#actually I’m making gingerbread cookies but after that

[sunfloweraro]

More Pink Bunny AU

It’s finally bath time for Bunny!!

@thatonecrazysidekick and @tiredgaytheatrekid Bunny is finally clean and floofy!! (And smelling very nice!)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Holding Bunny under one arm, Hyrule slathered soap over his hands, then passed the bar back to Wild. Then, he began to scrub at Bunny’s fur. To his credit, the rabbit remained mostly still over his arm, his hind legs occasionally kicking in the water. The soap suds quickly turned brown with mud, and once every inch of Bunny was brown and sudsy and smelling of lavender and swamp, he dipped the rabbit in the water again, washing away the suds. He ran his fingers through Bunny’s fur, easing out clumps of mud and blood, watching as they trailed downstream.

Hyrule frowned as he worked, clearing the soap from Bunny’s head. He applied another layer of soap to the cleaner fur, taking care to scrub right down to the skin, to gently massage it into his ears, but the second wash did nothing to clear the colour.

Bunny’s fur was bright pink.

“I’ve never seen a rabbit with pink fur,” Wild commented, reaching out to pet Bunny’s head, flinching back when Bunny snapped at him. “No touching, got it!”

“We thought all this was blood, buddy,” Hyrule commented, scratching lightly at Bunny’s head, smiling when he leaned into the touch. Bunny let him pet him, and Hyrule felt special for it. “I’m glad it isn’t. You’ve a lovely coat on you.”

Bunny lifted his head and preened at the compliment, to Hyrule’s amusement.

With Bunny clean and beginning to shiver, Hyrule was quick to call Twilight over to the nearest rock and pass the rabbit off to the only other Link he was comfortable with. Twilight was ready with a little fluffy towel and scooped Bunny up into it. As Twilight began to dry Bunny, scrubbing away at clean damp fur, Hyrule rested his arms over the sun-warmed stone, setting his head over them and watching contentedly.

“Pink’s an interestin’ colour,” Twilight commented as he ran the corner of the towel over the space between Bunny’s ears. “I was worried his fur was stained with…”

“Me too,” Hyrule said. “I’ve never seen a rabbit with pink fur.”

“Could be an era-specific thing,” Twilight said with a shrug. “I’ve learnt not to question it.”

Hyrule chuckled, watching fondly as Twilight began to carefully dry Bunny’s ears, one at a time, pressing the towel over them. Bunny’s eyes began to droop, exhausted and relaxed. Twilight finished up with one last run of the towel over Bunny’s back. As he removed the towel, Hyrule couldn’t help the snicker that escaped him when he saw Bunny’s fur. With Twilight’s firm drying, his fur had fluffed up so he looked twice his usual size.

“Awww,” he couldn’t help but comment. “Bunny, you’re all floofy.” He reached out for the rabbit, but Twilight slapped his hand away.

“Absolutely not. Yer all wet and dirty still. Now finish up with yer own bath—ya reek.”

Hyrule stuck his tongue out at Twilight, but acquiesced, sinking back into the cool water. He watched fondly as Twilight scooped Bunny up into his arms, Bunny easily settling his head over Twilight’s shoulders, his front paws beneath his chin. He watched Bunny’s cute little face as it drifted away from him, back over to the fire. And then Wild pounced on him, dragging him underwater and tearing him out of his fond reverie.

“Champion!”

[cailinsblog]

A Sweet Christmas | Lando Norris

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris and his girlfriend, Y/N, spend a cozy Christmas evening baking cookies together. Despite Lando’s playful messes, they laugh and enjoy decorating the cookies. The night is filled with warmth, love, and holiday magic as they relax by the tree and savor their homemade treats.

Masterlist

The snow had started to fall softly outside the windows of Lando Norris' cozy apartment. It was the kind of quiet, peaceful evening that you could only find around Christmas, when everything felt a little bit more magical. Inside, the soft glow of fairy lights twinkled around the living room, and the warm scent of cinnamon and gingerbread had begun to fill the air.

Y/N was standing in front of the kitchen counter, her apron tied around her waist, carefully measuring out flour. She was excited for their Christmas tradition, even if it was something simple—making cookies together. It had become something of a special ritual for the two of them. Lando might spend most of his time on the racetrack, but when it came to Christmas, he was more than happy to trade in fast cars for flour-covered countertops.

Lando, for his part, was currently attempting to "help" by sifting the powdered sugar... a task he had apparently decided was too easy and, therefore, not nearly as fun. Instead, he was playing around, tossing little clouds of sugar up in the air and watching them drift down like snowflakes. Y/N chuckled as one of them landed in his hair.

“Lando!” she laughed, reaching for a paper towel to wipe some sugar off his shoulder. “You’re making a mess!”

He grinned sheepishly, but there was something incredibly endearing about his childlike energy. “Hey, I’m helping! You just don’t understand the art of creating the perfect snowfall effect with powdered sugar,” he teased, flicking a bit more in her direction.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, holding up the flour and gesturing with a teasing smile. “I think you’re just making a bigger mess than we need to clean up later.”

“You can’t rush art,” Lando replied with mock seriousness, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

Y/N shook her head but couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across her face. “Well, while you’re busy perfecting your snowstorm, I’m actually going to start making the dough,” she said, grabbing a bowl and starting to mix the ingredients.

Lando watched her for a moment, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned against the counter. “I can do that too, you know. I’m good with my hands. Maybe I’ll make the best dough ever.”

“Oh really?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You can barely bake a cookie without burning it, let alone make the dough.”

“That was one time!” he protested, holding up a finger. “It was a *very* complicated recipe.”

She smirked, already knowing he was about to get defensive. “Sure, Lando. You’re probably right,” she said dryly, handing him the rolling pin. “But for now, you can roll out the dough, okay?”

Lando nodded like he’d just been given the most important job in the world. He immediately took the rolling pin and started to roll out the dough with exaggerated concentration, as though the fate of the Christmas cookies rested entirely on his shoulders. Y/N could hardly contain her laughter at his antics.

After a few minutes of him dramatically rolling out the dough, he grinned triumphantly. “All done! Now, what’s next?”

Y/N moved in to take a look, inspecting his work. The dough was unevenly rolled, with some parts much thinner than others, but she didn’t mind. It would all taste the same in the end. “Okay, now we can cut out the shapes,” she said, pulling out a set of cookie cutters in the shape of stars, snowflakes, and Christmas trees. “Are you ready to make some Christmas magic?”

“Born ready,” Lando said, positioning himself beside her. “But I’m going to warn you, I’m excellent at decorating cookies. Like, top-tier.”

Y/N laughed. “We’ll see about that. I have a feeling you’re going to end up eating most of the decorations instead of using them.”

They spent the next hour rolling, cutting, and laughing. Y/N couldn’t help but love the way Lando’s enthusiasm was so contagious. Even when he accidentally made a dough explosion or ended up with flour on his face, he just laughed it off, turning every mishap into an inside joke.

When the cookies were finally ready to go into the oven, Y/N turned to him, her smile softening. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun baking before.”

Lando shrugged, his expression warm. “It’s the company, not the cookies, that makes it fun.”

As the cookies baked, they moved into the living room, where the Christmas tree twinkled with lights and the soft hum of holiday music filled the background. Y/N curled up on the couch, and Lando joined her, draping an arm over her shoulders.

