#I WILL NOT LET YOU GROW UP IN THIS PLACE. / holly.

[osbxrne]

HANDMAIDS ALWAYS WALK IN TWOS， REMEMBER? / june + janine.

I THINK IN THIS PLACE， YOU GRAB LOVE WHEREVER YOU CAN FIND IT. / june + nick.

WELL，I LIKE IT. I LIKE HIS GARBAGE. / june + luke.

IN ANOTHER LIFE，MAYBE WE COULD'VE BEEN COLLEAGUES. IN THIS ONE，WE'RE HERETICS. / june + serena.

YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE CAPABLE OF UNTIL YOU HAVE TO DO IT. / self

I SHOULD’VE LET YOU BURN WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE. / serena.

I WENT BACK TO NICK. TIME AFTER TIME， ON MY OWN. / nick.

NIGHT BY NIGHT HE RECEDES，I BECOME MORE FAITHLESS. / luke.

SHE COMES SO CLEARLY TO ME IN THE BATH. / hannah.

I WILL NOT LET YOU GROW UP IN THIS PLACE. / holly.

KEEP YOUR FUCKING SHIT TOGETHER. / moira.

RED LEADER STANDING BY! / janine.

YOU FAILED THEM. YOU FAILED YOUR PRECIOUS GIRLS! / lydia.

YOU HELPED CREATE THIS WORLD，HOW LONG DID YOU THINK BEFORE IT CAME FOR YOU? / joseph.

YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT IS TO HAVE A CHILD OF YOUR OWN FLESH & BLOOD & YOU NEVER WILL. / fred.

MAYBE THIS IS AS FREE AS WE'RE GONNA GET. / alma.

PIOUS LITTLE SHIT. / emily.

I WANT MY BABY TO KNOW KINDNESS. / rita.

MAKE ME PROUD. / esther.

I'M SORRY I WAS SUCH A SHIT TO YOU. I GOT LOST， I THINK. / natalie.

WEAR THE DRESS，PULL THE STRINGS. / musings.

A RAT IN A MAZE IS FREE TO GO ANYWHERE，LONG AS IT STAYS INSIDE THE MAZE. / about.

THEY SHOULD HAVE NEVER GIVEN US UNIFORMS IF THEY DIDN’T WANT US TO BE AN ARMY. / gilead.

THE WHITE TUNNELS OF CLOTH THAT ENCLOSE US. / wardrobe.

SEASON ONE. / v1.

SEASON TWO. / v2.

SEASON THREE. /v3.

WE THOUGHT WE HAD SUCH PROBLEMS. HOW WERE WE TO KNOW WE WERE HAPPY? / pre gilead.

[7ndipity]

"Tell Me You're Mine"

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi’s always been secure in his relationship with you, but what happens when you and your childhood friend, Jin, start spending a little too much time together after he moves in next door?

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut, possessive dom Yoongi, subby reader, light choking, marking, oral(fem rec), unprotected sex(don’t do this pls), spanking, pregnancy mention,

A/n: Thanks to @bangtansmauyeondan for this request! I had a lot of fun writing this one, it got away from me and came out a lil more fluffy than angsty tho. I hope you like it!

Masterlist

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Yoongi quietly let himself in the front door, a sigh of relief slipping out involuntarily as the familiar scents and sounds of your home filled his senses. Your favorite scented candle, the faint hum of the washing machine down the hall, Holly’s tiny snores from his napping spot on the couch.

Tiredly making his way through the house, he finally felt himself relax as he found you in the kitchen, coming up behind you as you were washing ingredients for dinner and wrapping his arms around your waist tightly, tucking his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

“Hi.” He mumbled.

“Hey.” You giggled, turning enough to connect your lips to his in greeting, grinning at his tired expression. “Long day?”

“Mhm.” He hummed, rubbing face against the material of your shirt. “How was your day?”

“Pretty good, I went with Jin to help him pick out some new things for his place.” You said, missing the way Yoongi’s body tensed ever so faintly against yours, his mouth twitching down into a grimace.

Jin was an old friend of yours from school, whom he’d met once or twice over the years and who seemed like a really nice guy, but since he had moved in next door to the two of you, Yoongi had found himself disliking him more and more.

There was nothing wrong with him really, he was polite, funny, charming, you loved spending time with him.

Actually, that was what was wrong with him.

Yoongi had never really been the clingy type or easily jealous, it was something he had rather prided himself in, knowing that the two of you had complete faith and trust in each other. Which is why you hanging out with your old friend shouldn’t have bothered him so much, and originally it didn’t.

But then one afternoon had turned into another, and another.

Yoongi knew deep down that there was nothing to worry about, you and Jin were just friends, but he couldn’t help his growing sense of unease. It was starting to feel like you were spending more time with Jin than with your own husband.

As if to prove his point, your phone suddenly pinged next to you on the counter, the screen lighting up to show a text from Jin, followed by another, and then another.

Thanks again for today

I had a lot of fun

Yk I’d have been lost without you, lol💙

It was an insignificant little thing, but that little emoji caused something inside of Yoongi to snap.

Before you could even glance at your phone, Yoongi had spun you around, pinning you between him and the sink, his hands tightly gripping your waist.

He crashed his lips against yours, swallowing your muffled whimper of surprise. Immediately his hand came to wrap around the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer.

You pushed back, gasping for breath. "Babe, what-”

"Come. Here." Yoongi's eyes bore into yours, almost black with lust, silencing any argument from you.

You went lax in his hold, allowing him to close the gap between you again, kissing you with all the passion he could muster.

He nipped at your bottom lip, making you gasp and giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, letting out a huff of satisfaction as he tasted you, tangling his tongue with yours.

As he roughly kneaded the soft flesh of your hip with one hand, the other slid from the back of your neck around to rest against your throat, squeezing just enough to make you let out a whimper, the sound muffled by his mouth still firmly glued to yours.

Yoongi pushed you up onto the counter, your legs spreading enough for him to slot between, his mouth only leaving yours to continue his assault on your neck, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin and making you mewl as he ground his hardening length against your clothed core.

"I thought- thought you were tired?" You panted, struggling to catch your breath.

"Don’t care, need you." He groaned, sucking harshly on the spot below your ear that made your mind go hazy.

As his hands began to fumble with your shirt, your phone rang beside you on the counter, Jin’s name illuminated on the screen, making Yoongi’s blood boil.

Before you could ever process what was happening, Yoongi had grabbed the phone and accepted the call.

“We’re fucking busy right now.” He growled, hanging up and slamming the phone down on the counter again.

“Y-Yoongi, what the-” Your words were cut off by his mouth on yours again.

“I’ll make you forget his fucking name.” He swore, dropping to his knees in front of you.

He shoved your skirt up, yanking your underwear to the side before diving straight into your dripping cunt.

He groaned at how soaked you already were for him, dragging his tongue between your folds up to your clit to collect your arousal, his motions rapidly becoming hungrier, greedier, lapping you up like a man starved

"F-fuck, Yoongi!" You moaned out, the onslaught of sensations too much for your mind to keep up with.

You laced your fingers through his dark hair as you began to buck your hips against his skilled tongue, your motions becoming synchronized.

Yoongi steadied himself by grabbing onto your thighs, letting you grind on him, use him for your pleasure.

You looked down to see his eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration as he worked his mouth against you, the sight enough to cause the tension deep inside you to wind painfully tight, threatening to snap.

“Y-yoongi,” You gasped, your vision blurring at the edges. I’m-”

"Cum for me, Baby. Let go."

Like a command whispered into your bones, you unraveled almost instantly. Yoongi pressed his face closer onto you, letting you ride out your orgasm on his tongue until you slumped back, exhausted.

You’d barely come down when he was standing and pulling you down from the counter.

“Bedroom, now.” He growled, the way he looked at you setting your skin on fire.

He wrapped his arms around you, propelling you towards the bedroom, his lips never straying from your skin for more than a moment.

Once in the bedroom, he pushed you down onto the bed, climbing over you and connecting his mouth with yours again.

Pulling away to roughly remove both of your clothes, Yoongi’s eyes never left you, his gaze hypnotic like a predator with its prey, wanting to tear you apart and consume you entirely, causing you to squirm beneath him.

Now laid bare before him, Yoongi claimed his place between your legs, squeezing the soft flesh of your thighs as he did so.

"So pretty, and all mine.” He hummed, spreading your legs even further apart. “Mine. Isn’t that right?"

"Yours, only yours, Yoongi." You agreed, your head still spinning from your last high. “Please.”

He positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, but didn’t push in yet, choosing instead to tease you by just tapping it against you, making you twitch in need. "Tell me you want it, Baby, wanna hear you say it."

"Please, Yoongi. Fuck me, please. Need to feel you." You begged.

He’d always been so good at this, making you desperate for him, your pleas sending blood rushing straight to his cock.

"Good girl." He pressed into you with the last word, causing you to let out a borderline pornographic moan, eyes rolling back in your head.

He quickly set a brutal pace, pounding into you relentlessly as he gripped your waist, your body jolting with every thrust, your hands clutching at his forearms for stability.

"Tell me you're mine." He panted out.

"I'm yours, Yoongi, all yours." You gasped out, you pussy clenching around him as you spoke, making him almost dizzy with need.

“Who’s making you feel this good? Who’s the only one that makes you like this?” He huffed.

But the way he was pounding into you was causing your mind to drift away, floating somewhere in the stratosphere until he brought you back down to earth and him with a firm slap to your ass.

“Say it!” He demanded.

“Yoongi!” You cried out, the sharp sting of pain blending with pleasure bringing tears to your eyes.

“Say it again!”

“Y-yoongi!” You sobbed.

He picked up his pace, well aware that the bedroom windows were open, but he couldn't care less. He needed to hear your pretty moans as you begged for him, he needed the world to hear it.

"Mine. My baby.” He groaned. “Fuck, ought to cum in you, get you pregnant, make sure everybody knows you’re mine.”

You broke at his words, shaking in his vice-like hold as your second orgasm crashed over you.

Feeling you come undone, squeezing his cock so hard he couldn’t breathe, sent him over the edge, his hips losing their rhythm as he collapsed on top of you, spilling deep inside your twitching heat.

Silence fell over the room, broken only by you and Yoongi’s shaky breaths as you tried to collect yourselves.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, his softening length still nested inside of you, gently stroking your hair. All of the earlier roughness and aggression was nowhere to be seen as he looked down at you softly, almost apprehensive.

“Yeah, are you?” You asked, voice now slightly hoarse.

“Mhm,” He nodded, tracing his fingers over the curve of your shoulder.

He carefully moved off of you, moving to lay next to you before pulling you gently to his chest.

You waited a few moments before asking. “You wanna tell me what brought all that on?”

He let out a breath. “It’s dumb.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You said, giving him a look as you waited for him to explain.

“It’s just-” He sighed. “You and Jin.”

You frowned. “What about me and Jin?”

“Nothing, you’ve just… You’ve been spending a lot of time together lately. And he’s nice and all, but… it’s just, you spent all day with him, and then he keeps fucking texting you.” He brought an arm up to cover his eyes as irritation began to bubble up in his stomach at the memory. “I don’t know.”

“I didn’t know it bothered you that much.” You said quietly.

“It doesn’t,” He said, too quickly. “At least, not usually. I just...”

You sat up, turning to look at him properly.

“Yoongi, look at me,” You said softly. “Please?”

He let his arm fall away from his face, cautiously meeting your gaze.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel jealous. I like spending time with Jin, but my friendship with him could never even remotely compare to how much I love you.” You said, caressing his face. “You’re all I want forever.”

His heart stuttered as you leaned closer, pressing the softest of kisses to his swollen, love bruised lips.

It was almost funny, after everything that transpired in the past hour, the simple act of you kissing him was what made him feel the most unsteady.

You were his world, he couldn't imagine his life without you, or rather didn’t want to. He knew what it looked like, flat, bleak, nothingness.

You were what made life livable for him. Without you, it would just be surviving, and he’d had enough of that before the two of you met.

Drawing you back down to him, all his earlier insecurities faded out like a distant memory. The reassuring feeling of holding you in his arms, you sighing contentedly against his chest, was everything he needed and more.

“I love you.” He said, almost too quiet to hear.

“I love you too.” Your sleepy reply was the last thing he heard before he drifted off.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0o0o0ooo @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[blackynsupremacy]

THIS CHRISTMAS

pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

summary: celebrating christmas with your husband and daughter has never been sweeter.

contains: holiday cheer and fluff, established relationship, reader and nicholas are married, wife/mom!reader, husband/dad!nicholas, just holly jolly vibes, kissing, cuddling, a little suggestiveness, nicholas calls his daughter “butterfly”.

a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS SHAWTIES!

taglist: @greengoblinswifey @thabiddie23 @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @supaprettyg @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @venic-bxtch @stargirl-mayaa @miguelspvssy

“mommy! daddy! wake up! it’s christmas!”

the elated voice of your five-year-old daughter, armani, woke you and your husband, nicholas, up out of your slumber as she was jumping at the foot of your bed in her pink, buffalo plaid pajama set along with a matching pink, silk bonnet to protect her freshly, braided hair with beads. with a yawn and stretch, your eyes slowly open to look over at the digital clock on your nightstand that read eight a.m. sharp.

“mhm—that’s right, ‘mani.” you rub the sleep out of your eyes to clearly get a glimpse of the pristine blanket of snow that covered every inch of the yard like a winter fantasy. you found that to be absolutely perfect for a day like this. you open your arms to your daughter who wastes no time to snuggle within your lap, you hug her to your chest and place a kiss atop of the silk of her headwrap.

“you ready to see what santa got you, my love?” you question with a whisper, armani hastily nodded, but she was hesitant.

“yeah—but, not without daddy.” she responded also in a whisper. you smile. armani loved you both immensely, but it was no lie that she was a daddy’s girl, so you let her do the honors. the little girl rolls over to shake your snoring husband’s shoulder.

“daaaaaddy! wake upppp!” she urged pushing him as if he were an hundred pound log that was impossible to move.

“nooo, five more minutes…” nicholas grumbled, pulling the covers tighter over his body.

“nuh-uh!” with a pout, armani shook her head. “i can’t waitttt! i want to see what santa got and i don’t want to do it without you, pleaseee!” with a pout she begged and crawled over nicholas, hoping her father would muster the strength to free himself from the warm cocoon of blankets. armani repeatedly tapped his head and shoulders, causing you to chuckle. you loved that she was tenacious, a true fighter who knows what she wants. nicholas couldn’t knock it at all. with a sudden burst of energy, his arm came around to entrap armani in an embrace in which she squealed loudly.

“daddy’s up now! good morning, butterfly.” he greets planting a kiss on the giggling girl’s cheek. you’ve always loved that nickname for her. when she was first born, he coined that for her because it was like she was in a cozy cocoon as a baby and as time passes by, she continues to grow and change into something as beautiful as a butterfly. you and nicholas were just a young twenty year old couple in college that happened to fool around one too many times which resulted in you getting pregnant. you were terrified because you thought that nicholas would surely leave, but it was the exact opposite. he was on his way to star in a soap opera and he still wanted to be there for you and his child, knowing he could support you both. it was a tough journey, but you found a love that grew deeper. when your daughter hit six months, nicholas popped the question. it wasn’t a huge wedding because you just didn’t have the time to plan all of it, but it was still a joyous day nonetheless.

armani excitedly greets him back with a kiss on his cheek, his eyes then land on you watching the whole thing as your melodious laughter fills the room. he observes with a mischievous grin,

“what’s so funny, gorgeous? i bet you want what she’s having. c’mere!” he quips and you try to protest, but it’s too late as you’re already scooped by nicholas’ free arm to be glued by his side while your daughter resides in his lap.

“merry christmas, girls!” he enthusiastically chimed and you simultaneously return the greeting. armani urges you both to get a move on and open some gifts. all on one accord, you and your family washed your faces and brushed your teeth before venturing downstairs to the lit, decorated living room with nicholas by your side and armani on his hip. she’s so spoiled! the christmas tree was a sight for sore eyes as presents galore were perfectly aligned around the tree.

“yaaaaaay!” armani squirms within her dad’s arms for him chuckle and release her to the floor, her tiny feet scurrying around not knowing which present to open first. you and your husband were exhausted from setting out these presents while armani was in a deep slumber, so you took a seat on the couch and took out your phone to capture this moment. armani was estatic as she opened every gift to reveal an item that she wanted on her list. a barbie dream house, lol dollz, squishmallows, and the top two for being extra good during her first semester of kindergarten: a brand new bike and a tenth generation pink ipad with an apple pencil.

“look what i got! you see it, mommy? look, daddy!” she ran up to you both to reveal the packaged devices in which you both will set up later for her.

“that’s awesome, butterfly! that’s what you get for being such a good girl all year. i’m so proud of you—now, what do we always say when we get something, hm?” nicholas communicates, leaning forward on his knees while caressing his thumb over the honey skin of his daughter’s face to which she grins. you coo at the interaction.

“thank you so much! this is the best christmas ever.” she comes in to individually give you each a hug.

“that’s my girl!” nicholas commends returning the hug.

“you’re welcome, ‘mani! santa’s glad you’re enjoying everything.” you say with a knowing wink towards your husband.

“i got something for you too! wait, don’t move.” she hurriedly ran upstairs to retrieve the gift she made in school which was expertly hidden in her bedroom until christmas. as armani walks down she calls out in the distance,

“i’m coming. close your eyes, okay!?”

you and nicholas smile, complying to her request. you could hear the patter of her tiny feet scurry to you closer.

“you can open them now!” she proudly announced. you and nicholas are amazed to see the crafted gifts your daughter put so much thought into. for you, she made a bracelet that resembled those from taylor swift’s eras tour, successfully spelling the word, “MOMMY”. although you weren’t a big fan, you can’t resist belting out some songs with armani when the opportunity is presented because she adores the singer. for nicholas, it was a calender for the upcoming year, featuring her own unique artwork for each month. armani made it because nicholas’ schedule can get so hectic, so she thought the calendar would help him to keep track, he cherished it with his entire being. you both could cry in gratitude, but you scoop her into a group hug with a simultaneous “thank you.” after exchanging gifts with one another as a couple, nicholas thought it would be a great idea to to bundle up in the new matching north face winter gear he gifted for the family to have some fun in the snow while it was still early.

armani didn’t need an ounce of candy from her stocking for her to bounce off the walls in anticipation as you all got washed up and dressed. as soon as you stepped foot outside, all you could do was stare in awe at how much snow covered the area. it was like straight out of a christmas movie. you could already hear the soft clacking of your daughter’s hair beads as she moved around to scope the yard.

“be careful walking, baby girl, i don’t want you to fall, ‘kay?” you instruct and she responds with a nod.

“yes, ma’am. may we go now, daddy?” she questioned to nicholas, tugging on his arm. he looked at you both a mischievous smirk. lord, what is this man up to now?

“i don’t see why not, butterfly—the last one to make a snow angel is a stinky grinch!” he exclaimed to let go of armani’s hand to get a head start into the icy, white powder on the ground.

“oh, no he didn’t! c’mon, ‘mani.” you giggle and race with your daughter to follow after nicholas. before you know it, you’re all in your own space of snow, sprawling your limbs up and down to sculpt the perfect snow angel in the frosted covered earth. nicholas was first to get up from his spot to marvel at the indention he made. like the strong gentleman he is, he reaches out his arms for you and armani each to get you out of the snow. you take your phone out to snap a photo of the family of angels. as you were saving it to a special album in your phone, you didn’t expect for your back to be pelted by a speedball of ice, causing you to yelp at the sensation. you turned slowly with a playful menacing glare towards nicholas and armani who seem to look so “innocent”.

“a’ight. ‘fess up! who did that?” you interrogate them, crouching to the snow as you plot to get your lick back. once your icy spheres of ammo are locked and loaded within your gloved hands, you give them one more chance only for them to point the finger at each other.

“it was daddy!” armani defended.

“nah, don’t listen to her, babe. i swear i saw the whole thing. it was definitely armani.” nicholas rebutted with his hands up in surrender. you smirk with a low chuckle as if you were a supervillain,

“then i guess you leave me no choice.” you say, lifting your arms to aim the snowballs before throwing them in their direction to hit nicholas in his chest and armani in her stomach, causing you all to laugh, but now this means war. you all spent the next hour with your family running around the yard trying to see who can get the most hits followed by building your own snowman. you notice your daughter starting to shiver from the cold and that was your cue to go back inside for breakfast.

after dressing comfortably in a fresh pair of matching pajamas, nicholas sets the atmosphere by gathering some wood to burn in the fireplace while you and armani put the spread of breakfast along with mugs of hot chocolate together on the table. everybody took their seats, it was a lovely meal where you ate and talked about anything under the sun. you all took turns to decorate your hot chocolate with whip cream, chocolate sauce, and sprinkles. you giggle seeing that nicholas went overboard with the whip cream. after he took a sip from the red mug, it was all over his nose and upper lip.

“butterfly.” he calls, causing armani to turn her head. once she gets a glimpse of nicholas’ appearance, the room was instantly filled with her giggles.

“can i get a kiss?” he requested, grinning widely with his messy face.

“noooo!” armani refused her beads clacking as she shakes her head. nicholas pouted,

“why not, butterfly?”

“because you’re a mess, daddy! give mommy one.” she points in your direction to which you wave your hands in refusal, “mm-mm, ‘mani! i don’t want that either. take one for the team.” you say with a chuckle, taking a sip from your mug.

“okay, but if daddy kisses me, i want another present.”

“what would that be, boo?” you ask, yours and nicholas’ brows raise in piqued curiosity.

“hmm—y’know i love you and daddy so much?”

“of course and we love you so much, butterfly.” nicholas affirmed and you nod in agreement by placing a kiss on her forehead.

“i want a baby!” the five year old announces with a beaming voice. you choke on your drink a bit at hearing the words come out, nicholas calmly chimes in to clarify.

“you mean like a baby doll or a real baby?”

armani sighs and palms her face, eager to get her point across. “a real baby, daddy! i just want someone to play with—so, if i give you a kiss, there’ll be a baby next year?” nicholas gave you a glance as you both pondered on the thought. it wouldn’t be so bad. you felt you got some footing on this parenting thing. your careers are established and you’re financially stable. there’s no denial that your baby had grown so fast. it felt like yesterday that she was barely crawling on her first christmas and now, she’s making and giving away her own gifts. you see it from her side as well, having siblings could be such a blessing when the foundation of the relationship is real love, so you give in.

“okay, armani, you got it, but you gotta be patient—really patient.”

“yes!” the girl cheered, she raised her arms before patting her face towards her dad, “hurry, daddy, hurry!” nicholas didn’t waste time to lift her in his arms to plant a sweet kiss to her face which was now covered in the whip cream. she squealed at the sensation to wipe away the mess.

once the kitchen was clean and you made some phone calls of holiday greetings to some family members, you all lay back on the sofa to have a christmas movie marathon starting with none other than home alone. you all enjoy in the classic slapstick hijinks of kevin mcallister. nicholas being the movie geek he is, spoke softly to put in some commentary regarding the film.

“you guys know that black and white crime movie he was watching isn’t real, right?”

“really? how you do know?” armani curiously asked.

“i, uh—mm, i looked it up because i wanted to watch it, aha!” he cleared his throat and bashfully chuckled, wrapping his large arm around you as armani snuggled closer into his chest. by the time the movie ended, your daughter was already snoring away. it was only half past noon and she was tuckered out from all of the holiday excitement. now, with armani peacefully napping in her room, the house was filled with a serene silence. you and nicholas settled in your own bedroom. he leaned back against the headboard pulling you into his side, his warmth radiating against you as the comforter concealed your bodies. there was a pause of silence before nicholas broke it.

“babe, did you mean that earlier?” he asked softly, glancing down at you. “about having another baby?”

“well…” you trail off, cutting a piqued glare towards your husband. “that depends on what you think about it.”

nicholas chuckled, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “well, i guess we have to think about it, don’t we? it’s a big decision.” he paused, a playful grin spreading across his face. “but i can’t deny that the idea of another little one running around would be kind of—sweet.”

you bit your lip with a smile, feeling your face heat up and your heart flutter at the thought. “i think armani would be such a great big sister. she’s already so nurturing as it is. plus, she’s playful, imaginative, and dramatic—thanks to her dad.” you smirk at his feigned offense,

“i beg your pardon. i think she takes that dramatic part after you.”

“says the literal actor.” you quickly retort. he raises his right hand in surrender,

“got me there.”

you both dissolve into laughter for it to die down before resuming the conversation. nicholas expression turned more serious for a moment, gently taking your left hand within his and peering into your eyes. “but it’s not just about armani, y’know, it’s about us too. are we ready for that?” you took a moment, reflecting once more on the joy that armani brought into your lives despite the circumstances. “baby, i think we could handle it. we have our jobs and our home. plus, we make a pretty good team, you know?” you pause, another thought popping into your mind that could further convince him,

“besides, this could be a chance for you to not be the only guy in the house. you’re a boss at being a girl dad no doubt, but deep down you’d want a little nick causing havoc with you.” with a chuckle, his gaze softened, and he leaned in closer to your ear, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “you had me convinced at havoc.” he pressed a lingering kiss to your jaw before peppering more along the line and descending to your neck. he then held onto you to lay you down against the mattress, straddling your body.

