. 

"Yeah, but it shouldn't be making the entire area hurt. Especially not on both sides. Let me look."

"Terry, you never just look."

His attempt to slide the thin straps of her tank top down her arms was quickly cut short as Patrice brushed off his contact to save herself from what she assumed would come next. Her aching was a serious matter. Terry getting a look at her bare tits was not nearly as high on the list. 

Terry softened his eyes in unmistakable sincerity. "I'm serious, Treece. I know what it should look like. Come here."

Patrice didn't protest as Terry led her to the kitchen table. She stood perfectly still until Terry was comfortable in one of the chairs and then placed her between his legs. 

He gingerly pushed her tanktop straps down her arms before bunching the thin fabric at her waist to free her breasts, watching for any sign of discomfort.

"You don't think you're like…sick, do you?" 

"I think it's just tenderness," she quickly retorted, wanting to push the thought of more grave explanations for her discomfort far from her mind.

"Okay, okay. I'm only asking." 

Her brows furrowed as he lifted the right side to get a look at the moment from a charged few days in his family's old stomping grounds. 

A day alone and nothing to do but explore had them wandering into the same shady tattoo parlor where Terry got his first piece for matching ink. Terry opted to tat their wedding date on his ribs after having to be talked down from plastering her name on his neck. Patrice, however, was set on making her first experience one to remember. 

Slanted script crafted from his handwriting spelled Terry's full first name, curving just under the crease of her boob and the spot that he liked to grip in the depths of passion or simply at his leisure. Terry ran his thumb along each letter to check for abrasions or abnormalities. 

He looked up at Patrice to gauge her reaction. "That hurt?" 

"Not really. It's more here," she added, gesturing toward her areola. "Anything rubbing against it is so uncomfortable. I can barely wear a bra." 

"I noticed. They've honestly been looking a little bigger. Do they feel heavy to you?" 

"Not heavy. Mostly…full? They look great, though. I'm not complaining about that part." 

She joked, the attempt sounding silly once it received no reaction past Terry blinking as he used the pad of his thumb to ghost contact over her pebbled nipple to test her pain level. It was challenging to stay present, with a third of her upper half unnecessarily exposed in their kitchen for no real reason. The entire ordeal felt like a farce. Terrence wasn't a doctor, and him holding her titties in his hands like fleshy snowglobes was as much an actual check-up as WWE was real wrestling. 

When she giggled like a teenager learning about sex for the first time, Terry looked up at her with a quizzical expression, and his left eyebrow lifted high. "What's so funny?" 

"You, Doctor Richmond," she laughed. "How can you tell they're bigger? I couldn't even tell until the other day." 

"I spend a lot of time with my girls. I better notice when they change. Been looking at them since I was sixteen." Terry answered, a boyish grin making his cheekbones nearly touch the corner of his eyes. 

"I knew you used to look!" She exclaimed, finally feeling vindicated in her suspicions from childhood. 

"Looking was the least of what I was doing." He shrugged as he gently pushed both breasts together for his own viewing pleasure. He kissed the small crease they made two times over, then looked up at Patrice through long lashes. "Unfortunately, ma'am, I couldn't diagnose you, but I think I have some treatment available if you're interested." 

Patrice bit back a smile to play along. "Oh yeah? How much is this gonna cost? It's the holidays, and I ain't got it." 

"I offer payment plans that we can discuss in that room back there later tonight." 

"I like the sound of that," she answered, previous problems vanishing into thin air as he roped her back into his web of liquor-charged desire. 

"I knew you would," he winked. "Don't move."

Tingles rippled across Patrice's skin while she listened for any indication of Terry's secretive treatment plan. The soft crack and subsequent rush of cool from the freezer created goosebumps on her bare chest, making her nipples jut out proud from the sensation. Next came the cupboard opening and shutting in two seconds time. From the direction, she could tell he was grabbing a glass from over the sink. 

Ice cubes clinked against the cup like little masters of whispers attempting to give Patrice the scoop on what to expect. Terry quietly shut the freezer and took heavy steps back to his seat, smiling at how Patrice truly hadn't moved a muscle in his few minutes away. 

He placed the glass on the table behind him before tugging her hand to guide her closer. "Cold hot therapy. I sprained my knee once, and this got me back up and running in no time. Ice for the cold…" Terry's voice trailed as he plucked a piece of ice from his glass and pressed it to her nipple. He watched her jaw drop with a sharp inhale, intently focused on the way her eyelids fluttered closed at the sudden shock of frozen water. When a single drop began to make a trail down the swell of her breast, he pulled the ice away and brought his mouth closer. "And I'll take care of the hot."

"Oh…my God." 

Whispers of unexpected pleasure sent Terry into a far-off place where he was only concerned with running a flat tongue across supple skin. Patrice rushed to steady herself by bringing her hands to the back of his head, cradling him while he went to work. 

Ice cold. Soothing warmth. Ice cold. Soothing warmth and a light suckle. Again. And again. 

He eyed her like a lion watches prey, taking notes of every little sound and twitch to know that he was fulfilling his job. 

"Good job, baby," Patrice whispered, her head tossed back and praises spoken to the ceiling. "Good fuckin' job."

Terry ran his hands up the back of her thighs to roughly grip her ass. He groaned at the affirmation before pulling away to retrieve more ice. He held a small cube between his teeth to multitask, running it across her left nipple and areola until it had melted enough to fit both in his mouth. 

Was it fixing her tenderness issue? Not really. But Patrice would be damned if his subtle slurping and moaning with her backside firmly in his clutches wasn't sufficiently taking her mind off things. So far off, she'd lost all concept of time and space. 

While Terry pulled Patrice into his lap for a more intensive inspection, Imani entered the house high off the exhilarating freedom that can only come for night drives with a carefully curated playlist blasting from the speakers. Being stateside for the first time in a year was the perfect opportunity to experience one of life's simple pleasures. 

Grocery bags rustled and knocked against the wall as she hummed along to the fragmented lyrics from a song on her Spotify playlist still coursing through her brain. A short pause in her personal concert to lock the door left space to hear a string of curious noises. Muffled half-sentences and a sort of trembling sigh made her quirk an eyebrow. She thought to herself that Terry and Patrice left the television on far too often for a pair of people who claimed to not spend much time in front of the tube, but quickly found that they'd taken to making a scene the old-fashioned way. 

She stood in the open space, a perfectly shaped eyebrow pushed high on her face and an impressed smirk tugging at the right corner of her lip while she watched her baby cousin makeout with Imani's newest family member with a ferocity she didn't know Patrice had in her. 

Patrice held Terry steady by his jaw, slightly hovering over him while she had her way leading a sloppy kiss. When she moved to push his head back toward her chest with a string of words filthy enough to make a pornstar blush, Imani cleared her throat to finally announce her presence.

"Oh shit," Patrice yelped, rushing to tap Terry's back and end his check-up. 

His head popped up to survey the room, then slowly found a home on top of Patrice's once she pressed close enough against his chest to cover her naked breasts. The vibrations from his concealed chortling made Patrice pinch him in frustration. Nothing was funny, at least not to her. 

Imani held her hands up in faux surrender. "No, please. Don't stop on account of me," she laughed. "Y'all were just getting started." 

"We are so sorry, Moanie. This isn't what it looks like. Well, this part is exactly what it looks like, but I promise it didn't start like this. Terry was looking at my boobs to check on my tattoo and -" 

"Girl, you do not have to explain anything to me. This is your house! Honestly, if I had those big ol' mommy titties, I'd want them in somebody's face too. And you got them for free! The girls gotta go under the knife or get pregnant for those. How does it feel to be God's favorite? Terry, can you help me get the water out of the car when you finish?"

Terry looked down at his visibly distressed wife and then back at Imani to save face for the both of them. "Yeah, I got you. Gimme a minute." 

Moanie didn't notice how she'd launched her cousin into an internal spiral as she pranced off to busy herself with getting ready in her room for the week, but Terry did. He carefully sat Patrice up and helped redress her, careful to ease into conversation. 

"You alright?" 

"I had my cycle this month," Patrice rushed out, her gaze far off as Terry lifted her arm to put it back in her camisole strap. "It can't be that. I had my cycle." When her focus returned, her eyes snapped to Terry's for confirmation. "Right? I did, right?"

He nodded, unsure of how to proceed to quell her fear. "You did, baby. But, maybe…"

Sure, it was lighter than usual, but she'd had a cycle. Her body functioned like it did every month, on time and without pomp and circumstance. There was no cause for concern. 

But…maybe. 

Patrice looked down at her belly then back up at Terry, searching for answers in his sympathetic expression. He leaned forward and held her head with both hands to give her a kiss she couldn't return before he spoke. 

"Don't drink tonight. Just in case. We'll figure it out in the morning. Okay?"

"Okay." She whispered back without truly processing the gravity of his instruction. 

Terry slowly lifted Patrice from his lap to fulfill Imani's request for assistance, leaving her to stand perfectly still in the kitchen. She counted backward in her head, retracing her steps and important dates until a headache sent her to take a seat. 

It was just tenderness. It'd go away by morning, and all of this would be a silly story to tell whenever they got together in the spring for their European honeymoon. She'd drink an entire bottle of wine over heaps of pasta, turning the whole situation into a fond memory before raising her hand to call the server for another round. All water under the bridge, right?

But…maybe.

------

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[scribblesofagoonerr]

first christmas | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: the second part of the flash back to buddy & monkey's first christmas.

double the trouble masterlist

Christmas morning had arrived, and the faint golden light filtered through the curtains. You tiptoed down the stairs, the cosy warmth of the house contrasting with the crisp winter chill outside.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, your eyes widened at the sight before you. Beneath the Christmas tree, a mountain of presents was neatly stacked up, each of them wrapped in colourful paper.

The room seemed to sparkle with magic, it was the kind you had only seen in movies or dreamed about as a child.

"Woah," You whispered, your voice filled with disbelief.

Leah appeared from the kitchen, holding a steaming drink in her hands that definitely wasn't for her considering she despised coffee, "Merry Christmas, my girl." She said warmly, stepping closer to you.

You blinked, still trying to process what you were seeing, "Are... Are all of these for me?" You asked hesitantly, as if afraid the answer might be no.

Leah chuckled and nodded, "For you, and for Buddy," She said, gesturing toward your favourite little buddy, who was babbling happily on the floor, sitting between Jordan's legs, attempting to chew on wrapping paper.

Jordan grinned at you, "Go ahead and open them, little one." She encouraged you.

You were hesitant, glancing at the sheer number of presents under the tree, "But... But I didn't ask for any of this," You said quietly, your fingers brushing against the wrapping paper of one of the small gifts.

"Well that's okay," Leah said, placing the steaming mug on the coffee table before moving to crouch down beside you, "You've been on Santa's nice list, and luckily, he knew exactly what you would like."

You brow furrowed as you tilted your head, "There's so many of them-- Wait, he knew?" Your eyes felt like they bulged out of it's sockets at those words.

"Yeah, he's been watching you all year round to see whether you've been bad or good," Leah stated, her expression turning playful, "Clearly Santa thinks you've been good this year." She added.

You scrunched up your nose, "He still sounds like a creep," You muttered, making Jordan burst into laughter from across the room, "I don't know what to open first." You added, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

"It's okay to take your time with them," Leah reassured you, "How about you over this side first?"

"Okay," You said, picking up a box about twice the size of your hand as you carefully tore into the wrapping paper, revealing a LEGO set. Your eyes lit up in excitement as you held it up, "Whoa, cool! LEGO! Thanks! I wanted this!" You exclaimed, turning to Leah and Jordan with a wide grin.

"There's plenty more to open," Jordan said, nodding toward the pile.

You dove back in, picking up another package, this one wrapped in a different kind of wrapping paper, "Cool! I love it, thank you!" You exclaimed, holding up the hoodie in your hands.

"That one is of my parents," Leah explained, smiling softly.

"Really?" Your eyes widened in shock, "I... I never expected it. Can I open the rest?" You asked eagerly.

"Of course you can," Leah said, ruffling your hair affectionately.

Meanwhile, Buddy had found her own source of entertainment: the discarded wrapping paper. She giggled and crinkled it in her tiny fists, clearly more interested in the noise it made than the actual gifts.

"She's more entertained by that than her presents," Jordan laughed, shaking her head in amusement.

"We could have saved so much money," Leah joked, amused with Buddy's antics, "You're not supposed to eat it, bubba."

But you were too engrossed in your presents to notice, "Woah! No way-- I have wanted one of these for ages! Thank you!" You grinned, holding the box of a fresh Nintendo Switch, one that you'd been looking at for ages.

"Don't thank us, thank Santa Clause," Leah teased.

"No way. That dudes' a creep!" You shot back, making Leah and Jordan both laugh, "Can I set it up, now?"

"You still have other presents to open, but in a bit you can," Leah said, shaking her head fondly.

"Can I take it out with us? Please?" You asked, already planning how you'd show off your new toy.

"That's fine, just be careful, okay?" Leah agreed.

"Deal! Thank you-- Whoa, this is totally awesome. Cool, Mario Kart!" You exclaimed, holding up the game in your hand.

"Open the present on your right, little one," Jordan prompted, clearly knowing what it was.

You tore into it eagerly and gasped, "A steering wheel? Awesome!"

"Apparently this is the one that's top of the range at the moment," Jordan explained with a proud smile, "We asked the man himself, who was certain about it."

"So cool!" You said, your excitement growing with each gift.

By the time you had opened all of your gifts, you were overwhelmed with the stacks of presents that you had from Leah, Jordan and both of their families, "I... I don't even know what to say," You admitted, looking at Leah and Jordan with wide eyes, "Thank... Thank you."

Leah smiled, leaning down to hug you tightly, "You're worth it, my girl."

Jordan joined the hug, Buddy nestled in her arms, "Merry Christmas, little one. Welcome to the family."

"Are we there yet?" You groaned, slumping dramatically in your seat as the car pulled out of the driveway.

Jordan glanced at you through the rearview mirror, one eyebrow arched in bemusement, "We've only just left our house, little one. At least wait until we're on the motorway before you start complaining, eh?"

"But I'm bored, and the car is cramped!" You whined, squirming in the backseat for emphasis, you were sat beside Buddy in her carseat, making the space feel even tighter, "How much longer until we're there?"

"About forty minutes," Leah replied from the passenger seat, scrolling idly through her phone.

"Forty minutes? That's, like, forever!" You protested, dragging out the word with as much melodrama as possible.

"Time will pass before you know it," Leah said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at your dramatics.

"I don't think it will. I'm so bored," You complained, letting out an exaggerated huff and then leaned forward slightly, "I'm hungry. Can I have some chocolate?"

"No," Leah replied firmly, her tone leaving no room for debate, "You'll spoil your dinner."

"But I'm really hungry," You pressed, sticking out your lower lip in an attempt to look pitiful.

Jordan chuckled in amusement, her eyes focused on the road up ahead, "I'm sure you'll survive until we get there, little one."

"I don't think so," You countered with mock seriousness, "I'll starve before we get to Milton Keynes!"

Leah snorted, shaking her head, "You're being ridiculous. You literally had breakfast this morning. You'll survive."

"I'm not convinced," You grumbled under your breath, slumping further in your seat. Turning your attention to Buddy, you wiggled your fingers toward her sock-clad-feet, earning a squeal of delight from the 8 month old, "What do you think, Buddy? Aren't they being unfair?"

"Oh I'm sure she's definitely going to agree with you," Jordan teased, glancing at you in the rearview mirror, a smirk tugging at her lips.

You continued entertaining Buddy, making silly faces and tickling her feet, "Mummy and Mama are trying to starve me," You declared dramatically, "It's an outrage, right?"