They sat in content silence, only the sound of the occasional pop from the fireplace breaking the quiet. The world outside seemed far away as they simply enjoyed the moment—together, cozy, and happy. It wasn’t the holiday shopping or the big celebrations that made Christmas special; it was these simple, quiet moments.

Eventually, the timer went off, and they both jumped up, rushing back to the kitchen to check on their cookies. The smell was heavenly—spiced with cinnamon, ginger, and sugar. Lando opened the oven door and pulled out the tray with exaggerated care, pretending like he was handling fragile treasure.

After a few minutes of cooling, it was time for the best part: decorating. Y/N set out icing, sprinkles, and little edible pearls, and Lando was immediately at it, piping colorful swirls of icing onto the cookies with absolute concentration.

“You really are good at this,” Y/N said, genuinely impressed as he carefully outlined the snowflakes.

“I told you,” Lando grinned. “I’m a natural.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling as she began decorating her own cookies. They worked together in harmony, sometimes making faces at each other over their icing, sometimes getting into little “cookie decorating contests” to see who could make the prettiest designs. Of course, most of the cookies ended up a little lopsided, but that was part of the charm. Every one was unique and full of love.

When they were finally finished, they stepped back to admire their work. The plate of cookies before them was a sweet, colorful mess of imperfect but delicious-looking treats.

“Well, we definitely won’t be winning any decorating contests,” Y/N said with a laugh, “but I think we’ve created some Christmas magic.”

“Agreed,” Lando said, looking at the plate with a satisfied grin. “They look like something straight out of a holiday movie… except maybe with a little more personality.”

They shared a laugh before grabbing the first cookie from the plate and taking a bite. The warm, sugary taste was perfect, and they both sighed contentedly.

“I think we’ve made some of the best Christmas cookies ever,” Y/N said, looking at him with soft eyes.

Lando smiled, his expression tender. “Yeah, I think we have too.”

They shared a quiet moment, just enjoying each other's company and the happiness of the season. In that moment, surrounded by laughter, cookies, and the warmth of Christmas, Lando and Y/N knew that this was what the holidays were really all about.

And as they settled in with a plate of cookies and a cup of hot cocoa, the world outside continued to drift by, but inside, everything was perfect.

💕💕Remember reblog helps a lot guy💕💕

[lay-z]

💚 Day 18 – Ghost in the streets, Grinch in the sheets

A continuation of Days 2 (Quaint) and 10 (Santa Soap –), which means it’s set in the same universe!

Synopsis: Lots of firsts have happened between you and Simon over the past year. This time, it’s the first Christmas you’re going to spend together, and because it’s your favourite season, you want to make it extra special for your grumpy boyfriend.

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: NSFW, 18+ | military!Reader; fluff; humour; cussing; domesticity; established relationship; overstimulation; breeding kink; Simon is an intense lover in general, I guess.

Word count: 2.2k

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

Simon does what he does best.

He observes, with a steaming cuppa in his hand, – a personalized cup you’d gifted him for his birthday this year, – leaning against the doorframe with his brows drawn together, forehead creasing as if he’s trying to solve a mystery.

But he’s just observing you, his girlfriend slash love of his life, sitting on the living room carpet next to the unnecessarily large Christmas tree, which you made him put up for you, untangling a long string of fairy lights with nimble fingers.

The bloody tree takes up way too much space; makes too much dirt, too, as he keeps finding its deep green needles everywhere after carrying it inside your shared apartment for you. A bloody waste of space and money.

It smells nice, though, he can give you that.

He takes a slow sip of his tea, smacks his lips before he speaks up. “Explain to me again, how watchin’ somethin’ die and wither away slowly in yer home is considered a nice tradition.”

“Simon–“ The exasperated sigh that is torn from your throat as you tilt your head back is enough to make him crack a pleased smile. If there is something he secretly enjoys more than anything, it’s teasing you long enough to have you make all those cute noises for him.

“Bunny, I truly am tryin’ to help here, but I have low elf-esteem,” he says dryly, lifting his cup up to his lips once more to gently blow on the hot liquid. “I’m worried ‘bout bein’ sleighed ‘ere.”

“Oh, hell, no! Not the Christmas puns, Simon!” You drop your hands into your lap, clutching the fairy lights as you glare at him from across the living room.

Simon cackles in rare delight, enjoying your over-exaggerated reaction immensely.

“One more?”

You huff and shrug, already focused on untangling the Christmas lights. “Will you implode if you don’t get them out?”

He sips on his tea, dark eyes twinkling with mirth, “Aye, I might, and ya don’t want tha’, do ya?”

“No,” you grumble, “I suppose not. I still need my big, thick man for cuffing season.”

His chest rumbles at your playful praise. As if you could ever get rid of him again. He takes a few deliberate steps into the room. “What carol do they sing in a Mental Hospital?”

You sigh deeply, rolling your eyes before gazing up at him with a frown. He knows you love his dad jokes, though. “I don’t know, but I’m sure you do, Riley.”

Simon snorts. “Do you hear what I hear.”

The way you blink up at him dumbly, face dropping in feigned disappointment, has his stomach fluttering. “Not good?” You shake your head slowly. “Terrible, actually.”

He hums and the corners of his mouth twitch as he lifts his cuppa up to his lips again. “Another?”

“Simon.”

Over the next few days of leave leading up to the dreaded holiday, the flat slowly but surely turns into some sort of winter wonderland under your care.

And while Simon keeps huffing and muttering in mock disdain like the Grinch with each colourful ornament you put on the Christmas tree and with each tray of gingerbread cookies you bake, he’s absolutely smitten by it and the way you’re actively trying to make him participate in the traditions you share with him from your upbringing.

He never really participated in any holiday, let alone Christmas traditions with his own family as a child. There was no money left for a nice tree or presents or groceries for a nice dinner. Sure, his wonderful mother had tried her best, always, for him and his brother’s sake, but with his awful father in the picture, nothing good had ever lasted long. Simon never had a chance to be part of traditions and he simply convinced himself that he doesn’t care for those anyway.

He starts caring about it all for you, though, because Christmas seems important to you. And whatever is important to you ultimately turns out to be important to him, too. Yes, he’s that devoted when it comes to you.

Bloody hell, he even stopped smoking, because you’d stopped, too. Perhaps not completely, but he’s turned it down – a lot.

Simon finds you in the master bedroom, a place he’s come to learn to appreciate since you two moved in together a few months ago. He can hear you singing “Last Christmas” to yourself softly as he sneaks up on you while you’re sitting on the floor, – always on the floor for whatever reason, – while the only thing visible is the crown of your head peeking over the side of the large box spring bed. He can clearly hear the cutting of scissors followed by the crinkling of paper, which leads him to assume that you’re wrapping presents again.

Before you and him had become official, his bedroom barely looked like someone was living in it. He had to sleep with a light on and spend most nights tossing and turning until his body was exhausted enough to fall asleep while his mind kept racing.

Nowadays, the bedroom looks alive, personal and homely. His sleeping schedule has improved, you practically demand to keep his balls empty and his belly full at all times if possible and his nightmares are less frequent – less violent, too. He’s almost too scared to even think it, afraid some higher beings could view it as an opportunity to fuck him up all over again, but Simon is happier than he’s ever been.

“Wot’s tha’? Presents? F’whom?”