“you think we should start trying now?” his smirking lips ghosted over yours for a second before closing the gap between you in a slow, sensual kiss. after indulging in each other for a moment, he pulls back to place his forehead on yours with a gaze mixed of both romance and lust.

“there’s still one gift we haven’t exchanged yet.” he teased, returning his lips to yours as his hands slowly go under your pajama shirt. you giggle and hum softly encouraging him as you felt the temperature of your body rise with every touch to your skin. just as he was about to lift it up, there was a knock at your bedroom door,

“mommy, daddy! can you help me? i wanna play on my ipad.” you and nicholas quickly separate with a sigh and chuckle as you were both back to reality. nicholas rolls himself from on top of you and pulls the covers away to stand and stretch,

“i’m coming, butterfly! gimme a minute, okay?” he calls out before turning to you,

“duty calls. i’ll handle this now then i’ll handle you later?” he asked shooting you a wink.

you giggle with a nod, he was the same flirt that you met five years ago.

“go on. do your thing! i’ll be waiting with your gift right here.” you slyly respond laying across the bed with your chin resting in your palm.

“oh, you better.” he said, opening the door to greet your daughter and promptly attend to her needs. as you peer out of the window at the snowy blizzard outside, you realize that this christmas, you couldn’t ask for anything better than what you have right now.

[angelremnants]

A Christmas to Cherish, A Yule to Remember l L. Laufeyson

summary : When tasked with organizing a holiday cultural exchange between Midgard and New Asgard, you face clashing traditions and unexpected connections. To foster goodwill, you plan a hybrid celebration that blends Christmas with Yule, inviting world leaders and dignitaries to experience Asgard's unique customs. However, hosting off-worlders, especially a skeptical Loki, proves challenging. His sarcasm only more adds tension as sparks begin to fly between you, testing your growing connection. As Yule and Christmas traditions collide, an unexpected kiss under the mistletoe might just be the season's most surprising twist.

pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

warnings : tooth-rotting fluff, mutual pining, cultural clashes, emotional vulnerability, sarcastic banter, mild angst with eventual heartwarming fluff, some hurt/comfort, teasing, suggestive flirtation, references to holiday traditions, references to norse lore and traditions.

word count : 18.3k

author's notes : Ho ho ho! You didn’t think I would pass up the chance to write an Asgardian Christmas story, did you? I admit, I may have gone a bit overboard with this fic. What can I say? Santa’s spirit inspired me greatly. Well, this and jschlatt's christmas album.

Like my first ever Loki fic, this is loosely connected to the A Tales Of series (though in an AU way?) but can definitely be read as a stand-alone. This narrative is somewhat like a Hallmark movie, but let’s be honest: who would turn down a feel-good story, especially featuring our dear god of mischief?

As Gossip Girl once said, have a holly jolly Christmas, xoxo.

(ao3 version)

The snow-dusted village of New Asgard glimmered under the pale light of a crisp winter morning. Nestled along the rugged Norwegian coast, the settlement was a patchwork of old-world Asgardian charm and Midgardian practicality. Wooden houses stood sturdily against the biting wind, their roofs lined with faint traces of frost. Small boats bobbed gently in the harbor, and the faint hum of activity filled the air as Asgardians went about their lives. For you, this place was no stranger—it felt like stepping into a world both ancient and familiar, a realm that had become something of a second home.

Your arrival this time lacked the fanfare of your first visit. You stepped out of the rumbling helicopter onto the cobblestone square, the crunch of your boots against the frosty ground drawing a few curious glances from passersby. You adjusted the scarf around your neck, the chill of the air biting your cheeks as you scanned the familiar faces awaiting you. Your attire was both practical and stylish: a dark wool coat cinched at the waist accompanied by equally dark thigh stockings and combat boots, a deep burgundy scarf, and black gloves to ward off the cold.

Ever the picture of poise and authority, Brunnhilde stood at the forefront, her arms crossed and a knowing smirk playing on her lips. She wore a sleek leather jacket lined with fur, a modern touch to her otherwise warrior-like appearance. Beside her was Thor, his golden locks catching the sunlight as he waved enthusiastically, clad in a thick knit sweater that somehow managed to look regal, and slightly behind them, Loki, who looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else but here. Dressed in a dark green cloak over his tailored Asgardian tunic, his expression was one of perpetual exasperation.

“Well, if it isn’t our favorite Midgardian diplomat,” Brunnhilde called out, her voice carrying easily over the chatter of the square. “Welcome back, sweet cheeks.”

“Favorite? Or just the one who causes the most trouble?” Loki quipped, his tone dry as he adjusted his green-and-gold cloak. His sharp eyes lingered on you momentarily, taking in your wind-flushed cheeks and bright smile.

“Missed you too, Mischief,” you shot back with a grin, brushing past him to greet Brunnhilde with a brief hug.

Thor clapped a hand on your shoulder, nearly knocking you off balance with his exuberance. “It’s good to see you again, Lady [Y/N]! Come, you must be freezing. We’ve prepared a feast worthy of a returning friend.”

“I’m sure it’s as subtle as ever, big guy,” you teased, raising a brow. As you followed them towards the grand longhouse, you turned to Thor, a hint of curiosity in your eyes. “I thought you’d be off-world with the Guardians of the Galaxy. What brings you here?”

Thor shrugged, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Even the god of thunder needs a break, and what better place to rest than home? Besides, someone has to make sure these two don’t kill each other.”

“That’s reassuring,” you said dryly, earning a chuckle from Brunnhilde. “But I’m not here just for feasts. There’s a little diplomacy to be done too, remember?”

The newly appointed Allfather led the group toward the longhouse that served as New Asgard’s central hub. “We wouldn’t dream of letting you forget your duties. Though, knowing Thor, he might try to bribe you with ale and roasted boar.”

“Would it work?” Thor asked, grinning as he held open the door.

Inside, the longhouse was warm and inviting, its timber walls adorned with carvings that told stories of Asgardian history. Intricate designs of Asgardian history and the nine realms stretched across the beams, illuminated by the flicker of firelight. A large hearth roared at the center of the hall, its heat radiating outward and mingling with the smell of spiced mead and freshly baked bread. You let the warmth seep into your bones, feeling a sense of comfort you rarely found elsewhere.

You took a seat at the long wooden table, its surface polished to a high shine, the grain of the wood still bearing marks of its Asgardian craftsmanship. As you settled around the long wooden table, the conversation shifted naturally, the camaraderie among them making you feel like part of the family.

“We’re honored you could join us again,” Brunnhilde said, pouring you a cup of mead. “Especially so close to your Midgardian holiday—what is it called again? Christmas?”

“That’s the one,” you confirmed, taking a sip of the sweet drink. “It’s a huge, worldwide deal here. Lights, trees, gifts, food—basically everything Thor loves, but with more glitter.”

Thor laughed heartily. “Glitter sounds like a fine addition to any celebration!”

“Hardly,” Loki muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. “Leave it to Midgardians to turn a perfectly good winter solstice into a gaudy spectacle.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, leaning forward with a playful smirk. “You’re telling me Asgardians don’t have their own version of an over-the-top winter celebration?”

Loki exchanged a look with Thor, who chuckled sheepishly. “We do,” the blonde admitted. “It’s called Yule. But it’s not quite as… excessive as your Christmas. It’s more about tradition—feasting, storytelling, honoring the turning of the seasons. We celebrate every five years, given our longer lifespans.”

“Every five years?” you repeated, your brows lifting in surprise. “That’s… really long and sad to hear.” You mulled over the information before your eyes lit up as you sat straighter, as if struck by lightning. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. The United Nations and New Asgard have been strengthening ties through mutual aid, cultural exchange programs, and even security. But diplomacy shouldn’t just be treaties and meetings—it needs moments of connection. What better way than inviting emissaries from Midgard to experience Yule with you?”

Thor beamed, slapping the table. “Now that’s an idea worthy of Asgard!”

Loki’s scoff was almost immediate. “Ah yes, because what we need is another excuse for Thor to hang glittering baubles everywhere.”

“Don’t tempt me, brother,” Thor replied, his grin widening.

Ignoring Loki’s grumbling, you pressed on. “I’m serious. Think of it: world leaders, ambassadors, and cultural experts all coming together to witness your traditions while sharing ours. It’s symbolic—a reminder that Earth is now your home too. It’ll also facilitate recognition of your country’s borders from the neighboring countries, and God knows how much you need it for the UN to get off your asses.”

Brunnhilde nodded thoughtfully. “It would certainly help foster goodwill. But it’s not without its challenges. Hosting off-worlders isn’t exactly simple. Though organizing something like this would take effort. And volunteers.”

“I’ll handle the logistics,” you offered. “We’ll make it a hybrid celebration—Christmas and Yule, blending the best of both worlds. Think of it as creating a new tradition for New Asgard. We have three weeks at most for this, I’m sure we’ll manage to come up with something nice.”

Loki let out a soft, sarcastic laugh. “How charming. Perhaps we can also write jingles to serenade these dignitaries.”

Thor, however, seemed genuinely excited. “Brother, you must admit—this could be grand event. We can show Midgard our hospitality while learning from them in return. You should participate with us, especially considering your probation status.” He said brightly, clapping his brother on the back.

Loki’s expression darkened immediately. “I will do no such thing.”

“Oh, don't be such a wet blanket,” you teased. “Think of it as a way to get back into everyone’s good graces. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be doing?”

His sharp gaze met yours, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to crackle. “If I agree to this farce,” he said finally, his voice low and deliberate, “it will not be because you’ve managed to guilt me into it.”

“Of course not,” you replied sweetly. “It’ll be because you secretly enjoy a good challenge.”

Brunnhilde leaned back in her chair, smirking as she watched the exchange. “Well, it’s settled then. [Y/N], you’re officially in charge of Christmas diplomacy. But don’t expect Loki to be helpful.”

Loki sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This will end in disaster.”

“Only if you let it,” you said, your tone light but your eyes sparkling with determination. “Besides, a little festivities never hurt anyone.”

“You’re delusional if you think this will go smoothly,” he retorted, earning a laugh from Thor and a pointed look from Brunnhilde.

As the conversation wound down, you couldn’t help but feel the excitement bubbling inside you. This was going to be a holiday unlike any other—a melding of traditions, cultures, and worlds.

⠀

The royal library of New Asgard was a marvel of timeless craftsmanship and quiet grandeur. Its towering, vaulted ceilings bore intricate carvings of Asgardian myths, the golden threads in their design shimmering faintly under the glow of enchanted lamps. Rows upon rows of towering bookshelves, brimming with ancient tomes and fragile scrolls, stretched upward as if reaching for the heavens. The air carried the faint scent of aged parchment and polished wood, a comforting reminder of centuries of preserved knowledge. Warm light illuminated the dark, ornately carved furniture, casting soft shadows that danced with a gentle flicker. It was a sanctuary of wisdom and serenity—and, at present, an arena of subtle conflict.

You sat at a large, circular table, its surface strewn with papers, notes, and an assortment of books ranging from Midgardian holiday traditions to Asgardian histories. You tapped your pen against the notebook in front of you, glancing across the table at Loki, who looked entirely unamused. He lounged in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, absently flipping through a book as if he couldn’t be less interested.

“This is supposed to be a brainstorming session,” you said, breaking the silence. “Not a sulking session.”

Loki didn’t look up, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. “I assure you, I’m doing neither. I’m merely tolerating this… exercise in futility.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “You mean the logistics for what could be one of the most culturally significant events New Asgard has hosted since its founding?”

“Culturally significant?” Loki echoed, finally looking up. His emerald eyes glimmered with amusement, though his tone remained dry. “You’re combining gaudy, Midgardian frivolities with centuries-old Asgardian tradition. Forgive me if I fail to see the ‘significance’ in that.”

“Excuse me—gaudy?” you repeated, mock-offended. “You say that as if Asgardians don’t have a penchant for drama and grandeur themselves. I’ve never seen more divas than you guys, actually.”

Loki smirked but said nothing, instead closing the book he had been flipping through with an exaggerated snap. He gestured to the pile of materials on the table. “Very well, enlighten me. Which Midgardian traditions are we meant to subject ourselves to this time? Ugly sweaters? Marshmallows floating in heated milk?”

You laughed, leaning back in your chair. “First of all, ugly sweaters are iconic. Secondly, you can’t tell me that enchanted ale or Thor’s thunderous feast presentations aren’t Asgard’s version of over-the-top. It’s practically the same thing.”

“That’s debatable,” Loki tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “But I’ll concede that Thor’s idea of revelry is... boisterous. But at least our celebrations have history, tradition, and dignity—unlike your chaotic, candy-cane-laden spectacles.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Oh, sure. Because nothing says ‘dignity’ like smashing a barrel of mead over someone’s head when you’ve had too much.”

He couldn’t suppress a chuckle, the rich sound echoing in the quiet library. “Touché. Still, I doubt you’ll find a single Midgardian festivity that rivals the elegance of an Asgardian Yule feast.”

“Well, then,” you said, leaning forward with a teasing glint in your eye. “Let’s make sure this one does. What do you say we blend the two? Grand Asgardian feast meets Midgardian charm.”

Loki tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as if studying you. “If we are to make this ‘blend’ of yours work, it will require proper execution. I refuse to let Midgardian cuisine overshadow Asgardian delicacies.”

You smirked, folding your arms across your chest. “Who said anything about overshadowing? I’m just saying the two can complement each other—if you don’t insist on being so stubborn about it.”

“I am simply being practical,” he countered, feigning offense at the remark. “Your realm’s fascination with things like marshmallow-topped casseroles is... baffling.”

“Okay, first of all, not every dish is like that,” you retorted with a laugh. “Secondly, maybe you just haven’t had the right Midgardian food. Let me handle it, and you’ll see.”

Loki leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as a smirk tugged at his lips. “Very well. If you’re so confident in your culinary abilities, I’ll leave the Midgardian fare to you. But don’t expect me to lift a finger if it turns into a disaster.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of asking you to,” you teased, your tone dripping with mock sweetness. “I’ll manage the Midgardian menu and decorations—after all, I’ve got experience with this sort of thing. And you can handle the Asgardian side of things. Deal?”

He regarded you for a moment, his emerald eyes gleaming with intrigue. “Deal. Though I expect nothing less than perfection on your part. Our reputation depends on it.”

“Funny, I was going to say the same to you,” you shot back with a grin.

Loki leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Then it’s settled. I’ll curate a feast that embodies the grandeur and tradition of Asgard. You... can figure out how to make your chaotic cuisine somewhat palatable.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your laughter. “Whatever. We need to make this event big enough to fund itself. That means inviting not just the locals but foreign envoys, dignitaries, and even some of the press.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of disapproval crossing his features. “Ah, commercializing a solstice celebration. How very... Midgardian of you.”

You shrugged. “Well, we don’t have unlimited resources. Unless you’d like me to request funds from the treasury—and deal with Val’s budget lectures?”

“Perish the thought,” Loki muttered.

“Exactly,” you said, smirking. “So, we’ll sell tickets for the main events and some of the smaller ones leading up to the big day. Maybe even have booths with crafts and snacks. People love that kind of thing. You’d be surprised how much they’ll pay for something with a story behind it.”

“Fascinating,” he said dryly. “You’ve turned a festival of tradition into a marketplace.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” you teased. “It’s just good planning. Besides, someone has to oversee the sales and ensure we don’t turn this into complete chaos.”

Loki arched a brow, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “And naturally, you’ve decided that someone is you?”

“Of course,” you replied with mock seriousness. “I happen to be very good at multitasking. I’ll handle the ticket sales, the booths, and the Midgardian side of things while you can focus on maintaining Asgardian traditions. A win-win.”

“Convenient,” he remarked, leaning back in his chair. “You delegate the tedious work to me while you run your little market empire.”

You grinned. “It’s called playing to our strengths, Loki. And besides, don’t pretend you’re not secretly thrilled to have complete creative control over the Asgardian portion.”

Loki chuckled softly, his gaze sharpening with intrigue. “Very well, but if I’m to oversee Asgardian traditions, you’ll have to prepare yourself for customs far richer—and far more theatrical—than your quaint Midgardian charm.”

“Like what?” you challenged, leaning forward.

“For instance,” he began, his voice slipping into a storytelling tone, “the Wild Hunt. A tradition led by Odin himself, where ghostly riders swept across the skies in search of lost souls. It’s a spectacle of power, mysticism, and awe. Imagine recreating it, with shadowed steeds and ethereal warriors galloping through the night.”

You blinked, your expression shifting between amusement and concern. “You mean you want to reenact something that, if I recall correctly, terrified Midgardians for centuries? Sounds... subtle.”

His smirk widened. “Subtlety is overrated. The Hunt would remind everyone of Asgard’s grandeur, a symbol of tradition and strength. Besides, it’s far more engaging than watching mortals sing around a fireplace.”

“Oh, speaking of fireplaces,” you interjected quickly, “what about the Yule log? That’s one tradition I can get behind. A cozy fire, some mulled ale—it’s charming.”

Loki rolled his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. “The Yule log is passable at best, but it pales in comparison to the Wild Hunt’s grandeur. Imagine thunder rolling in the heavens, spectral figures cutting through the sky, and Odin’s name whispered in awe.”

“Yeah, because holiday cheer is guaranteed by scaring the wits out of everyone,” you replied, crossing your arms. “How about this—we tone it down? Maybe we could turn the Hunt into something interactive, like a quest. A game for everyone, where they follow clues and complete challenges to ‘join’ Odin’s riders or uncover their secrets. It keeps the mystique but makes it fun rather than terrifying.”

Loki tilted his head, considering your suggestion. “An interactive quest... intriguing. It could preserve the spirit of the Hunt while appealing to the masses. But I insist on weaving in Asgardian lore—stories of valor, wit, and cunning—so it isn’t entirely watered down.”

“Fine by me,” you said with a grin. “And while you’re at it, I’ll make sure the Yule log has its rightful place. Even if it’s not as ‘grand’ as the Hunt, some traditions are worth keeping simple. Maybe the quest could end with everyone gathering around the fire to share stories and rewards.”

Loki gave you a sidelong glance, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “If we must. But I reserve the right to oversee every detail of this quest. If it fails, it’ll be because of your Midgardian ‘simplicity.’”

You rolled your eyes. “Speaking of Midgardian traditions, what about something for the children? Maybe they could write letters about their wishes for the new year. It’d be a way to honor the spirit of giving—and maybe a subtle nod to Odin. After all, he was considered a Santa-like figure back in the day.”

Loki’s expression darkened slightly, his teasing smirk fading. “A ‘Santa-like figure’? Is that how you choose to remember the All-Father? As some mortal caricature who doles out trinkets?”

You softened your tone. “It’s not about reducing him to that. It’s about creating a memorial that’s accessible to everyone—something heartfelt for the people, especially the children.”

He shook his head, his gaze dropping to the table. “Children don’t need to write frivolous letters when they already have the tradition of storytelling. It was one of the few times we, as a people, passed down something meaningful. Stories that carried wisdom, courage, and strength.”

You noticed the melancholic edge to his voice, the faraway look in his eyes. “You miss it, don’t you? The way things used to be.”

Loki didn’t respond immediately, his fingers tracing the edge of a page in one of the books. “Asgard was flawed, but it was home. These traditions... they’re all fragments of a life we can never fully restore.”

You reached across the table, your hand brushing his. “Then let’s make sure those fragments shine as brightly as they can. We might not be able to bring back everything, but we can honor what mattered—and maybe even create something new along the way.”

His gaze lifted to yours, a flicker of gratitude softening his features. “You’re unbearably persistent, you know that?”

“And you’re unreasonably dramatic,” you replied with a teasing grin, leaning back in your chair. “Now, about those stories...”

You went on like this for nearly the entire evening, your playful banter echoing through the quiet halls. One idea led to another, each suggestion sparking either spirited debate or begrudging agreement, until most of the tasks were neatly divided between you. Somewhere along the way, it turned into a friendly competition—Midgardian ingenuity versus Asgardian grandeur. Loki, ever the perfectionist, declared that his half of the event would be a masterpiece of tradition and elegance, while you, with a teasing grin, promised to bring charm and creativity to yours. By the end of it, your rivalry was set, and the stakes were clear: whoever’s contributions won the most admiration during the celebration would earn the undeniable right to gloat.

Three days after the council meeting, New Asgard had been buzzing with excitement. Word of the upcoming celebration spread like wildfire, and the entire realm was invested in the planning. Everyone—from the youngest child to the oldest elder—had some part to play in bringing the festivities to life. The atmosphere was electric, filled with anticipation for the grand feast, the traditions, and the merging of Midgardian charm with Asgardian grandeur. The excitement was contagious, and for a brief moment, the people of New Asgard felt united in their mission to make this event unforgettable.

With only two and a half weeks left to pull everything together, things seemed to be running smoothly. The decorations were coming along, the entertainment had been secured, and the Midgardian food vendors had been booked. However, the first hiccup came when you checked in with the cooking team about the feast’s food supplies.

You walked into the grand kitchen, where the chatter of the chefs and cooks filled the air, the scent of spices and roasting meats already beginning to mingle in the warm atmosphere. You neared a table where several of the Asgardian head chefs were organizing inventory, noting down large quantities of food on a parchment. You could already smell the fragrant aromas of roasting meats and simmering stews. You had heard murmurs of excitement as they prepared the grand feast. However, when you glanced over the inventory list, your stomach dropped.

“Ah, my lady, good to see you,” said Thorvald, the head of the Asgardian cooking team, a stocky, broad-shouldered man with a booming laugh and a fondness for rustic dishes. “We’ve made sure we have plenty of meat, and the roasts are looking excellent for the feast. Odin Allfather, bless his soul, would’ve approved of this spread!”

You scanned the numbers on the parchment and furrowed your brow. “This is... a lot of food, Thorvald. Too much, in fact. The quantities are well over the planned budget.”

“Ah, you worry too much, my friend!” Thorvald chuckled. “We want to give the people of New Asgard a true taste of our heritage, yes? We shall not scrimp on food—especially not when it’s for such an occasion!”

“That’s the problem, Thorvald,” you sighed. “We don’t have the funds to support all of this. I was told that the Asgardian part of the menu has far exceeded the budget we allocated for food. It’s going to require cuts—somewhere. And we can’t afford to cut corners with Midgardian elements just because the Asgardian offerings are more expensive.”

Thorvald blinked in surprise. “Cut some of our dishes? That is... not an easy thing to ask of me, my lady. I’ve spent weeks perfecting these recipes for the feast. These dishes are the soul of Asgardian culture!”

“I’m aware of that,” you replied, your tone strained. “But we have to balance the budget. You can’t expect the Midgardian side to be neglected. I’m going to have to speak to Loki about this.”

You left the kitchen with a heavy heart, your mind racing as you made your way to the main hall. As you passed through the stone corridors, you wondered who had approved such a large quantity of food. You assumed it had to be Thor—he had always been more enthusiastic about showcasing Asgardian culture, after all. But when you entered the hall, you spotted Loki deep in conversation with a few council members—Thrain and Freya. That’s when it hit you.

Of course. Loki.

Your steps slowed as you approached the trio. Loki glanced up as you neared, his usual sly smile spreading across his face. “Ah, darling, what a pleasant surprise. How are the preparations coming along?”

“Mischief,” you said, keeping your voice steady, “I just checked the food inventory. You’re over budget. The Asgardian portion alone is far too much. We’re going to need to cut back on something.”

Loki’s grin widened, though there was a glint of something almost mischievous in his eyes. “And what exactly is the problem?”

“You’re blowing the budget,” you said bluntly. “The quantities are ridiculous. You’ve put us in a bind, Loki. I can’t go back to the Midgardian vendors and explain that their share of the food is being cut so we can accommodate your... extravagance.”

Loki’s smile never faltered, and he leaned in slightly, as if savoring the moment. “Everything is permitted when it comes to Asgardian feasts, don’t you think? I had to make sure our food was sumptuous. If we’re going to impress our guests, we must do it right.”

You blinked, incredulous. “You did this? I thought it was Thor who went overboard with the food. But you—you—decided this was appropriate?”

“Indeed,” Loki replied, his tone light, yet his eyes sharp. “Thor is far too busy with other matters. He’s off delivering invitations to the world leaders. Someone had to make sure the Asgardian side was flawless.”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “Loki, I don’t think you understand the issue. This isn’t just about impressing people. We have to balance both sides. If the Asgardian dishes are more expensive, we’ll have to trim something else to stay within budget.”