Buddy responded with a happy babble and flailed her little arms, which you immediately interpreted as agreement, "See? Even Buddy agrees with me!" You said triumphantly, "So, can I have chocolate now?"

"My answer is still no, Menace," Leah said without missing a beat, her tone firm but playful.

"Ugh, so not fair," You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and slouching back into your seat.

You absolutely despised long car rides, and you definitely made sure that both Leah and Jordan were painfully aware of your feelings.

"Are we there yet?"  You questioned no less than 10 minutes later.

Leah let out an exaggerated sigh, "Not since the last time you asked, no."

"I'm bored!" You exclaimed dramatically.

"Hi, bored," Jordan quipped without missing a beat.

"Ha ha ha, you're hilarious..." You muttered sarcastically.

"I know," Jordan replied smugly, "I get that a lot."

You scrunched your face up, "Urgh, you're so annoying, and I'm still bored."

"Hi, still bored," Jordan teased, flashing you a cheeky grin in the mirror as she strummed her hands on the car steering wheel to the music that was playing, and ironically enough it was driving home for christmas.

"Babe," Leah chuckled, shaking her head, "Maybe I should've gotten you a Dad Jokes book for Christmas instead."

"No need, love. I'm naturally gifted," Jordan replied with a wink.

"More like you’re naturally annoying," You muttered, earning a laugh from Leah.

"Alright, Monkey," Leah said, turning slightly in her seat to face you, "If you're going to keep whining, how about we play a game to pass the time?"

"A game? Like what?" You asked cautiously.

"How about the quiet game?" Leah suggested, her lips twitching with amusement.

You scoffed, shaking your head in protest, "That's lame! Can't we play something better instead?"

"Like what?" Jordan questioned.

"Um... I don't know, like 'I spy'!" You declared, your eyes lighting up.

"Alright," Leah said with a sigh, "You start then."

You grinned mischievously, "I spy with my little eye... something red!"

"The air freshener?" Jordan guessed.

"Nope!" You exclaimed.

"The presents in the gift bag," Leah tried her luck.

"Wrong again!" You smirked in amusement.

Jordan arched her eyebrow, "Buddy's coat?" She asked.

"Nope, not even close," You said smugly.

"Something red? There's not much else in here," Leah mused.

"Give up?" You asked, bouncing slightly in your seat with excitement.

"I do," Jordan admitted, using her free hand to scratch the back of her neck.

"Not yet," Leah said, narrowing her eyes as she scanned the road, "Is it that road sign we just passed?"

"Nope! You know, you're both terrible at this!" You teased, leaning back with a triumphant grin.

"Alright, what is it?" Leah finally asked.

You grinned mischievously, glancing between the two of them, "It's Leah's face when she's mad!" You exclaimed, dissolving into giggles.

Jordan burst into laughter, clapping her hands on the steering wheel while Leah groaned, shaking her head, though a small smile tugged at her lips despite her mock glare.

"You are such a little Menace sometimes, you know that?" Leah said, her tone affectionate even as she rolled her eyes.

“We’re here! Finally!” You exclaimed, eager to escape the confines of the car.

“Finally! I don’t think I could handle anymore of your complaining,” Jordan quipped, turning off the ignition.

“Cheer up, grumpy. It’s Christmas!” Leah chuckled, undoing her seatbelt with practiced ease.

“Yeah, Jord, cheer up. It’s Christmas!” You echoed Leah’s words, grinning mischievously.

“Ha ha, very funny. I’ll give you ‘cheer up’” Jordan retorted with mock indignation as she climbed out of the car, “Looks like your mum’s already waiting at the door. How about you get Buddy out, and Monkey and I will grab the presents?”

“Sure,” Leah replied easily, moving to unbuckle Buddy.

You, however, scrunched up your nose, “Do I have to?” You groaned.

“Come on, there’s not a lot,” Jordan nudged you lightly with her elbow as she walked around to the boot, “I promise I won’t make you carry the heavy ones.”

“Fine,” You muttered, taking the smaller gift bag Jordan handed you.

“Merry Christmas!” Amanda’s cheerful voice greeted from where she stood on the doorstep, waiting to welcome you all inside.

“Hi, Mum!” Leah waved as she lifted Buddy out of her car seat, expertly balancing her on hip while shutting the door, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” Jordan shouted back in response.

“Oh, there’s Nana’s little princess!” Amanda cooed, her attention immediately on Buddy, “Merry Christmas, sweet girl.”

Leah faintly smiled, “She’s been a bit fussy this morning, and she hasn’t napped at all.”

“Oh, is that so?” Amanda frowned, her arms outstretched, “Are we being fussy for your Mummies, hm?” She scooped Buddy into her embrace, cradling with her with practiced ease.

“Just a little bit,” Jordan chuckled, catching up to her with the presents in hand.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Amanda greeted you, readjusting Buddy her arms so she could envelope you in a warm hug.

You smiled slightly in response, “Hi. Merry Christmas.” You greeted, though, you were still feeling a bit reserved and shy despite the festivities.

“Are they here yet? Are they here yet?” A voice boomed from inside the house as Jacob bolted down the stairs. His excitement was palpable as he skidded to a stop, “You’re here!” He exclaimed.

“Hi, J. Merry Christmas!” Leah greeted her younger brother, but his attention was entirely on you.

“Monkey!” Jacob yelled.

“Jacob!” You parroted with equal enthusiasm, your shyness now completely revoked.

Leah gave her brother an exaggerated look of mock hurt, “Wow. Just forget I exist, huh?”

“Best friend already,” Jordan chimed in, amusedly.

“Come check out the new Xbox game I got for Christmas! You have to see it” Jacob tugged at your arm, his excitement infectious.

You hesitated, the sudden attention making you flinch slightly, “Uh… Can I?” You turned to ask Leah and Jordan.

Leah nodded warmly, “Go ahead, Jacob seems itching to show you it.”

“Dinner’s not for a while yet,” Amanda piped in.

“Come on!” Jacob insisted as he practically dragged you toward the stairs, “Wait until you see it!” He called over his shoulder, practically vibrating with excitement..

Amanda chuckled as she watched you disappear upstairs, “They seem to be getting along already.”

“Like two peas in a pod,” Jordan agreed, settling down the presents in the hallway.

David appeared in a festive jumper, his face lighting up when he saw Leah, Jordan and Buddy, “I thought I heard familiar voices,” He teased, pulling Leah into a hug first, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas, Dad,” Leah smiled, returning the hug with the older man, “I love your jumper. Is that a Christmas gift from Mum?” She teased.

“Oh yes, your Mum brought it for me,” David chuckled, moving to exchange a hug with Jordan, “Hi, Jord. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, David,” Jordan replied, grinning.

David’s attention shifted to Buddy, “And here’s our little angel!” He cooed, tickling her sock-clad feet, “What’s with that frown?” He wondered, noticing the grumpy expression the 8 month old currently had on her face.

“She’s grumpy, I think she’s had too much excitement already,” Leah explained, amusedly.

“Oh I see,” David chuckled, reaching out to take Buddy from Amanda, “You want to come to Grandad for a cuddle? Oh, come here–  Are you having a good Christmas?” He cooed to the little girl in his arms.

“Yeah, we’ve tried to eat all of the wrapping paper of the presents this morning, haven’t we?” Leah cooed, gently stroking Buddy’s cheek, “I honestly think we’d have saved money just by giving her that.” She joked.

Amanda chuckled, shaking her head as they all headed further inside the house, “So, how’s it been so far?”

“Yeah, it’s been okay. We opened presents this morning, I think Monkey was a bit overwhelmed with the amount there was,” Leah began to explain in a gentle tone of voice, “But I think she’s liking it so far.”

“That’s good then,” Amanda smiled brightly, “Did she like the hoodie that we brought her, and everything else?” She asked.

“Oh, yeah. She loved it!”Leah replied, nodding in agreement, “She’s obsessed with Shrek so it was perfect!” She added.

Jordan chuckled, “You should have seen her face, it was a picture.”

“And how’s little miss been?” Amanda wondered, gesturing to Buddy, who was wriggling in David’s arms and eager to be close to the tree, “Did she enjoy opening her presents?”

“Oh, I think she was more interested in the wrapping paper than her actual presents,” Leah joked.

David laughed in amusement, “Well that’s to be expected of course at her age.”

"Yeah, she's obsessed with anything that she can grab and put in her mouth at this point,” Jordan retorted as she began to take her coat off, “The baubles and the lights on the tree haven't stood a chance.”

"Still trying to eat everything, huh? She's just like Leah when she was that age. Couldn't leave anything alone," David quipped, shooting a playful grin at Leah.

Jordan smirked, "That explains a lot."

Leah shot Jordan a look of outrage as she took her coat off and hung it up on the coat rack just as Amanda chimed in, "Your Grandma will be arriving shortly. I think she's looking forward to seeing both of the girls again."

Just then, Jacob's voice echoed from up the stairs, "Monkey has just beaten my high score!"

You couldn’t resist a cheeky reply, “Can’t help it if you’re a sore loser!” Your playful tone earned a round of laughter from the adults in the room.

“Well it sounds like those two are having fun at least,” Amanda remarked with a smile.

Leah turned her attention to Buddy, who was starting to squirm and whine in David’s arms, “Oh what’s the matter, bubba?” She cooed, gently taking the 8 month old back from the man.

“I think somebody’s a bit fussy and wants their mummy,” David cooed.

Leah kissed the top of Buddy’s head, bouncing her lightly, “Come here, bubba. You’re tired, aren’t you? There’s just so much excitement going on today, isn’t there? Everyone’s coming round to see you!”

Just then, the doorbell rang.

“Oh, that’ll be your Grandma arriving I think– Or maybe someone else,” Amanda said, heading toward the hall.

“I’ll go and answer it,” Leah shifted Buddy slightly in her arms, “Shall we go see who’s at the door, bubba? I wonder who it could be,” She murmured softly as she approached the door.

Opening it, Leah smiled warmly, “Oh look, it’s Grandma Berny!” She exclaimed, her voice tinged with excitement. Adjusting Buddy to free one arm, she leaned in to hug Berny, “Hi Grandma, Merry Christmas!”

“Hello, love,” Berny greeted, wrapping Leah in a warm hug before turning her attention to Buddy, “And if it isn’t Grandma’s little Christmas pudding! Oh, don’t you look absolutely adorable?” She cooed, gesturing to the outfit Buddy currently had on.

Leah smiled and offered Buddy to Berny, “You want to go to Grandma for a cuddle?”

“Oh, come here, darling,” Berny cooed, taking Buddy into her arms.

Leah glanced at the bags Berny carried, “Do you want me to take anything for you?” She wondered.

“Oh, if you could, thanks love,” Berny replied warmly, shifting Buddy slightly to give her a better grip. She turned her attention to the baby in her arms and smiled, “Are you having a good Christmas, darling? I bet your Mummies have spoiled you absolutely rotten, haven’t they?”

Leah chucked, her eyes full of affection as she watched the two, “She has been spoiled. They both have,” She admitted with a proud smile.

“I don’t doubt that for a second. Where is Monkey?” Berny asked curiously.

“She’s upstairs with Jacob playing on the Xbox,” Leah replied with a small smile.

“Oh I see,” Berny chuckled, knowingly, “Did she like her presents I bought her? Your mum mentioned you’d be opening them at home before you came over.”

"Yeah we figured it would be easier to do it all in one place to save Monkey feeling too overwhelmed, because this is all just so new to her. But she really did love all of her presents," Leah said warmly.

"I'm sure she did,” Berny said reassuringly, “She'll get used to it in no time, love. It'll just take a bit of time, won't it?"

Leah’s smile faltered, “Yeah, I hope so. It just makes me so sad that she's never gotten to experience this all before, you know?"

Berny nodded, her expression softening, “I know, love. But there are still so many years to make up for it.”

"Few years to make up for what?" Jordan’s voice chimed in as she entered the room/

"Hiya, Jord. Merry Christmas!" Berny greeted her warmly.

"Merry Christmas, Berny!" Jordan replied with a smile.

"I was just filling Grandma in on how this morning went with the girls opening their presents," Leah explained.

Jordan sighed lightly, “Oh yeah, I think it was a bit much for her.”

Leah’s jaw tightened, her frustration bubbling to the surface, “It just makes me sad that Monkey never properly experienced this all before, all because of that waste of space.” She said bitterly.

Jordan placed a gentle hand on Leah’s arm, “Careful, Le, she might hear you.”

“I just don’t get it,” Leah continued, her voice low but firm, “That man, honestly! He’s… He’s treated her horribly in the past. You can tell by the way she reacts sometimes.”

“I know, love,” Berny interjected softly, “But she’s a part of this family now, and we’re going to make it the best for her. I know you’re angry, but holding onto that won’t help anything now, will it?”

Leah exhaled deeply, nodding, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right there,”

“Exactly,” Berny said firmly, “Now, I need to go and say hello to your mum and dad. Has anyone else arrived yet?”

“No, you’re the first. But I don’t think they’ll be long,” Leah replied.

From upstairs, you couldn’t help but call out, “Jacob’s crying because he’s a sore loser!”

“I am not!” Jacob’s voice protested indignantly and loud enough to carry through the house.

“Oh, that sounds like trouble,” Leah muttered, wincing at the sheer volume of your teasing, “That’s my cue to go sort it out.”

“I think I’ll join you in the living room,” Jordan chuckled as she followed Berny back into the other room, “Good luck with that one, Le.”

You smirked as Leah’s footsteps approached, “What’s going on up here then?” She asked, stepping into the room.

“Jacob’s crying about the fact he’s losing his game,” You replied with a mischievous snicker, thoroughly amused by his sulking.

“I am not!” Jacob fired back, his cheeks flushing, “All I’m saying is–”

“All he’s saying is that he’s a complete sore loser who can’t handle it,” You interrupted with a cheeky grin.

“No, I’m not!” Jacob protested.

“Yeah, right,” You quipped, smirking at the lad.

Leah rolled her eyes playfully, “Alright, alright. It sounds like this arguing isn’t getting either of you anywhere. Grandma’s arrived if you want to come and say hello.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, glancing at Jacob with a smirk, “To be continued…”

“To be continued,” Jacob grumbled in response, clearly not over the teasing.

As you followed Leah out of the room, she glanced over her shoulder, her gaze softening, “What’s he like, eh? Honestly, such a big kid sometimes. You wouldn’t believe he’s 19,” She joked, noting your distant change of behaviour, “Hey, you alright? You’re very quiet all of the sudden.”

“I’m okay,” You murmured, keeping your voice steady.

“Are you sure?” Leah pressed gently, stopping to look at you properly, “Listen, I know today might feel like a lot for you, and it’s okay if it is.”

“I’m alright, I promise,” You assured her, even though your chest felt a little tight.

Leah nodded, but didn’t move just yet, “Alright, well, if it gets too much then you’ll let either me and Jord know, yeah?”

“I will,” You said, your voice soft.

“Good,” Leah said, a small smile tugging at her lips, “Okay good. We just want you to have the best Christmas this year, Monkey.”

“I’m okay,” You hesitated for a moment before speaking, “I’m enjoying the day… It’s just… Well, it’s a lot. I’ve never gotten anything like this before, and now with all of your family… I’ve just never gotten to experience anything like it.”

Leah crouched slightly to meet your gaze, “I can understand it’s a bit overwhelming for you, my girl.” She said softly.

“A little,” You admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up, “But I’m grateful! It’s just… I didn’t expect to get so many presents. I’m just still trying to wrap my head around it.”

Leah’s expression softened even more as she gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze, “You’re a part of this family now, Monkey, and you are so loved, my girl,” Her voice remained soft but steady, “You don’t have to try and wrap your head around it all at once. This is new, I know, but you deserve all of it, okay? Every single present, every cuddle and every once of love.”