The way you jolt and scramble on the carpet like a frantic, tiny rodent as soon as he speaks up with his gravelly baritone voice, has him crack a boyish smile, and he watches as you try to hide whatever it is you’re trying to wrap in colourful paper by throwing your whole body on top of it like a dragon hoarding its treasure.

Goofy woman. His goofy woman, though.

“Don’t look! Don’t look, Simon!” You whine as you blindly reach for a large shopping bag to cover the stuff that’s still unwrapped haphazardly while Simon snorts in amusement, eyebrows raised as he keeps watching you struggle.

He doesn’t care for presents; would rather not have you get him anything, actually, because he already feels like you’re doing way too much for him, being too good. Simon is absolutely satisfied with having you wake up in his arms every lazy Sunday or even when you’re on ops together, when he sneaks into your cot for a secret cuddle session while Soap or Gaz are on guard duty. Having you in his life like this is everything he could’ve ever wished for.

He did buy you a bunch of presents, though. They’re still hidden in his office on base; an array of stuff you’ve mentioned liking or wanting to buy over the course of the year. Bloody hell, he almost bought you a German Shepherd puppy, like your first dog, the one you’d told him about some night a long while ago on guard duty, but Price managed to talk him out of it. Someday, though.

“I’m not even lookin’,” he chuckles, rounding the bed to approach you, “c’mere a moment.”

And before you can protest, Simon wraps both arms around your midriff and yanks your body off the ground with a playful growl while you squeal and flail a little, knowing fully well what he’s about to do.

“N-No–!” You shriek and laugh when Simon throws you on the bed effortlessly and watches you bounce on the mattress before he’s on the bed in a split-second, wrestling you onto your back while you stop putting up a fight, knowing fully well how easily he can manhandle you anyway.

“Gotta put more bite into it, bunny,” he taunts with mirth gleaming in his obsidian eyes while he pins your wrists above your head with one mammoth hand, “You’re an easy target.” He clicks his tongue mockingly, shaking his head.

Your chest is rising and falling with deep breaths as you gaze up at him. “Only for you, though.”

“Aye,” he agrees, leaning down while his free hand slips beneath your sweater to tickle your stomach, “only f’me, bunny.”

Simon keeps his focus on the steady, harsh thud, thud, thud, thud of the headboard knocking against the bedroom wall instead of the keening, breathy moans you’re making underneath him. He must concentrate on anything but you. Otherwise, he would’ve shot his prodigious load into the condom right after rolling the bloody thing down to the base of his cock and slowly sinking into your welcoming, warm cunt.

Meanwhile, you’re meekly pawing at his sweat-slicked chest, flexing shoulders and bunching biceps, needing to feel more of him while he’s already covering your body with his massive frame; fucking you in a steady, sensual rhythm while he’s got you folded up in a mating press.

Your legs are shaking, your mind already scrambled and gooey, as Simon keeps making you cum on his cock, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of your body, unable to even writhe beneath him from overstimulation as he keeps you pinned to the mattress. You can feel how your syrupy slick is gushing and dripping down your crack and onto the bed sheets while his cock keeps stretching and rutting into your fluttering walls.

“C’mon, bunny, one more f’me, yeah? Be my good girl, gimme one more.” His voice is so rough yet honeyed and soothing in your ear; it makes your skin pebble with goose flesh, your nipples peak almost painfully as his scarred chest brushes over them with each deep grind of his powerful hips, your sopping, gummy walls rippling around his fat cock when another climax starts building up low and intense in your belly.

“Come with me,” you whine with hiccupping breath as your nails dig into his biceps and the muscles in your legs start burning with the ongoing stretch, “Fuck, pleeease–!”

Simon snarls at your desperate plea and swallows your whorish sounds by crushing his lips on yours in a passionate, sloppy kiss as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, determined to feel you cum around his cock one more time before his own release crashes over him.

The steady thud, thud, thud turns into a louder, more rapid thudthudhuthudthudthud as he grunts and moans roughly against your lips; breaths mingling and saliva mixing as he fucks you into the mattress until it feels like he’s in your guts, choking your throat as you’re chanting his name, head tipped back against the pillows, baring your throat to him, and as the feral dog he is, he bites down, sucks your sweaty skin into his mouth with a guttural groan until he feels your pussy gripping his throbbing cock like a vice, rippling and convulsing with your orgasm.

That’s when Simon lets go and thrusts his prick so far into your perfect cunt that, in the back of his rotten mind, he’s sure it would’ve been a hole in one if it wasn’t for the bloody latex he’s wearing when he finally pumps his cum into the rubber with several long throbs.

His massive body is trembling with the intensity of his release as he licks and laps along the length of your throat, soothing his bite mark and his own need to burrow himself inside your body as the urge to be as close to you as physically possible is slowly overtaking his senses again.

“Love you, bunny,” he murmurs against your skin, still grinding his softening cock into your pliant pussy while you go limp in his embrace, “I love you.”

Your eyes have fluttered closed in bliss as you take it all and relish his ministrations. Always so soft and needy afterwards; it makes your heart swell and burst with love and devotion. You cup his face and pull him up to your face; you nuzzle your nose against his and give his lips a chaste kiss before tucking his face into the crook of your neck. His chest rumbles and vibrates against yours as he releases your legs from his grip and lets you stretch them out with a slight wince.

Despite his size, he slumps down on you like a weighted blanket. “How much does Santa pay for parking?” he murmurs into your ear, his voice so gruff, the words are barely audible.

“You can’t be serious right now, Si.” Your eyes crack open and you turn your face to glance at him, but his eyes are closed, his lips pursed as if he’s holding back a smirk. You huff through your nose; he’s never looked so handsome.

“Nothing, it's on the house.”

[onlyhereforthestories]

Football Cookie! (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Day 13 wooooo. I actually think the titles are becoming the hardest part. This one suckssssss. But enjoy the story again was a fun one to write.

The kitchen was alive with the scents of vanilla and cinnamon, the hum of soft holiday music playing in the background and the main kitchen lights were bright overhead.  Alexia stood across from you, her gaze fixed on the recipe card perched precariously against a jar of sugar. A recipe she had printed out because last time you had baked together her phone had ended up in the batter and she had to get a new one.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her brows furrowed in concentration. “Alright, so we need flour, sugar, eggs…” she murmured, tapping the card lightly as she spoke.

“Relax, chef,” you teased, nudging her elbow as you poured flour into a mixing bowl. “We’re baking cookies, not preparing for the Great British Bake Off.”

She grinned, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, but these are cookies for the team,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “They’ve got to be perfect.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by her determination. “Alexia, we’re literally handing out sugar-loaded, frosting-covered holiday treats. If they’re anything short of perfect, I’m sure they’ll forgive us.”

Alexia chuckled, shaking her head. “Okay that might be true. But if any of these cookies come out burnt or misshapen, I’m blaming you.”

With a mock gasp, you placed a hand over your heart. “I see how it is. Throw me under the bus for a few crooked gingerbread arms, huh?”

Laughing, she leaned over to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Alright, alright, team effort. Let’s make these cookies the best Barca’s ever seen.”

Together, you began mixing up the dough, following the recipe step-by-step. It seemed simple enough, but with Alexia’s competitive spirit, each time you slowed down or tried to shake your aching hand out she was on you. Like in a game if you jogged too slowly back to position, she gave you a look or said your name with that tone, making you speed back up or carry on despite the soreness taking over your palm.