Loki’s expression hardened slightly, though he kept his composure. “I already told you—everything is permitted. The Asgardian food will be nothing short of magnificent. If that means cutting a corner somewhere else, so be it.”

“This isn’t a game, Loki!” you snapped, your patience thinning. “We agreed on a budget, and I won’t let you push the Midgardian side aside for your grandiose plans.”

Loki’s lips curled into a small smirk. “Very well, then. We’ll trim a few corners where it pleases you. But I’m telling you, it won’t be the same. Asgardian feasts are a tradition. And traditions don’t come cheap.”

“Maybe next time you’ll think before you make decisions like this,” you warned, your tone firm. “This is your best chance at redemption, Loki. Either we figure this out, or the entire celebration could be in jeopardy. I won’t let you sabotage everything.”

Loki held your gaze for a moment, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. Then, he gave a barely perceptible nod. “Fine. I’ll speak with Thorvald and see where we can adjust things. But don’t think this is over, [Y/N]. You’re too concerned with rules and budgets for your own good.”

“Rules and budgets keep everything in line,” you countered. “Without them, chaos follows. Just remember that when you try to pull off another stunt like this.”

With one last look, you turned on your heel and stormed off, leaving Loki standing with a sly smile, no doubt enjoying the brief conflict. As you left the hall, you knew the next few days would be even more challenging. But one thing was certain—you wouldn’t let him derail the celebration, no matter how much he tried to push his agenda.

⠀

It had been a few days since the food fiasco, and you had hoped the worst was behind you. Yet, when it came to the holiday festivities, a new challenge emerged. You had been put in charge of the decorations, a task you had anticipated would bring joy, but you hadn’t expected the clash of cultures to be so pronounced.

The Asgardians, with their love of grandiose displays, had created decorations featuring intricate carvings, golden accents, and shimmering lights. The Midgardians, on the other hand, had opted for a more homey approach: a mix of soft pastels, tinsel, and small handcrafted ornaments. It was a cacophony of styles that left the hall looking more like a battlefield than a festive wonderland.

You stood in the center of it all, rubbing your temples in frustration. There were a few standout pieces—like the Runestone Ornaments, which you had suggested to add a touch of Asgardian culture. The beautifully carved runes for good luck and blessings were meant to bring harmony, but they were far too overpowering against the gentle hues of the Midgardian decorations. Some of the Asgardians had even insisted on sun-shaped ornaments to bring a sense of warmth and light, while others had complained that they clashed with the more subdued Christmas tree lights.

But the real problem didn’t come until you began unpacking a box of mistletoe. You had seen the tradition in Midgardian homes and thought it would add a charming touch to the festivities. After all, kissing under the mistletoe was a beloved tradition for good fortune, something light-hearted to bring the Asgardians and Midgardians together.

You hung the first mistletoe up near the doorframe, stepping back to admire your handiwork. That’s when it happened.

Asgardians walking by froze in their tracks, staring wide-eyed at the sprig of mistletoe hanging innocently overhead. A few of them stiffened, exchanging uncomfortable glances. The tall Asgardian warrior and member of the council, Thrain, quickly turned and muttered something under his breath, visibly distressed.

“What’s going on?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“You... My lady, you’re hanging that?” Thrain asked in a low voice, his expression grim. “You do know what it means, don’t you?”

You blinked. “The mistletoe? Yeah, it’s a tradition where I come from. You kiss under it for good luck and good cheer during the holidays.”

Thrain’s face turned pale, and a few of the others stepped back cautiously.

“Bad luck, Lady [Y/N],” Thrain said with a sigh. “That’s not just a decoration. It’s a symbol of misfortune in Asgard.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Misfortune? How can a sprig of mistletoe be a symbol of misfortune?”

Thrain glanced around as if to make sure no one else could overhear. After a moment, he leaned in closer to you, his voice lowering. “It’s a long story... but the mistletoe reminds us of an event that happened many centuries ago. It all goes back to a farce Prince Loki pulled on one of our greatest commanders, Balder the Brave.”

You furrowed your brow. “What happened?”

Thrain glanced around again and then began telling the story. “Oh, he’s quite the trickster. This one wasn’t as bad as some of his other schemes, but it certainly caused a ruckus. It happened during a festival many years ago.”

You frowned. “I don’t doubt this behavior coming from him, but I still fail to see how a simple prank would create a ruckus over some plant.”

“One evening, during the midwinter festival,” Thrain continued, “Balder, one of our finest commanders at the time, had just returned victorious from a long campaign. Everyone was celebrating in the Great Hall. Prince Loki, as always, couldn’t resist a chance for a little mischief.”

You frowned. “What did he do?”

“He enchanted a sprig of mistletoe, knowing that Balder, proud as he was, would never let anyone get the better of him. He tricked him into standing under the mistletoe, and as the tradition goes, whoever is beneath it must perform a challenge or take on a task.”

You tilted your head. “A challenge?”

Thrain nodded. “Yes. The challenge was a bit harmless—nothing like what you’d expect. But Loki, ever the trickster, made sure it was something unexpected. He enchanted the mistletoe so that whoever stood under it would be compelled to challenge the nearest person to a game of strength, wit, or skill.”

You laughed. “That sounds fun, not dangerous.”

Thrain smiled but his eyes darkened a little. “It was comical... until it got out of hand. Balder, in his pride, ended up challenging Hodr, his brother, to a contest of wit. But because of Loki’s enchantment, neither of them could back down. The game grew more and more intense—what started as a harmless wager soon escalated into a full-on competition, with the entire hall watching them argue over the silliest things. The game became a battle of pride and ego, and by the end, it nearly caused a rift and a blood battle between the two brothers.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A game of pride? Over mistletoe?”

“Exactly,” Thrain said, sighing. “It became a symbol of misplaced warfare rather than cheer. And since then, the mistletoe has been associated with that... heated contest. It’s seen as a bad omen for anyone who might fall into the trap of too much pride or too much competition.”

You frowned, considering the tale. “I didn’t know it had such a backstory. But I still think it’s a nice tradition. It’s about bringing people together, not creating rivalries.”

Thrain shook his head with a smile. “I suppose it’s not all bad. But many of us are cautious when it comes to mistletoe, considering its history.”

You smiled warmly, standing your ground. “I understand, but I’d like to carry on with the tradition. Maybe this time, it won’t be such a surprise. After all, it’s all in good fun. And, it’s a way to bring the Midgardian and Asgardian sides together.”

Before Thrain could say anything more, Loki casually strolled by, his ever-present grin spreading across his face as he overheard the conversation. He looked at you standing beneath the mistletoe, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Well, well,” Loki drawled, “looks like someone is trying to bring some of Midgard's cheer to Asgard, hmm?”

Thrain narrowed his eyes at Loki. “You’re the one to blame for this mess. You do remember what happened with the mistletoe and Balder, don’t you?”

You looked from Loki to Thrain. “So you don’t mind? I mean, you’re the one who started it.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, a sly grin creeping across his face. “I never said I minded. You’re more than welcome to give it a try, darling [Y/N]. I’ll just be here to watch the chaos unfold.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep the grin from spreading. “Don’t act so smug, Loki. I’m just trying to bring some cheer around here.”

Loki leaned in a bit closer, his voice low and playful. “Oh, I’m sure it’s all in good fun. But if you’re going to hang mistletoe, you must be prepared for the consequences. After all, I did start this tradition with a bit of mischief. Who’s to say what might happen next?”

You gave him a pointed look, not backing down. “I’m not scared of a little mischief, Loki. And if anyone’s at risk of causing chaos around here, it’s you, not me.”

Loki’s grin widened, and he took a step closer, leaning in just enough for his voice to drop further. “Ah, but you’re the one daring enough to carry on the tradition, aren’t you? I’m just here to watch... and perhaps enjoy the show.”

Thrain raised an eyebrow at the playful exchange, clearly amused but also a bit wary of what would happen next.

You shot Loki a playful smile. “Well, I hope you found a good spot because everything is going to go as smoothly as a baby’s bottom. Just wait and see.”

Loki chuckled, stepping back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ll be watching, indeed. But don’t be too disappointed if things don’t go exactly as planned.”

You didn’t back down. “We’ll see about that. And just so you know... I do like a bit of trickery in my holiday traditions.”

As Loki walked away, still laughing softly to himself, Thrain shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I see now... you’re not just abiding by mere traditions. You’re leading to misconduct.”

You grinned and hung the mistletoe with a flourish. “Maybe. But it’ll be fun. Besides, what’s a Christmas holiday without a little bit of naughtiness?”

With that, you carried on with your task, hanging the mistletoe, while Loki strolled off, still grinning as he watched from a distance.

⠀

As you walked briskly down the hall with a bundle of fairy lights in hand, you tried to shake off the growing frustration gnawing at you. It had been a long day filled with last-minute details, and the pressure was starting to mount. The grand hall was coming together with decorations now adorning every corner, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. When you passed by the table where Loki was supposed to be organizing the gifts for the prestigious guests, you nearly stumbled.

The sight before you made you stop dead in your tracks.

On the table laid haphazardly a collection of... unusual objects. You blinked, certain you had misread the situation.

The gifts were mismatched and meager, hardly fitting for the prestigious guests who would be attending the feast. They were strange—vastly different from anything you could imagine giving at such an important event.

There were intricately carved wooden figures, but they weren’t graceful or beautiful. One was a grotesque hybrid of a raven and a wolf, its features stretched and contorted as if trying too hard to be intimidating. Another was a stone, awkwardly shaped, with jagged edges and no real discernible design. You couldn’t tell if it was meant to represent a mountain, a fortress, or just... a rock.

Then, there were the vials—delicate glass tubes filled with what appeared to be tiny, glittering shards. There was a strange metallic sheen to them, as though they were meant to be potions. But it wasn’t something you could imagine anyone actually using. Certainly not the dignitaries they were expecting.

Your irritation bubbled up to the surface. You couldn’t imagine how these would be seen as a suitable gift, especially not for the dignitaries of Midgard.

“Loki?” you called, your voice a little sharper than you intended as you approached the table.

Loki glanced up from the strange wooden carving he was inspecting. His eyes lit up with that ever-present mischievous gleam, but his smile faltered when he saw the look on your face.

“Darling. I see you’ve found the gifts,” he said smoothly, clearly pleased with his work.

“Yes,” you said, your voice tight. “I have. And I’m... not sure what to make of them.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “What’s wrong with them?”

Your jaw tightened as you glanced from the wolf-raven hybrid to the glass vials, each one looking more out of place than the last. “Loki, these—these are not what I imagined. They’re... off-putting.” You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself but failing. “These are not appropriate for the guests we’re inviting. These are—” you pointed at the grotesque wooden figures “—bizarre.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression shifting from playful to defensive. “I don’t understand,” he said, his tone cold now. “What’s wrong with them? They’re authentic Asgardian craftsmanship. I thought the Midgardians would appreciate such unique offerings.”

“Unique?” you snapped, your frustration spilling over. “These aren’t unique, Loki. They’re strange. Midgardians have a different taste in gifts, and you’re not exactly showing the best of Asgard here. Look at this! This is not something you give a king or queen!”

You gestured toward the awkwardly shaped stone again. “A rock? Really? And these vials—” you picked one up, nearly dropping it when the tiny shards inside shimmered in the light “—what even is this?”

Loki’s expression remained calm, though there was a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “Well, perhaps you Midgardians are more accustomed to giving mundane things like jewels or soft fabrics. But these gifts are symbolic of our realm’s might and history.”

You let out an exasperated breath, rubbing your temples as your stress levels rose. “Loki, gifts are about more than just showing off. It’s about connecting with the person you’re giving it to, about meaning. You can’t just throw a bunch of random objects together and call it a gift. They need to reflect the people you're giving them to—something personal, something that makes them feel seen. Not just... intimidating displays of power!”

Loki’s lips curled into a smirk. “Are you telling me these aren’t worthy of Asgardian guests?” His voice was laced with mockery, but there was a hint of genuine confusion beneath it.

“Not worthy—appropriate,” you shot back, your patience wearing thin. “They need to fit the occasion! We need to think about the people we're giving them to, not just impress them with how ‘mighty’ Asgard is!”

Loki was silent for a moment, staring at the table of strange objects. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—was it doubt? No, it couldn’t be. But something about your words made him pause.

Finally, he exhaled slowly and raised an eyebrow. “So, what do you suggest I do? I am not accustomed to the delicate, personal gifts you Midgardians are so fond of.” He made air quotes around the word ‘personal’, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You stood your ground, your voice tight. “For starters? Hand-carved wooden jewelry boxes, a set of hand-blown glass ornaments, fine, elegant cloaks, scrolls with inscriptions of peace and goodwill, or something more symbolic. Something that shows you’ve thought about the person receiving it, not just what’s flashy and ‘impressive’.”

Loki leaned against the table, crossing his arms, his gaze unreadable. “Hm. So, you want me to take all these—” He motioned toward the array of oddities. “And turn them into something bland and safe?”

“I want you to make something thoughtful,” you retorted, your voice sharp. “I’m not asking for ‘bland’. I’m asking you to take a moment and actually think about the people who’ll receive these gifts. Just because they’re from Asgard doesn’t mean they’ll automatically be appreciated.” You were starting to feel more and more on edge, but you didn’t back down.

Loki studied you for a long moment, his lips curling into that familiar, teasing smile. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said with a sigh, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I shall reconsider my gift choices. But I must say, I do find your attitude a bit... aggressive for something as simple as gift-giving.”

You didn’t smile. You glared at him, your chest tight with both frustration and exhaustion. “Maybe it’s the pressure of this entire event that’s making me a little on edge, Loki,” you said, your voice laced with sarcasm. “You know, considering I’ve got a million things to handle, and your weird-ass gifts are not helping.”

Loki tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Ah, so you admit you’re a little... stressed?” he teased, his voice dropping an octave.

You forced a smile, your tone sharp but controlled. “Stressed? No, irritated, and you’re the reason why.”

Loki laughed softly, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Well, I shall do my best to improve the situation. As you so kindly suggested.”

You shot him a final glare before turning on your heel, muttering under your breath. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Loki, still grinning, watched you walk away, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’m sure you will, darling. You’ll see.”

⠀

The days were growing shorter, and the pressure was mounting. You had barely slept in the past few days, and you were starting to feel the weight of everything pressing down on your shoulders. As you stood in the hall, supervising the lights and sound systems for the grand celebration, you couldn’t help but feel the overwhelming anticipation in the air. The event was drawing closer, and there were still so many things to check off your list.

You were adjusting a speaker, ensuring it was positioned properly, when you couldn’t resist. The temptation to hear the music was too much, so you quickly branched the speaker and connected your device. A soft click and then—Christmas carols filled the air. You smiled, satisfied with the sound quality, as the cheerful tunes resonated through the room. But your satisfaction was short-lived.

The room grew suddenly quieter, and a few Asgardians who had been nearby shot you disapproving looks. One of them, a stern-faced woman, crossed her arms and approached with a disapproving glare.

"You... put this on?" she asked, her tone tight. "This is not how we celebrate our Yule. This... commercialized nonsense. What is this Midgardian tradition you’ve chosen to impose upon us?"

You blinked, confused. “What do you mean? It’s just Christmas carols... The song is about goodwill and joy. It’s part of the festivities."

The woman shook her head sharply, clearly upset. “Yule is a sacred time for Asgardians. We do not need the influence of Midgard’s festivals to ruin it.” She turned on her heel, walking away, muttering something about traditions being lost.

The sound of footsteps behind you caught your attention, and soon you were surrounded by a small crowd of disapproving Asgardians. Your stomach sank as their frowns deepened. The more they gathered, the more agitated they became, and soon voices were rising in frustration.

“This is not the way we do things here!” one of them exclaimed. “You can’t just commercialize our holiday!”

“I never agreed to this,” another voice chimed in. “This is a travesty to our sacred traditions!”

Your pulse quickened, and your mind raced, but the words felt like they were getting jumbled in your head. You tried to speak, but the frustration in the room was suffocating. The weight of their disapproval settled heavily on your chest, and you felt the first stirrings of panic. You had tried to make everything perfect, to blend the two worlds, but it seemed you had miscalculated, and now you were drowning in the pressure. You took a deep breath, but it felt shallow, and your hands trembled slightly. This was going wrong. Everything was going wrong. You were failing—again. You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"Enough."

Brunnhilde, with her ever-present calm and authority, stepped forward, her eyes scanning the crowd with quiet dominance. The Asgardians fell silent, and though they clearly weren’t pleased, they respected the king's presence. She turned to you, offering a small, sympathetic smile before addressing the group.

“We are guests in Midgard’s customs, and we are also here to celebrate Yule,” the Valkyrie said, her voice firm. “You are welcome to honor your traditions, but we must also respect the customs of the land we are in. Lady [Y/N] meant no disrespect, but there are many ways to celebrate, and it’s important to find balance.” She glanced over her shoulder. “If you have concerns, I am happy to discuss them with you. But for now, let us all move forward in the spirit of the festivities. There is no need to argue further.”

The Asgardians grumbled but eventually nodded, dispersing with a few sideways glares. Brunnhilde turned back to you, her expression softening.

“You’ve got a lot on your plate,” she said quietly, once the crowd had broken up. “And I know it’s not easy. But you can’t let every little mishap break you down. You’re doing the best you can.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of everything crash down on you again. “I just... I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Everything’s falling apart, Val. I thought this was going to go well, but—” You paused, your voice catching. “It feels like everything I try only makes things worse.”

The Valkyrie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not perfect, sweet cheeks. Of course you’re going to make mistakes. And you’re in charge of something that’s never been done before—of course, things will get complicated. But you can’t let it get to you like this. You have less than a week to go, and you need to pull yourself together. You can’t keep running to me for help every time something goes wrong. You’re more than capable of handling this.”

You gave her a strained smile, trying to hold back the frustration and exhaustion threatening to spill over. “I’ll do my best,” you said, though your voice was tired, worn. “I just want it to go well. For everyone.”

The Valkyrie's expression softened further, a knowing look in her eyes. “I know you do. You’ve put so much of yourself into this, and it won’t go unnoticed. But if you don’t take a moment to breathe and trust in your abilities, you’re going to burn out. So please, just... take a step back when you need to.”

You nodded, feeling the sincerity in her words, even if you weren’t entirely convinced. “I’ll... I’ll try. Thank you, Val’.”

She gave you a warm smile, her eyes full of understanding. “That’s all anyone can ask for. You’re doing great, even if you don’t feel it. Just don’t forget to keep breathing.”

With a final pat on the shoulder, she turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, a little more grounded. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You had a week left—you could do this. You had to.

It was supposed to be the highlight of the festivities. The Christmas tree. Everyone had been looking forward to it—the centerpiece of the entire celebration. You had spent weeks planning for it. You had found the perfect tree—a towering Asgardian pine, with thick branches that would hold the glowing lights and ornaments just right. It was going to be the perfect way to end all the planning, a moment of beauty and unity.

But when you arrived at the hall that morning, ready to supervise the decorating, you froze in horror. The spot where the tree had once stood was now empty.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you rushed through the room, looking everywhere, even behind the columns, but the tree was nowhere to be found. You moved faster, your panic growing.

“Where is it?” you muttered to yourself, voice rising with panic.

You turned the corner and saw a scene that made your stomach drop. The tree was... in pieces. Cut into sections, dragged across the floor, and stacked near the Yule log, ready to be burned. Your breath caught in your throat. The beautiful tree that had taken so long to pick, to care for, was now destined to be turned into kindling.

You stood frozen for a moment, staring at the pile of branches and needles.

You began to ask around, stopping the first Asgardian you saw. “What happened to the tree?” you demanded.

The person looked confused for a moment before answering, their voice careful. “Oh, the orders came down this morning. The tree was to be cut down and used for the Yule log. It’s been taken to be prepared for the fire tonight.”

Your blood ran cold. “What? No, that was the Christmas tree!” you said, your voice rising in disbelief. “Not for the Yule log. That was for decorating—”

Before you could finish, another Asgardian approached quickly, clearly out of breath. “The treasure hunt,” they said urgently. “It’s gone. It’s disappeared.”

The words hit you like a wave crashing over you. You couldn’t breathe. Your stomach twisted in horror, and your vision blurred as panic surged in your chest. You turned back toward the pile of cut branches and needles, but this time, you couldn’t stop the overwhelming flood of emotions.

“No! No, no, no…” you whispered, almost choking on the words. You couldn’t do this anymore. Your hands shook as you looked from the missing tree to the empty space where the treasure hunt should have been. You had worked so hard on every detail, every tradition. And now it was all falling apart.

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized just how much was slipping through your fingers. The pressure, the endless demands, the mistakes you couldn’t control. Everything you had worked for—everything you had poured your energy into—was unraveling before your eyes.

Without thinking, you screamed in frustration, the sound of it echoing in the empty hall.

“This is insane!” you shouted, your voice breaking. Your hands balled into fists at your sides as you fought to keep yourself from completely losing it.

As your outburst rang through the room, you realized a small crowd had gathered. They were watching you, exchanging glances. You could see the looks of confusion, even pity, but it was too much. Too much to bear.

You spun toward Loki, who had appeared in the doorway, clearly having heard the commotion. The sight of him was the last straw.

“You!” you yelled, your eyes blazing with fury. “This is your fault, isn’t it? You’re the one who gave the order to cut down the tree, aren't you?”

Loki didn’t flinch, his expression calm as ever, though his eyes narrowed slightly at your tone. “How kind of you to assume it originates from me,” he answered smoothly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s a tree. It wasn’t going to last anyway.”

“No!” you snapped, your voice cracking. “It was supposed to be the Christmas tree! This was supposed to be the centerpiece of the entire festival, and now it’s—gone! Everything is falling apart!”

Loki raised an eyebrow, clearly unamused by your outburst. “I’m not sure what you’re upset about, darling. It’s just a tree. We have plenty of others.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “And as for the treasure hunt... perhaps it’s just better you move on.”

The words felt like a slap to your already fragile state. You were barely holding yourself together. “You don’t get it! Do you even know about how much effort I’ve put into this?” you cried, your voice shaking with frustration. 

Before you could continue, the Asgardian who had spoken earlier came rushing in again, their face full of urgency. “The treasure hunt—there was another problem. The maps and clues were taken. We can’t find any of it!”

You stood there, your mind reeling, your entire body trembling as the weight of everything you had been carrying finally broke through. You were suffocating under the pressure.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, voice barely audible. Your chest heaved as tears began to burn at the corners of your eyes. The anger, the frustration, the helplessness—it all collided inside you, and you couldn’t keep it in anymore.

Loki, standing calmly in front of you, regarded you with a mixture of curiosity and mild irritation. He stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “You need to calm down, [Y/N]. It’s just a few mistakes. We’ll fix it.”

“You don’t get it!” you shouted at him, your voice cracking with emotion. “You’re the one who screwed this all up!” You were shaking now, your entire body trembling from the storm of feelings threatening to consume you. “I’ve been working so hard to make this perfect, and you—you just came in and ruined everything!”

Loki’s calm demeanor didn’t change, though there was a flash of something like annoyance in his eyes. “Enough,” he said simply. “You need a break.”

Before you could respond, Loki encased one of your arms with his hand, and suddenly, the world around you disappeared in a rush of swirling light. The noise, the chaos, the pressure—all of it vanished as you were transported far from the hall, away from the mess.

Thor, who had just returned from handing out the invitations, stepped into the hall, ready to greet the others and take in the progress. His cheerful mood faltered however when he saw the tension in the air. Brunnhilde stepped in front of him quickly, her presence a calming force.

“Thor,” she said softly, “don’t worry. We’ll take care of it. The tree and the treasure hunt will be set right.”

Thor frowned but nodded slowly, trusting her judgment. “What happened?”

“Leave it to me,” She replied with a reassuring smile. “It’s not as bad as it seems. Just give us a little time, and everything will be in order.”

Thor sighed, his face softening. “Alright. Just... make sure everything is alright.”

The valkyrie gave him a firm nod. “It’ll be fine. We’ll handle it.”

⠀

The sudden rush of magic had barely settled when your power surged inside you, raw and untamed. Your emotions, a swirling storm of anger, frustration, and fear, acted like a catalyst, and without warning, your armor materialized around you—jagged and radiant, the energy radiating from you like a tempest.

The environment was eerily quiet, isolated from the hustle of the main celebration preparations. The corner they were in was a secluded stretch of rocky outcrop nestled between tall, jagged trees that seemed to protect the area from view. The ground beneath them was soft with moss and small, scattered leaves. A few low stone walls were partly overgrown with ivy, adding to the sense that this was an untouched space, perfect for moments away from the prying eyes of others.

Your frustration boiled over. “You!” you screamed, pointing an accusing finger at Loki. “This is your fault!” Your voice was raw with rage, and the air around them crackled with your energy as you lunged at him.