You blinked, your throat tightening as her words sank in, “Thanks Le.” You managed to give her a small smile.

“That’s my girl,” Leah said, grinning as she pulled you into a warm hug, “Now, come on, let’s head down and see Grandma before she starts wondering where we’ve disappeared to.”

You followed Leah down the stairs, her hand still lightly on your back, grounding you. The warmth of the living room enveloped you as you entered, the hum of chatter, laughter, and the gentle crack of the fireplace filling the space.

“There she is,” Berny exclaimed, spotting you standing beside Leah, “Hello dear! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Berny,” You murmured shyly, feeling a slight blush creep onto your cheeks.

Amanda approached with a cup of tea for Berny, grinning as she glanced at you, “See, Mum? She’s fitting right in, isn’t she?”

“Of course she is!” Berny declared, beaming at you, “This family wouldn’t be the same without her now, would it?”

Leah flopped onto the sofa beside Jordan, while Buddy was nestled against her chest peacefully asleep, “I told you, Monkey. You’re stuck with us forever.”

“Forever,” Jordan echoed with a wink.

“I’m glad to be here,” You couldn’t help but smile a little wider, the overwhelming sensation from earlier ebbing away as you settled amongst the warmth of Leah’s family.

"Oh, I'm so full from Turkey. I don't think I could eat anymore," Jacob complained, slumping down in his seat.

"I'll second you on that one," Ben replied in agreement.

"Oh right, well in that case then, I guess it's more pudding for the rest of us!" Amanda joked, knowing it would spark a reaction.

"Pudding? I always have room for that!" Jacob exclaimed, sitting upright in his chair again.

The conversation continued as you glanced around the room. Here you were, sitting at the large table with Leah's family -- her mum's side at least. You donned an emerald paper hat on the top of your head, the result of winning a Christmas cracker earlier. The joke you pulled out with it had been painfully cringeworthy, yet it still made you giggle. In your hands was a small whistle you'd been blowing occasionally, much to Leah's annoyance. She had already shot you several pointed looks, though the little smirk on her lips betrayed her amusement.

"What's so special  about this pudding anyway?" You asked, leaning closer to Jacob and Ben.

"It's not about the pudding, Monks'," Jacob replied, declaring his own nickname he’d given you for himself, "It's about the tradition. And the custard. Lot's of custard."

"Don't forget the brandy sauce," Ben added with a grin.

"You lot had better save some for the rest of us!" Holly called from the other end of the table.

"What time is the Queen's speech on? We can't miss that!" One of Leah's Aunts questioned, you were a bit unclear on their name though since there was so many of them.

"Oh, it's about to start-- quick, somebody find the remote!" Amanda exclaimed, her sudden urgency making you jump slightly.

"Has anyone seen it?" Leah asked, standing up to help look.

"Found it!" David called, holding the remote up triumphantly.

If there's one thing you had learnt about today, it was that Leah's family was very patriotich when it came to anything to do with the royal family, as they all clustered around the TV.

Buddy, who had just woken up from her nap, was wide awake and wiggling around on her playmat that had been set down on the floor.

At least yourself, Jacob and Ben didn't seem too bothered about the speech though.

"What was so special about a speech from the Queen?" You whispered to Jacob, curious to know what had everyone so hooked.

"It's another tradition," Jacob replied, "Though it's a bit boring, really, if you ask me."

"It definitely is," Ben agreed, clearly unimpressed.

"Shush! It's starting!" Holly hissed, glaring at the three of you.

"Geesh, so serious," Jacob joked, winding his cousin up.

Ben snorted, leaning over to you, "She's always like this when the Queen's speech comes on. One year, she even shushed the dog."

"I heard that!" Holly said sharply, throwing a napkin in Ben's direction.

"Shush, you three," Leah chimed in, sending you a pointed look, but you couldn't help but giggle even more.

The speech began, and the room fell into a respectful silence-- well mostly. Buddy didn't want to be quiet, with her tiny fits and infectious giggles, and seemed completely uninterested in the royal tradition. She was quite happy to babble, grabbing her toys that you and Jacob waved in front of her.

"She's got the right idea," Ben joked, laughing softly as Buddy squealed in delight, "It's boring ain't it, little miss?"

Amanda shushed everyone, but you couldn't help but smile as Buddy wiggled happily, oblivious to the importance of the moment.

"Is it over yet?" You whispered to Jordan, who chuckled in amusement and wrapped her free arm around your shoulder, "How long does this thing go on for?"

"It's almost over, little one," Jordan replied in a hushed tone of voice.

You were most relieved when the speech ended, as Berny turned to the group and sighed contently, "That was lovely, as always. A nice way to reflect on the year."

"Reflect on how I've still never made it through the whole thing awake," Jacob muttered in response.

"Alright, who's ready for dessert, then?" Amanda asked, standing up, "We've got Christmas pudding, mince pies, yule log, and Ben's favourite-- trifle."

"Trifle? I've got room for trifle!" Jacob declared, already heading toward the kitchen.

"Of course, you do," Leah muttered, rolling her eyes.

Amanda caught your eye and smiled warmly, "Do you want to help me serve, sweetheart?"

"Uhm, sure," You replied with a slight bit of hesitance, standing to follow her.

As you helped bring out the desserts, Amanda leaned in closer, "How are you enjoying the day? It's so lovely to have you here with us, you know."

"Thank you," You said, a bit shyly, "It's been nice. It's different from what I'm used to, but still good."

"I'm glad," Amanda said gently, "I know change can be difficult sometimes, but Leah and Jordan, I know they think the world of you. They're so proud of how far you've come."

You felt a lump in your throat at her kind words, "I'm really grateful for them, and for being here with you all, too... And, thank you for my presents. I didn't expect anything, I love my Shrek hoodie."

"You're welcome, sweetheart. We're the lucky ones to have you as part of this family now," Amanda moved her free arm around to give you a side hug, "Now, let's get this dessert out before Jacob starts to raid the fridge now, eh?"

The evening continued with more laughter and chatter as the pudding was served. Buddy sat in her high chair, clapping her hands excitedly as Leah fed her small spoonfuls of custard.

"You're going to spoil her," Jordan teased, watching Leah's doting behaviour.

"She's just enjoying Christmas, aren't you, bubba?" Leah cooed, pressing a kiss to Buddy's cheek.

As the evening began to wound down, you found yourself nestled on the sofa in between Leah and Jordan as the family gathered for a raucous game of charades.

"No, that's cheating-- You can't do that!" Leah shot out in protest.

Ben chuckled, "Why not? It's not in the rules!"

"Yes it is," Leah fired back, her competitive streak showing.

"No it's not," Ben scoffed, "Someone? Help us out here..." He looked to the rest of the family for their help.

Holly glanced over the rules briefly on her phone after a quick Google search, "He's right, Le. It's not in the rules that he can't." She added, sticking up for her younger brother.

"Since when?" Leah muttered in disbelief, arching an eyebrow.

"Since always if you read the rules," Ben quipped, smirking.

"Outrageous that is!" Leah scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, before it was time to take her turn.

"You call that a gorilla? It looks more like a constipated penguin," Jacob teased as Leah flailed her arms around.

Leah took the chance to throw a cushion at him, "You couldn't even guess 'Kangaroo' so you can't talk!"

You were starting to feel yourself growing tired, opting to rest your head on Jordan's shoulder, "You doing alright, little one? I know it's been a big day."

"M' okay,"  You replied quietly in agreement, not wanting to stir too much attention to yourself, "It's been the best Christmas I've ever had." You added, wrapping your free arm around her.

Jordan smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, "Good, you deserve it, Monkey."

You couldn't help but faintly smile, watching in amusement at the bickering between Leah and Jacob still about the game as your eyelids started to become heavier.

"I think it's time to call it a night," David retorted, motioning to the way you were practically almost falling asleep, "Monkey's falling asleep."

"M' not tired," You protested against the idea, but the way you couldn't keep your eyes open spoke for a lot of things.

Leah turned her attention away from the competitive game, her lips quirking into a knowing smile, "I think you might be right there, Dad," She agreed, taking a glance at the clock, "Alright, time for bed."

You would be spending the night in Leah's childhood home, so at least you didn't have to travel back to London tonight, considering Leah and Jordan had both had a bit to drink and neither of them could drive under the circumstances.

You groaned softly at the suggestion, not thrilled with the idea of leaving the comforting warmth of Jordan's shoulder, "M' not tired." You mumbled again,  though the sleepy slur in your voice gave you away completely.

Jordan chuckled, gently nudging you upright, "You can keep saying that, but your heavy eyes are telling us a different story, little one."

Buddy, meanwhile, was still awake, babbling happily on Amanda's lap, her tiny hands reaching for Amanda's face as she giggled, "I think this one's trying to pull an all-nighter," She joked, bouncing Buddy lightly.

Leah smiled as she approached, effortlessly scooping Buddy into her arms, "Oh, no, missy," She cooed, "It's bedtime, isn't it, bubba?" However, Buddy responded with delighted squeals, clearly not in agreement.

"Come on, little one," Jordan said, standing up from the sofa as she reached out to help you up, her strong arms steadying you as you wobbled slightly.

You sighed, reluctantly letting her guide you towards the stairs, "But it's still Christmas," You murmured, glancing back at the warm inviting living room and the game still going on.

"And Christmas will still be here tomorrow morning," Leah reminded you with a gentle smile as she followed, Buddy snuggled in her arms, "You're exhausted, you need to sleep, my girl, so you can wake up tomorrow and enjoy Boxing Day fun."

Jordan led you up the stairs, her hand warm and reassuring on your back, "Besides," She said with a smile, "We can't have our Monkey turning into a zombie tomorrow, now, can we?"

You mumbled a small protest, but it was half-hearted at best. The truth was, you were far too tired to argue properly. Each step you took up the stairs felt heavier, and the idea of the comfy bed was becoming more and more appealing.

Leah trailed behind with Buddy, who was still wide-eyed and squirming with excitement, "This one's determined to stay awake," She said with a small laugh, pressing a kiss to Buddy's cheek, "It's time to sleep now, bubba. Something tells me we're in for a bit of a challenge with the baby."

Once upstairs, you managed to change into your pyjamas with some help from Jordan, the soft fabric instantly adding to your comfort. You climbed under the warm duvet, letting out a small sigh as you nestled into the cozy bed.

"Are you comfy?" Jordan asked, leaning down to flick on the bedside lamp.

"Mhm," You murmured sleepily, clutching your stuffed animal close.

"Good," Jordan replied, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, "Good, I'm glad. Get some rest, little one."

Leah peeked into the room a moment later, Buddy now resting her hand on Leah's shoulder in a cozy onesie, her eyes beginning to flutter closed, "All sorted in here?" She asked softly, her gaze warm as she took in the sight of you snuggled up.

"Le... Are all these football shirts yours?" You asked, your curiosity slipping through your sleepiness as your gaze wandered around Leah's childhood bedroom. The walls were adorned with Arsenal and England shirts, each marking a moment in her career.

Leah chuckled, stepping further into her old bedroom, "They are," She said proudly, "Hopefully more to come." She passed Buddy to Jordan for a moment, leaning down to tuck you in properly under the duvet, "Sweet dreams, my girl. We'll see you in the morning."

"Night, Le. Night, Jord," You mumbled, a soft yawn escaping your lips.

"Goodnight, Monkey," Jordan whispered as she turned off the bedside lamp, her voice soothing in the quiet.

Leah lingered for a moment longer, gently adjusting the covers before adding, "We love you."

Just as they turned to leave, you spoke up, your voice small and soft, "Le? Jord?"

They both paused in the doorway, "Yeah?"

"Thank you... For the best Christmas," Your mumbled, half asleep as you could barely keep your eyes open any longer.

Leah's smile widened, her heart swelling at your words, "You're welcome, my girl." She said warmly.

With Buddy now dozing in her arms, Leah glanced at Jordan as they left her childhood bedroom, "Boxing Day's going to be chaos, isn't it?"

Jordan chuckled quietly, nodding, "Absolute chaos, but that's what will make it fun."

jordannobbs posted

liked by bethmead_ and 1,106 others

jordannobbs nothing better than the magic of christmas time and spending it with the ones' closest to you🎅🏼🎄✨

a day full of excitement for both the girls who have been absolutely spoilt rotten. now all tucked up in bed and ready to do it all again tomorrow! 🤭

merry christmas to you all, from the williamson-nobbs family x

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leahwilliamsonn our two girls 🥹 they really have had the best first christmas 💗

view 11 replies liked by 110 others

katie_mccabe11 merry christmas!! hope the girls have a had a great day x

view 6 replies liked by 12 others

bethmead_ oh buddy's little face with her santa hat on! 🎅🏼❤️

view 10 replies liked by 22 others

jenbeattie merry christmas girls! is monkey still terrified of the man in red and white? 🤣

view 3 replies liked by 19 others

stephcatley spoilt girlies. we love you so much 🥹💗

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© scribblesofagoonerr

[writingwisterias]

Day 24: Pregnancy Kink

Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Pregnant! Reader

Warnings: SMUT, Pregnancy, Pregnancy sex, Pregnancy kink, established relationship

Masterlist

There were many presents underneath the tree, some beautifully hand wrapped by you and some had an attempt by Leon. The lights gave off a warm glow against the red and gold theme, a few personalized baubles lingering in spots. Tinsel decorated the walls in low hung strips, along with various other decorations. Leon loved it. This small home he had found and crafted with you at the heart. His present was the biggest this year, his eyes often lingering on it as he tried to figure it out without touching. A small game he had made for himself. You both wanted a quiet Christmas one final one before the impending arrival of your first baby came. So your parents had dropped off their gifts, the pile larger than he had ever seen. Most of them no doubt for the baby.

You were elsewhere in the house, he could hear the sweet tunes leave your lips as you hummed to yourself. He hated how active you were still, despite only being 6 months along. Always finding things to do, thanks to his job you were able to take an early maternity leave and not worry about the financial situation from it. He found you in the nursery, folding up the many clothes you had been preparing since finding out the gender. A girl. Something that he didn't know he needed until he found out, his heart already full of love for her.

“She's not even here yet and has got you doing her laundry” he joked. You jolted slightly after having not heard him enter the room but you still greeted him with a warm smile. The brightest thing he has ever laid his eyes on. “Someone's gotta do it, her daddy has been staring at the presents all day” you teased. Oh how you loved his laugh, the natural belly laugh he only seemed to use when you were around. “Maybe I can open one early?” He smirked “might tempt me not to stare at them anymore”

“You are talking like you already have you eye on one”

Of course he did. He was a giant child at heart, practically swaying on his feet as he waited for your answer. You nodded, holding your hands out for him to help you up. You smiled as his hands instantly found your waist, tucking you into his side as he sped walked into the living room. His smile was childish as looked amongst the gifts, searching the tags for the ones that signed your name. You watched as he realized the one he wanted was from you, heavy and hard. Almost like a book. “Choosing that one?” you smirked at him. Leon nodded his hair falling all over his face as he exaggerated the movement.

His fingers worked delicately on the tape, making sure not to rip the wrapping paper. It was definitely a book only the cover was black, adding to the alluding mystery he had created in his small mini game. He could see you smile - a small timid one as he opened the pages. An album, filled with images of a place he didn't recognize. It wasn't until he turned the next page he was shocked. Your maternity photo shoot…in lingerie?

Leon had made numerous comments on your changes as they came, his erection more prominent when he would gaze upon at night. ‘There's nothing sexier than what you are doing for our future’ he would always claim. He was more than happy to satisfy your hormones early on in the pregnancy. His cock was probably red and sore with the amount of times you woke him up needing him. Yet as you grew your frustrations increased but his willingness to help decreased in fear of hurting you. Something completely justified but it left you aching. To combat this you booked a boudoir shoot. Dressing yourself up and being guided into the sexier positions with the photographer. The idea was being saved until a wedding came around, always wanting to give it to him on your wedding day. But times grew desperate as did you.