When the dough had been mixed and kneaded, it was set in the fridge to chill. You were about to take a seat at the island when you heard the clearing of a throat. “Don’t even think about it. We need to clean this mess before the dough is ready to roll. And if I’m cleaning then you are too.” You knew she was joking with you slightly, and if you needed to sit, she wouldn’t actually make you get up to clean. But you also knew she would clean now, and you would never let her do that alone.

After cleaning the mixing mess, the dough was chilled. You both began rolling it out on the counter, dusting the surface with flour to keep it from sticking. Before long, flour was everywhere once again, on the counter, on your clothes, and even in your hair.

“This is why we should have left the cleaning till after we were done making. Now we are just going to have to clean up the mess we just have again.”

Alexia held up a handful of flour, a mischievous look on her face.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

With a smirk, she tossed it in your direction, leaving you dusted in a cloud of flour. You sputtered, reaching out to grab a handful of flour in retaliation, but she quickly ducked out of range, laughing.

“Alexia Putellas, you’re asking for it,” you said, also laughing as you tossed a little flour back at her. Before long, you were both covered in it, giggling like kids as the kitchen transformed into a powdered winter wonderland.

Once you’d both called a truce and brushed as much flour off as possible ready to sweep and hoover up later, you returned to the task at hand. Alexia grabbed a variety of cookie cutters, stars, trees, snowflakes, even one shaped like a football. She handed you the football cutter with a grin.

“Thought it’d be fitting,” she said, winking.

You smiled, pressing the cookie cutter into the dough. “And here I thought you’d want them all to look like trophies.”

She rolled her eyes, though you could see the amusement dancing in her gaze. “Trophies are great, but it’s much more about being part of the team and playing the sport we love, right?”

She was very right, and you nodded along to what she said sending her a smile at the sentiment.

With the cookies cut out and spread onto baking sheets, you slid them into the oven and set a timer, giving yourselves a well-deserved break. As you waited, you leaned against the counter with Alexia, both of you sipping on mugs of mulled wine you’d set up to heat earlier. With the sweet smell of the cookies baking filling the air, the comfort of Alexias presence next to you and your fingers wrapped around the warm mug, you couldn’t dream of a better place to be.

“So,” you said, nudging her slightly, “any predictions on which of the team is going to be most impressed with our masterpiece cookies?”

Alexia grinned. “Oh, I can already see Patri’s face lighting up. She’s got a serious sweet tooth. And Clàudia? She’ll love anything we give her, but I think the football cookies might be a hit with her.”

“Good point,” you said, picturing the reactions of your teammates. “Ingrid will probably love the fact that we’re even doing this at all. Though she’ll probably tease you if they’re not perfect.”

Alexia laughed, rolling her eyes. “Let her. I’ll just make sure to give her one of the best-looking ones.”

When the timer chimed, you and Alexia excitedly pulled the trays of cookies from the oven, marvelling at how they’d turned out. For the most part, they were solid, a little uneven here and there, but golden brown and delicious looking. Some had spread into oddly shaped blobs, though, making both of you burst into laughter.

“I think this one was supposed to be a snowflake,” you said, holding up a misshapen cookie that looked like a lopsided star.

Alexia snorted, taking it from you and giving it a look of mock admiration. “A work of art.”

As you let the cookies cool, you both began preparing the frosting and decorations. Alexia was surprisingly meticulous, carefully spreading an even layer of white frosting on each cookie before adding red and green sprinkles.

You, on the other hand, went for creativity over precision, drawing little designs on the cookies with the icing, though some of them were less successful than others.

After a while, you noticed Alexia had gotten quiet, focused intently on one cookie. She was decorating a soccer ball-shaped one, adding a tiny Barca logo in the middle with red and blue icing. Her tongue poked out slightly as she concentrated, and you couldn’t help but smile at how serious she looked.

“Taking cookie decorating to a whole new level, are we?” you teased, leaning over to get a closer look.

She grinned, holding up her creation. “Look at this! Barca’s newest mascot. Cookie edition.”

You chuckled, admiring her work. “I love it, I think we should keep this one for us. You’re really putting your heart into this, aren’t you?”

Alexia shrugged, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. “Well, it’s just nice to do something special for everyone, you know? I want them to know I appreciate them. I thought maybe this would be a fun way to show it. It been a long season so far and I haven’t been able to help on the pitch recently.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at her words, touched by how much she cared, not that you didn’t already know this but still hearing her say it out load to you warmed you. “They’re lucky to have you. I’m lucky to have you. And for what it’s worth, I think they’ll definitely feel the love.”

Alexia smiled, a soft, contented look in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

When all the cookies were finally decorated, you surveyed the results. Stars with sparkly sugar, Christmas trees with green frosting, footballs, and even a few gingerbread players. Some of the cookies were a bit unique, but they were unmistakably festive, and you could feel the holiday spirit.

Alexia stepped back, admiring the table full of treats. “Okay, I think we did pretty well,” she said, pride in her voice. “Ready to deliver these?”

Later that evening, you both arrived at the training facility for the Christmas meet up, carefully carrying trays of cookies wrapped in cellophane and tied with red and green ribbons. The team was in for a surprise, and you couldn’t wait to see their reactions.

As you walked in, Patri spotted you both and immediately called out, “Are those cookies?”

Alexia grinned, holding up the trays. “Homemade, just for you guys.”

The team gathered around, curious and excited as Alexia began handing out cookies. Patri’s eyes lit up as she picked one of the brightly frosted stars, immediately taking a bite.

“This is amazing!” she exclaimed, mouth full. “Who knew you were a baker, Alexia?”

Clàudia grabbed a football cookie as you had predicted. “Look, it’s a Barca cookie!”

Everyone laughed, the festive mood spreading as they admired the various shapes and designs. Even Mapi, who usually had a playful, teasing side, looked genuinely touched as she picked out a perfectly decorated snowflake cookie.

“Not bad, chef,” she said to Alexia with a wink, taking a bite. “I’m impressed.”

Alexia cowered a little under the praise, rubbing the back of her neck. “It was a team effort,” she said, nodding in your direction.

The team continued to snack and laugh, breaking into conversations about holiday plans and favourite Christmas movies. In the midst of the busy season, this small gesture brought everyone together, giving you all a moment to relax, laugh, and enjoy the holiday spirit.

As the evening wound down, Alexia slipped her hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for helping me do this. I think it turned out even better than I’d imagined.”

You smiled, leaning into her. “I’d bake cookies with you any day.”

[anthonys237thfreckle]

i need need need headcanons for anthony with a gf who’s like got a career in STEM and she’s super smart and as an actor he’s amazed by her lmao.

this is so cute! thanks anon

I’m looking for a woman in STEM - Anthony Ramos x F! Reader

prompt: headcanons for Anthony who’s girlfriend is in STEM - i’ve picked biomed for a degree since my mom wanted me to do biomed in high school

TW: mentions of academic stress and panic attacks, mention of drugs used in medicine, mention of mental illness

🔬 when you both first met, and he first asked for where you graduated from, let me tell you - mans did NOT expect you to say ‘Cambridge’

🔬 ‘Oh, so like Cambridge College in Massachusetts?’