Loki blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sudden eruption of power. He barely had time to react before you lunged at him, your armor glowing with destructive energy. “I told you to take it seriously!” you yelled, your voice hoarse, as you swung an energy-charged fist toward him.

Loki, still calm despite your fury, sidestepped the attack easily, but he wasn’t expecting the ferocity of your movements. “For Norn’s sake, calm down,” he exclaimed, dodging another strike, his voice measured. “You’re losing it!”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” you spat, your energy only intensifying. You launched yourself at him again, this time in a flurry of punches and energy blasts that tore through the air. Each time Loki parried, it only made you angrier, and you screamed in frustration, the energy from your armor flaring brighter. The surrounding trees shuddered in response to the intensity.

Loki’s face hardened with determination as he blocked your energy with his seiðr, deflecting your blows. “You need to stop this,” he said, barely dodging another attack. His voice tinged with something more serious than usual. “I know you’re angry, but this won’t solve anything.”

“I don’t care!” you shouted, charging forward again, your movements fueled by raw, uncontrolled power. Each punch you threw left ripples in the air, crackling with auroral energy. The moss beneath their feet quivered under the force, and distant birds flew away in alarm.

Loki, his expression tightening, continued to dodge your strikes, his calm demeanor beginning to crack. “You don’t need to do this. Control yourself, you’re letting your emotions take over.”

“Everything is falling apart!” you yelled back, your eyes blazing with power. “I worked so hard for this and it’s all crumbling! I don’t even know what to do anymore!”

The wind picked up around them, swirling the fallen leaves into a frenzy. Loki's stance grew more defensive, his magic weaving through the air to deflect your blows. “I understand that, but lashing out won’t make it better,” he countered, his eyes flashing as his powers met yours in the charged atmosphere. “Destroying yourself over this won’t help either.”

You recoiled slightly, eyes wild, but there was a flash of uncertainty in them now. Another blast of energy shot from your hands, missing Loki only by a hair. But this time, the force of your attack wasn’t matched by the fury you had before. The anger was still there, but it was beginning to dissipate, replaced by sheer exhaustion.

Your attacks slowed, and you found yourself dropping to your knees, the heavy weight of your emotions finally catching up to you. You were gasping for breath, your chest heaving. The power surrounding you flickered and began to fade as your energy drained. Your armor seemed to collapse in on itself, leaving only your trembling form.

You pulled your knees to your chest, your body curled inwards as your arms wrapped around yourself. Tears started to fall, hot and fast, as everything you had been bottling up poured out in sobs. You didn’t even try to stop them. You felt broken, like all the pressure and expectations had crushed you, and there was nothing left but this overwhelming, suffocating exhaustion.

Loki watched silently, his expression softening as he took in the sight of you. You had been so strong, so determined, and now you were crumpled in front of him, vulnerable in a way he had rarely seen before.

“Darling,” he said softly, his voice lacking its usual edge. He took a step forward, his tone gentler than it had been all day. “I didn’t want you to get to this point. But you’re not alone. You never have to be alone in this.”

You sniffled, your voice breaking as you spoke through your tears. “Shut up. I tried so hard… But—But nothing is going right and—and I can’t keep pretending like I’ve got everything under control.”

You sat quietly, your head resting on your knees as the last remnants of your armor faded away. The hum of the distant festivities was a dull echo compared to the storm of emotions that had overwhelmed you moments ago. Loki remained beside you, his posture relaxed but his eyes never leaving you, watching you carefully as if gauging when to speak.

The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if they were both taking a breath, letting the tension of the moment settle before moving forward.

Finally, Loki shifted slightly, lowering himself to sit beside you. He rested his elbows on his knees, his gaze softening as he looked at you, his usual playful demeanor absent for once.

“You know,” he began softly, his voice a comforting murmur in the quiet space between them, “I’ve seen many things in my time—more than most can fathom. But there is one thing about Yule that has always amused me.”

You glanced up at him, the exhaustion in your eyes still clear, but there was a small flicker of curiosity and apprehension in them as you met his gaze. Loki smiled faintly, leaning back slightly to get more comfortable. He seemed to take a breath before he began, his tone easing into something reminiscent of a tale he had long since retold to himself.

“When I was younger, and Asgard still celebrated Yule in its true, ancient form, there was a tradition... one that many might call ‘foolish’ now,” he began, a glint of mischief creeping into his voice. “We used to have a grand competition every year—a Yule feast, yes, but with a twist. It wasn’t just about who could decorate the best or bring the finest gifts. No, it was about who could make the best ‘Yule pudding.’”

You looked at him with a raised brow, unimpressed. “Yule pudding?”

Loki nodded, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he continued. “Yes. It was an Asgardian delicacy, made from all sorts of strange and exotic ingredients—some of which were better left unspoken of. The twist, however, was that everyone’s pudding had to be kept a secret until the feast began. The idea was that the other competitors would be surprised, even horrified, by what they found in their bowls.” He gave you a playful, knowing look. “And trust me, some of the ingredients were... less than appealing.”

You slightly tilted your head up, your curiosity piqued despite yourself. “So... did anyone actually win?”

“Oh, yes,” Loki chuckled, his eyes lighting up with a familiar mischief that was comforting, even in the current tense atmosphere. “But not in the way you’d expect. The prize was a crown, yes, but the true victory came from seeing the faces of the other competitors. You know, nothing is more satisfying than watching the mightiest warriors of Asgard choke down something so vile... all for the sake of tradition.”

You couldn’t help but let out a scoff at the image he painted, the tension in your shoulders easing for the first time that evening. “I can’t believe you used to get people to eat that stuff,” you said, shaking your head, though the corners of your lips twitched into a small smile.

Loki’s grin softened at the sound of your laughter, and he leaned a little closer to you, resting his arm across his knee. “I may have been a bit of a... troublemaker,” he said with a small shrug. “But the real lesson was the spirit of Yule itself—not in the feasts or the gifts, but in the laughter and joy that followed. Even in the worst moments, there is light to be found.” He glanced at you, his voice dropping to a quieter, more serious tone. “Even now, during times like this. What matters is not how perfect everything is, but how we come together, despite it all.”

You stared at him for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in, but it was the warm look in his eyes that made your heart settle. It was an understanding you hadn’t expected, and for the first time since the pressure began to mount, you felt a little less alone in your frustration.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, your breath steadying. The soft comfort of his presence, the closeness, and the warmth of his energy settled the lingering chaos inside you.

Loki’s posture stiffened for a moment, surprised, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he allowed himself a small smile, his fingers lightly brushing against your forearm as if offering silent reassurance. “Better?”

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment as you nodded, allowing yourself to rest in the calm space he’d created. “Yeah. Thank you, Mischief.” You paused, your voice quieter. “I’m still angry with you, though.”

He chuckled, though there was an apologetic undertone in his laughter. “I know,” he replied softly, his hand finding hers, the contact warm and comforting. “And… I apologize. I should have thought more carefully about how things would turn out, but as you know, I never could resist pushing your buttons.”

You gave a half-hearted smile, your eyes still closed as you rested your head against his shoulder. “Yeah, I noticed that alright. I guess I’ll have to be more careful around you in the future when it comes to important duty stuff.”

“I’ll consider this a compliment,” he said with a sly smirk, though the softness in his tone betrayed his true feelings. “I never did well with being ignored.”

You let out a small laugh, your shoulders relaxing fully now. The tension you’d carried for so long seemed to ease with each word he spoke, each breath he took. “I could’ve never have guessed,” you said teasingly, lifting your head to glance at him. Your gaze softened as you looked into his eyes. “But truly, thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

Loki’s lips curled into a small, sly smile as he looked at you. “I suppose even I, the magnificent and benevolent god that I am, cannot resist the allure of your stubbornness,” he said with a mockingly grandiose tone.

You stayed seated, the world around you hushed, save for the gentle rustling of the snow and the occasional sound of distant footsteps. The snow blanketed everything in serene stillness, creating a peaceful atmosphere that made it feel as though you were in a world of your own, far removed from the stress of the impending festivities.

Loki, still holding your hand without realizing it, gently rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand. The touch was comforting, soothing in its quiet rhythm, as if trying to calm the lingering tension in both of you. You didn’t speak for a while, content in the peacefulness of the moment.

You sat there, side by side, the stillness of the world around you filling the space between you with an unspoken connection. The flakes of snow continued to drift down around you, their quiet dance a gentle reminder of the calm you shared.

You glanced at him, your heart beating a little faster than usual. You weren’t sure if it was the cold, or something else, but your cheeks felt warmer, and when you looked at Loki, he seemed to be feeling the same quiet shift between you. Your fingers remained intertwined, a small, unnoticed act of closeness that neither of you questioned.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both content in each other's company as the world around you continued to fall into the winter stillness. The silence felt comfortable now, and neither of you was in a hurry to leave it.

As the minutes passed, you felt the cold slowly creeping back into your bones, a shiver running through you. You glanced at Loki and saw that his eyes had softened, watching you carefully. He felt it too, the quiet coldness in the air.

Loki, still with his thumb brushing against the back of your hand, looked at you for a moment before speaking again. “I believe we’ve overstayed our welcome here. Let’s get you back before someone else decides to accidentally destroy something.”

You let out a small laugh, this time free of the weight you’d carried for so long. You felt lighter—easier. You stood up and offered him your hand, which he took with an ease that made the whole moment feel just right. “Can’t wait to see what other problem awaits us,” you answered sarcastically, a small smile on your lips.

You had said "us"—a small word, but one that meant a lot in this moment. The connection between you, the quiet bond you shared, felt even more solid in the simplicity of it.

When you finally stood, neither of you noticed how your hands were still clasped together. It was only when you began walking back toward the hall that the warmth of your intertwined hands made you realize just how natural it felt. Neither of you spoke of it, but both knew that something had shifted. Neither of you knew if your cheeks were flushed from the cold, or from something else entirely, but neither of you minded.

The sound of your footsteps blended with the soft echo of the falling snow as you made your way back, the world around you still and serene, leaving you alone in your thoughts and the shared comfort of each other's presence.

The first thing you noticed upon waking the next morning was the soft, golden light spilling through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. The warmth was a welcome contrast to the cool air of the hall you’d fallen asleep in, and you slowly stretched, your body sore from the events of the previous day. Your mind was still clouded with memories of the chaos—broken decorations, missing trees, disorganized gifts. A faint sense of panic clawed at your chest, but as you sat up, you realized the quiet hum of activity had returned to the castle.

You wiped your face with the back of your hand, trying to shake off the weight of the previous day’s exhaustion. It was hard to believe it had all come to a head the night before—one misstep after another, and yet, here you were, still alive and breathing.

When you pushed yourself up from the bed and stepped into the hallway, you found it quieter than usual. The usual hustle and bustle of the Yule preparations had faded into the background. Your feet carried you instinctively toward the great hall, but when you stepped inside, your breath caught in your throat. The hall had transformed overnight.

Where there had been scattered remnants of undone decorations and unfinished projects, now there were beautifully decorated trees, glowing with twinkling lights. The large, grand Yule tree, full of shimmering baubles and sparkling tinsel, stood proudly near the center of the hall, towering over the tables. Garlands of holly and ivy draped across every surface, and the sweet smell of freshly baked bread and roasting meats filled the air.

But despite the stunning transformation, your heart still raced. You looked around with wide eyes, trying to take in everything, but it only seemed to make your nerves flare up.

“Where is everything?” you muttered under your breath, mostly to yourself, but the words were tinged with a hint of anxiety. Had they truly fixed everything? The tree looked perfect—tall, regal, and sturdy—but was it the right one? You had been so frantic, you hadn’t even stopped to look at it properly.

Your footsteps quickened, and you moved to the table where the feast had been laid out. Platters of food, colorful and hearty, were stacked in layers of decadent variety. The bread, the pastries, the meats… everything looked impeccable. Had they managed to get everything right? What if something had been missed?

“[Y/N],” came Valkyrie’s voice, drawing your attention. You looked up to see her walking toward you with a teasing grin. “Good morning. I see you’re already making your rounds.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to appear calm as you turned toward her. “I just—I just want to make sure everything’s in order,” you said, though your tone was strained. “The tree... it’s the right one, isn’t it? And the feast—did we get everything? We can’t afford to make any more mistakes.”

The Valkyrie arched a brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’ve got a lot of fretting to do, don’t you? You need to take a break. Everything is done. The tree is perfect, the decorations are all set, and the feast... well, the Asgardian delicacies are sure to make an impression. Relax.”

You hesitated, eyes scanning the room again, but the weight of the last few days, added to your constant sense of responsibility, didn’t allow you to settle so easily. “But what about the gifts? Did Loki handle everything? And the—the treasure hunt?”

Brunnhilde gave a small chuckle. “Oh, the treasure hunt is a... success,” she said, the way she said it making you feel slightly apprehensive. “Though, I must admit, I didn’t expect the children to raid the chocolate stash as thoroughly as they did. I’m still trying to figure out how the entire chest went missing, but they found the treasure in the end, and I think that’s what matters.”

“Wait, the chocolates—” you froze, then sighed. “Of course. Of course, they ate it all.”

She smirked. “At least they found it,” she added with a shrug. “But that’s all handled. You’ve done your part. Now, you can rest.”

“I can’t rest,” you muttered, glancing over at the corner of the hall where a few last-minute touches were still needed. “There’s still the lights to check, and the candles—what if they’re uneven? What if the guests don’t like the decorations?”

The Valkyrie watched you for a moment, her expression softening slightly. She walked over and placed a hand on your shoulder, her voice becoming more serious. “Listen to me, sweet cheeks. You’ve been working nonstop for days. Everything is taken care of. It’s all ready. All that’s left for you to do is enjoy it.”

Your face flushed with embarrassment. You knew you were overthinking everything, but it was hard to shake off the anxiety that had built up during the previous days. You had put so much pressure on yourself, and the idea of something going wrong—again—made your stomach twist.

But Brunnhilde was right. Everything was perfect. You had helped put it all together, and now all you had to do was step back and enjoy it. No more fretting.

With a deep sigh, you finally nodded. “You’re right. I just... I can’t help it.” You rubbed your temples. “I’ll try to rest for a bit.”

She grinned and gave you a playful shove toward the seating area. “Good. Now go take a break. Everything is in order. We’ve got this.”

Your steps slowed, and you made your way to the chairs near the fireplace, feeling lighter with each step. It was hard to let go of the responsibility, but in that quiet moment, with everything taken care of, you could finally breathe a little easier.

As you sank into the warmth of the chair and allowed yourself to close your eyes for just a moment, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. The rest of the day would be filled with festivities, joy, and laughter. The Yule festival was coming soon. And this time, you could enjoy it without the weight of worry on your shoulders.

⠀

The royal library had been deemed a perfect spot for the traditional storytelling to take place. The shelves lined with ancient tomes and scrolls seemed to add an air of mystique to the already enchanting setting. Children crowded around Loki, sitting cross-legged on the floor, their eyes wide with curiosity. Even a few of the adults had gathered, drawn in by the sheer magnetism of his presence.

You stood near the doorway, watching quietly from the sidelines. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight before you—Loki, the formidable god of mischief, captivating the room with his magic. His voice was deep and resonant, laced with humor, as he began weaving his tale.

“And so, there I was,” he began, gesturing dramatically with one hand, “standing atop the great peak of Jotunheim, facing down an entire army of giants. The cold bit at my skin, but did I flinch?” He paused, his lips curling into a playful grin. “Of course not. I am Loki, the trickster god, the one who—”

The children erupted in giggles, and Loki’s grin widened. With a snap of his fingers, the air around him shimmered with a faint green glow. He conjured an illusion of a massive ice giant, towering above the group, its icy form glowing ominously. The kids gasped in awe, eyes glued to the spectacle.

“Fear not, young ones!” Loki’s voice boomed as he summoned another flick of magic, and the giant began to shrink. “I wasn’t about to let a little thing like that scare me. With one swift move, I tricked them into thinking they’d already won. I am a god, after all.”

As he spoke, his illusions shifted with every word—mighty warriors battling against beasts, massive serpents coiling around towering castles, and fire-breathing dragons soaring across the sky. The magic seemed to come alive with every flick of his wrist, each new image more mesmerizing than the last.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. It wasn’t just the magic—though it was impressive—it was the way Loki moved, the way he commanded the room. There was something about him in these moments, his charm and wit flowing effortlessly, drawing even the adults in.

His eyes met yours for a fleeting second as he continued his tale, and you felt your heart skip a beat. There was something oddly endearing about watching him perform for the children. He was so... alive. His usual smirk softened in these moments, replaced by a deep sense of contentment as he captivated his audience.

“You know, the trick to deceiving giants,” Loki continued, his voice lowering conspiratorially as the children leaned in closer, “is not in strength, but in the art of persuasion. They believed me when I said the sun had risen on their kingdom. But I knew better. The sun? It wasn’t even close to rising.” He chuckled darkly. “I’ll spare you the details of the real trick, but let’s just say... they learned to always listen to Loki.”

A few of the children laughed and clapped, clearly entranced by the story, while the adults looked on with amused smiles. You couldn’t help but smile fondly at him from your position by the doorway, the warmth of the moment settling in your chest.

“That was quite the tale,” Brunnhilde said, stepping up behind you with a playful grin. “I didn’t realize you were so captivated by Loki’s antics.”

You turned quickly, caught off guard by her teasing. “What?” you asked, your cheeks heating slightly as you tried to hide the warmth spreading through your chest. “I’m just... enjoying the story.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the situation. “Mm-hmm, enjoying it quite a lot, I see. You know, if you’re really into the storytelling, you could always go sit on Loki’s lap, like the Midgardian children do with Santa. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” She smirked, nudging you playfully.

You flushed, rolling your eyes as you tried to cover up your flustered state. “I’m fine where I am, thank you,” you said, though your gaze lingered on Loki at the center of the room. Your heart fluttered a little as you watched him, and you quickly turned away to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks.

As the story continued, Loki’s hands wove through the air, creating glowing, animated figures with his seiðr. He made the children laugh, gasp, and even squeal with excitement as dragons flew overhead and kingdoms were overthrown. Each tale he told seemed to be tailored to his young audience, but you couldn’t help but notice how the adults—yourself included—were just as mesmerized by him.

You shifted slightly, and your eyes caught on one of the floating illusions—a massive serpent coiling around a castle tower. For a moment, you thought it looked almost... real. You blinked and glanced at Loki, noticing the slight tilt of his head as he continued to spin his tale.

Your heart skipped again.

“So,” The Valkyrie said, her voice dropping to a low whisper. “What do you think? Still not interested in the man behind the magic?”

You shot her an incredulous look. “What are you talking about?” you hissed under your breath. “I told you, I’m just here for the storytelling.”

“Sure you are,” she teased, nudging you with her elbow.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, but deep down, you felt a quiet warmth in your chest. Brunnhilde's teasing aside, there was something undeniable about the way Loki commanded the room. You were captivated, and you didn’t think there was any shame in admitting it.

Finally, after several more stories, Loki ended his performance with a dramatic flourish. The children clapped, their cheers echoing through the grand library.

“At ease,” he said, bowing slightly, “I hope you all enjoyed the tale. It’s not every day you get to hear the true version of events, after all.” He gave the children a wink before turning toward the adults. “Now, my dear friends, it’s time to take a break and prepare for the real festivities to begin.”

You stepped back as Loki turned toward you, still basking in the glow of the applause. He caught your eye, and you couldn’t help but smile fondly. He seemed so at ease in his element—charming, playful, and utterly captivating.

The Valkyrie’s teasing voice broke through your thoughts again. “Looks like you’ve got a fan club to be a part of,” she whispered with a sly grin.

You could only chuckle, shaking your head. "Oh, hush."

But as Loki’s gaze met yours once more, you felt something stir in your chest—a connection you couldn’t quite put into words. For all his mischief and tricks, something was endearing about the way he made the world around him brighter, even if it was just for a moment.

⠀

The grand hall was alive with the soft hum of conversation and laughter, but amid the lively atmosphere, you found yourself quietly drawn toward the Yule tree. Its towering branches were adorned with delicate glass ornaments, shimmering ribbons, and lights that cast a soft, magical glow throughout the room. You stood before it, mesmerized by the beauty of it all.

But as you stepped closer, your attention was caught by something unexpected. Among the glittering baubles and tinsel were small, folded papers tied with delicate strings, hanging just like ornaments. At first, you thought they were part of the decorations, but as you leaned in to examine them, you realized they were letters—each one carefully placed with intention. Curiosity piqued, you gently plucked one from the tree and unfolded it.

The first letter was simple, the handwriting of a child: I wish for a pet dragon, even if it’s small. You smiled softly, your heartwarming at the innocent wish. You moved to the next one, your fingers tracing the fragile paper. I wish for snow to never stop falling, so I can play forever. Each note seemed to carry with it a small, pure hope, a wish that felt timeless and untouched by the complications of the world.

You let out a quiet laugh, glancing at another letter. I wish for more sweets at the feast tomorrow. That one made you grin wider—something about it felt so wonderfully human, so relatable in its simplicity.

“You seem to be enjoying those.” The voice startled you, and you turned to find Loki standing just behind you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. There was a certain softness to his gaze as he watched you, a subtle pride that he didn’t always show.

You raised an eyebrow, still holding the letter in your hand. “What is this? Some sort of... Yule tree tradition I wasn’t aware of?”

Loki’s expression shifted, and he looked almost bashful for a moment. “It’s new. After the storytelling, I thought it might be a good idea for the children to write down their wishes. I gave them the task of hanging them on the tree, hoping the magic of the season might make them come true.”

You blinked, surprised. “You—did you get the children to do this?” You shook your head, your tone softening as you looked at him in a way you hadn’t before. “That’s... a really thoughtful gesture, Loki.”

“I may have a flair for splendor,” Loki admitted with a small shrug, his voice laced with both humility and pride, “but even I can recognize the value of sincerity. Not everything must be a grand display of power.” He gestured toward the tree, his gaze lingering on the little letters. “Their wishes deserved more than a fleeting moment. Why not bind them to the spirit of Yule? A reminder that even the smallest dreams can take root and grow into something magnificent.”

You looked back at the tree, your heart feeling full as you saw the wishes swaying gently in the breeze. For a brief moment, the disarray of the previous days, the stress, and all the uncertainty melted away. It felt peaceful, in a way you hadn’t expected. The simplicity of the wishes, the hope behind them, made everything feel just a little bit more magical.

“You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?” you asked softly, the weight of your words more sincere than you’d meant. “I didn’t expect this side of you. You’re a bit of a softy in disguise.”

Loki smirked, his eyes glinting with a playfulness that only he could pull off, though a hint of warmth remained in his tone. "I am many things, but I would hardly call myself soft. My genius is unrivaled, my charm is clearly undeniable, but I am far from sentimental."

He paused, the playfulness momentarily fading as he regarded you with a softer look. "But even the most enigmatic of gods can have their... moments," he added quietly, his gaze lingering on you before quickly flashing back to his usual impish grin. "Don’t tell anyone, though. It would ruin my reputation."

You tilted your head, your gaze softening as you considered his words. There was something in the way he spoke, something unguarded that made you pause. You gave him a small, knowing smile, your tone teasing but with an underlying sincerity. "I guess you do have your moments of wisdom, after all," you said, your voice warm. "I always thought you were all about grandeur and spectacle, but I guess even someone like you knows the power of the little things."

You leaned in just slightly, your smile still in place, but there was a flicker of curiosity in your eyes. "It’s funny," you mused, your words soft, "I didn’t expect this side of you. I guess we all have our layers, don’t we?"

Loki smiled, a touch of pride in his eyes, but it was a softer, more genuine pride than you were used to. “You’d be surprised how much thought I put into things sometimes.” His voice lowered a little, almost as though he was sharing something personal. “Not everything has to be grand or spectacular to matter. Sometimes, it’s the simple gestures that can mean the most.”

You turned back to the tree, your fingers lightly brushing the edges of the next letter you picked. “This is really special, Loki.” Your voice was quieter now, almost reverent as you took in the sight of all the letters hanging on the tree. “You’ve given them something to look forward to and to believe in.”

Loki stepped closer, his eyes never leaving the tree. “I suppose I’ve learned a few things over the years. Not everything has to be perfect for it to be meaningful.”

As you pulled away from the tree, your eyes lingered on the sparkling ornaments for just a moment longer. You turned to Loki, who was still standing nearby, his hands lightly brushing the branches as if contemplating something deeper. There was a warmth in your chest, a quiet understanding of the thought and care that had gone into making this Yule truly special.

"Thank you," you said softly, your voice full of sincerity. "I don’t think I ever would’ve thought of this. It’s perfect."

Loki glanced at you, his gaze softening. Before he could respond, you stood up on your tiptoes and, without thinking, placed a quick, affectionate kiss on his cheek. His eyes widened in surprise, the briefest of blushes flickering across his cheeks before he masked it with his usual playful composure.