“Honey this is…wow”

That's all he has to say? After that time and money you put into modelling this, just for a touch. You were sad, almost going to cry because of these damn hormones until you saw it. The curve in his sweatpants that slowly grew with a small twitch. His breath hitching as he turned the page. Leon couldn't describe how turned he was, the erection came almost instantly. At least he knew his drinking hadn't affected it yet. You had made him his own version of a playboy magazine, looking extremely attractive whilst being swollen with evidence of himself. “Is it good?” You asked, your voice timid as you shrunk in on yourself. Leon chuckled, his eyes finally meeting yours with a darkened glare. One that held only pure admiration and lust.

He stalked over to you, sitting on the sofa beside you. His lips encased your own, keeping you trapped in a whirlpool of affection and passion. His hands fell onto your hips gently hitching up the fabric of your summer dress until he found the waistband of your underwear. “Leon? Did you like it?”

His heart cracked at you attempting to seek his approval, as if his actions weren't words enough as your insecurities grew. “I loved it”

With that he guided you on his lap, enjoying the feel of you as your lips crashed against each other in another battle for dominance. Your hands worked on his buttons whilst he slipped your underwear aside. Leon slid into you with ease, his thrusts shallow and small as you worked yourself on his cock. Admiring your breasts in the small dress you were wearing, how they now grew in size. Your small belly pressing against his as you rocked against him. It was heavenly, he wanted nothing more than to be treated like this. In the corner of his eye he could see the present open on the floor, the imagery only spurring him on further until he finally felt his balls tighten.

His load coated your walls, the warmth spreading inside causing them to flutter and clench around his softening cock as you orgasmed around him. Your head landed in his neck, catching your breath. After all, it had been a while since you could do this for so long. Leon lifted you up, the two of you still connected. Silently carrying you to the bedroom where you assumed he was going to continue giving you an early Christmas present.

Taglist: @kasueli@luvrgreyy@michellekmsh@miss0giarra@cinnabunnysavvy@redollface@my-loved-figure-skates@luvlouiee@drawboo22@moth-quasar@nyxxoxo@crazy-b1tch

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

Fic Present!!!

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays! While I am not posting it on AO3 until the whole fic is complete, I wanted to give you guys a festive gift, so please see below the cut for the first chapter of Heads Will Roll.

Siblings in Slaughter

1.

"When the wind blows from the East, expect the new and set the feast."

James Potter cleaned his dagger in the river when the deed was done.

His comrade-in-arms griped at him for it, but Sirius was right to complain. Neither he nor James were wielders of cheap steel, or the kind of workmanship which might deserve to be plunged into a river and shaken out to dry once removed. That particular dagger had been forged in the guild of the Hephaestans, who were the grandmasters of their trade. With an edge so sharp that it could cut iron and a blade imbibed with elven enchantments, it was entitled to the same attention that Sirius lavished upon his own weapons of a dry summer evening, when he would arch across his sword as if in prayer, applying oils and buffing indiscernible marks with the tender care of a parent who nurses their sickly child.

The more James relied upon rivers and lakes to cleanse his blade, the sooner he would find himself in need of another.

But they'd just slain a cockatrice, and an angry one at that.

The battle had worn on for what felt like an eternity and grew no easier once James had taken care of the beast's eyes to leave their way clear. Upon finding itself blinded, the sound it let out was bone-chilling, and it thrashed like hell unleashed, swiping viciously with its barbed tail and lunging wherever it heard sound. Its last earthly accomplishment, before Sirius lopped its galline head off with a clean swipe of his sword, was to gouge its rage into James's shoulder with a talon that was sharper than his wits.

The wound it left was not deep, and it would heal before the sun arose tomorrow, but his inertia had no immediate solution. The beast had taken a full day to track, and James was tired. Bone tired. Too tired to tend to the dagger, or his sword, or the silver tipped arrows that rustled in the quiver on his back. He made a shoddy attempt at wiping the mud from his boots and hauled himself atop his horse with Sirius's admonishments wafting over his head, too lethargic to properly hear them.

No doubt he'd repeat them tomorrow. He almost always did.

The ride back to Thorney Pass was a quick one, barely five miles, but sitting upright and awake felt like a struggle until they reached the inn, blood-stained but victorious, with a monster's head swinging from Sirius's saddle, and were treated to a hero's welcome by the small number of townsfolk who had remained there to wait—without much hope, perhaps—for their return.

"Bed," he mouthed to Sirius amidst the hubbub, and his brother nodded his understanding. It would be Sirius who collected their payment from the town elder and saw to it that the horses were settled for the night this time, while James retreated to their lodgings to rest. The inn was one of the nicer establishments in town, and their room a cosy space with two plush feather beds and a spacious copper bathtub, which the innkeeper—recently widowed by the cockatrice, whose head he would now mount upon his wall—was only too happy to have filled. Once alone, James divested himself of his weapons and clothing and sank into the steaming water with a grateful sigh, eager to scrub the stench of death from his body before turning in for the night.

When he awoke, what must have been hours later, the water he lay in was cold and he was shivering, while Sirius slept soundly in one of the beds, his slow, even breathing lending the room an air of peace that their occupation so rarely allowed them to enjoy.

He had cleaned and polished James's dagger and sword; they lay on the low wooden table beneath the window, next to a neatly-folded pile of clothes that James had earlier cast off and strewn haphazardly about the room.

In the moonlight they gleamed pristinely, vivid in their splendour, siblings in slaughter, alert like living things.

James needed, he reflected, to start taking better care of his weapons.

And himself.

He needed to take better care of himself.

*

"I've lined up another job for us."

"Another one?"

"In Upper Hangleton."

"The place with the library?"

"Yes, Upper Hangleton," Sirius repeated through a mouthful of blood sausage. He cleared his throat when he swallowed and ran his tongue along his top set of teeth, checking for imperfections. "About a day's ride from here."

The words were innocuous, even expected, but they curdled in the ear like sour milk.

The inn was bustling that morning, and while James would have liked to attribute that solely to the excellent breakfasts that the innkeeper had presented them with, he had lived this precise situation enough times to know that he and Sirius were the attraction of the hour. Word of the cockatrice's death would have spread overnight, as it always did, and the townsfolk were as curious as townsfolk always were, crowding the inn in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the mysterious, travelling heroes who had saved them from the beast who stalked their homes. The attention that surrounded their booth was palpable enough to run a blade through, and it was a tale as old as time itself after ten years on the road. The disbelief and uncertainty that greeted them at every new location would soon give way to grateful, ardent fawning, to cheers and gifts and victory feasts, even to fathers who offered their maiden daughters as brides, and saw not how they were monsters in a rather different sense. Each town to which they were summoned became a copy of the one that went before it, after a fashion. Only the beasts would vary.

James's mother had once warned them both that consistent adulation could ruin a man who wasn't prepared to nurture a healthy sense of shame, and while his younger self had paid her no mind, lapping up praise like praise alone could keep him breathing, the man that he had become felt as if those very same words were stitched into his soul.

He was tired.

Not in body. He was twenty-seven years old, in excellent physical condition, and a healthy sleeper.

But the rest…

"We can't take another job, we're going home," he reminded Sirius. This had been their agreement when they consented to take on the cockatrice.

"Yeah, I know," Sirius agreed, his demeanour unconcerned, "and Upper Hangleton is on the way."

"Give or take a detour of about thirty miles."

"What's thirty miles in the grand scheme of things?"

"In the grand scheme of things," James growled through his teeth, gripping his knife as he sawed through his breakfast with vigour, "you promised that we were going home after this job, and the job's done. Now is when we go home."

"We will go home. Mother and Father aren't shuffling off the mortal coil just yet, they can wait a little longer to see us."

"Maybe they can, but I can't. I'm bloody exhausted."

"The letter arrived this morning, while you were still asleep; they must have heard that we were here." From within an inner pocket of his aged leather overcoat, Sirius withdrew a shortened sheet of parchment and placed it in the centre of the table. "From the library's custodian, no less."

James spared the letter a brief glance and resumed his frustrated attack on his bacon, which was cooked so well it was almost burned black, resting on a slab of thick, warm bread and creamy butter which had been freshly churned—or so the innkeeper assured him—that very morning. Just how he liked it. "I don't want to see some silly library."

"A library that houses the largest and most diverse collection of books in the country is not some silly library," his brother coolly retorted, "and the letter—"

"I don't care about the letter."

"Just read it, alright?" Sirius slapped his palm down on the letter with such emphasis that their tankards rattled, and pushed it towards James. "Read it and then make up your mind."

There was very little arguing with Sirius when he got the bit between his teeth, and James could have stormed off, but his breakfast was the price he'd pay for his desertion, and this might have been the last good meal he'd get to enjoy for days. Not every inn they frequented served up food of such a high standard.

He picked up the letter with a hearty scoff and skimmed it, swiftly bypassing the usual pleasantries, the writer's apologies for having disturbed them, and his description of the town, until…

Hah.

He looked up from the letter and searched his brother's face for the punchline, incredulous.

None came.

"A hellbeast," he flatly read aloud, in case he had imagined such stupidity. "You think a hellbeast is on the prowl in Upper Hangleton?"

Sirius crossed his arms beneath his chest and smirked.

"Can't be," James insisted.

"Could be."

"It can't."

"You're no fun. What kind d'you reckon it is?" his brother asked, ignoring his scepticism completely. His eyes were alight with the kind of excitement that only an unknown, potentially undefeatable enemy could stir within him. "A Cerberus? A Cù-Sith?"

"Yeah, you're right, what would I know? Could even be a Black Shuck," James dryly suggested, more interested in his breakfast than in entertaining this nonsense. He put the letter down and pushed it back across the table without finishing it. "Or it could be an overdramatic murderer who disguises their kills as the act of one of the rarest monsters in existence."

"Yeah, it could." His smirk undiminished, Sirius tapped the bottom half of the letter with two fingers. "But there was a witness, so eat up and let's get moving, princess."

He leaned back in his seat and threw a wink at some of the women who were watching them from the bar and in whom, James knew, he couldn't have been less interested, because that was just the kind of shit-eating git he was. Sirius wasn't interested in anyone, but they flocked to him in their droves, entranced by his pale, pouty-lipped beauty, by his inscrutability, and by the fantasy of capturing the heart of a handsome monster hunter. The most that anyone could hope to get was a night of indulgence in his body before he coolly sent them on their way, alongside their disappointed hopes. He had no appetite for romance and little capacity for affection; he loved the job, loved their parents, and loved James best of all, but that was all he had room for.

No more, no less.

But it certainly would have suited James much better if Sirius could love the job a little bit less.

"I need a break," he helplessly pointed out. There was no victory to be found here. Sirius would get his way, as Sirius always did. "We both agreed that we needed a break."

"But this is a hellbeast."

"It probably isn't!"

"And what if it is?" Sirius challenged. "And what would Mother say if she knew we'd ignored the summons?"

Knowing well what his mother would say, and not stupid enough to fall into that trap, James fixed him with a flat stare and shoved a hunk of bacon into his mouth.

"One more job. Just one. Then we'll go home for a few months," his brother wheedled, utterly unconvincing in his attempt to look sympathetic, so James continued to stare and chew and stare, and Sirius held up his hands as if in surrender. "We will, I mean it this time."

It was a pointless endeavour. An imminently wasteful journey.

There was no hellbeast in Upper Hangleton. Couldn't be.

But if there was…

Well, fuck.

Because what if there was?

"One of these days, Sirius," he sighed, slumping over his breakfast, weary with defeat. "One of these days I swear I'll kill you."

"Stop moaning," Sirius chided, and flashed his gleaming teeth. "You know you love it really."

James's response was to grumble wordlessly into his eggs.

*

As much as James would have preferred to return to London and sleep for a complete lunar cycle, whenever he committed to a job, he committed to that job.

There was no hellbeast in Upper Hangleton.

Of this much he was certain.

There was a beast to contend with, however, and it had claimed several lives, and that was enough.

So here he was, in Upper Hangleton, a small East Anglian town contained almost entirely within the outer fringes of a thick, expansive forest named Corvid Copse; a town so sleepy it was practically comatose; a town that had nothing of note to boast of but a library of some renown, and where nothing much of note had ever happened until now.

Here he was.

Committed.

The promise of a delicious supper from the widowed innkeeper had kept them in Thorney Pass for longer than expected, so they rode through the night and reached their destination the next morning, stopping first at the famed library to meet the man who had summoned them.

James came to realise, when they arrived, that he had expected quite a lot of the library without ever consciously considering it—marble statues or intricate paintings, or a great domed ceiling, perhaps, something grandiose to mark its reputation—and the medieval battlement that housed it was certainly imposing, but once inside, they found themselves confronted with a library that was a library in the most macabre sense, a library with thick stone walls, stone floors, and no windows to speak of. The crenelles which had been notched into the walls centuries back allowed for only draughts and meagre threads of natural light to struggle through, so fireplaces and long, tapered candles were doing most of the heavy lifting, and glass-encased lanterns were provided to those who wished to explore among the shelves, or stay and read a while.

It was with a low whistle that Sirius took one of the lanterns and promptly wandered off, leaving James to talk to the custodian. Speaking with the public was the only part of the job that Sirius didn't relish with a reverence that inched close to worship, but James could coax a conversation out of a tree if it took his fancy, and played the role of interviewer gladly.

The man's name was Remus Lupin, a tall and rather slight fellow with a closely cropped beard and light brown hair that fell to his chin. He looked to be around James and Sirius's age, which seemed young for a head custodian, but people had been saying that about them both since they first took up the sword at seventeen, so James was of no mind to assume that his capabilities were lacking.

Lupin also shared his scepticism in regards to the creature.

"I thought it all a bit far-fetched, to be frank, but Mrs Abbott insisted that she knows what she saw," he disclosed, having invited James to take a seat at his desk near the entrance. "There hasn't been one confirmed sighting of a genuine hellbeast in England in centuries, from what I could uncover, so at first I thought it more likely to be an Acromantula, perhaps even an Erymanthian boar, although goodness knows how one of those could have found its way to a place like this."

"You seem to know your monsters," James remarked, impressed.

"Oh, I don't particularly, this is all a result of some cursory research, after the first few attacks," admitted Lupin, shuffling through some papers that were littered across his desk. "Of course, that was when I assumed that the attacks would be more frequent, but as they are…" His fingers stilled over a sheet of parchment, upon which several notes had been written in a neat and precise hand, and he let out a short, sheepish breath of laughter. "My apologies, I forget who I'm talking to. You likely need my opinion on this matter about as much as I need yours on antique book restoration."

James grinned. "Is there much profit in antique book restoration?"

"I profit in spirit, if only that counted."

"If I knew how you could profit financially, I might have an opinion," James returned, with a laugh of his own. It was a shame that Sirius had wandered off; this bloke was sharp. "But I won't take offence if you want to share yours."

"That's quite alright, I shall leave the hypothesising to you, but I have written down the facts as I was given them, if that might prove useful." Lupin lifted his sheet of notes. "Unfortunately, there have been two more attacks in the time since I first wrote."

James reached out for the sheet of parchment and Lupin handed it over. "In one night?"

"One last night, another the night before, which makes for three consecutive attacks, the same as last time."

With a quick nod to indicate that he was listening, James read through Lupin's list of victims, leaning close to a flickering candle to better see.