🔬 This man omg

🔬 When you said ‘No, England’ he felt goosebumps cause like ‘geez louise CAMBRIDGE?’ and when you casually said you did biomed he was like ‘wait what-’

🔬 ‘Me? Oh, I did Musical Theatre’ he says matter of factly, and you’d add ‘Oh, I played piano when I was in elementary-’

🔬 You’d be the definition of a perfect golden child. He knows that couldn’t have been easy

🔬 When you two do start dating, he’s always bragging ‘Oh my girlfriend does lab research for this new supplement for this drug for schizophrenia in children-’ HE’S A PRO YAPPER. Especially in interviews.

🔬 He’s so proud of everything you’ve done - doing medicinal research at NYMC (New York Medical College)

🔬 Maybe in the winter as you two are baking (you always make sure the measurements are perfect, never letting him measure anything out lol) he always says baking is an ‘art’

🔬 ‘Actually babe, it’s chemistry’ you’d chuckle, taking a bite out of some gingerbread cookies, and ever since, he’s jokingly kept a lab coat and goggles and chides you for ‘not tying your hair in the lab’.

🔬 You’d tell him about how hard high school and college was for you, having to get a scholarship, going to British private schools because the medicine industry is mad competitive and honestly, you need to show something off in your application.

🔬 You’d tell him how even though you did Cambridge IGCSE and A level courses all throughout high school, it was no match for what England had in store for you - panic attacks became a weekly thing.

🔬 I mean, you did Pure Math, Biology, Chemistry and Psychology A and AS levels for gods sake - its an absolute mindfuck.

🔬 He’s always there to reassure her how smart she is and that she’s human no matter what - that college is over, and the drug trials will end up great, and a bunch of kids will get some damn good medication.

🔬 He LOVES it when you come watch his shows and movies. It means the absolute world to him.

🔬 Soon, he kind of drifted away from theatre after Hamilton, and started in film, and would always get super excited whenever he’d get some remotely science-y role.

🔬 Like in In Treatment, he’d come to you for help for some advice on his role, on some deeper level analysis (not as deep as an actual therapist guys, just a psych student level) and you’d be squealing with pride when you see him on TV.

🔬 And when he got into the more Sci-Fi movies like Transformers, he’d tell you ‘it’s not that deep, baby.’ whenever he’d catch your brows furrow in confusion at the misuse of a niche scientific term

🔬 He’d be so happy when he landed Twisters, even though you weren’t a meteorology student, your use of organic chemistry would def have some revelations when watching Kate use some form of polycarbonate.

🔬 ‘they’re right! they use silver iodide for cloud seeding!” you’d giggle.

🔬 affectionately calls you ‘nerd’ all the time.

— for anyone not british, igcse is from grades 9-10 and a levels are a bit like AP! but like they have a lot of depth. you’re not expected to do more than three.

[yerimbrit]

[flufftober day 20, wc: 631] - gingerbread man : k. minjeong

“AREN’T GINGERBREAD MEN A CHRISTMAS THING?” was what you asked your girlfriend when she suggested making them. it’s the middle of october, halloween hasn’t even happened yet, and minjeong wants to make gingerbread men.

you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t interested, though—you’re not one to skip out on something just because it’s not winter. that, is loser behavior. and you (contrary to minjeong’s beliefs) are not a loser.

the process of baking them goes well, because you and minjeong have baked together on multiple occasions, but your real confusion comes when she starts decorating the gingerbread man like a… a christmas gingerbread man. “i thought it was autumn.”

“y/n,” she rebukes, “are you complaining after you’re the one who agreed?”

“no, ma’am,” you deflect, “i’m just curious about your seasonal tastes.”

minjeong doesn’t answer after that, focusing on adding the face with a thin-cut piping bag. the finished product of the one cookie turns out to be one of those generic gingerbread men, with a white outline of its sleeves and face, and a green bowtie and red buttons. once she dots the last button, she looks up at you and grins, “are you ready?”

you tilt your head, confused. “for what, exactly?”

the girl grabs the cookie, staring at it for no longer than a few seconds, and then promptly snaps the head off, leaving you horrified. the poor gingerbread man! it hasn’t even seen its first day of joy and whimsy! 

“why!?” you cry out, mourning the cookie whose (two part) body is carried back to the counter. again, your girlfriend doesn’t answer but grabs the piping bag with red frosting. then, she draws what seems to be blood on the edges where it was decapitated.

maybe you are a loser for mourning a gingerbread man. but you have to admit, what she did is pretty funny. and so you burst out laughing, which makes minjeong burst out laughing, and then the gingerbread corpse is left on the counter as you two are on the floor laughing at something extremely absurd. 

the rest of the cookies are decorated in some horror-ish or halloween-esque way, like the usual vampires, werewolves, serial killer (with an odd knife-shaped piece of gingerbread), but in the end there ends up being two cookies that resemble you and minjeong. except you’re a vampire, and there’s two tiny red dots on the gingerbread-minjeong’s “neck”. you decided to add those small details after seeing minjeong give gingerbread-you fangs, all for the “shits and giggles”.

she points at the cookie resembling you, giggling, “i think i like this, you, better.”

“excuse me? what, are you into vampires or something?”

“um…”

soon the kitchen becomes a chasing-ground. to be honest, you started the chase for no good reason—that and it’s really fun to tease minjeong. sometimes she makes this super angry face (which was most effective when she went blonde for a few months) and it’s so endearing that you made “annoying kim minjeong” at the top of your daily checklist. once you catch her, she calls a truce and taps out, panting heavily to catch her breath. “vampire-gingerbread-you wouldn’t do this, see?”

“would you like me better if i bit you?” you pant, leaning against the counter next to your girlfriend.

she narrows her eyes at you, eyebrows downturned, “that’s gonna be the start of the zombie apocalypse.”

after a short break, the last three gingerbread are decorated as your friends jimin, aeri, and yizhuo, and into their respective halloween costumes from last year. there’s some more discourse and banter, and then you spend the night watching dramas while eating your gingerbread-friends and talking shit about the antagonist.

“for the record, i think i like gingerbread-you better than you.”

“is that a death wish?”

flufftober masterlist!

a/n : guys there's only 11 more days of october this is actually crazy

[sserpente]

A/N: Can you believe that I couldn’t bring myself to watch the Loki Season 2 Finale more than once yet? Maybe this little piece of fluff will help us heal a little more!

Words: 837 Warnings: HEAVY SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON 2 FINALE, fluff

Christmas felt off. Yule felt off. You’d set up your tree, you’d decorated, you’d bought all the Christmassy food including half a dozen bottles of mulled wine and you were listening to Christmas music non-stop. None of it worked. Something was missing. Someone.

The promise that had hung from Loki’s lips remained heavy and it had clawed its way deep into your heart. You’d talked about it one night, resting after hunting down an actor-turned-TVA-agent. About your future together. About where you would go and what you would do once all of this was over.

That was before everything fell apart. Before Loki realised that the only way… no, stop.

Right now, you were baking Christmas biscuits—you were forcing yourself to. Christmas music was blasting from your phone in the background, the warm air in the kitchen smelled like vanilla and gingerbread and outside, it was snowing, making you appreciate the warm and flickering candlelight coming from the wreath on the dining table even more. You were supposed to be happy, you ought to be joyful, no? He had sacrificed everything, sacrificed himself in order to protect… to protect… it was all so complex it went above your head. All you knew was that thanks to the cheeky God of Mischief, the multiverse was free.