"If I’d known something as small as this would grant me such a delicacy, I would’ve done it sooner," he teased, his voice still carrying the usual mischievous undertone, though there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something a little warmer, a little softer.

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile as you stepped back, your face a little flushed. "Don’t push your luck, Mischief," you replied, the hint of a challenge in your tone.

He chuckled, raising a brow. "Oh, I never push, darling. I simply nudge… gently," he added with his signature smirk returning, as if he hadn’t just been caught a bit off guard by the unexpected tenderness.

As you shared that moment, something unspoken passed between you—an understanding, a shift in the air, but nothing too bold. Yet, both of your hearts seemed to beat a little faster, and the space between you felt just a little more charged than before.

The royal courtyard had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Strings of golden lights intertwined with frosted branches, casting a warm glow across the snow-covered ground. A towering evergreen stood at the center, adorned with shimmering ornaments and glowing runes that pulsed faintly with magic. Tables laden with Asgardian delicacies lined the perimeter, and a faint melody floated through the air, played by an ensemble of musicians stationed near the tree.

As the first portal shimmered open, Jane Foster stepped through, pulling her coat tighter against the chill. Her expression lit up at the sight of Thor, who bounded over with his usual exuberance. “Jane!” he called, his voice booming even in the open air. “At last! Welcome to Asgard’s Yule celebration!”

“Thor,” Jane laughed as he enveloped her in a bear hug. “You’re going to squash me before I even get to enjoy the festivities.”

Before she could say more, another portal opened with a soft hum, revealing a group of familiar faces. Tony Stark was the first to step out, his eyes immediately scanning the scene. “Interesting,” he drawled, tugging his scarf tighter. “Looks like someone’s been raiding the Hallmark aisle. Did you do this, Reindeer Games?”

Loki, who had been leaning casually against one of the pillars at the edge of the courtyard, arched an eyebrow. “Ah, Tin Man,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “I see your sense of fashion is as middling as ever. And no, I don’t sully my talents with mere decorations.”

“Sure you don’t,” Tony shot back, already making his way toward one of the tables. “But I’ll bet you were in charge of the drinks. Let’s see if they’re as pretentious as you are.”

Steve Rogers stepped through the portal next, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. He took a moment to take in the scene, a small smile tugging at his lips. “This is… something alright,” he said quietly.

Thor clapped him on the back with enough force to make him stagger slightly. “Is it not magnificent? Tonight, my friends, we celebrate in true Asgardian style! Food, drink, and merriment for all!”

Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton followed close behind, their sharp eyes surveying the courtyard. “This is cozy,” Natasha remarked dryly. Her gaze flicked to Loki. “I’m surprised you’re not sulking in a corner somewhere or plotting mischief.”

“I’m afraid I must disappoint you, Agent Romanoff,” Loki replied smoothly, his smirk just this side of smug. “My mischief is already in motion.”

You, who had been overseeing the final touches on the feast, approached the group with a welcoming smile. “Glad you all could make it, guys,” you said, your breath fogging slightly in the cold air. “I wasn’t sure if Asgardian traditions would be your thing.”

“Oh, traditions are fine, Skittles,” Tony replied, already holding a goblet of mead he’d managed to acquire. “But I’m here for the food. And maybe to see if Frosty over there pulls off anything entertaining.”

Bruce Banner shuffled over, his smile soft and unassuming. “Thanks for having us,” he said. “It’s… nice to get a break from everything.”

As the group began to mingle, the dynamics unfolded naturally. Jane and Bruce struck up a conversation about the science behind the glowing runes on the tree, with Thor chiming in enthusiastically about the enchantments. Natasha and Clint drifted toward the weapons display near the courtyard’s edge, their interest piqued by the craftsmanship.

Tony, meanwhile, found himself circling back to Loki. “So, puny god,” he began, taking a sip of his drink. “What’s the over-under on you pulling some kind of elaborate prank tonight?”

Loki’s lips curled into a slow, deliberate smirk. “Stark, if I were to indulge in such trivialities, you would not see them coming. But I do hope you enjoy yourself tonight. I’d hate for you to feel… out of place.”

You, who had been listening from a few steps away, couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Don’t encourage him, Tony. He doesn’t need the help.”

“Oh, I’m not encouraging him, Tinkerbell,” Tony replied with a grin. “I’m just testing his limits.”

Steve, who had been quietly observing, walked over to Thor and gestured toward the massive Yule log near the tree. “So… what’s the story with that?”

Thor grinned broadly. “Ah, the Yule log! Its lighting marks the official start of the festivities. A sacred moment, my friend. You’ll see soon enough!”

Nearby, Jane sidled up to you, her tone curious. “This is your first Yule celebration, right? How are you holding up?”

You smiled, glancing toward Loki, who was now demonstrating his seiðr for a small group of curious onlookers. The green-hued magic danced in the air, forming intricate shapes that captivated everyone watching. “It’s overwhelming,” you admitted. “But it’s magical. I can see why this means so much to everyone.”

Jane followed your gaze, then smirked knowingly. “And I’m sure a certain dark prince has nothing to do with that sentiment?”

Before you could reply, Brunnhilde appeared, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Oh, she’s smitten, no doubt about it. But don’t worry, sweet cheeks, I’m sure brooding stuff over there will find some way to complicate things before the night’s over.”

“Val’,” you groaned, your cheeks warming.

“What?” she replied with a grin, lifting her goblet. “It’s Yule. A little mischief and romance are practically mandatory.”

The playful banter dissolved into laughter, and soon the courtyard was alive with the sound of merriment as more guests continued to arrive, setting the stage for a celebration no one would forget.

⠀

Soon enough, the air in the courtyard hummed with anticipation as the gathering crowd turned toward the massive Yule log stationed near the towering evergreen tree. The log, carved with intricate patterns of Norse runes and adorned with garlands of evergreen and holly, rested on an iron stand at the heart of the celebration.

Thor stood before it, Stormbreaker gripped tightly in his hand, his broad figure illuminated by the golden glow of the surrounding lights. The faint crackle of his lightning echoed in the air, a promise of the power about to be unleashed. Beside him stood Brunnhilde, her presence commanding as ever, a goblet in one hand and her other resting on the pommel of her sword.

The chatter of the crowd quieted as Brunnhilde raised her hand, signaling the beginning of the tradition. She stepped forward, her voice carrying with a regal authority that silenced even the most boisterous of guests.

“Friends, family, and honored guests,” she began, her tone strong yet warm, “we gather here tonight, under the light of the Yule tree and the vast expanse of the stars, to celebrate the turning of the season and the bonds we share. Yule is not merely a time of merriment—it is a time to reflect, to honor the past, and to look toward the future with hope.”

She raised her goblet slightly, her eyes sweeping across the crowd. “Tonight, as we light the Yule log, we kindle the fire of community, resilience, and renewal. Let this flame burn bright, a beacon in the dark, reminding us of the strength we find in each other. Let it mark the start of a celebration worthy of Asgard’s legacy.”

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, raising their own goblets in response. Brunnhilde stepped aside with a small, satisfied smirk, gesturing toward Thor.

“Now, who better to light the way than the God of Thunder himself?” she added, her tone laced with humor.

Thor grinned broadly, stepping forward with his usual swagger. He lifted Stormbreaker high, and the skies above seemed to darken just slightly, as though the stars themselves leaned in to watch.

“Let us welcome the light, and may it guide us through this season of joy!” He bellowed, his voice resonating through the courtyard.

With a sharp crackle, bolts of lightning arced from the axe, striking the Yule log with an explosive burst of light. The log ignited instantly, flames leaping to life and casting a warm, golden glow over the crowd. The fire danced and flickered, its light reflected in the awestruck faces of everyone present.

The warmth of the fire spread through the courtyard, both physically and metaphorically, as the crowd erupted into cheers once more. The musicians struck up a lively tune, and the celebration officially began.

You, standing toward the edge of the crowd, couldn’t help but smile in childlike wonder at the sight. The sheer spectacle, the sense of unity, and the magic of the moment were overwhelming in the best way.

Loki appeared at your side, his hands clasped behind his back, watching the scene with a faint smirk. “Thor does enjoy his dramatics,” he remarked lightly, though his tone held no malice.

You glanced at him, your smile widening. “I don’t blame him, it’s tradition,” you replied. “And it’s beautiful.”

Loki tilted his head, his gaze softening as he watched you instead of the fire. “It is,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the hum of the crowd.

As the music picked up and the guests began to drift toward the dance floor near the Yule tree, Brunnhilde raised her goblet once more, her voice cutting through the joyous commotion.

“Let the festivities begin!” she declared, her grin wide and infectious.

With that, the courtyard came alive with laughter, music, and the sound of feet moving to the rhythm of the dance. The Yule celebration was officially underway.

⠀

The flames of the Yule log crackled and danced, casting warm golden light over the courtyard. The lively music of flutes, strings, and drums filled the air as the guests, Asgardian and Midgardian alike, joined in the festivities. Around the grand fire and beneath the glittering Yule tree, people swayed, twirled, and laughed in a joyous dance that blurred the line between realms.

You stood off to the side, catching your breath after spending most of the evening immersed in the revelry. Your cheeks were flushed from dancing—both the lively Asgardian traditional dances you had eagerly learned and the familiar Midgardian waltzes that had followed.

Your earlier conversations with the various United Nations diplomats and Midgardian guests had been engaging yet intense, requiring a level of charm and tact you hadn’t entirely realized you possessed. Between discussing Asgardian culture and bridging gaps between worlds, you had barely had a moment to yourself.

Several guests had gone out of their way to compliment you on the gifts they had received earlier in the evening. Each one was uniquely tailored: intricate wooden carvings of Yggdrasil that doubled as ornate keepsake boxes, filled with an assortment of Midgardian delicacies and Asgardian mead, or beautifully crafted quills forged from Asgardian metals, paired with sleek, modern Midgardian ink sets.

You had been stunned by their enthusiasm. The gifts, which you had initially seen in their raw, almost haphazard state under Loki’s supervision, had clearly undergone a transformation. What had once seemed overly extravagant and mismatched now carried a thoughtful elegance, seamlessly blending the traditions of both realms.

Your gaze instinctively sought Loki in the crowd. He must have changed them, you realized, your surprise mingling with an odd sense of pride. He had somehow taken what could have been a garish display and turned it into something meaningful—something that resonated with both Asgardian and Midgardian sensibilities.

Now, as you leaned lightly against a table laden with mulled wine and pastries, you allowed yourself to take it all in. The flickering light painted everything in a magical glow—the Yule tree adorned with shimmering ornaments and glowing letters, the Yule log blazing brightly, and the joyous crowd swaying in a beautiful, chaotic harmony.

You watched as an Asgardian couple paused beneath a sprig of mistletoe, sharing a quiet kiss before bursting into laughter and rejoining the dance. The sight brought a small smile to your lips, though it also sent a flutter through your chest.

“I’m surprised you’re not out there,” Loki’s voice came from behind you, smooth and teasing.

You turned to find him standing just a step away, his emerald-green tunic catching the firelight. He looked every bit the god tonight, regal and effortlessly captivating, though there was something softer in the way his eyes met yours.

“Taking a break,” you said lightly, raising an eyebrow. “Believe it or not, even I need a moment to breathe after dancing with half the delegation and learning to not trip over myself in your people’s traditional dances.”

Loki’s lips quirked into a sly smile. “I’d expect nothing less coming from you. You managed it to make it surprisingly effortless.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “Flattery, Mischief? You’re slipping.”

“Am I now, darling?” Loki replied, stepping closer, his tone low and playful. “Or perhaps I’m just warming up.”

You tilted your head, curious. “And why would you need to warm up?”

Loki smirked, offering his hand. “Because the best dance of the night is yet to come.”

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “I’m not sure I trust you on this one.”

“Wise,” Loki said with a mockingly serious nod, “but not nearly as fun. Come, indulge me.”

Despite your wariness, you placed your hand in his, and he led you toward the center of the dance floor. The lively music shifted into something slower, more melodic, as you joined the other couples. Loki’s hand rested lightly on your waist, his touch surprisingly gentle, as you began to move.

As you swayed to the rhythm, you couldn’t help but glance around the crowd. Your eyes landed on Thor, Jane, and Valkyrie standing off to the side. Thor was grinning broadly, lifting his mug in a mock toast, while Jane stifled a giggle behind her hand. Valkyrie, however, made no attempt to hide her amusement, smirking as she gave you an exaggerated thumbs-up.

You rolled your eyes but felt the heat rise in your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation. “The Justice League is watching,” you muttered, tilting your head slightly toward the trio.

Loki followed your gaze and sighed dramatically. “Of course, they are. Discretion has never been their strong suit.”

You bit back a laugh, shaking your head. “I think they’re enjoying this more than they should.”

“Let them,” Loki said with a smirk, his voice dipping into a playful tone. “We’re far more interesting than whatever ale-induced tales Thor was spinning moments ago.”

“You’re full of surprises tonight,” you said softly as you swayed together, your voice barely audible over the music.

“Am I?” Loki arched an eyebrow, his smirk teasing but his gaze steady.

“You are,” you confirmed. “I know about the gifts—thank you for listening to me, by the way. This… whole thing; this isn’t what I expected from you.”

Loki chuckled, his voice low and warm. “Perhaps you haven’t been paying close enough attention. I’m more than just mischief and chaos, you know.”

As the song came to an end, you felt the faintest tug on your hand. Loki had led you just a step away from the tree, where another sprig of mistletoe dangled from its branches.

You glanced up, realization dawning as you looked back at him. “Seriously? A mistletoe prank?”

Loki’s lips curled into a sly smile, but there was a flicker of something softer in his gaze. “Oh, I assure you, this is no prank,” he replied, his voice smooth as ever.

You narrowed your eyes, your arms crossing over your chest. “If this is about everything—about me pushing you into putting all of this together—then you can save the theatrics. I know you probably still want to argue about it, but I won’t engage in some pitiful argument of pride. We both did well.” Your tone was firm, though there was an edge of exasperation beneath it.

Loki’s expression shifted, his usual air of mischief melting into something gentler. “You think I went through all this trouble merely to settle a disagreement?” He took a step closer, his voice quieter now, almost earnest. “This isn’t about proving a point or one-upping anyone. It’s about—” He paused, his gaze steady on yours. “You.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone. “Me?”

“You, who somehow managed to coax an entire realm into celebrating something most would have dismissed as frivolous,” Loki said, a rare softness coloring his words. “You, who demanded I find meaning in the smallest of gestures, who taught me that joy doesn’t always come in grand schemes or victories but in shared moments like this.”

Your breath hitched at his words, and for a moment, you were unsure of what to say. Loki took your silence as permission to continue, his hand lifting to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “This mistletoe isn’t some clever ploy or a prank,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “It’s a reminder. A way to say ‘thank you’ for showing me that despite everything, even I am capable of something... good.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, your earlier irritation melting away under the weight of his words. “Loki...”

“Now,” he murmured as he brought you closer to him, his gaze dropping to your lips and then back to your eyes, “are you going to kiss me, or shall I be forced to endure yet another smug grin from Thor when he realizes I failed?”

You let out a soft laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I am,” Loki replied, his smirk softening into something more sincere as his voice lowered, “and I dare say I’ve been patient long enough. Now, I demand my gift for my good behavior.”

Unable to help yourself, you closed the distance, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was hesitant at first, testing the waters. But as Loki’s hand tightened ever so slightly on your waist, and your fingers brushed the back of his neck, the kiss deepened, warm and unhurried. It was as though the world around you had melted away, leaving just the two of you beneath the gently falling snow, surrounded by the golden glow of the firelight.

The moment stretched, but just as you parted, the sound of raucous cheers startled you both. Loki sighed, glancing over his shoulder to see Thor lifting Jane into the air triumphantly, having spun her around in an exaggerated display of holiday spirit. Jane, laughing but apparently exasperated, swatted at Thor to put her down, which only made the crowd cheer louder.

Loki groaned, rubbing his temple as if pained. “Leave it to my oaf of a brother to ruin a perfectly good moment.”

You laughed, your eyes bright as you leaned in and kissed him again, this time quick and playful. Pulling back, you smiled at him, your voice soft as you said, “Merry Christmas, Mischief.”

Loki’s lips curled into a rare, genuine smile, his eyes alight with something tender. 

“Merry Yule, darling.”

⠀⠀

Want to read more of my works? Check out my masterlist !

taglist : @stilleobjection — @the-fandoms-onceler .

⠀

dividers © @angelremnants + @cafekitsune .

angelremnants ©️ 2024. All rights reserved. Do not repost, reproduce, or distribute without explicit permission.

[i2sunric]

𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥 (k.sn)

PAIRING: sunoo x reader (f)

SUMMARY: they say christmas makes everyone feel emotional, but none of the members had ever seen sunoo treat someone the way he treats you.

WARNINGS: fluff, crack, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 3rd December 2024

WC: 1.1k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @cloud-lyy @who-tf-soddhi

a/n: based on this ask from anon! i changed it a little bit i still hope you like it 🩷

The living room sparkled with the glow of string lights wrapped around the tree, the golden star perched on top glittering as if it were the crown jewel of the night. It was Christmas Eve, and the dorm of the group was abuzz with holiday energy.

The members were scattered across the room, some lounging indolently on the couch, others sprawled on the floor with a mountain of colorfully wrapped presents. Laughter bounced off the walls, fueled by Riki’s dramatic reenactment of accidentally burning cookies earlier in the day.

You were seated comfortably on the plush rug, sandwiched between Sunoo and Jake, while the others passed around mugs of steaming hot chocolate.

You were so glad they decided to include you in their holly jolly Christmas day, despite not being too close with everyone.

Despite the warmth of the room and the festive chatter, you just couldn't ignore how close Sunoo was sitting to you— his shoulder lightly brushing yours every time he shifted, his warmth unmistakable.

“Alright, who’s next?” Jungwon’s voice cut through the noise, his leaderly tone commanding just enough authority to keep everyone somewhat focused. “We’re not going to be here all night, people.”

Jay smirked, holding up his present dramatically. “Relax, Jungwon, it’s Christmas, not a board meeting.”

The group burst into a fit of laughter, but Sunoo was unusually quiet beside you, fidgeting with a small box wrapped in silver paper. You looked at him curiously, noting the unusual pink tint on his cheeks.

"Hey man, are you nervous or something?" Heeseung teased, noticing the same thing. "You've been holding that gift like it's a newborn baby.”

“Me? Nervous? Never," Sunoo said hastily, though the way his hand closed much tighter around the present belied his words. "I just… it’s a special gift."

Jake leaned forward, that mischievous grin spreading on his lips. "Oooh, this is juicy. Who's it for?"

Sunoo shot him a mock glare; his lips twisted wryly. "Why don't you mind your own business?

Before Jake could say anything back, Jungwon clapped his hands again. "Let's keep this moving. Sunoo, if you don't open something soon, we're skipping you."

Sunoo let out a melodramatic sigh, but instead of opening his own gift, he turned to you. "Actually… this one isn't for me." He held out the small silver-wrapped box, his voice soft yet clear. "It's for you."

The room fell silent.

“For me?" you asked, the sound of your voice barely above the crinkling of wrapping paper in the background.

Sunoo nodded, his face growing redder as he placed the box in your hands. "Yeah, I— uhm… Go on, open it.”

You hesitated for a moment, aware of the eyes on you, but the genuine anticipation in Sunoo's gaze urged you forward.

You carefully peeled back the wrapping paper, revealing a small wooden box etched with delicate patterns of stars and moons. Inside, nestled on a bed of soft velvet, was a bracelet unlike anything you'd ever seen.

It wasn't just jewelry, but a story. Delicate charms dangled from the chain, each one different. A sun, a music note, a book, a snowflake, and even a small heart-all symbols of moments you and Sunoo had shared.

Your breath caught in your throat, "Sunoo…” you murmured, your eyes swelling with unshed and happy tears.

He leaned closer, his voice almost at a whisper. "Each charm is meant for something. Like the sun because well, you are my sunshine, and the musical note because you always hum even though you think nobody hears you.”

Sunoo continued “The book because for the first time we stayed in a book shop for hours, and the snowflake because well, for today."

You stared at him with your mouth agape; it seemed that the whole rest of the room was erupting.

"Hold on a second!" Jake practically shouted, with his mug of hot chocolate just about to spill. "Did I just hear 'you're my sunshine'?”

Jay tossed his head back and let out a laugh. "This is better than expected. “Hey, are you trying to make us all look bad?"

"Right? Where's my custom jewelry?" Riki said, faking outrage. "This is just favoritism, and I'm not going to stand for it."

Sunoo, to his credit, took the teasing in stride, though his cheeks stayed pink. "This is only for her.”

Meanwhile, you were still in your processing, your fingers tracing the charms on the bracelet lightly. "Sunoo, this is… I don't even know what to say."

He leaned his head to one side, softening his expression. "Say you like it."

"I love it," you said, your voice shaking with emotion. "It's perfect."

A warm smile spread across his face, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you in the room. But of course, that peace didn't last long.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Jake’s voice broke through the moment. "Did Sunoo just lean in closer?” Sunghoon continued, “Are we witnessing the beginning of a love confession?

“Stop it, you two,” Heeseung said, though he was clearly holding back laughter. “Let them have their moment.”

Sunoo rolled his eyes, finally leaning back with a sigh. “You’re all impossible.” Then, with a playful grin, he turned back to you. “Merry Christmas.”

And because it was Sunoo, he didn't just leave it at that. He leaned in and lightly touched his forehead against yours in an action so sweet and intimate that sent the room into another frenzy.

Riki dramatically pretended to faint onto the couch. "I can't handle this. It's too cute.”

Jay nodded, crossing his arms in a stern manner. "I didn’t even realise Sunoo liked Y/n this whole time.”

He smirked at last, finally folding into his usual mischievous self. "I’m just a good actor.”

The night was a continuation of laughter and teasing, but the bracelet on your wrist kept going back to that quiet, meaningful moment you'd shared with Sunoo.

Even in the midst of chaos, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, and every time you did, you caught him looking back—his eyes sparkling like the stars on the tree.

But the best was when, by the end of the night, it was time for you to go back home, Riki placed a mistletoe on the door as Sunoo was seeing you out.

And well, the fireworks set as his lips met yours, more tender than the cake you had earlier.

[wileys-russo]

Fic idea : reader meeting leah’s family and they all love her, then she’s always invited for family game nights and leah is jealous bc reader always wins but they’re never on the same team and you know how competitive leah is 😂

sore loser II l.williamson

"babe. would you want to come with me on tuesday?" leah asked suddenly as the two of you were sat together on the lounge watching tv at her place one night. "like, to your grandmas?" you asked in surprise, having met leahs mum and brother but not the rest of her family just yet.

"yeah. she's been asking about you ever since mum let it slip i was seeing someone, and i'd love for you to finally meet holly and ben." leah smiled at the thought, not a single doubt in her mind that the rest of her family would adore you as much as she did.

"only if you're ready though! there isn't a rush." leah quickly added, squeezing your leg with a reassuring nod as you took a second to think.

"i'd love to lee. but are you sure they won't mind? i know the tuesdays mean a lot to your family." you asked curiously, leah and her cousins always spending every tuesday night at her grandparents house since long before the two of you had started seeing each other.

"of course not gorgeous, and you are family." leah stated sweetly making your heart melt as you pecked her lips with a shy smile. the two of you had been seeing one another for around four months now, though had really only been official for about two.

"then tuesday sounds wonderful my love."

~

"-and you're sure i don't need to bring anything. and this is okay?" you stressed, gesturing to what you were wearing as an amused leah lay down watching you from your bed, having arrived about an hour ago to help you get ready knowing you were quite nervous.

"yes i promise you don't need to take anything. and you look perfect, as always. same thing i said to the last outfit, and the outfit before that." leahs lips curled into a smile as you nodded, turning back to the mirror and tugging at your top with a small frown.

"hey." leah suddenly appeared behind you, grabbing your hands in hers and gently pulling them away. "you look beautiful my girl. my family are going to love you, same as mum and jacob already do! they can see how happy you make me, hollys always winding me up for smiling at my phone whenever you message. should have heard how she carried on when you didn't come to ibiza! she's been hanging to meet you baby." leah assured firmly, hand softly grabbing your chin, nudging your head up so she could press a soft kiss to your lips.

"ready to go?" she asked as you gave yourself a once over and nodded, taking a deep breath. "good girl, come on then." leah let you go, grabbing her keys off your desk and holding out her hand, wiggling her fingers impatiently as your cheeks flushed red at her praise.