First attack - Mr Clive and Mrs Elsie Bishop - night of May 4th or morning of May 5th - bodies discovered at Nethermere on the morning of May 5th

Second attack - Mr Aethelred Green - night of May 5th or morning of May 6th - body discovered at Nethermere on the afternoon of May 6th

Third attack - Master Alfred Nott - early morning of May 7th - attacked in the rose garden of Nott House, witnessed by Miss Margaret Nott from her bedroom window - the distance between the window and the rose garden is approximately 120 yards and the attack was witnessed in darkness - Miss Nott described the creature as dark and gigantic - body was left in the rose garden

Fourth attack - Mr Richard Abbott - night of June 3rd - taken by the beast while returning from the Old George, yards from his home on Thackery Lane, witnessed by Mrs Anne Abbott from the front door - witness described the creature as enormous and dark with sharp claws and glowing red eyes, claims that it was speaking in demonic tongues - creature used its mouth to drag the victim away as he struggled - body located at Nethermere on the morning of June 4th

Fifth attack - Miss Winifred Calvert - night of June 4th or early morning of June 5th - body discovered on southern forest trail to Nethermere on the morning of June 5th

Sixth attack - Mr Archie Faircroft - night of June 5th or early morning of

James looked up at Lupin, who was watching him closely. "This one is unfinished?"

"I was updating it as you arrived," he said, "but there wasn't anything new to report. It seems that every victim was taken whilst outdoors, despite the curfew we've enacted, because there were no signs of struggle in any of their homes, and the body was found at Nethermere like the majority of the others, in much the same state as the rest."

"And what state was that precisely?"

"Ripped apart." Lupin's voice was impassive, but one hand was resting sideways on his desk, and the fingers that curled tightly into his palm told a different story. Whatever he may have been feeling, he saw the importance of a dispassionate retelling of facts. Too often, James and Sirius were confronted with witnesses on the verge of hysteria, witnesses who misremembered and exaggerated their experiences. That may still have happened with Miss Nott and Mrs Abbott, but Lupin had at least attempted to condense them into a form that made logical sense. "Limbs missing. Chunks torn from flesh. Bloodless," he added, with a slight, barely perceptible shudder. "Completely bloodless."

"Can I grab that quill?"

"Go ahead."

James, who never seemed to have a quill on him, reached over the desk, plucked Lupin's from its inkpot, gave it a quick shake and scribbled some fresh notes in his own, untidy scrawl. Dismembered. Drained. Consumed. "And Nethermere is?"

"The lake. It's a popular beauty spot with the locals for fishing, bathing, picnicking and such—at least it was—located about a mile from here if you take the western forest trail."

"Does the southern trail also lead to the lake?"

"It does, although it takes a little longer."

"And Nott House." Common kill site. Den? Ritualistic? "Is that close to Nethermere?"

"Nott House is an estate in itself," Lupin explained. "The front of the house overlooks the lake, but from the opposite bank. Alfred was…" His jaw twitched, then tightened resolutely, and he directed his gaze towards something to the left of James's shoulder. "His death was a particular shame. He was only fifteen years old, you see. Had a sweetheart in town, Jenny Smith, and we think he may have been sneaking out to see her, which would explain why he was in the rose garden. He often brought her flowers."

"Are you close with the family?"

"In a sense," he said quietly. His efforts to curb his emotions concerning the child's murder seemed to have won out, but barely. "I was his tutor for a time, and the family trusts me—more than they trust the parish constabulary, in any case. The Notts are responsible for paying your fare, in fact. The constabulary is under the impression that it can get to the bottom of the matter without outside interference, but there isn't much confidence in their ability to do so, and the Notts want to know what killed their son."

James cast his mind back over his and Sirius's overnight ride to Upper Hangleton, and to the way the star-dotted, inky black sky had looked when Sirius pointed out Canis Major, as he was frequently wont to do.

He wrote one final note at the bottom of the page.

"So they asked you to hire us?" he asked Lupin.

"When the attacks began again and it became clear that the constabulary were out of their depth, yes, they'd learned that you were nearby and asked me to write, along with several other neighbours and friends."

"Right," said James, scrunching his nose to one side. "You seem to have a lot of people relying on you considering, well…" He gestured across the desk. "Unless you're a centuries-old alchemist with the secret to eternal youth, surely you're a bit young for all of that?"

Lupin's mouth twitched like he wanted to smile. "I had my twenty-seventh birthday in the spring."

"When exactly?"

"March."

"I had my twenty-seventh birthday in March."

Lupin pointed to his own chest. "The 10th. You?"

"The 27th," James returned, and they exchanged upwards nods in the way that people often did when acknowledging that common ground had been discovered, no matter how inconsequential the similarity might have been. "Mind you, I don't doubt your capability at all, but is it not a bit unusual for a man our age to perform duties that a town elder would usually take on?"

"Well, my father was the town elder for fifteen years," said Lupin, "and very popular, but he passed away in the autumn and afterwards it seemed to fall to me to shoulder his burdens, somehow."

"I see."

"They still haven't appointed another elder, so it seems that the matter is settled," Lupin continued, candlelight dancing across his freckled face, "though I'm sure that if they did, I'd miss the qualifying mark by a solid thirty years."

"The only reward for competence is more work," quoted James.

"I've never heard it put that way before, but you're quite right."

"Can't take credit for that nugget of wisdom; it's something my mother always says. I'm quite daft, really."

"Monster hunting expertise aside?"

"That aside, yeah. My genius is confined to killing manticores and ghouls." He patted the scabbard that hung from his belt. Contained within was his sword, buffed and polished with a devotion and expertise that James did not deserve any credit for. "We'll get rid of that problem for you easily enough, by the by. The last kill site hasn't been cleaned up yet, has it?"

Lupin's gaze lingered on the sword's pommel for a few moments, then he shook his head.

"No," he said. "The constabulary sent volunteers to clean during the first spate of attacks but the Notts have exerted their considerable influence to prevent that from happening, so you'll find the way clear for an examination."

"Perfect. We'll make our way there once my brother returns from his travels."

"Quite right," said Lupin tightly, his attention falling to the sword pommel once again. "I'm sorry to ask, but…is that Haphaestan-forged?"

He did look sorry about it, sorry and uncomfortable to have dared to ask a simple question, which was really quite funny, but James didn't want to insult his hospitality by laughing at him.

He bent forwards and placed the quill back into the inkpot instead. "My sword?"

"If that was rude, I apologise, I just—"

"Nah, it's not. Their guild in Tower Hamlets handles all of our weapons, actually. Well spotted."

"Ah," said Lupin on a breath. Possibly a relieved breath. "I thought I recognised the maker's mark."

"They're the best around."

"So I've heard. And is—is the blade inlaid with silver?"

"See for yourself, if you want," he said, rising to his feet to withdraw the weapon from its scabbard and place it lengthways on the desk.

He would not have done it if his new acquaintance hadn't seemed such a decent sort, and probably shouldn't have done it regardless—Sirius certainly would have told him off for it, were he not neck deep in dusty tomes in an attempt to escape human contact—but it felt like the right decision, and the immediate, almost childlike excitement that sprang up in Lupin's eyes from the moment the blade tasted air and he sprang to his own feet, leaning forwards to bring his face closer to the sword, his hands braced on either end of the desk, felt gratifying in the same way it was gratifying whenever James made his brother laugh so hard he spurted ale out of his nose.

More gratifying than killing something with it, in any case.

"It's a fine weapon," Lupin breathed, openly drinking in the sight of it. "Excellent craftsmanship. Damascened in silver, yes?"

James nodded. "Some of master Ollivander's finest work, that."

"What's the story behind the scene depicted?"

"No idea," James admitted, staring down at the central panels on the blade, which depicted a stag and doe together amongst the woodlands. "Ollivander doesn't take suggestions, he crafts a sword that 'best befits you' and won't tell you why."

"And it handles well? Good balance?"

"It handles beautifully." A rather reckless thought occurred to him. "D'you want to swing it at something?"

For a moment, Lupin looked up at James as if all his birthdays had come at once, but there was an ominous creak, and suddenly the library's entrance hall was bathed in brilliant sunshine. Someone had thrown the door open on the perpetual twilight which seemed to exist within this odd building, someone who snapped the custodian's spine into a ramrod straight position in an instant, as if the very desk he was leaning over had spontaneously burst into flame.

"Miss Booth," he muttered faintly, looking rather as if his face had burst into flame as well.

Ah.

The glance James tossed over his shoulder was rather pointless, as the sunlight made it impossible to make out much beyond the visitor's silhouette, but he didn't need to see her properly to know that she would be pretty. For most living, breathing mortals, there was no better distraction from an item of importance than that of a pretty face, though Sirius would claim otherwise and James had learned to form an immunity against silly romantic notions years ago. This Miss Booth proved his theory right within seconds by advancing upon the desk as the door creaked shut with a lilting, "morning, Remus," and a bust swathed tightly in a cunning yellow bodice, her dark hair falling to her waist and catching the candlelight like a waterfall of silk.

She was, as expected, very pretty.

And as for the custodian, he was fortunate that his blush was shielded by the return of semi-darkness, but the sword was quite forgotten.

"Good morning," he managed to return without a stammer. "What a pl—what a surprise to see you back so soon."

Miss Booth slipped a book—The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling—from beneath her arm and placed it on the desk. If she was taken aback to see a sword there, it did not show in her face.

"Oh, I know," she sighed her agreement, "but Mama simply couldn't put it down. I think it's these monsters that have been prowling about, you know? She can't sleep a wink for worrying, and when she can't sleep, she reads. Voraciously."

All of this she said without a whit of concern in her tone, as if her mother's panic was more ridiculous than it was relatable. Either she was naive enough to think she had nothing to fear from a creature that had already murdered seven others, or she was a seasoned monster killer herself, and she certainly wasn't that. James would have known her if she was.

"She'll rest easier soon, with any luck." Lupin gestured to James. "Our monster hunters have arrived."

James nodded at Miss Booth, whose coolly appraising eyes swept over his entire person before she smiled politely.

"Is there more than one of you?" she asked him.

He gestured towards the endless rows of dark and shadowy bookshelves in response. "He's looking at books."

"Well, you're both fortunate to have Remus as your guide to Upper Hangleton," she gushed, turning a much warmer, far more genuine smile on Lupin. Perhaps his obvious affections were not entirely unreturned. "He certainly made Mama and I feel very welcome indeed."

"You're a newcomer too?"

"Not so much a newcomer now," said Lupin quickly. "I don't think?"

"Mama and I moved here in March," she explained to James without looking at him, holding Lupin's gaze throughout. "We took that lovely old cottage by the wishing well at the end of Baker's Lane, though it was left in such a state that we've had quite a time fixing it up, but we're feeling quite at home now, and Mama loves the library, of course."

Lupin nodded along to every word she said. His whole body was as rigid as a board. "Does she want another book?"

"She would like another by the same author, if he wrote any?"

"He did, he did." He spared a brief glance at the scramble of papers on his desk and made a hasty attempt to sweep some of them into a neat pile, which must have been a hard job, given that he could hardly take his eyes off the woman in yellow. "I almost—I should have put it aside for you, really, but I didn't expect you for another few days, so I'll just fetch it now."

"Oh, no, I'm sure I can find it!"

Lupin stopped gathering his papers and held up a placatory hand. "No, please, I know precisely where it is, I'll be back in a tick."

"Only if you're sure?"

"I'm certain."

Miss Booth cocked her head to one side, practically preening. "You are such a darling, Remus."

With a couple more nods, some blustery words and an awkward attempt to move away from his chair without catching his foot behind the leg of the desk, or something equally disastrous, Lupin grabbed hold of a lantern and retreated in the same direction that Sirius had gone earlier.

"If you see my brother skulking around," James called after him, "tell him to get his arse back here, would you?"

The custodian waved a hand to indicate that he had heard this instruction, then he turned behind a bookcase and vanished into the dark. This left James alone with Miss Booth, who rocked a little on her heels and hummed Bessy Bell and Mary Gray under her breath, evidently quite at ease, so he picked up his sword and sheathed it. If Lupin couldn't fetch Sirius, James would sniff him out himself. It was high time for them to get going and inspect the murder site, which would potentially confirm if James's current suspicions were true.

"You're very handsome," said Miss Booth all of a sudden.

James stared at her.

She stared back in the same serene, appraising way in which she had first looked at him—not cold, but not particularly warm either—as if he were an antique chalice that needed to be valued. It was an observation, not a flirtation, and James had been told that he was handsome by young women quite a few times in his life, but never with what seemed to be so evident a design to gain absolutely nothing from the interaction.

"Er," he said. "Thank you?"

"Of course, a monster hunter really should be handsome, don't you think?" she pondered aloud, ostensibly to herself, toying with a pendant that hung from a thin silver chain around her slender neck. "There's a certain romance that lends itself to the profession—from the outside looking in, at least. I imagine the reality of the job is quite a lot of pissing in bushes and lurking around in swamps, no?"

If he weren't so used to the various shocks and surprises that the job she was describing entailed, James might have done a double take.

Young ladies—or at least, the young ladies he had met—did not talk to strangers about things like pissing in bushes.

"Rescuing pretty damsels in distress must be the upside to it all, however," she continued without waiting for an answer. "Are you fond of helpless maidens? I imagine there are quite a few of those here in town, should you wish to indulge your desires."

Amusement was rolling into her voice like an oncoming wave, her lips picking up slightly at the corners to form the barest suggestion of a smirk, as though she and he both were in on a joke together. Or as though she took pleasure in making others uncomfortable. James certainly didn't feel at ease with this sudden and familiar line of questioning.

"Not really my type," he muttered.

She barely blinked an eyelash. "Helpless gents, then?"

"I like maidens just fine," he stonily responded. What business was it of hers? Furthermore, why was he answering her questions? "It's the helpless part that doesn't really appeal."

Women who were in need of rescuing from every minor setback (or, as he occasionally encountered, women who pretended to be in need of rescuing) were considered quite a treat amongst many who took up the sword, but they'd never appealed to James because he'd never been given the chance to find them appealing. There had never and would never be a greater, more accomplished monster hunter than his mother, Euphemia, who even in her retirement was famous and revered, and she had trained him in her trade since he was old enough to walk. As a mother, James adored her, as a hunter, he strove for her approval, and as a woman, he admired her far too much to have ever sought out the opposite for himself. There was nothing to despise or disrespect about a girl who did not share his mother's strength and self-reliance, but the ones he'd fancied in his youth were never helpless. His mother was not helpless.

Maitane certainly hadn't been helpless.

Not until the end.

"That's very reassuring," came Miss Booth's enigmatic response, her necklace twinkling in the candlelight as she twisted it back and forth. "And here's Remus! That was quick!"

Her demeanour changed instantly as Lupin jogged back to the desk with a vellum-bound book clasped in his hand, her sly amusement melting away in favour of a warm, almost adoring smile, and with such ease that it set James's instincts to prickling. Something about this woman wasn't quite right, but it wasn't his job to worry over why people acted the way they did, it was his job to dispose of monsters.

Which he needed to hop to, once Sirius reappeared.

"You were so kind to get this for me, thank you," she cooed at the custodian, who pressed the book into her outstretched fingers a little breathlessly, as if he had run to fetch it.

"Not a problem at all. Your brother is choosing some books to borrow," he added for James's benefit as he set his lantern down, "and then he'll be out."

James harrumphed between his teeth. "Trust him to worry about books when we have a mass murdering monster to kill."

"More than one monster now, I suppose," Miss Booth airily remarked.

Both men stared at her.

"Well, didn't you hear?" She clutched the book to her stomach and blinked at Lupin with wide, innocent eyes when he shook his head. "Mr Pettigrew's been insisting that he saw a demon in the forest."

Lupin's brows drew together above the centre of his nose. "Peter's back?"

Miss Booth nodded. "He got back yesterday. Apparently he fancied a stroll to the lake and saw a demon performing some sort of sacrificial ritual on Miss Calvert's remains on his way there, so he ran the whole way back to his house."