Thanks to him, you were alive and well, thanks to him you could live a life you’d always dreamed of having. And yet, it meant nothing without him. And yet, all you wanted to do was to break down, ram your fists into the ground over and over, and wail for the loss of your one true love.

Yule, Christmas, whatever you wanted to call it, wasn’t the same if the one person you wanted to spend it with was gone. But you knew he could see you. You knew he was watching over you. And it wouldn’t be fair to let him see your grief after what he’d done for you all.

So you swallowed it down, again and again, and, humming along to the Christmas songs, focused all of your attention on the cookie batter. It was his favourite kind. The only kind you’d be baking this year.

“Hmm… this does smell delicious. I do hope they’re all for me…”

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you flipped around, flour landing everywhere around you in the process like a smoke cloud.

For a moment, you simply stared at him, lips parted, eyes filling with tears. “Please… please tell me you’re real.”

Loki smirked, extending his arms—a smug invitation for you to hug him. “Why don’t you find out, love?”

It was all he needed to say. You all but flung yourself into his arms, face pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. No illusion. No duplicate. Him. He was actually here.

“Loki… oh gods, Loki…” The tears came before you could stop them. Worsening your sight and making you sob, you hugged him so tightly you feared to cut off his air supply. “But… how… how? How is this possible?”

“It appears that not only have I become the new temporal loom but… my powers have been feeding on the multiverse and vice versa. I became stronger and stronger until I realised I would be able to move around within it freely. I tested it, carefully, for what felt like an eternity until I was sure the threads of all the realities wouldn’t snap on me.”

“So… you’re saying the entirety of the multiverse is still flowing through you right now?”

“It is indeed. You just can’t see it.”

“You’re not going to… explode on me, right?”

“And turn into golden glitter?” He lifted your chin up, smirking and you chuckled but when his smile faltered, yours did too.

“W-what?”

“I’m sorry.”

You frowned. “For what?”

“For leaving you. For being the reason you cry yourself to sleep at night.”

Once again, your heart dropped to your stomach. “You… know?”

“Of course I do.”

“I was trying to hide it so hard…” Loki wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb, a gentle smile tugging on his thin lips.

“I know,” he said, pressing you close. “I came here as soon as I could to be sure it would be safe to do so.”

“You… haven’t seen anyone else yet? What about Mobius?”

“Mobius is with his family, setting up a Christmas tree with Jetski decorations.”

You giggled.

“No. You were the most important. And I want to spend Christmas with you just like I promised I would. And I see you have already made sure to set the mood.” He looked around, noting all the decorations around you.

Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. “There’s no Christmas mood without you.”

Loki pulled you back toward the door threshold leading to the living room. You looked up at him, gaze wandering up to where you’d put up the mistletoe. And as far as kisses went… this one was the most magical and wondrous yet.

A/N: I'm really bad at reposting my Insta and Clock App stuff on here too and it's a New Year's resolution to change that next year so that you guys will be up to date as well but basically... I've published too books in my absence in case you were wondering why it got so quiet, lol. Aaaand I'm currently working on an English (my first English series!) paranormal Dark Romance series with demons and witches so if that's something you're interested in, do follow along, yes? ♥♥♥ We're all mad here! :D

PS: Loki becoming the wireless battery of the multiverse is my headcanon, thank you.

[igotanidea]

Nutcracker: Dick Grayson x reader

christmas bingo day 5: nutcracker

***

“You know when you said nutcracker this is definitely not what I was expecting….” Y/N muttered looking at Dick, who, grinning like a madman was standing in the middle of the Wayne manor kitchen, dressed in an apron and holding – well, the literal nutcracker.  As in – a kitchen tool.

“Should have known better.” He smiled even wider, causing Y/N to start worrying about his mental health.

“Yeah, I guess I should have known better.” She muttered rubbing her forehead.

“Cas is the fan of ballet, me – not so much” Dick shrugged “besides, if I wanted to spend a few hours with you in a dark room then-“

“Shut up!” she rushed towards him putting a hand on his mouth to stop his babbling “there are kids in this house!”

“Tim is hardly a kid, and Damian-“

“Damian catches up way too fast for a boy his age. And I’m pretty sure you want to avoid the awkward older brother talk with him?”

“Oh sunshine, believe me I’m more than ready for an awkward older brother conversation.” He grabbed her waist and pecked her cheek and before she realised what was happening, she had another white apron tied around her waist.

“Dare I ask-?” she sighed, bracing herself for any crazy idea that might be forming in her boyfriend’s mind

“walnuts. gingerbread.”

“gingerbread?” she repeated, frowning in confusion before it finally hit her “oh no! no! damn it! No way in hell!” instinctively she moved towards the kitchen door, before Dick grabbed her from behind and prevented from escaping his arms.

“It’s a couple bonding exercise!”

“It’s a couple killing practise! Remember what happened last year?! “

“It’s not like I burnt those cookies on purpose! You were extremely distracting with that pout on your face.”

“Can’t remember signing up for a cooking experience with Dick Grayson!!”

“You know that’s actually a nice idea. Maybe I should start my own TV show…”

““you wouldn’t even be able to run a youtube channel-“

“maybe I could juggle oranges while doing a somersault?”

“Oh my god…”

“come on, I am an acrobat, after all.”

“Not the word I would use in this context-“ she rolled her eyes “I’m not baking with you! When Alfred finds out I let you in the kitchen despite my better judgement I’ll -“

“I’ll protect you from Alfred’s wrath” Dick laughed not letting her go. “you’re safe with me baby.”

“He will ban us from the kitchen forever! It’s the only person left in this household that believes I’m sane despite going out with you!”

“Which you are obviously not.” Dick laughed spinning her in his arms and looking at her with the puppy eyes. The expression he worked to perfection during the years. “come on, please… pleeeeaaaassssseeeeeee…….”

“Stop it Grayson! I’m serious… stop it” please stop it, before I give in to your five-year-old antics.     

“Pretty please. Come on, Y/N…. Just say yes.. .It’s gonna be fun I promise…”

 “It’s really not too late to buy the ballet tickets Dick…” she muttered, feeling her resistance breaking despite knowing well enough how the baking experience with Dick Grayson will end.

“That’s for another occasion.”

***

Two hours later, as predicted, kitchen looked like batterfield. Nut shells splattered everywhere, including Y/N’s hair, flour on her clothes that happened to not be covered by the apron and a sticky smudge of spice on her forehead made her similar to a gingerbread man (woman). While she was huffing and puffing making the dough, shaping cookies and decorating them, Dick just sit on the counter watching her with a loving eyes, making a mess and not helping at all. He didn’t even bother to open the over for her, at least not until she almost burned herself trying to balance the quite heavy baking tray in one hand. It was a miracle she survived this.

“couple bonding exercise, my ass.” She hissed, brushing her hair away with a wrist, fairly annoyed that she had to do  all the work.

“I definitely feel bound to you.” He smiled at her, jumping off the counter.

“you didn’t even move a finger-“ before she could finish he cut off her off with the kiss.

“can’t you be original, once?” she scoffed pulling back “cutting off with a kiss is just so predictable, man-like gesture.”

“Can’t blame me. You taste the sweetest.” Dick only laughed in response, wiping off the streak of honey which she was stained with in the corner of her mouth. “Better than the cookies.”