~

"hello family!" leah sang out as she let herself into her grandmas, closing the door behind you and grabbing your hand again, sending you a smile and kissing your cheek before tugging you along with her toward the sound of laughter and chatter coming from the living room.

a loud cheer sounded as the two of you entered, and all of a sudden you found yourself being passed from person to person, leah introducing you as you were pulled into a hug and then tugged away into another by one of her relatives.

eventually you'd made your rounds and were sat down beside leah and holly on the sofa, laughing away as her uncle shared stories of what leah and her cousins were like growing up. "so lee, did you prep her for how much of a sore loser you always are?" holly smirked, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

"sore loser?" you asked with a confused smile, leah rolling her eyes. "yeah its game night! she didn't tell you? oh leah, not even giving her time to prepare? thats just downright sneaky mate!" holly tutted with a shake of her head as you raised an eyebrow at the other blonde.

"i didn't want to overwhelm her! you lot are already too much." leah defended her actions as you joined holly shaking your head at her. "i'm already used to her being a sore loser, we've played monopoly once...i won and we've not touched it since." you teased as leahs mouth opened in offence and holly let out a loud peal of laughter.

"right, i'm claiming her as my partner. you can have ben!" your girlfriends cousin grinned as her grandma yelled dinner was ready, cutting off leah as she started to protest.

holly grabbed your hand and dragged you to sit beside her, leah pouting at you from the end of the table as you mouthed an apology, pulled into a conversation with her aunt who sat at your other side.

~

"-four letters!" holly yelled and you nodded, continuing with your silent gestures as leahs family all yelled and jeered, sledging one another playfully as the night went on.

you'd all already played twister, cluedo and blackjack, and you and holly were on a hot winning streak as a power duo, and leah was not coping well with it.

"movie!" you nodded again, switching up what you were trying to act out. "musical?" holly guessed and you nodded happily, her brother yelling out you had another thirty seconds.

a few guesses later and it was right down to the wire, you and holly were currently tied with ben and leah and you needed holly to guess this for you to walk away with winning yet another game.

the timer sounded right as hollys eyes widened. "cats!" she screamed out and you cheered, turning around the card with a grin, everyone else letting out claps of congratulations, well almost everyone.

"nah nah nah!" leah stood with a shake of her head, scowl plastered on her face as you and holly jumped around hugging each other. "she guessed after the timer. doesn't count!" leah announced firmly, walking over to the whiteboard and rubbing off the win with a stern shake of her head, holly booing her.

"leah love its a game, sit down." her grandma smiled as leah continued to kick off, going as far as to pull out the rules and read them out with a grumpy frown. you knew your girlfriend was a bad loser, and you honestly found this amusing more than anything else.

"right then, tiebreaker?" you called out with a raised eyebrow, leah halting her yelling for a moment as her brother and ben ooohed causing her to flick them a filthy glare. "fine. jenga!" leah decided, disappearing as you smiled shaking your head, everyone moving to clear the table.

you walked out of the room in search of your favourite blonde, finding her grabbing a glass of water. "hi loser-oh sorry, love!" you teased, the look sent your way absolutely withering. "cute." leah replied curtly, refusing to hug you as you wrapped yourself round her taller form.

"when i win are you going to be moody the whole drive home?" you smiled smugly, leah trying to pull your arms off as you held on tight. "you're insufferable." leah huffed, giving up and dropping her arms by her side.

"come on baby, give me a kiss good luck." you cooed, letting her go and tapping your lips. "no, get off." leah refused with a blank stare, shouldering past you as you followed after with a grin, sending holly a wink as you joined her, jenga already set up.

once again, it came right down to the wire, the stack now dangerously unstable as leah took a deep breath, surveying which one she was going to take.

"while we're young lee." you faked a yawn, the blonde sending you a glare as you only grinned, even ben chuckling at leahs expense despite being her partner.

the rest of her family had disappeared to the kitchen for tea and desert, only leahs brother jacob hanging around to watch the aftermath of what had been an incredibly tense game.

with baited breath leah made her choice, gently starting to wiggle out the block. "looking a bit unstable there, nobody breathe or else she might kick off!" you teased, holly clutching at you with an overdramatic gasp as leah flipped you both off without looking away from the tower.

you were certain she didn't breathe until she'd dropped the block on top, the tower wobbling for a moment but not falling. "ha, boom!" leah whooped loudly pumping her fist with a smirk sent your way.

you rolled your eyes at her cockiness, the blonde watching you with an arrogant smile, arms folded over her chest and jaw clenched, you hated how attractive you found it honestly.

ignoring leahs ongoing sledging you surveyed the tower, finally selecting a piece and carefully beginning to wiggle it out, holding your breath with each passing moment, making sure to take your time.

eventually it came free, your entire body unclenching as you gingerly placed it on top. you grinned and gave holly a high five, though the smiles were wiped off your faces as suddenly the tower came tumbling down, blocks crashing to the floor as leah cheered.

what she failed to notice was you seeing her foot quickly dart back from where the blonde had subtly kicked the corner of the table, leah grinning as she assumed she'd gotten away with it.

you chose not to mention it, accepting her teasing with a roll of your eyes, the two of you making your rounds saying bye as leah had training early tomorrow and the night was ticking on.

though once you'd gotten to the safety of leahs car, you sent her a very pointed glare. "you are such a fucking cheat." you accused, smacking her hand away as she tried to rest it on your thigh.

"don't know what you mean my girl, don't be a sore loser now." leah smirked and you huffed, ignoring her for the rest of the drive home much to leahs amusement.

"oh come here. stop being a baby!" leah laughed as she tried to pull you in for a cuddle and you shoved her off, you have successfully ignored her every attempt at engaging with you as the two of you arrived back to your flat and got ready for bed.

"admit you kicked that table over." you warned, the two of you laying practically nose to nose in bed as her cold hands slid up your jumper. "so what if i did? what are you gonna do about it hm?" leah smirked, lips ghosting yours.

"nothing? thats what i thought." leah leant in intending to kiss you as once again you shoved her away, flopping over onto your other side. within a few seconds your girlfriend had climbed on top of you, legs straddling your hips and hand clasping your cheek, forcing you to look up at her.

"you are such a sore loser." you glared up at her, only further annoyed at how good she looked as she gave you that stupid cocky grin of hers.

"maybe. how about i make it up to you then baby girl?" leah all but purred, rocking her hips on top of you and tilting her head with a smirk as a hot flush started to creep up your neck. "and how are you going to do that?" you challenged as she kissed your jaw.

"oh i have a few ideas."

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Does It Feel Like Christmas Now?

Pairing: Javi Gutiérrez x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Javi's not feeling too festive this year, his best friend Nic can't make his annual Christmas party... guess it's up to you to cheer up the handsome party host. Warnings: smut, fingering, 69, oral (m & f receiving), javi eats ass, cum eating, weed use, alcohol, muppet christmas carol, i just really want to touch javi's stomach, like this is just a bit of plot and story so that javi g can get his dick sucked. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Words: 3,600

Written for the lovely @beefrobeefcal Disaster Control challenge. Merry Christmas Beefy! I've LOVED getting to know you and partake in the unhinged with you. 💕🥩

Masterlist

🐻🐻🐻

Javi stands at the balcony lit in twinkling lights overlooking the ocean. Normally, this time of year fills him with joy, his mind dancing with the singing of the street corner choir, going home and getting warm by the fire. Because he knows it’s true wherever you find love it feels like Christmas. 

But this December, a melancholy has settled over. His sweet reunion with his friend this year will not be happening. 

He sighs and turns back to survey the scene of his staff setting up everything for his annual Christmas party. The ballroom of his mansion has been transformed into a winter wonderland. Enormous fir trees with their branches laden with shimmering ornaments and lights stand in each corner. Silver and gold tinsel drapes from the vaulted ceiling. Garlands of holly and ivy wind their way along the walls. Crystal chandeliers hang adorned with red velvet bows and clusters of mistletoe. Red and green spotlights dance along the marble dance floor. Well, at least all of his friends will have fun tonight.

How could he possibly enjoy his legendary Christmas soiree without Nic? For the past few years, Nicolas Cage has been the life of Javi’s annual yuletide bash. And now, with Nic all the way back home in Hollywood filming the newest installment of Cage Chronicles there was just no way he could make his way to Majorca.

It doesn’t feel like Christmas. 

—-

“What in the world?” you ask, mouth agape at the sight ahead of you. A palatial estate lays ahead of you as your friend Clara navigates the winding driveway. “How the hell did you work this invite out?”

Clara flashes a mischievous grin as she pulls the tiny Fiat up to the valet. “Let’s just say I have connections in high places,” she says with a wink.

“So, that guy you’ve been seeing?” you ask as the valet in a crisp red uniform opens your door.

“Yep,” she responds, punctuating the p. “It’s his cousin Javi’s party. Come on now, let’s get fucked up.”

Soft strains of “White Christmas” drift from inside as you approach the grand entrance. The massive oak doors swing open, revealing a scene that looks straight out of a Christmas movie. Your eyes widen as you take in everything before you. A waiter approaches with a tray of champagne flutes. You take one, the bubbles tickling your nose as you sip the crisp and obviously expensive champagne.

"Holy shit," you whisper to Clara. "This is insane.”

Clara tugs at your arm, pulling you towards a room where the music grows louder. As you enter the ballroom, your jaw drops at the spectacle ahead of you. Beautiful people all clad in beautiful outfits and jewels talk, laugh, and dance as a live band plays.

You scan the room, trying to take it all in. Your eyes landing on a man standing alone near one of the enormous Christmas trees. He’s impeccably dressed with a charming smile on his face, but there’s something melancholic that lines his features. He’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

His dark hair is slicked back, his broad body clad under a tailored suit, his deep brown eyes survey the room—until they settle on you.

With a slight nod of his head, he raises his champagne glass in a greeting before taking a sip. His gaze intensifies as it travels up your body. And just as you feel the heat of his gaze land on your eyes, Clara pulls you away.

“Come on, Alejandro’s outside,” she shouts over the band.

You follow her reluctantly, feeling the handsome stranger’s eyes on you as you move to the breath-taking veranda.

Clara squeals with delight as she spots Alejandro, she thrusts her drink in your hand before rushing over to plant a kiss on his cheek. You stay behind, feeling slightly out of place.

You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of pine and salty sea air as Clara and Alejandro chat animatedly. You love Clara, she’s your closest friend in your college’s abroad program, but she’s much more of a social butterfly than you are… especially when it comes to men. 

You can already tell it’s going to be another night of you standing alone in a pretty dress while Clara has all of the fun. You guzzle down the rest of your champagne before starting on Clara’s flute.

The breeze chills your skin… someone really should have warned you about the chill that blows off the Mediterranean Sea in December. The velvet of your short, red dress does nothing to warm you. At least the party inside looks warm. 

"I’m going to get a refill,” you announce to the two lovebirds enamored with each other. swallowing down the rest of your champagne.

“Have fun!” Clara giggles as Alejandro nuzzles against her neck.

Weaving through all of the sequins and tuxedos, you spot a waiter and snag another flute of champagne, downing half of it in one gulp.

It’s too hectic in this fancy ballroom, Clara really got you with the promise of free booze. This mansion looks more like a castle… you wonder just how many rooms are in this place. Curiosity gets the best of you as you sneak off past the ballroom doors, your heels clicking against the polished marble floor of a long, dimly lit hallway. At the end of the hall, a door sits slightly ajar with a familiar song floating out of it. 

A cup of kindness that we share with anotherA sweet reunion with a friend or a brotherIn all the places you find love, it feels like Christmas

The familiar lyrics of “It Feels Like Christmas” beckons you toward the dark room.

You peek inside, of course this mega mansion has a home theatre. A lone person silhouetted by the screen sits on a plush couch at the front.

The person turns at the sound of your heels, your eyes adjust to the darkness, before realizing it’s the handsome man from earlier. His eyes widen slightly in recognition.

“I’m sorry, “ you stammer, suddenly feeling quite foolish. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I—the party was just a lot.”

He smiles warmly, the sadness in his eyes lifting slightly. “No—no need to apologize. Please, join if you’d like, I could use the company,” he says, his voice deep and accented. Of course his accent would be just as beautiful as him.

You make your way down the aisle before settling on the seat next to him. He sits up straighter, his jacket discarded and his tie loosened.

“A classic,” you quietly say.

He nods, his eyes fixed on the screen. “It’s mine and Nic’s favorite. We’d watch it every year after the party.” “Nic?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

He chuckles softly. “Nicolas Cage. He’s usually the life of this party, but this year he couldn't make it," he explains with a wistful tone in his voice.

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Nicolas Cage? As in, the actor? Like—as in Spider-Noir or ‘NOT THE BEEEEES!‘ Nic Cage?”

He nods, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Yes. He is one of my closest friends. This party just doesn’t feel the same without him.”

You’re stunned into silence, processing the surprise revelation. “He’s my favorite actor.”

“He’s mine too,” he says, turning to you, his eyes glistening with a wide smile across his face, you notice a deep dimple on his cheek. You can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to dip your tongue in the divot of it. “I’m Javi,” he says, extending his hand towards you.

You give him your name, shaking his hand. His large hand engulfs yours with a firm, warm grip.

“You certainly know how to throw a great party out there Javi.”

He nods with a hum of agreement.

“Did you want a drink?” he asks.

You nod, grateful for the offer. “That sounds lovely, thank you.” Javi stands, moving to a small bar tucked in the corner and pours two lowball glasses with amber liquid.

“I hope whiskey is alright,” he says, handing you one of the glasses.

You take a sip, the smoky flavor warming you from the inside out. "It's perfect," you reply, settling back into the plush seat.

As the movie plays on, you find yourself relaxing, the whiskey and Javi's presence melting away the awkwardness you felt earlier. Javi lights up a joint, and offers it to you, which you gratefully accept and take a hit.

Of course it’s good weed, so good, you have a bit of a coughing fit after your first inhale. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, his hand coming up to rest on your back, running soothing lines up and down it. “Your dress is so soft.” 

His touch both heats and soothes your body, even more than the whiskey and weed.

His hand stays on your back, still running slightly up and down your dress as the two of you laugh at the antics of Gonzo and Rizzo, recite lines along with the Muppets, and hum softly to the familiar songs.

Javi seems to cheer up, his earlier melancholy fading as he laughs along with you and shares stories about watching it with Nic.

Rizzo and Gonzo disguise themselves as busts. 

“This is my favorite part,” you smile. 

You feel Javi’s eyes on you instead of the screen, his gaze intense, filled with something you can’t quite sense. You feel heat creep up your neck as you look at him.

"You have a beautiful smile,” he says softly.

You lean closer, he smells of sandalwood and citrus.

“I like your smile too,” you say, earning an adoring smile from him.

He moves his hand, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer, shocking you as you try to calm your now racing heart.

You steal glances of Javi throughout the movie, the soft glow from the screen lighting his profile. You follow the strong line of his jaw and the curve of his plush lips up to his sharp nose. 

Scrooge begins his transformation from miser to charitable hero, but you find it increasingly difficult to focus on the story. Javi’s fingers trace lazy circles on the bare skin of your arm, before they move to the nape of your neck, massaging the sensitive skin there.

You shift slightly in your seat, pressing closer to Javi and letting out a soft moan as his thumb brushes against your collarbone.

The liquor, his touch, and his handsome face drives you wild.

The credits roll, your heart drops as he pulls his arm away. He turns to you, his eyes dark. “This has been fun, thanks for keeping me company.”

His voice is deep, his big, brown eyes roam your face. Your mouth opens, your tongue darting out to lick your lips, trying to figure out what to say to keep him here with you. He leans in closer, his eyes flickering to your lips. His warm breath hits your skin, smelling of whiskey, weed, and mint.

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips meet yours.

His lips are soft, his kiss is sweet. He pulls you closer as his tongue traces the seam of your lips. You part your lips with a soft gasp, tasting the whiskey and peppermint that lingers on his tongue. His hand slides down your back, gripping your ass and scooting you into his lap. You eagerly climb atop him and moan into his mouth, your fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. 

He nips at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue, you return the favor earning a low growl from Javi that vibrates against your lips.

You part for air, both of you breathing heavily.

Javi rests his forehead against yours, his eyes dark as they meet yours. “Would you like to continue this evening—maybe somewhere more private?”

Your breath catches in your throat as you nod, unable to find the words. Javi stands, offering his hand to help you up. He leads you out of the theatre and through winding corridors, the sounds of the party grows fainter.

You ascend a grand staircase, your fingers intertwined with his. Ornate oil paintings and gilded mirrors line the walls. You can’t believe you’re doing this, but when a man who looks like Javi offers you a more private place to take you to, you say yes.

He stops before an intricately carved mahogany door, fishing a key from his pocket. The lock clicks open, and Javi ushers you inside with a gentle hand on the small of your back.

You gasp as you enter. The room is enormous, easily the size of your entire apartment. A massive four-poster bed dominates one wall, draped in rich fabric. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the moonlit ocean.

“Oh my god, Javi, this is gorgeous.”

He smiles warmly at you.

"You know, I wasn't sure I'd enjoy tonight at all. But you've made this evening so much brighter. Thank you for that." He steps closer, his hand cupping your cheek. "I'd like to show my appreciation, if you'll let me."

He leans in, his lips barely brushing yours. “How would you like to do that?” you whisper.

His brown eyes darken. "I want to taste you," he growls, his accent thicker with arousal.

You nod, unable to speak.

Javi starts to guide you towards the bed, but then pauses. "Oh, one moment," he says, moving to his dresser.

You watch, puzzled, as he gently turns around a stuffed Paddington Bear plush perched there. "Wouldn't want him to see," Javi explains with a playful wink.

You giggle as Javi’s hands slide to your waist. “Now where were we?” he asks, his hands sliding to your hips and pulling you flush against his body. His kiss makes you melt into him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

His hands find the zipper of your dress and slowly lowers it, the cool breeze from the windows hits your skin as the fabric pools at your feet. His warm palms slide up to trace the lace edge of your bra.

He guides you backwards until your legs hit the bed, he eases you down onto the silky sheets, your skin sliding easily as you scoot back, resting your head on the mountain of pillows as he crawls over you.

His lips trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. You arch into him as he lavishes attention on your collarbone, nipping and sucking. His stubble scratches deliciously against your sensitive skin.

He makes quick work of your bra clasp before he slowly peels the lace away, revealing your breasts to his hungry gaze.

A needy whimper escapes you as he takes one hardened peak into his mouth. His tongue swirls around your nipple as his hand kneads your other breast.

Carding your fingers through his soft, thick hair, you moan his name as he switches his attention to your other breast, worshipping it with the same dedication.

His lips continue their journey down your body, pressing feather-light kisses across your ribcage and stomach. Your hips buck involuntarily as he nips at the sensitive skin below your navel.

Javi hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties, looking up at you with a silent question in his eyes. You nod eagerly, lifting your hips to help him slide the lace down your legs.

He settles between your thighs, his hot breath fanning over your pussy already wet for him. You tremble as he places a tender kiss on your inner thigh.

"Relax, mi amor," Javi murmurs. "Let me take care of you."

Your head hits the pillow, a long groan escaping your lips when he first tastes you. He laps at you with long, broad strokes before sealing his mouth over your clit. Your fingers tangle in the silky sheets as he sucks and flicks his tongue in maddening patterns.

A thick finger slips inside you, his tongue on your clit and his finger pumping in and out already has your legs trembling.

Your back arches off the bed as Javi works you. His free hand grips your thigh, holding you steady as you begin to shake.

"Javi," you gasp, your voice breathy and desperate. "I'm so close."

He hums against you, before pulling away, his handsome face slick with your wet. He smiles his devilish smile.

“I love doing this, you taste so good.”

He stretches you with another finger and curls both up, as he slowly fucks you, slow and deliberate, dragging in and out, driving you crazy. 

With a long, deep swirl of his tongue, you cry out Javi's name. Your fingers and toes curl while your heart shatters against your chest. Your orgasm pulses through you, your body feels like it’s floating above the obviously expensive silk sheets. Javi gently swirls and laps his tongue all over your pulsing pussy until you become too sensitive.

“S-s-stop, t-too much, oh my god,” you stutter, your body quaking from his attention.

Javi chuckles against you before pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs as you come down from your high. He moves back up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, imparting your taste against your lips.

His still-clothed body covers your naked body on his bed. Your fingers move clumsily, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, eager to feel his bare skin against yours.

He breaks the kiss, chuckling softly. “Patience, mi amor,” he whispers, sitting back on his haunches and unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. You watch, mesmerized, as he reveals his tanned, toned chest and plush belly. He tosses his shirt aside, your hands immediately run over his smooth skin, reveling in the way he twitches under your touch. Your hands run down to the waistband of his dress pants.

“Off,” you say, tugging at his belt. He chuckles, quickly unbuckling and removing his pants and boxers.

He’s gorgeous, your eyes widen as you take in the sight of him. His thick cock lays hard against his stomach, already leaking for you. Wrapping your hand around him and stroking him lightly, a groan escapes his lips, his hips bucking into your touch.

You want him in your mouth, you want to know what he tastes like. You sit up, pushing him onto his back. “I want to taste you too.”

He groans. “Yes, mi amor. Come here,” he says, pulling you to straddle his face in reverse.

Leaning forward and bracing yourself on his thick thighs, you lower your mouth to his cock and lick a long stripe up his wide shaft. He moans, the vibrations tickling against your folds as he begins to devour you.

He’s velvety smooth in your mouth, hard and musky. His hips twitching as you suck against his head before taking him down your throat.

Javi licks and sucks against your clit, his fingers sliding in and out of your pussy, earning moans around his cock. You relax your throat, taking him even deeper as his fingers pump faster inside you.

He grips your ass, kneading the flesh as he devours you. Your orgasm shows itself again, your core and body coiling tighter with each swirl of his tongue.

Javi’s cock twitches in your mouth as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks to suck him harder. His hips moving in shallow thrusts as he fucks your mouth.

“Close,” he grits as you cry around his cock, he slips his fingers out of you. His strong hands knead and spread your ass cheeks, exposing you fully to his hungry mouth. You gasp around his cock as his tongue draws a path from your pussy to your ass. His tongue circles your puckered hole before dipping inside. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before—and you’re doing it with a gorgeous man who you just met at his lavish Christmas party.

Javi groans, the vibrations traveling through you as he works you with his mouth. His tongue darts from your clit to your entrance to your ass in an unpredictable pattern that leaves you dizzy. You're trembling, teetering on the edge of bliss.

"Javi," you whimper against his cock.

He groans, his grip tightens on your ass as his tongue delves deeper, pushing you over the precipice. You cry out around his cock, your body shaking as your second orgasm crashes over you. You suck him harder, taking him all the way down to your throat, choking on his length.

The sensation proves too much for him. With a deep groan, he pulses and spills into your mouth. You swallow around him, savoring his taste as he rides out his climax.

Spent and sated, you roll off of him, collapsing onto the plush mattress. Javi gathers you in his arms, pressing tender kisses to your forehead as you both catch your breath.

“So, does it feel like Christmas now?” you ask, snuggling closer to him, relishing the heat of his bare skin against yours. The distant sounds of the party drift in through the windows.

“Mm, it does,” Javi rumbles, capturing your wandering hand and bringing it to his lips to place a kiss across your knuckles. 

[oh-stars]

Sundays are for Scoops

for @nerdsandthelike as a part of @fandomtrumpshate.

Thank you @lady-lostmind for betaing!

Rating: G | Scoops Troop, found family | No warnings | 2,394 words

--

It takes Steve twelve hours to decide to go for it. It takes him another three days to get Robin on board. 

“These kids have you wrapped around their finger,” Robin huffs, feet scuffing up his dash as she sinks further into the passenger seat. 

“Like you could deny them anything,” Steve points out. “You biked across town to get Erica a pint of ice cream from Melvad’s because she mentioned her mom couldn’t find it at Bradley’s Big Buy.” 

Robin scowls at him, arms crossed. “Not the point.” 

Steve adjusts his grip on the steering wheel as he turns into the Wheelers’ and Sinclairs’ neighborhood. “This is going to be good for us,” he says, maybe too sincere for their usual schtick. 

“I’m not getting out,” Robin says as he eases up to the curb on the house between the Sinclairs and Wheelers. “The last thing I need right now is one of your kiddie friends stealing my seat because of some arbitrary rule.” 

“Oh the best friend privileges?” Steve asks, already opening his door. “The same ones you claim?” 

Robin flips him off, a quick, sarcastic smile pinching her face. 

He heads to the Sinclairs’ first. Steve doesn’t even get to knock before Erica’s opening the door, unimpressed. “He’s not here.” 

“Cool, not here for him,” Steve says. 

She pauses, lips pursed. There’s a flicker of hesitance, of something deeper, before she cocks her hip out and crosses her arms. “What do you want?” 

Steve leans against the wall and shrugs his free shoulder as nonchalantly as he can. Act cool, Harrington. “I’m having a game night at my place–” 

“Pass.” 