"When did you hear this?"

"In the post office, not fifteen minutes ago. He's telling anyone who'll listen."

"I didn't—Peter is a friend, but he's been in York for at least six weeks because his mother was gravely ill," said Lupin to James, looking stricken. "I didn't know her address or I'd have written to warn him. I had no idea that he was coming home so soon."

James narrowed his eyes on Lupin's face. "He's not the type to hear of a beast on the prowl and let his imagination run away with him, is he?"

He could have asked if Lupin's friend was the type who made up lies for attention, because that was what he really wanted to know, but that kind of honest questioning generally didn't go down well with even the most helpful witnesses, particularly where their friends and loved ones were concerned.

A demon, of all things.

There was no demon in Upper Hangleton, just as there was no hellbeast. That didn't mean that Mr Pettigrew had not seen something else, but James was not particularly in the mood to waste his own time if all the man had seen was a nosy villager with an interest in grisly murder scenes.

But Lupin merely shook his head. "Quite the opposite, in fact."

Bugger.

"And he's in the post office now?" asked James, addressing Miss Booth this time.

She shrugged. Not even a trace of her earlier, burgeoning smugness remained in her attractive, olive-skinned face, nor was there so much as a whisper of worry. Apparently, demons and monsters both were no match for this peculiar woman and her teasing sense of humour. "I imagine he's left by now, but he mentioned to the postie that he was heading right home."

Lupin snatched his quill from the inkpot and turned over a sheet of parchment that was covered in notes of some kind. "Peter lives on Kings Road, about a quarter mile east of here," he said, sketching out a crude map of the area, hunching over the desk as his hand flew across the back of the parchment. "If you cross the bridge near the post office and head south, his is the house with the hawthorn tree in the garden."

After a moment or two he straightened up, folded the parchment in half and handed it to James, who took it from him and tucked it into his belt.

"My brother and I will talk to Mr Pettigrew before we examine the kill site, and we'll report back to you as soon as we can," he promised the custodian. "In fact, I should go and find him now, or else we won't see him again before daylight."

Lupin gestured for him to take up the lantern he'd laid down. "Good luck, and thank you for taking on the case."

"My pleasure." He picked up the lantern and nodded his polite farewell at the woman. "Mr Lupin. Miss Booth."

Miss Booth dipped into a neat little curtsey. "James."

He turned away and headed into the dark.

[tired-xyra-urstruly]

Wait, They Don't Love You Like

I Love You

Ft. Rin Itoshi

Synopsis: Rin was made to tutor you much to his demise.

Warnings: I did not proofread this.

Genre: Fluff, Crack

A/N: Christmas gift for my friend 👅 it's low-key ass but it's fine

“Shit.” was the first word that came out of your mouth after processing what was right in front of you. Not only one but TWO grades below 80. But you weren't worried about your grade, you couldn't care less about it. It was your parents that worried you. You looked down at your grade avoiding the principals and your parents' gazes. If only the ground would swallow you whole right now to drown all of their complaints and expectations from you.

Of course it should've been expected as someone who constantly would get into trouble every other day, it's a miracle you haven't been expelled yet. One of the biggest catastrophes you've caused was planting tear gas into a classroom which got you more than a week of suspension.

“Well, Mr. And Mrs. [Last Name], if it would please you, we can assign your child a private tutor from the school.” The principal interrupted your parents' whines and complaints causing them to pause for a moment. You didn't even need to look at them to know that they were more than pleased with the idea. Not wanting to listen to the planning of tutoring you slipped away out of the office unnoticed.

〔❨✧✧❩〕

You sat alone in the classroom watching the door waiting for your supposed tutor to enter. A few minutes passed by until the door finally opened to reveal the next victim of your presence, Rin Itoshi. Well, he wasn't exactly new to your antics.

“Oh my GYATT. Rinnie Rinnn!!” You lit up seeing him and in return his face instantly shifted into one of annoyance once he heard you call him by that stupid nickname. He was so tempted to walk right out of the door and abandon you.

“Don't call me by that cursed name, lukewarm.” he replied coldly sitting across from you.

“Aw but it's so cute and it suits you.”

“Shut up it isn't.”

“Bbbut–” You got cut off.

“No buts. I was called here to tutor you not to play into your games or whatever you're scheming.”

You sighed pouting at him to no avail. He brought out a pen and paper from his own bag and gave you a look expecting you to do the same. Unfortunately, you didn't bring any, so you just looked at him with pleading eyes. He sighed heavily seeing that familiar look in your eyes you would do.

“Bring your own next time.” He gave you a pen and paper.

“On skibidi won't do it again Rin Rin.”

He flinched once he heard his name being butchered into one of your stupid nicknames again.

“I was called here because you're failing math and English.” he started trying to get to the point to get it over with while you were looking everywhere else in the room except at him to avoid actually getting any work done.

“Pish posh my parents are lying they just want me to be tutored to get my grades better.” That was by far the worst excuse he's ever heard in his entire life.

“Shut it Half-baked. I'm here tutoring you when I could be making better use of my time.”

You let out a loud exaggerated sigh out and picked up the pen and looked at him so you could get this over with.

“Yappity yap yap yap yap yap yap” went the academic boy. He didn't actually say that though that's all you heard. You naturally had to look at him since he was the one teaching after all and he'd probably scold you if he saw you distracted.

Your gaze trailed over his features, his jaw, his eyes, anything you could absorb about him.

…

“Do you understand?” Rin snapped you out of your trance dragging you back to reality. Have you been staring too long? Oh shit nothing was written on your paper.

Rin stared at you then your paper obviously Livid knowing you weren't listening and he wasted precious time on a stupid ass like you. You glanced at the clock seeing it's been around thirty minutes of staring and zoning out. In response you could only give a shit eating smirk.

“On gyatt I understand.” You didn't understand a single thing. All Rin could do was pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh in disappointment. “This is why you'll never pass high school.”

The next few minutes you had left that was allotted to this tutoring period passed with you and Rin exchanging banter and him occasionally giving you insults which you would never admit but you felt your heart being stabbed when he said those insults.

Regrettably, the session had to eventually come to an end. Walking home, you sighed, unable to annoy anyone with your presence anymore. Walking home you wondered how Rin was doing… Oh my god why are you thinking of him you bastard. WHY ARE YOU SO CONSCIOUS ABOUT IT?????

〔❨✧✧❩〕

It felt like no time passed at all, you were back in the same classroom waiting for Rin to arrive. You started fidgeting with your pen staring at the door and the clock above it counting the seconds before Rin would walk through.

You jolted up when the doorknob turned over revealing your as always beautiful tutor, Rin. He glanced at you and then the materials played out on your desk a little bit relieved to see you kept your promise of bringing your own materials.

“Heyyy Rinnie Rin!!” The feeling of relief was short lived and then replaced with the feeling of irritation again.

He ignores your stupid greeting and sits down across from you which receives a frown. “Are you really going to ignore my glorious greeting I bothered to say.” You asked him which in return made him flinch once again. He didn't like your cocky replies a bit.

“I won't if you stop using those shitty names, lukewarm.”

“You're no fun at all.”

He then proceeded to start the lecture again by tutoring you, this time you actually took notes. They were low effort but hey you did take notes. Occasionally you would get distracted… but Rin was way too determined to get this over with to allow you to zone out for too long.

Again, the session had to unfortunately end. The process repeated for a while now, the only difference was you were slowly worsening. Why? Well…

“You're too pretty.” Rin was dumbfounded for a moment, you saw it for a split second. He simply asked you why you weren't improving nor making an effort to.

“Even so, it's not an excuse.”

“But it's the truth.” Yeah gng you were just nonchalant like that. “Speaking of which, are you free anytime soon?”

“No.” You once again pouted.

“But you have no games coming up.”

“I use my time to get better.”

“Can you skip one training session for me pleaseeee.”

Rin let out an irritated sigh before responding, “Just one if it will make you stop nagging me.”

Your jaw dropped to the floor. You did NOT expect him to give up this easily, especially when you made him give up one of his training sessions which is something he treated like his fucking lifeline. Honestly, Rin didn't expect this either, he couldn't think straight when he was placed in the same room as you. Maybe your stupidness was contagious.

You felt like your heart would just crawl out of your mouth with it still being open from shock. When you finally regained your composure you still couldn't muster up to say anything.

“Sooooo it's a date then!!” You voiced, filling in the awkward silence.

“Wait what.” What the fuck did he just agree to? Next thing he knew, you weren't across him anymore but latching onto him like a parasite.

“Love you Rinnie Rin.” He wouldn't say it back. You looked up at him and you could see a pale pink rise In his cheeks, it served as a good enough answer to you.

End.

Tags: @tofumiarchives @yui2aku

[pleasantphantomhologram]

"Please, don't stay sad for too long, okay? I'll be here waiting for you, supporting you through everything. I love you, always"

Title: longing (Part 2) (Previous chapter)

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Reader

Warning: Modern Setting, Fertility problem, Angst, Hurt. 

Summary: After the surgery, you can't help but felt sorry for yourself. how can a woman cant give her husband a kids? But, your husband, Acacius is there hugging you and saying that everything will be alright.

A/N: Hello! it's me again, and happy christmas everyone, here's a gift for me from this holiday. I think i will write so much on this holiday, coz i dont know when will i get my day off again after this holiday, LOL! Enjoy!

After the surgery, the intense pain and aching you'd been feeling all this time vanished, along with your hopes of having a child. That day, you and Acacius had just arrived home after three days in the hospital. The doctor had said you needed another checkup in a week to examine the stitches on your lower abdomen.

Your home with Acacius wasn't big or small, just the right size for a newlywed couple like you. There was a master bedroom and a spare room that you had planned as a nursery for your future child. You hadn't done anything to it yet, but whenever you had free time together, you'd talk about the room. Acacius would always joke about painting it pink if you had a girl.

You opened the door to the room slowly and looked sadly at each corner of the room, which still only contained an unmade bed. You sat on the edge of the bed and ran your hand over the mattress.

A single tear rolled down your cheek, followed by a small sob. No matter how hard you tried to be strong and accept reality, the fact that you couldn't give your husband a child made you feel useless and worthless. What kind of wife couldn't give her husband a child? What was the point of being a woman if you couldn't have children?

You started blaming yourself for everything. You should have taken better care of your health in college; you should have been more careful about what you ate. It was all your fault. Your tears flowed faster, as if something were piercing your heart every time you thought about it. Without realizing it, Marcus came into the room and hugged you tightly.

'It's alright, it's alright. Take a deep breath, babe,' he said. 'I... I... I'm sorry,' you sobbed. 'There's nothing to be sorry for, Y/N. I love you. And that's the only thing that matters,' Acacius said. 'It's okay to be sad now, I know you're feeling so depressed. But I'm here, I'll always be here.'

'I'm so sorry, you married a woman who can't give you a child. You deserve so much better than me.' Hearing Y/N's words, Acacius' heart ached. She shouldn't say that. From the beginning, he had chosen to be with her, not because of that, but because he loved her. He couldn't imagine his life without her.

'No, don't you dare say that again. You're the one I chose, not because of that, but because it's you, Y/N. I can't live without you. I love every day with you, I love every laugh, every smile. Even when you're upset or angry, I accept all of you. All I want is for us to be happy together, in this house, maybe with a cat or two. I know you love those furry little creatures, and maybe we'll adopt a couple later. Please, don't stay sad for too long, okay? I'll be here waiting for you, supporting you through everything. I love you, always.'

Hearing Acacius' words, Y/N could only hug her husband tightly. She was so lucky to have him.

'I love you too,' she whispered. Acacius smiled and wiped away her tears.

'So, what name do you want to give the cats?' Acacius asked, trying to lighten the mood while still smiling at his wife.

Finally, slowly, the tears turned into a small smile. They might not know what the future held, but one thing was certain: everything would be okay as long as they were together.

[yuomizuu]

♡ | holiday, peppermint candy ── childe x reader !

synopsis: it’s the most wonderful time of the year in which everything is merry and bright! well.. it would be, if you weren’t so cramped with schoolwork. but as the saying goes, there’s always room for a christmas miracle to find its way in, even if temporary.

additional: w.c 1.6k ⸝⸝⸝ ( content includes: modern au, uni au established rs, gn reader, holiday fluff, mini smau snippet at the end )

(🧣 ) yuomi’s note: plays the trumpet poorly – introducing my holiday piece of the @stellaronhvnters secret santa event! this gift is specially written for and in dedication of @mitsvriii !! i hope you enjoy this piece ohka ^w^ ahshwaj i lowk struggled for a bit trying to grasp childe’s character since i haven’t ever written for him before so im hoping i got his characterization right for the most part😭im wishing you a very happy and wonderful merry christmas and a happy new year as well! may the coming year treat you kindly in your future endeavors <3

once more, it appears as though that particular time of the year is starting to steadily approach. where a light snowfall pleasantly greets you on a slow morning and you bask in the tranquil silence of the world outside through frosted window-panes whilst the city transforms itself into a snowglobe of winter wonderland.

for some individuals, they cannot help but dread this time of year. the idea of having the once long days now cut short, shoveling heaps of snow off their cars or driveways, and wearing layers upon layers of clothes just to keep warm was anything but agreeable. of course, you understood such sentiments; it wasn’t like you haven’t had your fair share of difficult winters before such as that one time you ( unfortunately ) ended up waiting an hour for the bus outside in the freezing cold, only for it to never show up. your entire body had felt completely numb, you almost couldn’t even bring yourself to walk back to your apartment thinking that it was probably a better fate to just freeze to death. needless to say, you ended up skipping out on all your classes for that day — something that your boyfriend, ajax, found to be far too exciting than it should have been.

because while you remained moping and complaining to him on the phone about having to miss out on your classes and therefore, unable to take notes which will undoubtedly cause you to fall behind in the semester, he appeared to have other things planned up his soft winter sweater sleeves.

“—and the worst part about it is that the professor doesn’t even upload the lecture slides online! how does he expect us to have our notes written down when we can’t even have access to the damn thing?”

the frustration in your tone is evident and ajax does his best to respond with understanding of the situation, something you appreciate him for in that moment because archon knows you’d be long spiraling into a panic by now without his voice of reason. “i’m sorry to hear that babe, is there no one from your class that you can ask to send you the notes?”

heaving out a sigh, you sink further back into your bed with a frown, running a hand over your face. “no… lynette is usually able to help me with that but she went away on some holiday vacation with her family last week. i have no idea how she isn’t stressing out about this like i am.”

”hmm, what about emailing your professor for the lecture notes?”

for the next short while, you and ajax went back and forth on discussing different solutions to your dilemma with the former occasionally voicing a ridiculous suggestion like raiding him in snowballs or sending him an overbaked, unsavory fruitcake for the holidays. admittedly, they coaxed a chuckle or two out of you, briefly distracting you from the overtaking stress until you need to quickly redirect the conversation back to that matter at hand.

as the two of you continued to discuss however, you couldn’t help but notice the odd sniffle or two that would sound on the other line

”ajax, are you coming down with a cold?” you asked, an undertone of concern in your voice that elicited a soft chuckle to ring in your ear.

”no, no, i’m alright babe. i was just outside for a bit taking out the trash. it was supposed to be scara’s turn but you know how he is with this kind of weather.”

an unknowing sigh of relief slips past. “okay good — make sure you’re bundling up properly before going out, and warm yourself up right away once you get back inside. you’ll catch a nasty cold if you don’t.”

”i will, i will..” you could almost hear a slight hint of a smile in his voice as he answered. even when you were in the middle of dealing with an academic crisis, you still went out of your way to make sure that he was doing okay. “buut… i want you to warm me up instead.” 