[milfwillgrahamsblog]

ten people i'd like to get to know better

Tagged by: @blushingunderwar (ty!!<3)

Last song: Take it Easy - The Eagles

Favorite color: deep purple

Last book: actually reread The Outsiders again after many years. (still makes me tear up)

Last movie: Bones and All

Last show: Midnight Mass (my obsession with vampires continues)

Sweet/spicy/savory: spicyy, I honestly don’t have much of a sweet tooth. Which is ironic considering I love to bake.

Relationship status: single

Last thing I googled: gingerbread cookie recipes

Current obsession: 80’s movies, collecting vinyls of movie soundtracks that I love, horror comedies, green tea, coffee, always coffee

Looking forward to: Nosferatu by Robert Eggers, final season of Cobra Kai (I’m looking forward to it as much as I am dreading it), working on the next few chapters of my current fics so I can work on a new wip

Tagging: @midnight-in-santa-carla @thinkblotted @berd-alert @enquiringangel @milkbath69 @macchiatosdumptruck @kiefersgrave @dreamyyycatcher @kanescrown @junaslagoon and anyone else who’d like to do it! (no pressure of course)

[razzmatash]

Sugary Sweet Day 5 - Cookies Love and Deepspace Sylus x f!OC 1468 Words Read on Ao3 banner by firefly-graphics

“Where did you get all of these?”

“Some of them are...unique.”

“Have either of you baked before? Besides, it doesn’t always matter what they look like. What matters is how they taste.”

Pausing at the voices coming from the kitchen, Sylus had a quick debate with himself if he actually wanted to step inside to see what was going on. But the chef had found him to let him know that the twins were back in the kitchen and after the last time, no one wanted them in there unsupervised again. However, Calliope was inside so it wasn’t like they were exactly alone and they listened to her. Usually.

He finally stepped into the kitchen when they all fell silent, knowing that was never a good sign with the twins. But he found all three of them focusing on whatever it was they were doing. “What’s going on in here?” he asked, staying in the doorway.

Three heads snapped up at his voice.

“Boss!”

“Sylus! What are you doing here?” Calliope asked, smiling at him. “I thought you were working.”

“I was,” he said mildly. “Until I was cornered by a concerned chef.”

She blinked at him but the twins shared a look over her head. “Huh?”

“We’re not touching anything, boss.”

“Nope. Only the stuff Boss Lady lets us.”

“Then that’s touching something,” Sylus said dryly, leaning against the wall. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“We’re making cookies.”

Three words. She’d only said three words but for some reason he couldn’t wrap his head around them. “Cookies?”

“Yes. There’s an exchange at work and they’re easy to give gifts. I usually make some to give out to the people on the floor and my neighbours.”

“And you’re doing them here why?”

“Your kitchen’s better.”

She said it as if that was completely obvious and yes, it was the truth, but she had come into the N109 Zone to bake? His eyes narrowed. “How did you get here?”

“We got her, boss!”

“She didn’t want to bother you ‘cause you were working.”

Admirable but he would have gotten her. He would have preferred to get her rather than listen to people drone on about meetings and reports of what had been happening in the city. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I wouldn’t have left without saying hi,” Calliope huffed at him. “I’m not that mean.”

He’d like it if she didn’t leave at all.

“Did you want to help us?”

He blinked at the request, not expecting it. The twins were looking at her now and he didn’t need to see their faces to know what their expressions were. “You want me to bake?”

“You don’t have to. You could help decorate them instead if you want.”

He hesitated for a moment. Calliope could keep them in line so he didn’t really need to supervise. What’s more, he still had work to finish and had only stepped away to make sure nothing was going to blow up. He hadn’t anticipated her being here and he didn’t know how long she was going to stay. Or when he was going to see her again since between both of their works and her flurry to get ready for the holidays, it was hit or miss.

The sweet, hopeful smile on her face decided for him and he walked further into the room. “I can stay for a bit,” he said.

The twins moved to cluster to one side of her as he claimed his spot on her other side, soaking in the wider smile she gave him. “Have you baked before?”

“No,” he said honestly. He’d made meals for himself but baking hadn’t seemed necessary at any point. His gaze moved over everything on the counter before he cocked a brow at her. “Do you really need all of this?”

“We’re making different types,” Calliope said, pointing at the different bowls. “Peanut blossoms, snicker doodles, gingerbread brownies, sugar cookies, crinkle cookies, and maybe shortbread if I feel up to it.”

Sylus eyed her for a moment and decided she wasn’t joking. Some of those names did not sound real but she was the expert in holidays, not him.“Do you usually make this much?”

“Yes. I like making them when I have time.”

He’d been in her home often enough that he had no idea how this wouldn’t take all day given the size of her kitchen.

“Which one do you want to make first?”

“Sugar cookies!” two voices chimed.

He flicked a look at the twins before shrugging. “Sugar cookies,” he echoed.

“Those are easy enough,” Calliope said, grabbing a bowl.

The recipe was basic enough but the twins were clearly excited about this and kept asking her questions while she explained what they needed to do.

“Do we need to use the cookie cutters?”

“Could we use a knife instead?”

“You need to actually mix the dough first before you can cut anything,” Calliope said dryly.

Sylus leaned a hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest and levelling a look at the twins. “You’re using the cookie cutters. When was the last time you cleaned them properly?”

“Last time we used them!”

Calliope looked away, turning slightly to him so he didn’t miss the way she pressed her lips together in an effort not to laugh.

“Don’t encourage them,” he muttered.

Eyes bright with laughter met his and he sighed. It was easy to forget his little kitten could be just as chaotic as the twins because she kept it locked up usually. But the more time she spent with him, and them, the cracks in her control were getting wider.

Leaning down, he stole a kiss from her mirthful mouth before turning her back to the bowl. “Give them something to do, kitten.”

She did, passing a bowl to Luke and a rolling pin to Kieran. Her instructions definitely had laughter under them but she managed to not outright laugh at them. When she was done with them, she turned back to him. “Which ones do you want to make now?”

“You’re going to let them do it without watching?”

“If they mess up, I can just make them again.”

That seemed like a waste of time but if she really wanted to make this many cookies, she would have to multitask. “Which ones do you want to make?” he countered, having zero preference when he didn’t know what half of the cookies even were.

She thought about it for a moment. “Probably the peanut blossoms. They need more time to fully cool before they can be boxed up.”

Sylus watched as she grabbed a pair of bowls before plunking one in front of him. He eyed the brightly wrapped items in it. “Kitten?”

“Can you unwrap them for me?” she asked, already adding ingredients to the bowl she had kept. “They’re chocolates. Kisses.”

He picked one up, tugging on the paper sticking out of the top to reveal the chocolate beneath. “All of them?” How many had she bought? When had she bought all of this? Had she brought all of it or had they all gone shopping before getting back to the manor?

“Mmhmm. Any we don’t use we can just eat.”

Unwrapping another, he shifted to press it to her mouth. Big eyes blinked at him from behind her glasses before she let him pop it between her lips. She was going to need the sugar now if they gave any to the twins and he didn’t need her going sour if they got too out of hand.

Before either one of them could go back to their tasks, they heard a snicker from the twins and immediately turned.

“We didn’t do anything.”

He’d believe that when the sun shone in hell. His gaze dropped to the dough that had been rolled out and the haphazard shapes that had absolutely been carved out with knives and not cookie cutters. “What is that?”

“Mephisto!”

“A dove didn’t seem appropriate,” Kieran said, holding up one of the designs.