“Are you sure?” Steve asks, pushing himself back to standing. He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “Rob’s in the car already and I’m about to drag Henderson out of Wheeler’s basement–” 

“I’m not playing with my stupid brother and all his–” 

“He’s not invited,” Steve says. “Scoops Troop only.” 

Erica’s eyes grow wider, just enough for Steve to pick up on it. He sees her hand ease up on the door frame. “I’m too old for Chutes & Ladders,” she says pointedly. 

“Good, because I was thinking Henderson could help us learn Dweebs and Doorknobs, if you were up for it,” Steve says with another shrug. He shoves his hands into his jacket pockets. “Or I could teach you guys Gin Rummy. Your call, Sinclair.”

She juts her chin up with a sniff of her nose. “Fine.” 

Steve tries to hold back his smile as much as possible, but he’s sure he’s failing miserably if the roll of her eyes says anything. “Grab your shit and meet Rob in the car. I’ll go get Henderson.” 

Erica slams the door in his face. He’ll take it for the win that it is. 

Mrs. Wheeler barely says hello as she opens the door, motioning with her head toward the belly of the house with Holly on her hip. “You know where they’re at.” It took a while for her to come around to him showing up for Mike instead of Nancy, but she’s finally settled with this new reality. Probably a lot faster than Steve himself did. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Wheeler,” Steve says, kissing her cheek as he passes. 

The wall of sound that erupts from the basement when Steve opens the door nearly takes him out. He pushes past it, jogging down the stairs, and snaps his fingers. “Henderson, time to go,” he says over the boys arguing. 

Dustin and Mike barely falter, only stopping for a split second to share a curious twitch of an eyebrow before they’re diving into another argument about some alligator of Star Wars or whatever. 

Lucas is watching them go back and forth like a tennis match, mindlessly shoving chips into his mouth as he nods along to their points. 

“I don’t have all day, Henderson,” Steve says. “Chop, chop! Let’s go!” He claps his hands, leaning over the railing to get a better vantage point to glare at the kid. 

Dustin rolls his eyes. “We’re in the middle of something, Steve,” he hisses. “Can’t you wait?” 

“Nope. C’mon. We’ve got places to be.” 

“Dude, seriously? You’re not even supposed to be my ride today! I biked here!” 

“Then shove the bike into the trunk. I don’t really care,” Steve says, shrugging just to piss him off even more. It’s fun riling him up, and as his honorary big brother, it’s Steve’s sole purpose in life to irritate him as much as possible. He takes his job very seriously. 

Dustin waves him off and turns back to Mike, who looks just as irritated by Steve’s presence but that’s not exactly new. “Ignore him. He’ll go away eventually. But you’re wrong about–” 

Steve looks to the popcorned ceiling and takes a deep breath. These kids, man. He propels himself off the rail and practically snags Dustin by the ball cap in one fluid motion.

The squawk of indignation he receives for his efforts only fuels him further. Steve drags him to the stairs. “Say bye, Henderson.” 

“This is child abduction,” Dustin squeaks, stumbling after Steve, considering he won’t free his hat or take it off his head. “I could call the police on you.” 

“Oh no,” Steve says, monotone, “I’m so scared of the cops.” 

“Hopper takes this shit very serious–” 

They both pause, breath hitched in their chest for a fraction of a moment, as they stare at one another in a silent panic. Understanding passes through them, quiet and heavy as they swallow their grief and move on. 

“Don’t fight me,” Steve says as he pushes Henderson along. “You’re going to like this.” 

Dustin groans his goodbyes to the Wheelers, then stomps his way down to the Beemer with Steve. 

He rounds the car, then groans even louder when he sees Robin in the front seat. “Steve,” he whines, long and loud, “tell her to move.” 

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into his seat. “Just get in, dude. We’ve got plans.” 

“Oh yeah,” Robin says. “Because this is so time sensitive.” 

“We’re about two seconds from Mr. O’Neil having me towed, so,” Steve says, cranking the car with a pointed look through the window at a pouting Dustin. “Get in the car, Henderson.” 

*

The Harrington House is usually cold and lifeless, but right now, it’s the warmest Steve’s ever felt. They’ve got a mixtape Robin made playing through the sound system on a low volume, a nice hum through the spacious rooms that shakes the chill from the walls. The dining room lights are dimmed and they lit candles for ambiance, the shadows flickering over their faces as they all gathered around the table. 

Dustin’s at the head, standing over them as he hovers over the papers strewn around the wooden surface. “And then, out of the depths of the forest, a creaking, eerie whistle–” 

“How can a whistle creak?” Robin asks, tapping her pencil against her chin. 

Steve tilts his head back, lips moving as he tries to imagine the sound in his head. 

Dustin levels her with a glare. “Just roll with it–” 

“But if I can’t imagine it–” 

“Then work on your imagination–” 

“Maybe you should use descriptions that actually make sense,” Erica snips, lips pursed as her eyes light up with glee. 

Dustin scrubs at his face for a second. “Okay,” he stresses with his hands in front of himself. Rushed, he says, “Out of the depths of the spooky forest, you hear a long, sharp whistle that sounds like a–”

“When did this become a spooky forest?” Robin asks, leaning forward. “You didn’t say that last time.” 

“It was implied–” 

Steve covers his mouth with his hand, shoulders shaking with laughter as Dustin’s face gets progressively redder. 

Erica giggles, hiding in her hands as well and then suddenly all three of them are laughing hard enough to shake the table. It’s so silly and fun, playing together and riling up Dustin for the heck of it. Even Dustin was breaking, plopping back down in his seat and hiding his face behind the brim of his hat. 

It’s all just so… trivial. 

Steve knows how much this game means to Dustin, has spent the better part of a year hearing all about it, but he’s never seen how fun it could be. And here they are, with the characters Dustin helped them build, learning how to play and barely able to function for just… fucking around. Granted, he knows that Dustin probably wouldn’t be this flippant about his “real” games with the other guys, but it’s a very special kind of reward to see him and Erica act a little goofy. 

The last time the four of them were in a room together, just the four of them, they were escaping a secret Russian base. So this is a much appreciated improvement. 

Composed, Dustin sets the scene again. “Sir Robin,” Dustin addresses Steve, “you have to make a choice between the paths. Do you steer your horse, and subsequently your party, down the right or the left paths?” 

Steve looks to Robin, who just shrugs. “Don’t I have a spell thingy I can play?” 

Erica shakes her head. “No, but I do. I want to cast a light down both paths to see what's down there.” 

Dustin considers this, then hands her two different shape dice. “Roll both of these.” 

She does, but Steve can’t be bothered to see what numbers they landed on. Dustin will explain it anyway. By the looks of it, neither he or Erica are all that impressed with the outcome.

“Okay, you’re able to conjure enough magic to cast a light twenty feet down the path, but you can only do one of them. Which do you choose?” 

Erica looks down at her notes. “The right one is closer to the sound, right? That creaky whistle nonsense?” 

“Yup,” Dustin says, looking smug. 

“The left then.” 

“What?” Dustin squawks. “You don’t want to see what’s on the right?”

“No,” Erica huffs, crossing her arms. “It’s spooky and obviously a trap, so we’re making the smart play and going with the left.” 

Steve points his pencil at her. “What she said.” 

Robin’s head bobs between them like a tennis match, face alight with pure glee. 

Dustin groans but scribbles something down, before saying with a mighty sigh, “You don’t see anything. It’s a perfectly normal path.” 

“Oh, that’s the trap then,” Robin says. 

“Definitely a trap,” Erica agrees. 

“They can’t both be traps!”

Steve shakes his head. “No, no, I’m going with their gut here. I take my sword and start hacking through the brush to make my own path.” 

The barely concealed rage behind Dustin’s eyes as he levels Steve with a look is all worth it. 

*

The game night becomes a biweekly thing. Every other Sunday, the Scoops Troop gathers at Steve’s house to play games from sunrise to sunset. Well, not really, but it's damn near close. They have a one D&D session per month rule, since both Erica and Dustin play with other clubs too. The other Sundays, they play classic games or sometimes Dustin will try to make his own or have them test out another game similar to D&D. 

It’s a good way to connect, especially when they take breaks and Steve can check in with everyone. It’s the only way he knows that Erica has nightmares and can’t do enclosed spaces anymore without thinking about the vents. Or how Dustin likes to walkie in the middle of the night for a proof of life check, but he didn’t think Steve would be okay with that until their third session – which is frankly absurd, since they’re best friends and Steve would literally die for that kid, so a little middle of the night check in is nothing. He and Robin are pretty in sync as is, but it’s fun getting to be silly and forget that they’re like adults and shit. Or close to it. 

With Dustin and Erica, they can be silly and annoy them to their wits end without worrying about life or death consequences. Sure, Steve’s house is usually in disarray after their sessions and he’s usually sick with how much junk they consume, but goddamn is it worth it. 

It’s a few months into their routine when the other boys show up. The Byers and Eleven have been in California for a few months now and their absence seems to emphasize Dustin’s absence every other Sunday. They show up in between their games; a rousing game of Monopoly has left them deliriously competitive for a Game of Life that the girls are setting up. 

Steve answers the door with a raised eyebrow. “What are you two nerds doing?” 

Mike rolls his eyes. 

Lucas scratches at his neck. “Is Dustin here?” 

“You know he is,” Steve says with a sigh. “C’mon, we talked about this at movie night last week. We take Scoops Time seriously.” 

Mike rolls his eyes again. “You’re just playing dumb board games! Why can’t we join you?” 

“How come Erica can’t join your little Dragons and Dorks game, huh?” Steve counters, crossing his arms. “You guys iced her out of that–” 

“Because she’s a baby–”

Steve goes to close the door. “We can do games as a group instead of movie night Thursday, but today is for the Scoops Troop, guys.” 

Lucas nods, a small smile on his face. “Yeah, okay,” he says with a sigh. 

Fuck, Steve really cares for these kids. “Come over tomorrow, Sinclair, and we can work on your free throws. Wheeler, you can come if you want–” 

“I’d rather die,” Mike huffs as he stalks off. 

“Suit yourself,” Steve calls after him. He turns back to Lucas. “I’m sorry, you know?” 

He waves him off. “I get it. Erica needs this,” Lucas says. “I’ll come over after Hellfire?” 

Steve holds out his fist for Lucas to bump. “Good plan. Do you need a ride?” 

“Please?”

“I’ll be there.” 

Lucas’ smile seems genuine as he turns back to the yard to grab his bike from the lawn. He waits until he meets Mike at the mailbox before he waves back to Steve. 

Steve waits until they’re both on their bikes and speeding down the road before he shuts the door. He’s got three nerds to beat at Life, after all. 

[anonymousewrites]

Nature of the Human Soul Christmas Special

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Christmas Special

            “Celebrate Christmas? Toots, you know we’re in Hell, right?” said Angel, raising a brow. "We do Sinsmas. We're sinners."

            “Well, yeah, but that’s why Christmas is important,” said Charlie, beaming. “I mean, how could celebrating a holy holiday not help you all get into to Heaven? Plus, Sinsmas is a little...hellish. Christmas is good for us!"

            “Celebrating a holiday overrun by greed and commercialism would be more akin to sin, wouldn’t it?” said (Y/N) from where they perched at the bar with Husk.

            “Let me guess, your parents taught you that,” said Husk.

            (Y/N) looked at him. “Is that bad?”

            “Your parents were obsessed with sin,” said Husk, rolling his eyes.

            “I ended up in Hell,” pointed out (Y/N).

            “We have got to get you to stop thinking like those idiots,” said Angel. “Seriously, kid, you’re never going to have any fun always judging yourself.”

            “Besides, this is going to be about loving one another and family and joy!” said Charlie. “Not greed. There’s nothing bad about caring for one another.”

            “It’s not like we can go to double hell at this point,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            “Not quite the spirit, but I’ll take it!” said Charlie.

            “We’re going to set up a Christmas tree and do a ‘Secret Santa’ gift exchange,” said Vaggie. “Everyone is participating.”

            “Where’s Strawberry Pimp, then?” said Angel.

            “Would you want to be the one to ask him to join this?” said (Y/N).

            “We could send you,” said Husk.

            “Why do I have to be the one who gets laughed at in their face?” said (Y/N).

            “I’m tempted to laugh right now at this idea,” said Angel.

            “(Y/N), can you help us with the tree?” said Charlie, having already procured a tree from somewhere. She was attempting to pull it into place.

            (Y/N) jumped down from the bar and raised a hand to help root the tree in place. It grew greener as they stepped closer.

            “You think Alastor would’ve said yes to the kid?” said Angel, looking at Husk. “He ain’t soft.”

            “No, he isn’t,” agreed Husk. “He would’ve still said no. But he wouldn’t have been mean to them.”

            “Ya think?” said Angel. He frowned. “I don’t want (Y/N) getting’ hurt ‘cause of him.”

            “We’re here, aren’t we?” said Husk. “We can take care of the kid, too, if Alastor stops training them and tries to use them.”

            “True,” said Angel, smiling as he watched (Y/N) grow mistletoe and holly for Charlie. “If anyone deserves redemption, it’s them. If it’s possible…I ain’t letting Alastor influence them into losing that chance.”

            Husk nodded firmly.

l

            “Alright, time to reveal the presents!” said Charlie happily once the day of the party had arrived, the (attempt) at Christmas music was playing, and she had stuffed everyone into Christmas sweaters.

            “Oh, look, the Grinch is here,” said Vaggie as she spotted Alastor.

            “As hotelier, it is my duty to oversee all Hotel activities,” said Alastor with his usual smile.

            “Do you want to join in?” said Charlie, smiling.

            “I prefer to watch you all toil away at attempting to please one another with material gifts,” said Alastor. “It’s so hopeless I could laugh at loud!” He would.

            “Okay, let’s get on with this,” said Husk. If Alastor was going to spoil any joy he’d get out of this time with people he liked, then they might as well hurry it up.

            “I’ll go first!” said Charlie, excited as ever. “Niffty, I got you, and here’s your gift.”

            Niffty giggled happily (rapidly) and tore the present open like an animal. She cackled. “Yes!” It was brand-new cleaning supplies, and she barely took any time to toss a gift at Vaggie before running to start putting her gift to work.

            “Okay…I’m guessing this is for me,” said Vaggie, looking at the bag apprehensively. She opened it and breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t something dead (like bugs. Or a bird. Niffty seemed like the type to wrap that up as a gift). She pulled out a painting. It was a bit abstract, but it was clearly a bunch of dead exorcists from their battle at the hotel. “I mean, it’s cool.”

            “Not very Christmas-y,” said Charlie, wincing.

            “What did you expect for her?” snickered Angel. “At least it’s badass.”

            “Put it next to the Pentious portrait,” advised Husk. “Or burn it. It might be cursed.”

            “Right…” said Charlie.

            “Okay, well, I got you, babe,” said Vaggie, holding out a box.

            Eagerly, Charlie opened it and found a new brooch. “It’s so pretty! Thank you, Vaggie!” She hugged her girlfriend tightly, and Vaggie smiled and held her in return.

            “Alright, alright,” said Vaggie before Charlie started crying in gratefulness. “Someone else go before she becomes too emotional.”

            “Angel, this is for you,” said (Y/N), holding out a bag.

            “Thanks, kid,” said Angel, grinning and opening the bag. He let out an excited sound and pulled out a large stuffed animal shaped like a big pig. “It’s Fat Nuggets! I love it!”

            (Y/N) smiled. “I’m glad.” They really had tried to find something he’d like.

            “So cute,” said Charlie, nodding.

            “Husky, baby, I’ve got you a present,” said Angel, eager now that it was his turn. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Husk groaned (mostly pretending to be annoyed).

            However, he took the gift and opened it. He hesitated before unfolding the paper, expecting someone extremely sexual. Instead, he found a pack of cards. Surprised, he opened them and flipped through the cards. Each one was themed on stuff in their life and on people they knew. It was…personal. Husk smiled.

            “Thanks, Angel,” said Husk, completely honest.

            “No problem, Husk,” said Angel softly.

            Husk cleared his throat and held out a long box to (Y/N). “Here, kid, it’s your turn.”

            (Y/N) brightened. They hadn’t received a lot of gifts during their life, so this was exciting. They opened the box and found a long handle. Curiously, they pulled out a staff from the box. The baton was black with a red rose and fake thorns and vines at the top.

            “If you’re gonna be some goddammed powerful demon, you gotta look the part, and that means staffs, apparently,” said Husk, grinning.

            “I love it,” said (Y/N), twirling it around in their hands.

            “I’m glad,” said Husk.

            “Not quite finished, though,” said Alastor. He reached out and tapped the top of the staff so that it lit up with magic. “You’ve got to make it your own.”

            (Y/N) focused, and the rose blossomed into a real flower. They brightened and grinned at Alastor. “Thanks.”

            Husk and Angel glanced at one another as Alastor just grinned in return at (Y/N). Huh.

            “Merry Christmas, everyone!” said Charlie, happily pulled everyone near her into a smile.

            Merry Christmas indeed.

Taglist:

@kyalov

@pandaquick

@boredwithlifeatthispoint

@jaytheaceenby

@paastaboi

@bettybabys

@gxdoesstuff

@grippleback-galaxy

@just-here-reading

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@elaemae

@im-making-an-effort

@kitkatlover015

@snowy-violet

@wonderlandfandomkingdom

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 101 (A Visit From Father Clement)

Early on Winterfest morning, Ash woke Conrad and his mother with excitement. They opened presents together by the tree, with Ash receiving a doctor playset from Father Clement and fantasy books by renowned authors like Layla Delarosa and Mercury Medley.

As a little genius, Heather Father Clement thought he might one day want to become a doctor, but she didn't voice her opinion as her son opened his gifts. The Landgraabs couldn't be upset if their precious heir became a surgeon - Nancy could turn Malcolm and Miko's infant daughter Bridgette into Landgraab Corp's CEO, instead.

"I like it, mommy. Surgeons make lots of money, too."

Heather forced a smile over her stunned expression. There was that Landgraab greed again. "You can be whatever you want to be when you grow up," she said. "No matter what you decide to be, I'll support you."

She would never push her son to be anything he didn't want to be, but she wanted him to know he had choices, even if Nancy talked about his future running her company as though it was a foregone conclusion.

As they got through presents, wiggly, happy Lavender woke ready to join the festivities. After a quick breakfast, the foursome travelled to Heather's childhood home in Henford to spend the day with her family.

Four-year-old Michael was curious about his older cousin, Ash, and the toddler followed him around for most of the day with their grandparents. Heather pleased her dad by cooking the grand meal - a fish dinner like they used to have growing up, since they always had plenty of fish with Daisy and Holly around!

"So now that there's a ring, when will there be a wedding?" Neal wondered brusquely. "Before or after he's done with his current case?"

Heather shrugged. She hoped it would be after, but she didn't want to talk about the case in front of the kids. "It's still too cold for a wedding. We're happy being engaged and we just want to enjoy the rest of the season."

"As long as I'm the best man when you finally make it official," said River.

"Whose? Mine or Conrad's," said Heather. She spoke for her fiance after he stepped into the bedroom to check on a napping Lavender.

River and Cassandra's youngest son, Sammy, fussed in his crib. He was hungry, and Heather waved off Cassandra to let her enjoy her meal. "I've got this. I saw the bottles in the fridge when I was making dinner." She was happy to focus on anything other than talk about her wedding.

The thought of being married didn't stress her out at all, but planning a wedding sounded like work. And she already had plenty of work.

Daisy turned to her daughter with a curious gaze. "Conrad will claim River, so who will be your sim of honour, Heather?"

"It should be me," said Hazel with a lighthearted grin. "I'm her Little Dandelion and we're friendship bracelet besties for life."

"She was Holly's sim of honour so Holly will probably be hers," reasoned Cassandra. "You didn't even have a sim of honour at your wedding."

"She hasn't asked Holly yet," said River. The conversation about Heather flowed as though she wasn't even in the room. "Holly keeps checking in to make sure she hasn't asked somebody else."

"I should just let everyone else plan the wedding for me," Heather joked, but she was only half kidding. "It would save me time I don't have to spare already. But it's Winterfest! Let's just wait for Father Clement and put off talking about a wedding until at least the new year. Ash sit down."

"I can't sit down, I'm too excited for Father Clement! I need to tell him about the toys I still want when I open presents at Daddy's place tomorrow."

River turned to share a look with his elder sister.

"Ash, I know you're excited, but Winterfest is more about spending time with people you love than it's about gifts," Heather said.

"I understand, Mommy. I love spending time with everyone, too."

"I know you do. And your cousin Michael can't get enough of you!"

"Yeah, he's alright even though he's following me everywhere." He was too young to mask the bored look on his face, and Heather frowned. She couldn't miss River and Cassandra's quick looks of disappointment and her heart sank.

The front door opened and a man with a long white beard and blue velvet coat entered with a friendly chuckle. Ash leapt up excitedly, with Michael tailing him close behind.

"Father Clement, Father Clement! Mommy said you'd come!"

The jolly old man nodded. "I always come unless there's a glitch in the time code!"

Ash laughed out loud. "Time code! That's a good one, Father Clement."

River leaned in to talk quietly to his elder sister. "He's schmoozing with Father Clement. Is he serious?"

"Happy Winterfest, young Ash. I have a gift for you!"

"No thank you, Father Clement. You can give mine to another kid who needs a happier Winterfest. Mine was the best already!"

Heather smiled, and Father Clement laughed with his gloved hands over his round belly. "That's a very honourable choice, young Ash, and I always make honourable Winterfest wishes come true."

"Thank you, Father Clement. Have you met Michael? He's my cousin, but you might not know him because he's a baby."

"I'm not a baby!" argued Michael, and Heather's smile faded a lot faster than it took Father Clement to take his leave.

The seasonal present-deliverer wandered around the Nesbitt home for a while, checking out corners, looking quietly for a fireplace the Nesbitts had never installed. But it never got cold enough in winter, and they didn't have the space.

Finally, after Ash and Michael had gone to bed and the clock struck one a.m., Father Clement walked out the front door for another year.

Heather fretted as she watched him go, worried it was more than the spirit of the season that made her son such a brat to his cousin. What was she doing wrong?

Her son was a Landgraab in name, but he would not become a Landgraab in spirit, too. She couldn't let it happen. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: So ASH! I don't know about your own experiences with kids and the holidays, but I think a lot of kids at 5-6 get unrealistic expectations about Christmas and gifts and need reality checks when it comes to how the commercialization of the holidays can affect entitlement. Add in the fact he's got Landgraab entitlement swimming around in that brain of his, and this isn't meant to show Ash as a greedy little jerk, but more like a kid who's caught up in the gifts aspect of the holiday and needs a bit of a reality check. I think Heather might need to make time to 'volunteer with family' on an upcoming holiday.

As for how Ash is with Michael, that is a thing I can't explain and seems to be specific to Michael so far. Which sucks! But I guess all sims can't like everybody...

[corruptedcaps]

Bitchcraft

Holly had been successful in finally ridding the school of her and everyone else’s bully Regina. It was a little underhanded that Holly faked that Regina was taking drugs but it was the only way her parents would ship her off to boarding school.

Now her trio of friends were directionless and seemed to be broken of the spell Regina had over them, they started acting nicer and friendlier to everyone. So for Holly the means were outweighed by the good it did.

However what Holly didn’t know was Regina was an amateur witch who had studied a form of magic called Bitchcraft. She had used it to rocket her to her place on the social ladder. She also used it to find out that Holly was responsible for her removal.

“That little conniving bitch. I’m actually a little impressed she had the guts. I was going to turn her into a warty little frog but I’ve got a better idea for my revenge.” Regina said smiling wickedly to her as she began her spell.

Meanwhile hundreds of miles away Holly was washing her hands in the bathroom when she felt a sudden increase to her body temperature. She gripped the sink and matched curiously as her chipped nails repaired themselves and became longer, pinker.

“Oh god what’s happening? Why to I have the strong urge to be mean all of a sudden?” She said to herself as she lifted up her hand to inspect the nails. That’s when she saw Regina standing behind her in the mirror. She quickly turned around but she wasn’t there.

Holly’s heart raced as she stared back into the mirror, only to see Regina's wicked smile staring back.

“You really thought you could get rid of me that easily?” Regina's voice echoed from the mirror.

“What do you want? What are you doing to me?” Holly said with anger trying to push set the fear in her voice.

“You wanted to take everything from me, and for the most part you were successful, but I’m here to give you the rest.” Regina said, her voice smug, eyes gleaming with malice.

Holly wanted to run but her feet stayed glued to the floor, her body rigid as she watched her reflection. A strange tingle spread through her chest, and when she looked down. Her shirt pulled tighter as her chest began to swell, and she gasped in horror, grabbing at it with trembling hands.

“No! This isn’t me!” She muttered, trying to will the changes away, but her words came out weak, almost unsure. The uncomfortable pressure didn’t stop. Her chest continued to grow, filling out her clothes in ways that made her feel foreign to herself.