“huh? me?” you question, pointing to yourself as though he could see you in the first place. “i mean unless there’s a way for me to do that through a phone call, i don’t think i can even—eh? ajax?”

the call abruptly ends with the other end hanging up and you pull your phone away from your ear, blankly staring at ajax’s intact page in confusion. strange… did he lose signal? a power outage maybe? or maybe his wifi’s finally kicked the curb.

just before you could press the call button again to see if you could still call him, the sound of knocking on your door grabs your attention. with a small groan, you climb out of bed and make your way over, unsure of who awaits on the other side. honestly, who would even be out and about in such cold weather in the first place? and yet to your surprise, the moment you open the door you’re suddenly enveloped in a chilling embrace.

“ack! ajax?” well that was certainly unexpected.

burying his face into your neck, the man lets out a small, content sigh, his warm breath fanning against your skin which is a complete contrast to the coldness nipping at his nose — or his entire body for that matter.

a shiver runs down your spine. ”ajax! you’re freezing!” you complain, attempting to squirm out of his grasp that only results in him tightening his arms around you even more.

”that’s why i’m hugging you, so you can warm me up,” he mutters, voice muffled against your neck and you can't help but almost deadpan in response.

“that’s such a cheesy thing to say..” 

“maybe, but you love it either way!” he remarks, pulling back with a smile that you always resembled to a golden retriever ( demeanor wise ). he then feigns a look of thought. “or would you prefer if i did this instead?”

before you can even take a moment to wonder what he means, he’s already reaching out and cupping your face with his ice cold hands, the feeling of which has you yelping in protest once again. “babe, no! stop treating me like your personal heat warmer!”

yet no matter how many times you attempt to pull your head away from his hold, he doesn't seem to budge in the slightest, simply staring at you in amusement. eventually though, he relents from torturing you any further with his teasing antics, giving a light pinch to your cheeks until he leans in and captures your lips in a brief, chaste kiss that manages to make your face grow flush, almost to the point where you can’t tell if it’s his hands that had warmed up already or your face is just too hot to even realize.

“now that i’m all nice and warm, we can start having our indoor christmas date!” ajax says, welcoming himself further into your home without explaining himself any further.

“wait… what? ‘indoor christmas date?’” you repeat, still a bit dumbfounded from the kiss shared a moment ago. closing the door behind, you walk over to the kitchen counter where ajax as already set down his backpack, watching him pull out the various things carried inside one by one.

“well, since you won’t be able to attend your classes today, i figured it was the perfect opportunity for us to spend the day together instead. look! i brought packets of hot chocolate we can make, your favorite christmas movies–along with some of my own–and i even found these cool little gingerbread house building kits in my dorm!”

you have to admit, a part of you can’t help but become intrigued at all the items and activities placed before you. college so far has been nothing short of stress and fatigue on your already weary self, taking up so much of your time throughout the past month or so. because of that, you’ve barely gotten the chance to even enjoy the festivities of the holidays this year, too preoccupied with meeting deadlines and wrapping up group projects. now that you’re presented with the opportunity to indulge in the holiday spirit and best of all, with your boyfriend, you’re almost tempted to give in. but…

“ajax, this is all really sweet but.. i really can’t spend the day doing all this, i’ll still need to catch up with my classes online and do the work there–”

“c’mon babe, please? just for a little while and then i promise i’ll help you figure something out with your classes.” 

archons.. there he goes giving you that look again, the one he knows you can’t resist no matter how much you attempt to deny it. you let out a sigh of resignation. “.. okay fine. but only for a little while and that’s it.”

that supposed plan of yours ended up going down the drain real quick.

although the situation with your professor ( or the rest of your classes for the day ) was far from over, you would inevitably find yourself forgetting about that situation entirely throughout the rest of the day. your build up of stress would be released via warm cuddles beneath soft heated blankets and equally warm cups of hot chocolate as you and ajax would have a marathon of some of your favorite christmas movies. but that was of course after you two spent a good while making your gingerbread houses together. at first it started out as a cute little activity with the goal of just getting the pieces to remain standing for longer than two seconds but after about ten minutes or so into the session, that was when you noticed ajax began to get a little too invested into his gingerbread house. for  now though, you’ll simply ignore the way he went full on architect mode on his building–sooner or later all his hard work will be reduced to nothing but mere crumbs and leftover pieces of candy, but you won’t tell him that.

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

divider credits: @/issysh3ll

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

12 Days of Christmas: 2024 Christmas Event

Day 1: Secret Santa

Pairing: The Chain & Reader

Warning(s): N/A

Notes: Staring off strong with some secret Santa shenanigans. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Next Day

In hindsight, introducing the idea of 'Secret Santa' while stuck in an alternate dimension with eight men might not have been the best choice on your very modern, very medievally-challenged part, because you were quite sure you hadn't been given a moment's peace since explaining the concept to the little assholes a day ago.

"Wild, buddy, my ride-or-die, I said no," you groaned as Wild's puppy eyes ratcheted up a level, practically glimmering in his skull. The Champion was unusually persistent in his quest to discover which of them would be the (lucky) recipient of whatever gift you could manage to scrounge up in this hellhole of a dimension. Not that the others hadn't tried; even you weren't daft enough to notice several of the little-er bastards sticking their grubby fingers into your stuff while the older bastards distracted you with similar mischief. You already accepted that complete privacy was a hard-pressed luxury in Hyrule, but this was getting ridiculous, even more so that Time, Twilight, Wars, and Sky–the responsible ones, you called them–were nowhere to be found.

"Just a hint?" Wild's eyes widened, and you could have sworn his pupils had all but swallowed the brilliant blue of his irises. It would have been adorable, but your patience was growing dangerously thin. The Cook leaned in close; like that would entice you to reconsider. "I won't tell."

"Uh huh," your arms crossed over your chest, and you scooted so far back that you nearly fell from the log you were sitting on. Damn him, and damn Hyrule and Legend, who had been watching the exchange with open intrigue.

"C'mon, I won't say a word," the Champion cajoled. He was basically on top of you, and you were torn between stomping to find Time, who wouldn't dare be this annoying, or surrendering to the laughter threatening to bubble from your chest. "Cross my heart-–

"Nope," you interrupted quickly when Wind's ears gremlin ears perked up from across the camp. He was too young, too beautiful, to be praying for death. Attempting to steer the conversation back to saner waters, you raised a brow. "For someone who's never played, you don't seem concerned with what to get your Secret Santa. Feeling lucky, Champ?"

"Absolutely," he said with the smoothness of Nutella over bread. Fuck, you wished Hyrule had that. The sun beat down over the camp, and you absentmindedly tugged on the collar of your tunic. "Plus, the bet–"

"Wild!" Hyrule hissed, ears pinking, and you nearly choked at the admission, horror lacing your expression.

"Wait, you're all betting on my Secret Santa?"

"Duh!" Wind joined the conversation with his usual amount of teenage sass, sauntering over to plop next to you on the log, a hair's breadth away from swinging those tangerine-covered legs over your lap. "I'm a pirate!"

"You're a child," you replied without missing a beat, sticking your tongue out at the young sailor. "And I'll be having a word with Time about letting you make bets."

Wind rolled his eyes, obviously recalling the time you'd caught him attempting to make off with one of Wild's bomb arrows after Legend dangled the promise of a two-week free trial with the fire rod upon completion. "Please, that was one time."

"Wind, I'm going to hold your hand when I tell you this–"

The sailor's resulting grimace was the stuff of legend. "Ew, cooties–"

"–but back in my age, you have to be eighteen to make bets with money," you paused to register his statement, brows furrowing. Cooties, really? In a world where Herpes existed? "Child, you're literally proving my point."

"Now sailor, ya know tha's dangerous," Twilight materialized behind you to comment, expression the picture of amusement, while you let yours reflect how unimpressed you were.

"Hey, Twi. How much did you toss in? Five rupees? Ten?" You raised a brow. "Twenty?"

A snort left the Rancher's mouth. He leaned down, meeting your gaze with the best shit-eating grin you'd seen outside of Wild. "Ya know 'm not a betting kind, darl'."

"Bullshit," you hissed, pushing his face away with your palm. "Thirty? Forty? You're flattering me here."

Twilight rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest, though he didn't look the least bit nonplussed. "Ya think 'm made of rupees, darlin'?"

"Absolutely not, you're just as broke as the rest of us," you chuckled, flicking your finger in his direction. The others joined in, and you caught Wind's body when he dissolved into giggles, collapsing against your shoulder, using your free hand to ruffle sandy-blonde locks. "Woah, man overboard!"

The camp laughed once more, and no more was said of anyone's Secret Santa. Until the next morning.

The sun was on the rise when you woke, stretching your arms and settling more solidly against the plush fabric of your bedroll, squished between Wind and Sky's respective sleeping positions. The Chosen Hero had an arm tossed haphazardly over your stomach, while the Sailor had somehow managed to meld himself to your shoulder, like you were the meat to the metaphorical sandwich. It was a comforting weight, and you would have stayed had your bladder not chosen that exact moment to express its displeasure with an urgent cramp. 

Grumbling to yourself, you extracted yourself from the pile, ignoring Sky's sleepy mumble when his arm flopped against your bedroll, though Wind quickly became his next target and you trudged away knowing everything was once more right in the world, silently slinking past the snoozing forms of Time and Twilight to the forest. 

A thin breeze swept through the trees as you weaved between them, rustling the thick, sun-dappled canopy. Once satisfied that you wouldn't be walked in on by an overactive hero with your pants down, you did your business and returned to camp, sighing at the relieved pressure in your abdomen. 

Now, let it never be said that you enjoyed being a tease, but watching the chain scramble to discover just what you were planning for 'secret santa' was more than entertaining; from the moment you dropped the small slips of paper in Legend's shed hat to be drawn to the last time you had caught Wild and Four peering into your traveling pack. Even Time and Warriors, who were arguably the most mature of the bunch, were only slightly more discrete in discovering just what you had planned for the recipient of your gift, though you suspected it was partly because Time had years of experience in this sort of fuckery and Warriors' time as a captain had taught him to be especially thorough when conducting searches. 

Still, there was no hidden joy in their faces when Wild would pester you about the subject, so you knew they hadn't discovered it yet. You also knew that they weren't curious enough to search your clothes pockets, where the thin slip of paper proclaiming your charge lay. 

As expected, the camp was mostly deserted by the time you managed to saunter your half-awake ass back into it. Four, Hyrule, and Legend lay in a heap of limbs that had you wincing, while Wind was playing the dutiful teddybear for Sky's more cuddly provocalities. Time and Warriors had found each other in Twilight's absence, the Rancher having left their company in favor of rolling up his bedroll, ears perking up when you approached. 

"Hey, darl'," the hero greeted, tightening the straps containing the bedroll in a tight coil. "Sleep well?"

"You bet," you answered, plopping down beside him. You sat cross-legged, elbows perched on upwards curve of your thighs. "And you?"

"'S well as any other night," the Rancher answered, running a hand through his sleep-tosseled hair. You debated grabbing your comb to help him out, but ultimately held back; best not to steal Warriors' only pleasure in life. "What's got ya up so early? Ah know we're doin' that secret... remind me th' name 'o that 'gain?"

"Santa," you corrected. 

"Tha's the one! Anyways, ah know we're doin' tha' thing tah-day, but ya don't gotta wake up early, 'e'll love whatever ya get 'em."

You grinned at his attempt to reassure you, using one of your hands to lay a gentle clap on the blade of his shoulder. "I appreciate it, Twi, but that's not why I'm up."

"Oh?" 

"Actually, I was wondering if you've seen Wolfie lately?" you asked, purposefully keeping the question vague. If there was anyone who knew where the elusive wolf was, it was his unofficial bestie, Twilight. 

"Wolfie, eh?" the Rancher hummed, putting a finger to his chin. "'M sure I could track 'im down for ya. May ah ask why?"

You shrugged. "I just miss him. Plus, you wouldn't want him to miss his first Secret Santa, right?"

Abruptly, Twilight sat up a bit straighter, as if caught off guard. His ears twitched. "Hol' up. Yer including 'im in this?"

"Um, yes?" You leveled the Rancher with a puzzled look. However you looked at it, Wolfie was an integral part of the team, and deserved to be treated as such, which is why you felt no shame in adding a slip of paper with his name on it into the hat when no one was looking. The furry sweetheart was already known for bringing back things, so whoever drew his name wouldn't be missing out. "He's one of us, Twi. It wouldn't be fair to not include him."

"Not include who?" A new voice cut in, and you shot a lazy wave to Warriors, who was in the process of worming his way from the cocoon that was his bedroll. "Please tell me we're talking about Legend, no one'll tell me who got him."

"First of all, rude, and second of all, no," you stuck your tongue out at the Captain, who had managed to maneuver himself next to you and Twilight, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "I was asking Twi about Wolfie, it's been a bit since we've seen him."

"Hm," said Warriors, looking marginally less invested at the realization that you weren't discussing his mortal enemy in sass and sarcasm alike. He ran a hand through his hair and you were instantly jealous of how easily his fingers slipped through the almost golden strands. "Now that I think about it... have you tried the forest?"

"A bit," you admitted, glancing around the surrounding area. It was empty, but you still looked. "He usually comes to us, but with all the portal-hopping we've been doing..."

"Ain't no reason ta worry," Twilight clapped your shoulder as he stood, rolling his shoulders. "He looked back and shot you a dazzling smile. "Ah'll find 'im, dont'cha worry."

With that, he disappeared into the thick forest.

It was time.

You arranged for everyone to sit in a circle, noting that they all seemed to be clutching some sort of item. You were no exception, cradling a thin bundle of fabric to your chest; you hadn't quite known what to get your Secret Santa, but you hoped it would be well-received regardless.

"Is everyone ready?" Time asked, though the look he threw you suggested that he was only taking charge to quell the excited jittering before the heroes descended upon one another in a frenzy.

There was a chorus of agreement, and you sat taller. Twilight had returned a bit ago, claiming that Wolfie was 'nowhere to be found', and while you were skeptical–and frankly a bit worried–you let it go, ushering him to sit with a large smile. Even so, you couldn't keep them waiting, which is why you cleared your throat. "Perfect! You may begin."

There was a clatter as Wild practically launched himself at Wind, proudly displaying what could only be a smaller version of Twilight's hookshot. The craftsmanship was clear, and your heart melted when the Sailor's mouth dropped, eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

"This is awesome!" exclaimed the youngest hero, running a hand over the gleaming surface. "I've never– thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You're welcome," Wild scratched the back of his neck, obviously pleased. "I'm glad you like it."

The Champion's gift-giving was quickly followed by Four, who presented Hyrule with a new sword that shone brighter than water, the hilt decorated with small green gemstones; then Time, who commissioned a new pair of boots for Warriors. Legend was next, handing Wind

The Champion's gift-giving was quickly followed by Four, who presented Hyrule with a new sword that shone brighter than water, the hilt decorated with small green gemstones; then Time, who commissioned a new pair of boots for Warriors. Legend was next, producing a large sack full of metallic fragments that gleamed in the pale light and handing it to the resident smith, who looked a bit teary-eyed at the offering, and Warriors took no prisoners in gifting Twilight a loop of metal-reinforced rope, already tied in a short lasso at the end. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and Wind was behind you, holding something behind his back. 

"This is for you!" The sailor proclaimed, practically shaking with excitement as he shoved a mass of blue-green fabric into your arms. "I wasn't sure what to get you at first, but I saw this in Time's Hyrule and it looked perfect!"

You grinned at the admission, unraveling the fabric to reveal a stunning cape. It was long and smooth, with the Hylian Crest emblazed on the back in brilliant white stitching. "Wind, I love it," you pulled the Sailor into a hug, mindful of the wrapped bundle still held against your chest. "It's everything I've ever wanted."

Wind's eyes bugged out, and you could practically see the stars glimmering in his sea-swept irises. "Really?!"