“Oh yes yes yes make me a wicked bitch like you! No wait what am I saying? This place is much better without the likes of you around.” Holly said almost trying to convince herself.

Her hands flew to her lips next, a strange warmth spreading across them. She touched them in disbelief as they began to plump and swell, turning pouty and perfect. “No… stop it….” She whispered, but the feeling was less repulsive now, more… desirable. She stared at her reflection, her lips soft and full, curling into a wicked smile.

“These will look great wrapped around the captain of the football team’s dick. No! I have to fight this! Stop changing me!” Holly said to Regina in the mirror who smirked back at her.

“I can stop it but I know deep down you’re only enjoying it. And word to the wise, the best cock in the school belongs to Mr. Jones.” Regina said with a knowing grin.

Next, Holly’s wild untamable, messy red hair began to straighten. She reached up, trying to pull the strands back into their natural disarray, but they slipped through her fingers like silk, falling perfectly into place over her shoulders.

“Oh god…” Holly whispered, her voice trembling. But something shifted in her expression as she ran her fingers through the smooth, flawless strands. “It’s not… that bad, is it?”

“Now you’re getting it babe, being beautiful and mean fits you like a glove. You’ve been bullied for so many years, you know how to inflict the most damage don’t you? In fact you want to, don’t you? Let my bitch craft infect you.” Regina said.

“Yessss I’d be the perfect bully! I want to be an alpha bitch so bad! Teach me your evil ways and I’ll corrupt your old friends into the twisted bitches that they forgot they were! No! I don’t want that! Oh but it sounds so delicious just like my new big tits!” She said grabbing at her new chest pleasurably.

Holly’s eyes returned to her reflection, but instead of shock, she found herself lingering, admiring. Her skin had become flawless, her body curvier, her lips pouty and seductive. The unease that had gripped her moments ago slipped away, replaced by a superiority and a sense of purpose.

“Oh why was I fighting this so hard. This school needs a new queen bee, so why can’t it be me. It should be me! I am now the hottest slut here after all.” Holly said putting a hand on her hips an adopting a naturally bitchy stance.

Regina’s voice echoed through the room. “There she is... the new queen.”

“No! Not yet! Change my clothes! These are too dorky to function! Give me short! Give me tight! Give me delicious pink!” Holly purred.

“Try it yourself babe. Channel the bitchcraft I put inside of you.” Regina grinned. Holly closed her eyes and pictured the outfit she wanted.

She quickly felt her baggy jeans cling tight to her waist as the legs merged and flowed quickly upwards into a short plaid skirt. Her oversized hoody turned pink and shrunk to a size more fitting her feminine figure. Her plain white shirt remained unchanged, as her new boobs were drawing the eye exactly as she desired.

“Mmmm perfect. This power feels exquisite. Thanks babe, I wish I had never got you expelled, we could have made a bitchy coven.” Holly said as she primped her appearance in the mirror.

“Don’t be hon, one queen bee is enough for one school. Besides I like a challenge and being sent to an all girls boarding room is opening my eyes to so many possibilities and new experiences. You just focus on being the baddest bitch you can be.” Regina said with a wink before disappearing leaving only Holly’s reflection.

Holly smiled wickedly, eyes gleaming. “I think it’s time everyone at school learned who’s in charge now, starting with the best cock in the place.”

—

Mr. Jones was into hour two of grading papers when he decided to call his wife to tell her he’d be late. The phone was ringing when he heard his door creak open. The sound of her clicking heels on the ground was what drew his eyes to her legs first and he followed them up to the tiny skirt she wore.

By the time he reached her perfect tits he was infatuated with her. The infatuation was shook for only a moment as he saw the magnificent body belonged to Holly, the once timid and nerdy girl.

“Hello Mr. Jones, I’m here for my tutoring session.” She purred biting her lip at him.

“H-Holly, you’re top of the class already. You’ve had straight A’s for two semesters in a row already.” He said as she stalked over to him. He gulped loudly as she approached.

“A’s are good, but everyone once and awhile it helps to get a good D.” She grinned as she sank to the floor under his desk. Mr. Jones didn’t even have time to protest before her pink lips were wrapped around his cock. It was also at that moment his wife picked up.

“Oh hi honey, just wanted to let you know I’ll be late tonight. How late? Maybe an hour.” He said, struggling not to moan. However Holly want happy with hearing it would only be an hour of fun so suck his member tightly.

“Oooohhhhhooooorrrrr I maybe two hours.” He said trying to cover his groan. Holly could make two hours work.

“Anyway darling, have to go, a student needs me.” He said quickly hanging up the phone. Holly loved the taste of his cheating cock and couldn’t wait to sample other cocks. She had so much time to catch up on, so many men to steal.

Meanwhile hundreds of miles away Regina herself was getting orally pleasured by her new roommate. An unremarkable girl that Regina promised to make her bitchy apprentice if she satisfied her. So far she was passing. Regina would have her coven again.

[hellishfig]

just finished listening to episode 34 of worlds beyond number, "something to remember you by," which is the end of arc 3 of the wizard, the witch, and the wild one, and i feel sick from how incredible it was. the physical reactions my body made to some of the words and music in this podcast really took me by surprise. i'm still reeling.

some thoughts:

i'm so happy that suvi is questioning the citadel, her reaction to silver's letter was inspired, and i LOVED her interactions with the quartermaster. she's so clever and intimidating (holy shit that was HOT), but i'm worried about what's happening to silver. i have an inkling that the witches may have already started making moves alongside the man in black, and i wonder how that will affect suvi going forward. and going to try and save silver before returning their "precious cargo" to the citadel... i hope suvi can keep questioning, and that whatever she faces, she doesn't let the justification machine run its course any longer.

eursulon meeting up with tefmet was really cool. i enjoyed the return of the strongest man in silbury immensely. it was extremely funny. and then, when eursulon asked to help and succeeded on his persuasion checks, it was solemnly touching. i love eursulon's power being in steadfast support and protection, and how to him, it's not about opposing the citadel in its entirety, it's about saving spirits, great and small, from those who would use them. and that's something he can do while still protecting his true friends.

ame let the chaos OUT this episode, and it was delightful and nerve wracking and thrilling to listen to. she's very bossy and it's so funny to hear how immediately eursulon goes along with it, despite not knowing what "it" is. growing up watching grandma wren, she seems to have gained a natural authority that makes people who love her listen to her when she asks them to perform innocuous menial tasks. but that's also interesting, because her chaos is focused, if imprecise. she knows what she needs to do and will do it, damn the consequences. as long as she can get away, who cares what she leaves in her wake? that's a problem for future ame.

they stole some brass knockers and a lion! they kidnapped nif to save her from being killed by indri! tof burned bright to free a vrock! suvi heads to war, eursulon and ame TO TOMA! (i almost cried when eursulon said those words and the music swelled. what the fuck, lou. what the FUCK taylor and jared. i'm not okay!!!)

and then of course, brockvale. holly hill. the resting place of sir curran of the hawthorn, who unknowingly sent eursulon on a quest that would lead him to our story. the man in black, the pilgrim under stars, the king of knight, the stranger, holds sir curran's shield. he comes to make an offer. will this poor old guard bid a weary traveler to step over this threshold?

this is why worlds beyond number feels so different to me from other dnd shows and podcasts. these artists have come together with the shared goal of not just playing a fun game that they all enjoy, but with the express aim of crafting a brilliant story. i love a goofy campaign full of shenanigans as much as the next person, but i adore how every choice in this show is given weight and meaning. there are no decisions made for laughs. it doesn't feel like playing a game. it feels like living in the story.

and there are also moments like the ending of this episode. a snapshot of elsewhere in the world, something the players don't know, but the audience gets to. it fills out the edges of the story and provides a richer tapestry of lore and reasoning behind the machinations of those who oppose our heroes. it gives life to the tale.

my heart is beating so fast. this show is incredible. thank you, @worldsbeyondpod , for the world you're creating.

[sakuralovespossums]

okok so im not the person that asked if u take requests BUT may i pretty pls request hcs for master shake x someone who's like.. the opposite of him??? could be gn but preferably fem 😭 my idea is like.. reader is soft spoken, actually cares about meatwad, pretty darn feminine..... yk u get the gist. ty vro currently under hurricane watch 😛

Human Master Shake x Fem Reader who’s his total opposite!

General HCs

When Shake went around bragging about his new girlfriend, everyone just thought he was lying like usual and ignored him. That is until they actually met you and HOLLY HELL how tf did Shake of all people manage to pull a sweetie like you?!

You’re kind, soft spoken, bubbly and always dressed in pastel colored feminine clothing and glittery makeup. You always know just what to say and easily make friends with anybody you meet

Then there’s Shake…who’s…….Shake

He acts all surprised and offended to see people act shocked when finding out you two are together

“Of course we’re together!! You think I wouldn’t be able to hit this sweet piece of cake?”

*Smacks your ass, causing you to jump and glare at him*

Deep down tho, he’s REALLY kinda insecure about your relationship and is worried your only dating him cuz you want something from him and will ditch him at any moment

It doesn’t help that he has a shitty track record with women Svetlana and Freda

But you get that and are pretty patient. So you take your time with him and try to get him to slowly open up and be more vulnerable around you when you guys are alone. Wether that’d be cooking together, running errands, cuddling on the bed, and other mundane stuff

Shake acts annoyed and bored by all this at first, but over time begins to secretly enjoy it and feels more comfortable being with you

Like he’s shocked he doesn’t just like you for your sweet tits and ass!! He now actively seeks you out all the time cuz you’re the only person who makes him feel……..relaxed? Content? He doesn’t get it but he also can’t get enough of it!

Because of this, Shake grows more possessive/jealous. He will glare at anybody who looks at you and will snatch you away when your talking too long to other people

Doesn’t care who they are, he will let them known that you. are. HIS!!!!!

He feels justified in his possessiveness tho with how naive and too trusting you can be towards other people, making you easy prey for creeps who wanna take advantage of your kindness and good looks I kinda modeled your personality after Girlfriend from Friday Night Funkin

Despite being a bit of an airhead, there are random moments where you just say the most out of nowhere intelligent stuff ever that leaves everyone (especially Frylock) stumped

Despite liking you, Shake is still an asshole and can say/do some pretty dick-ish things to you sometimes. You quickly beat his ass reprimand him for it. You’re patient but not a pushover!!!

Shake groans as you drag him along on your usual shopping sprees, carrying home bags of new clothes and makeup from Forever 21, Victoria’s Secret, and Sephora. Meanwhile he’s blushing so hard cuz HOLY SHIT YOUR HOLDING HIS HAND!!!!!!

Peeks under your short skirt whenever he can

You know that 13-in-one shampoo bottle meme? That’s you and Shake

Your aesthetic is like NewJeans, Marina,pink core y2k (you) clashed with ICP, rap rock, horror core (Shake) I don’t know any other bands besides ICP I’m so sorry!

He smells (slightly) less after you forced him to start using hygiene products

He ALWAYS has you on his lap. Wether it’s the bed, couch, Carl’s pool, doesn’t matter

You love cuddling on his lap when he’s watching TV on the sofa, kissing all over his neck and face as he grows redder and redder

Other times he’ll get you back by suddenly ducking down and straight up tongue wrestle you with a sick smirk. His large frame not letting you go anywhere

Sure, you’ll often tease and fluster him. But he’ll also show you your place and leave you a mess too ;)

One time, he took you to an ICP concert and you were both decked out in the whole goth rocker outfit like in the Juggalo episode. God, he couldn’t believe how sexy you looked going from pretty pink to hardcore goth!

Shake cooks for you often after you compliment his meals. It fills him with a type of pride he doesn’t feel from telling others his usual made up stories

You like to hug him from behind as he stirs a pot on the stove, wearing the cute pink apron you insisted he wear he’s such a housewife

Shake still acts bored and annoyed when you try to be soft with him, but you get that that’s just how he is and go along with it while teasing him

He just grumbles into your chest. When Meatwad mentions how soft he gets around you, Shake just chases him with a bat

Shake is noticeably more mellow when you’re around. But that’s only when you around. Once you leave, he goes right back to being an ass to his roommates and neighbor. Please have him move out and live with you already!!!

Relationship with other characters

You and Meatwad instantly get along!

You guys always play together in his room with his dolls. You even gave him some of your old ones, which he loved so much!! Meanwhile Shake glares from the corner

He always goes to you for questions when Frylock is too busy only to be scared off by Shake, much to your frustration

You even exchanged phone numbers so that he can call/text you whenever he needs someone to talk to Shake has deleted his number off your phone numerous times and stopped when you confronted him about it. Now he just breaks Meatwad’s phone

Whenever Shake bullies Meatwad, he threatens him that he’ll tell him on you which instantly makes him panic

Frylock was skeptical when first meeting you. Did Shake pay you to act like his girlfriend? No, not even money could make someone pretend to like Shake. Did he brainwash you with one of his devices?

Regardless, he soon came to appreciate your company and is just glad there’s finally another sensible adult around here besides him!

He’s also appreciative of you for making his life less stressful by keeping Shake in check and being a friend/guardian figure to Meatwad

You like checking out whatever new invention he’s working on and even test some out (as super dangerous as that is)

Sometimes you both stand by the front porch and make chit chat while watching Shake and Meatwad annoy Carl

Oh yeah, Carl……

This greasy ass man is always hitting on you, no matter how many times you tell him you have 0 interest and are already taken

After a while, you become…….not friends but…..acquaintances is the right word. He still hits on you bcuz it’s Carl

“So I just got my pool decked out and it’s uhh….pretty hot out. Was wonderin if…maybe you know….you wanna stop by for a swim in your uhh….favorite bikini. Maybe like the smallest pair ya got………really shows off your boobs and—

*Gets blown up. You turn around to see Shake holding a bazooka*

NSFW stuff

Listen, listen!! I know we all like to imagine Shake as a pathetic attention whore sub!! BUT I also like to imagine him as a selfish dom with a size kink and fat dick that he doesn’t know how to use lmao

You’re just so smol and soft, he can’t help it!!!

He can’t get over how your strawberry scent always lingers on his skin, your soft voice, the way your back arches……..aw shit, did he bust already?

Gets a boner just from smelling your perfume scent

You’re both whiny brats crying for attention. You for his cuddles and dick. Him for your praises

Like I said in my last Shake x Reader fic, he burned all your toys!!! You didn’t talk to him for a week after that, which left him SO upset!!

Frylock: notices your bite marks “Oh my god, y/n!! Did a wolf attack you?!”

You: “Hmm? Oh, that’s just Shake!”

Fun Fact: Shake’s jizz tastes like pistachio milkshake

[mamaestapa]

For the blurb night, can you do smth related to the photos that came out today plz!!!

Media Day|| Joe Burrow x reader

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•summary: you’re out for brunch with your friends when the bengals drop the media day photos…

•warnings: allusions to sex, joes media day picture turns you on a lot

You were out enjoying a nice brunch at a cute little cafe in Cincinnati with Morgan and Holly when you got the notification on your phone: Cincinnati Bengals just made a new post

Today was the Bengals media day, meaning brand new season pictures would be taken and posted to social media today for the fans (and of course, fangirls) to enjoy. You were hoping this new post was a picture of your boyfriend, and it must have been your lucky day because the new post was indeed, a picture of Joe. You felt your cheeks heat up and your heart skip a beat as you looked at the picture the Bengals social media team had posted.

Joe was in his black game day jersey, which was your personal favorite of all of the uniforms the Bengals wore. Something about that black jersey just makes Joe look even hotter—which you didn’t think was possible. As if the uniform wasn’t hot enough, Joe was also wearing that headband he got since he started growing out his hair. The headband holding back his luscious dark blonde waves paired with the black game day attire had you going absolutely feral. He looked like a greek god. You didn’t think anybody was perfect, until you met Joe Burrow. In your eyes(and the girls of tumblr), Joe was absolutely perfect.

You liked the photo and turned your phone off, needing to compose yourself. As you were drooling over the picture the Bengals posted of Joe, Holly and Morgan were engaged in deep conversation. You tried to put your attention on them and listen to what your friends were talking about, but all you could think about was Joe and that photo…

That blonde hair and headband combo, all you wanted to do was run your finger through those waves…

Those muscular arms that Joe worked so hard to grow during the off-season, all you wanted to do was run your fingers over every bulging muscle and prominent vein…

Those plump, pink lips you loved so much, all you wanted to do was kiss them…

And those soft, veiny hands, all you wanted was for his skilled fingers to touch your most intimate places…

You let out a soft sigh, deciding you needed to speak with Joe. He needed to know the effect he had on you from just one single picture. You grabbed your purse and excused yourself from the table, heading to the bathroom to speak to your boyfriend. You locked the door and set your purse down the counter, pulling your phone out once again to call Joe. You pulled up his contact and pressed the call button, bringing your phone up to your ear. You leaned against the sink and bit your lip in anticipation. After the third ring, Joe picked up.

“Hey baby.” he greeted on the other end. “Hey Joey,” you said, “what are you doing right now?” You heard a door slam in the background and the sound of a car starting, “I’m on my way home, just got finished with pictures.”

You bit your lip as your mind wandered to the picture of Joe. So many nasty thoughts were filling your head at the moment as you spoke with Joe.

“Y/n?” Joe asked, “are you even listening to me?” You shook your head and cleared your throat, “Y-yeah. You were saying something about pictures.” Joe just chuckled, “You didn’t hear a thing I said.”

Joe was right. You didn’t hear him because you were too focused on other things that had to do with him…

“Did you see the pictures?” He questioned as he pulled out of the stadium. You hummed, “Mhm, I saw them.” You could hear the smirk in Joe’s voice as he said, “You like ‘em?” “Joe,” you began, “I loved them. I really mean it when I say you are the most perfect man on this planet.” Joe chuckled, “Yeah right.”

You shook your head as a sultry smile made its way onto your face, “No I’m serious. You looked so hot in that picture. All I could think about was how your hands would look touching me instead…” You heard Joe’s breath hitch on the other end, a smirk making its way onto your face. “You still at brunch?” he asked. You nodded, “In the bathroom of the cafe as we speak, talking to you and practically dripping at the thought of how you looked in that picture.”

Joe groaned as he stopped at a traffic light, “Meet me at home in ten.” You smiled triumphantly, “Will do. Keep the headband on for me.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he responded, “Yes ma’am.”

The two of you exchanged a couple more words before you hung up. You walked out of the bathroom and back to the table, letting the girls know that you were leaving. You told them that Joe had gotten sick and he needed you to bring him some gatorade. They were both very understanding, telling you to go home and take care of Joe. The three of you could always go out to brunch together another time. You thanked Morgan and Holly and left the cafe in a hurry, ready to get home to Joe.

You were definitely getting lucky today, multiple times at that, all because of some silly social media post. But you (and Joe) weren’t complaining at all…

hi loves!

so this is my first joe blurb, i hope you all like it! it’s a lot shorter than what i usually write, so it may be a little MEH

i’ll be posting one or two more blurbs tonight for all of you, so stay tuned! i’ve gotten a lot of blurb ideas today, so i won’t be doing all of them tonight. i’ll split them up and do some tonight and the rest another night ;)

i would love to do a night every week just dedicated to writing some short imagines if you’re all interested in that. i was thinking every friday, saturday, or sunday night. let me know which night works best for you if a blurb night is something you’re interested in!🤍

[prettyarson]

You Wouldn’t

featuring: fae!scaramouche x human!reader

cw/tw: bully!scara, hair pulling, crying, faeries pull tricks

synopsis: the faerie world is no place for a human to be

notes: honestly, i’ve been reading the folk of the air series by holly black and just couldn’t get it out of my mind bye

—

You mentally cursed yourself. You always found yourself in this situation.

Bound on the dirt ground, snickers and laughter echoed through the forest dome. The berries around your neck did little protecting to the faeries’s tricks and jokes. And you always found yourself as the punchline.

Being a human in the fae world was full of beautiful, lavishing danger. You knew this world was no good for you; the glamour, the beauty, and the intoxicating pull that keeps you close. You were vulnerable to all of it. And yet, you couldn’t stay away. It was so intoxicating, addicting.

“The dirt fits you.” A dashingly, devious voice spoke, laughter bubbling in his throat, “After all, it’s where your kind are born to end.”

Looking up through your lashes, you drowned in indigo hues. Scaramouche was the most gorgeous faerie that you ever laid your mortal eyes upon. Pearly, iridescent fangs taunted into a smirk that paired perfectly with the rioting look in his eyes.

Ever since you stumbled upon the faerie world —who would have guessed that stump would move?— his undying attention was sewn into messing with you. Most of his tricks were harmless, but he always had a sharp tongue. His words, edged like knives, were his worst weapons against you.

But you never faltered. Your eyes only turned into a glare as you stared up at him. You slowly lifted yourself until you were sitting comfortably. Then you dusted yourself off, purposely tossing the grains towards his shoes.

“Actually, all of my family is cremated.” You tsked, keeping your deep gaze to the fae before you.

His smirk fell, tying and twisting into a scowl. You always seemed to get on his nerves. You always seemed to slither below his skin. And he let you.

“Would you like me to reunite you?” He scoffed, taking a few small steps towards you.

You used to flinch. You used to cower away. You used to stumble over your feet at you ran away.

But not anymore. You stood your ground.

Pushing yourself up from the dirt, fist clenched, you remained eye contact.

“You wouldn’t dare.” You sneered, taking a few steps to match his. “You don’t have it in you to kill me.” You hoped you were right.

There was a flash in his eyes before he closed the distance, chests pressed together. Scaramouche’s hand flew towards your hair and grabbed a handful, tugging harshly. A hiss of pain pried your lips open.

“Just look at you.” He cooed, “I could crush your mortal head with just one squeeze.”

Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, the pain growing with each tug of a strand connected to your scalp. You hoped he couldn’t feel your body trembling against his.

But he could.

The fear your face morphed into had his movements vaulting. There was a hitch of his breath as a race of tears battled down your cheeks. Within a breath, his grip on your hair vanished.

You felt your head lull forward as the locks fell back into place. Shock consumed you, swallowing you whole. You dared not to look back at the fae, but temptation was a dastardly thing.

Peeking through your thoughts, you scanned the devious fae. His eyes were wide, filled with confusion and shock, but only for a brief moment.

“W-What are you crying for, ya baby?” He choked out, quickly taking a few steps back and crossing his arms. He wouldn’t look at you.

You were quick to defend yourself as you jumped up, “I’m not crying!”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he reached inside of his pocket and withdrew a lilac handkerchief. Scaramouche outstretched it towards you, a creeping blush rampaging his pointed ears and graceful cheeks.

He cleared his throat and spared you a quick glance.

“Clean yourself up.”

Once you didn’t reach to take the soft fabric, he lightly placed it atop your head. Heat engulfed your cheekbones into flames and you couldn’t help the way your eyes followed his movements in wonder.

Your fingers grasped the handkerchief tightly and hugged it to your chest. He watched you expectantly, waiting. Then slowly, you lifted it towards your face and lightly brushed the dried up tears.

Satisfied, he turned and began to descent further into the forest. Footsteps echoed through your ears as he crunches through leafs and branches. And you just watched him leave, holding tightly onto the handkerchief.

[notasapleasure]

Come on a walk with me

It was a gorgeous morning so I took some pictures to send to @stripedroseandsketchpads , then I got carried away and thought maybe you all would like to come for an autumn walk with me and my beloved fools?

Introducing the fools: Shay (r, red harness) and Bart (l, off-lead because he's a good boy)

You can hear a bunch of birds, but it was the buzzard at the beginning I was trying to catch

Anyway! It was the kind of morning where the light was spectacular on the autumn colours, mild but not mild enough for midges, the leaves were trickling down like we were in the last era of fading Lothlorien, and the shapes and forms and textures were all beautiful.

Huge sweet chestnut leaves and larch needles in lime green; the wild geraniums growing up through the leaves.

Trees are so good you guys. Look at the forms and the colours! There's a wee river just down to the side of the path.

Look at that line of sycamores (I think!) like sentinels on the other side of the river. Hi friends!

Let's pause for a drink and a sniff.

Fallen trees and overhanging branches and light catching the canopy down the glen :)))

You could almost convince yourself there were elves there somewhere, right?

She doesn't shave why should you?

We had some high winds recently and the tops of the larches seem to have been battered worst, so there are bits of larch in all kinds of improbable places. Also good ferns! But greyhounds don't care about this, hurry up mum, I'll pull you up the hill!

Y E L L O W!! Also some really platonic examples of holly trees here.

A wee stream going under the path.

Higher up where more sun gets through the wild geraniums are still flowering! The ivy's taken its toll on things too, but it'll make so many little guys and critters happy over winter with its berries. Also a peek-a-boo gap in the hedge.

Loooooook! at the itty bitty baby ferns!!!

majestic. can't get enough of this shit.

However, tumblr tells me that's Too Many Pictures.

So if you're enjoying this walk with me, come back for part 2!