"Of course," you giggled, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of his head. You shook the fabric out, then wrapped it around your shoulders, marveling at the way it fluttered around your ankles, lighter than silk. "Thank you, Sailor."

Wind's cheeks pinked, and he sputtered something but accepted your affections with a beaming smile. Until he perked up, noticing the bundle of fabric in your arms. "Wait, you haven't given your gift yet?"

You shook your head, feeling a bit sad despite the blatant cheer going around--Sky definitely deserved those new strings for his harp and Time was completely valid for grinning upon receiving new gauntlets from Twilight. "Ah, yeah-- It is."

"Then give it!"

A chuckle escaped you at Wind's insistence. You patted the Sailor's head. "I wish, buddy. He's not here yet."

Wind's brows furrowed as he scanned the group, expression becoming quizzical when he found that everyone was present. "But we're all here?"

"Not necessarily," you huffed, just as the others seemed to take note of the gift still in your arms.

Wild was the first to speak, brushing his bangs from his face with one hand while the other held the carved ladle set Sky had gifted him. "Wait, is that your gift? Who's it for?"

You scratched the back of your neck, knowing that the wait was up. "Uh... It's for Wolfie, but he's not here," you cast a cursory glance across the camp in case the furry baby was lurking somewhere among the bedrolls, but he was nowhere to be seen. "so I'm just hanging on to it until he shows up."

Silence, then Legend grumbled, pulling a sack of rupees from his pocket and chucking them at Twilight with a glare that could have killed a weaker man. "You fucking cheat, Rancher."

Right. They had made bets on this.

"Seriously, guys?" You asked incredulously as Wild and Hyrule forked over their own sacks to the Rancher, who looked curiously shocked. Didn't he say he hadn't participated? "Oh my H– how did you know!?"

"Ah didn't," responded Twilight, holding his spoils with a bewildered expression. Silently, Sky added a sack to the growing pile in the Rancher's arms. Time looked distinctly disappointed, but that could have just been his face. "Ah was jus' jokin'–"

"Joking or not, you fooled us," Legend huffed like the sore loser he was. "Man, I was sure it was Warriors."

"Me? Why?" The Captain raised a brow, his query flanked by your very baffled: "Him? Why?"

The Veteran scoffed, and you knew this was about to get good. Until he opened his mouth and you were instantly reminded of how much of a little shit Legend was. "Because you've been sneaking around him like a rat. I thought it was obvious."

You blinked. "A rat?!"

"OKay," Warriors interrupted before things could get ugly. "I'm sure there's some way we can get it to him. Speaking of," he glanced at your face, then the bundle, then back to your face. "What did you get Wolfie?"

Grinning, you unveiled the gift, revealing a long, thick bone. It was approximately the length of your forearm; lightly browned from the gentle steaming it had received a few days prior to enhance flavor.

"Woah," breathed Wild in reverence, and you were glad at least someone recognized the effort. Tracking down the best butcher in Hyrule while simultaneously being tailed by at least two heroes at any given moment was no easy feat, but you had done it, and, by god, were you proud. "I'm almost jealous."

"Well, now ah know 'e'll love it," Twilight said, looking equally impressed. "If ya give it ta me, I'll make sure 'e gets it, darl'."

"Are you sure? I can hang on to it–"

But the Rancher was already taking the bone from your grasp, and, really, was it the worst thing when, the very next morning, a very satisfied Wolfie rolled into camp, practically dropping into your lap like a fly, with your gift in his jaws?

I might rewrite this idea into another one of my fics, but enjoy this (very late) standalone for now! I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas (if you celebrate)!!

[talesfromawannabewriter]

The Queen of Hell

A Christmas gift for @koji-haru and @twost3ps based on each other swap au.

Charlie was beaming with excitement as she waited for the Queen. After months of persuasion from the council and a bit of beseeching to her parents the little angel was finally able to get a meeting with the Queen of Hell herself. When Charlie had first learned about the overpopulation in Hell she didn’t think much of it. Only that it was a shame so many human souls chose a life of debauchery instead of purity. Then she heard about the solution to the problem, exterminations.

 Once a year an army roams about Hell killing all and any sinner. But what really made Charlie recoil in disgust was that according to her parents it’s the royal family conducting them personally. At first she couldn’t help but think they were monsters doing that to their own subjects. Wasn’t it their job to protect and care for them? She always heard her father talk about how when he got back from a meeting with them how not only their subjects were thriving but so were their subjects. 

According to him, there were few who weren’t happy in their kingdom. Even the lower class could gain jobs that paid well if they worked hard.So it was then that Charlie came up with a new theory. They simply didn’t have enough resources to take care of them! They were demons after all, in their minds they were probably putting them down like a sick dog. 

Thinking it was for the best. But soon they’d have a new solution, one that benefits everyone. Now Charlie sat there waiting patiently for the Queen to arrive and for this meeting to start. She didn’t have to wait much longer, the doors flew open as the Queen herself entered. 

She was tall with gold and black horns adding to her height. She was at least seven feet tall. She noticed the tiara nestled in her hair between the sharp horns. Its rubies glistened in the light. She was wearing a purple gown that reminded her of fashion from the Victorian era. 

Only this gown exposed a good portion of her more than generous cleavage. Which were snugged in by what Charlie imagined was her corset underneath. In fact she could see clearly that this woman was well endowed everywhere. Not just curvaceously but beautifully as well. She reminded Charlie of a sculpture made that stood in one of Heaven’s many gardens. 

However what grabbed the young girl’s attention the most were her eyes. They were golden, like angels. Yet they shone with no holy light in them. They were something else as they landed their sharp gaze on Charlie. She gulped and prepared to make her way over to where she and her companions were to introduce herself. That’s when she heard a deep voice echo through the room.

Adam: Charlotte Morningstar I assume? The daughter of the head seraphim?

Charlie felt her brain stop as a very male voice escaped the lips from the Queen. She blinked, unsure if that just happened. 

Adam: Well, are you?

Nope it definitely happened. The Queen of Hell had a…they were…she’s a…

Charlie: You're a man.

She stated dumbly. After a few seconds did Charlie’s brain catch on to what she just said.

Charlie: I mean of course you're a man! Why wouldn’t I know if you were a man? Because that’s what you, the Queen of Hell are! A guy! Hahaha!

The Queen merely gave her an unimpressed stare and sat down. 

Adam: Hmm, well you certainly are Lucifer’s child no doubt about that. Now are we going to get this meeting underway or not? I have a very busy schedule. 

Charlie blushed in embarrassment and cleared her throat. 

Charlie: Right, sorry. Your highness I have come here today there is a lot I want to get through and not too much time so let’s begin. I heard about your biggest problem and I’ve come with a solution!

Adam: Problem? What problem are you speaking of? We have no problem. Because any problem that we have we execute promptly. Such as the same for Heaven I imagine. 

It was then Charlie noticed that he somehow conjured a plate full of large, pork sausages. On the she side was a pear chopped in half that appeared to be baked. To finish this meal was a goblet that was filled to the brim of what Charlie assumed when she saw the dark liquid wasn’t juice. 

Adam: I hope you don’t mind what I eat. It’s been such a hectic morning that I didn’t have the opportunity for even breakfast. 

He didn’t give her a chance to respond before placing a cut up piece of meat in his mouth. 

Charlie: Uh no! Nope! Not at all, please feast away.

Adam: Thank you.

He said before nodding for her to continue. 

Charlie: Right! As I was saying, I have a solution to your problem, the overpopulation of Hell.

Adam: That’s not a problem for us actually we have that covered. This last extermination my daughter Aclima managed to kill over half of the sinner population. Isn’t that wonderful? I’m so proud of her.

Charlie: What? No! How is that a good thing!? Those souls you killed were human souls! You do realize that?

Adam looked considerate for a moment before going back to his usual self.

Adam: Well I apologize that you're a bleeding heart who has a weak stomach for violence but I fail to see why you care so much?

Charlie: Because those souls…they are just the same as the ones we have up there. Sure they are far from perfect but…

Adam: But nothing. Listen here and listen well, the human souls we have are nothing like the ones Heaven has. These souls that Hell houses belong down here. They have earned their place among the fire and brimstone. In fact if it wasn’t for us the sinners would be causing havoc. Maybe even trying to rule Heaven or worse me and my husband. 

 The king. The other ruler of Hell. The devil. The traitor. The one whose chaos spread all throughout the Earth. 

Even to this day. The being who scared Charlie when her mother would recount tales about him since creation. In fact there were barely any up there who wasn’t absolutely petrified by the mere thought of him. She pushed back those thoughts as she tried to make a counterattack.

Charlie: But these souls(makes sound then sighs) are your subjects. I thought you cared about them? 

Adam: Correction, they are not subjects. They are our prisoners. The ones born down here are our subjects. Our true people. 

Charlie: But, but, but…This is wrong! The exterminations are wrong! 

Something shifted in the Queen of Hell. He stood from his chair and slowly made his way down to the other end of the table. Where Charlie was. Dread filled the young seraphim as the queen suddenly stood in front of her glaring a hole into her.

Adam: Life isn’t fair, little one. But what would an angel, let alone the daughter of the head seraphim, know about what’s fair? 

Charlie: Please just listen! I know of another way! One where you no longer have to dirty your hands with blood! I can help redeem them! I can set up shop down here, somewhere and you can send the sinners to me and I’ll cleanse all their souls. Both overpopulation and the exterminations will be dissolved. You can even say it’ll be a happy day in-

Adam: I’m going to stop you right there and save us both precious time. I want you to get this through your thick skull. Not one of those sinners out there are capable of crossing your pearly gates. All those sinners had their chances to be better and now they must boil in my pot. By Heaven's decree the rules are black and white, so there is no use in trying to fight it. We will make them burn for their lives until we kill them again. 

He was practically growling out each syllable as his eyes glowed with fury. By the time he finished Charlie was a shaking mess, trying her best not to cry. Satisfied, the Queen stepped back, his eyes back to normal molten color and went back to his seat where he finished the remainder of his meal. All while Charlie sat there completely petrified. Once down he cleaned his face with a napkin and turned his gaze back on Charlie. 

Causing her to flinch. His lips tugged slightly upwards.

Adam: Now then, if that is all you came here for then I only have one thing left to say. Tell your father I, Adam, send my regards. 

Before Charlie could say anything the Queen, Adam, dissipated in a flash of smoke. Leaving behind his now empty plates. Charlie sat there stumped for a few minutes as she wondered where she heard that name before.

Charlie internally : Adam, Adam, Adam, Ad…wait. Adam as in the first man Adam? The first to sin Adam? That would mean….Oh that explains so much. 

Of course the Queen of the sinners would be the one to first initiate sin. By biting into the forbidden fruit after being offered by the snake. There wasn’t much told about Adam after that. Only that he and Eve were kicked out of the garden. Eve was given a new, more faithful husband and Adam was left to slowly crumble from the outside forces of the unfinished Earth. 

At least according to the history of creation told by Heaven, and her parents themselves. She guessed after he died he was sent to Hell. It all made sense now the reason he absolutely loathes all sinners is because he was the very first sinner. He must hate what he unintentionally created. Her big heart couldn’t help but squeeze at the thought. 

If she could show him that sinners weren’t completely hopeless then maybe she could reach him. Straight to…whatever demons have for hearts. 

Yes she will succeed. She will redeem a sinner before the next extermination and she will bring peace between the two realms. 

If only the angel knew of the long path of betrayal, truth, and heartbreak she would face when she started her journey. 

[illaisland]

Hi @catharsisxf ! Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, pal (affectionate)! I am not much of a writer (or a visual artist tbh), but I tried to make a few things I thought you'd like based on your secret santa survey answers. My apologies for not being very consistent with the daily well wishes, but I hope these past few weeks have been easier/lighter for you. <3 Gifts for you are under the break...

Gift one:

I made a series of images based on a line from a scene you liked in "The Unnatural" where Mulder is encouraging Scully to forget about her worries and focus on hitting the ball/having fun/enjoying life. I found a manip where they are kissing in that scene and modified it further.

With the quote:

Without any text:

And i also made a terrible picmix version for giggles. The watermark covered the quote cuz I didn't how picmix works. 😅🙃

Gift 2:

I also made you a video based on a Jeff Buckley song, however, Kapwing decided to cockblock me and wouldn't let me download what I created for you. So I had to screen record it. Which means the audio is *TERRIBLE* and the already iffy resolution quality is also not good. So, I apologize again for such a macaroni fridge art ass gift, but I tried, friend. 😬 😓 The video I made:

The song and lyrics that inspired it:

Lover, You Should've Come Over

Jeff Buckley

Looking out the door I see the rain Fall upon the funeral mourners Parading in a wake of sad relations As their shoes fill up with water

Maybe I'm too young To keep good love from going wrong But tonight you're on my mind So... you'll never know

Broken down and hungry for your love With no way to feed it Where are you tonight? Child, ya know how much I need it

Too young to hold on And too old to just break free and run

Sometimes a man gets carried away When he feels like should be having his fun Much too blind to see the damage he's done Sometimes a man must awake to find that Really he has no one

So I'll wait for you, love And I'll burn Will I ever see your sweet return? Oh, will I ever learn? Oh-oh, lover, you should've come over 'Cause it's not too late

Lonely is the room, the bed is made The open window lets the rain in Burning in the corner is the only one who dreams He had you with him

My body turns And yearns for a sleep that won't ever come It's never over My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder It's never over All my riches for her smiles When I've slept so soft against her It's never over All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter It's never over She is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

Oh, but maybe I'm just too young To keep good love from going wrong

Oh-oh-oh, lover You should've come over, yeah, yes Yes, I feel too young to hold on And much too old to break free and run Too deaf, dumb and blind to see the damage I've done Sweet lover, you should've come over

Oh, love, well I've waited for you Lover, lover, lover Lover, love, love, love, love, love, love! Lover, you should've come over 'Cause it's not too late

[crimsoncandy04]

I have more Wanderer as a parent headcanons.

For one, he's not controlling but due to witnessing loss caused by illness in the past, he is VERY particular about his kids keeping up with their health.

No he's not an almond dad.

But his babies definitely go to the doctor more than just regularly and are always well groomed and dressed properly in cold weather. He's not taking any chances and if his child catches a cold or something minor, he's not leaving their bedside.

He'd be sleeping in a chair beside that baby every night until their cough stopped and their fever went away. Always making sure they had enough water, soup, and medicine while they recovered.

Also you'd think he has no problem just getting mad at his kids for behaving badly at times, but he definitely has to get himself together before scolding them. And when he storms out after finishing?

He's trying not to break down himself in the other room. He hates seeing his kid look upset when they're being reprimanded. So he's trying to stay strong even though he really just wants to take it back. But they need to know how to conduct themselves and so he'd simply wait and compose himself before seeing them again.

Also because it's Christmas soon I have a sweet little holiday headcanon too.

Wanderer thinks the idea of Santa is stupid. But he would NEVER take that human experience from his (most likely) half human babies. And so he'd reluctantly play along when his kids wrote their letters to Santa and wanted to decorate a tree or something.

He's not eating those cookies though.

Instead he always leaves a small note "from Santa" saying that he was simply "too full" by the time he reached their house and to say he's sorry for not accepting their snacks, he gave them extra gifts. (Wanderer just bought way more toys than he should have. He doesn't always spoil his kids but in certain ways he does and this holiday is one of them.)

[youchangedmedestiel]

I wrote a Destiel ficlet for New Year's Eve. I scheduled it to be posted at midnight in my country (France). I'm so excited for you to read it.

I like what I did, and this doesn't happen very often. I'm enjoying the feeling. I can't wait for it to be posted and I hope you'll like it 😁

WAIT, wait! I'm trying to stay chill and patient...