Calliope huffed out a laugh. “For who? I’m giving them to people I know remember?”

They both stared at her before looking at the cookies. “Aren’t we getting any?”

“I didn’t say you weren’t but if you cut out weird shapes we won’t have enough dough to do enough cookies for everyone.”

The patience in her voice told him she must have been working with children recently.

“What if we had custom designs made?”

“We could have a special batch for us then.”

Sylus tried not to sigh again and made a mental note to find someone to make custom cookie cutters before the twins tried to. If he left it to them, who knew what shapes they’d wind up with.

[inkandtension]

Christmas Night!!

(Pretend it's christmas, cuz I'm gonna be busy then)

lee know x Reader

The holiday spirit filled the house, but there was a heavy tension between you and Minho that even the twinkling lights couldn’t hide. The house was adorned with wreaths and garlands, the faint smell of gingerbread cookies lingering in the air, yet the atmosphere was far from festive. The warmth of the season seemed to struggle against the coldness that had settled between you two, thick and uncomfortable, a silent storm brewing in the air. It had been a long day, one that had started with hope and anticipation but was now punctuated by a heated argument that still lingered, hanging like a stubborn winter chill that refused to dissipate.

Earlier, Minho had snapped at you while you were organizing the Christmas dinner preparations, a task you had taken on with the intent of making everything perfect. The table needed to be just right, the dishes needed to align with the plan you’d meticulously created, and you weren’t going to let anything fall short, especially not on a day like today.

“Y/N, why do you always have to micromanage everyone?” he’d said, his voice edged with frustration as he glanced at you, standing in the kitchen with a pile of recipes scattered around.

“I’m not micromanaging,” you shot back, turning toward him, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m just making sure things actually get done.”

He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe let people handle things their own way for once,” he countered, his voice rising with irritation. “Not everyone wants to follow your checklist.”

The sting of his words made your chest tighten. You didn’t see what the problem was—wasn’t it better to have everything organized, to know exactly what was coming next? “It’s not a crime to want things to be perfect!” you snapped, unable to hold back the frustration that had been building all day. “And it’s not like you’re helping much anyway.”

Minho’s jaw tightened, his normally calm demeanor cracking just enough for you to see the anger lurking beneath the surface. He stood up straighter, his posture rigid. “You act like the world’s going to fall apart if one thing goes wrong,” he said, voice sharp. “Maybe that’s why you’re always so angry.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel, heart pounding in your chest, and walked away. You could hear Minho behind you, but you didn’t turn around. Instead, you retreated to the quiet of the other room, leaving him standing there, his words still echoing in your mind, the warmth of the holiday spirit now cold and distant.

You buried yourself in the evening’s preparations, trying to focus on the task at hand, but it was clear that your short temper had everyone on edge. The clattering of pots and pans, the soft rustle of wrapping paper, and the hum of Christmas music all felt distant, muffled by the tension hanging in the air. It was as if the whole house could feel the weight of your frustration pressing down on everything, from the perfectly arranged decorations to the smell of the food slowly cooking in the oven.

Han, always the optimist, had tried to lighten the mood by offering to help with the table settings. “Hey, do you need a hand with the table?” he asked, a hopeful smile on his face as he gestured toward the stacks of plates and utensils.

You didn’t look up, focusing instead on adjusting the candles just so. Your patience had already worn thin, and the last thing you wanted was someone else intruding on your carefully laid plans. With a sharp exhale, you shot him a glance. “Just let me handle it,” you replied curtly, your voice betraying more annoyance than you intended.

Han blinked, clearly caught off guard by your tone. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded, retreating quietly to another part of the house. The words hung in the air long after he left, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of having pushed everyone away, even though you were trying so hard to control every little detail. It was a frustrating cycle you couldn’t seem to break.

Changbin pulled you aside in the kitchen. “Y/N, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, chopping carrots with a little too much force.

“You’ve been on edge all night,” he said gently. “Is it because of Minho?”

You froze, the knife hovering above the cutting board. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Changbin sighed. “You know he cares about you, right? Even if he’s bad at showing it sometimes.”

Later, Hyunjin found you in the living room, staring blankly at the Christmas tree.

“You look like you’re plotting someone’s death” he said, sitting down beside you.

“I’m not plotting anything,” you muttered.

“Is this about Minho?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

You hesitated before nodding. “We just… I don’t know. He makes me so angry, but I hate that we’re like this tonight of all nights.”

“He’s been looking at you all evening,” Hyunjin said, smirking. “Like a kicked puppy.”

You glanced toward the kitchen, where Minho was talking to Felix. Sure enough, his eyes flicked toward you, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face.

When the time came for the annual Christmas tradition, the air shifted. Normally, it was Chan who read the Bible verses, his deep voice would fill the room with a reverent calm. But this year, Felix had asked to take over.

“I’m feeling festive,” Felix had said with his signature grin.

Everyone gathered in the living room, and the couch filled quickly. The boys left the loveseat open, clearly a setup.

Before you could argue, Hyunjin grabbed your arm and guided you toward the seat. “Just sit here for a second.”

Minho was already sitting there, and your brows furrowed. “I’ll sit somewhere else.”

“There’s no other space,” Jeongin said innocently, though his grin gave him away.

Reluctantly, you sat down next to Minho, keeping as much distance as the couch would allow. The others pretended not to notice, though their smug glances said otherwise.

You glared at him, but you had no choice.

“Move closer,” Jeongin said, grinning. “There’s no room for the Holy Spirit here.”

The warmth of his body so close to yours should have been reassuring, but it only served as a constant reminder of everything unresolved between you. The words you hadn't said, the argument that still lingered, and the silence between you that had stretched on far too long.

Felix continued reading in his usual calm voice, starting with the story of Mary and Joseph traveling to Bethlehem. The quiet, serious tone in his voice created a rare moment of peace. You let yourself relax, the familiar words washing over you.

As he continued, you felt Minho shift beside you. The movement was subtle, but you couldn't ignore it—the way his posture seemed to adjust, as if trying to give you more space, or maybe trying to reach out without saying a word. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him glance at you, his gaze softening when it landed on your face.

Instead, you forced your eyes to the flickering lights on the Christmas tree, anything but him. It wasn’t just about the argument anymore—it was about how he knew you. How he understood the little things that bothered you, the things you didn’t say aloud, the way your thoughts could spiral, and how one careless word from him could keep you up at night, overthinking everything.

You couldn’t just forget that, couldn’t let it go. The fact that he knew exactly how much those little details could unravel you made it harder to breathe in the moment.

After a while, Felix and Hyunjin stood off to the side, pulling makeshift costumes together—Felix with a white sheet tied like a toga, and Hyunjin with a blue blanket draped awkwardly over his shoulders. Neither had ever done a skit before, but this year, it was special.

“Everyone, settle down!” Chan announced, trying to contain his grin. “For the first time in Skzmas history, Felix and Hyunjin proudly present… their skit, which they apparently worked hard on....”

The boys clapped and cheered.

Felix stepped forward, clearing his throat. “Uh, hi. I’m Gabriel, angel extraordinaire.” He struck a dramatic pose, pretending to fluff wings that didn’t exist.

Hyunjin followed, tugging at the blanket draped over his head. “And I’m Mary… the main character.” He batted his lashes, smirking.

“Alright, let’s do this!” Felix declared, pointing a finger at Hyunjin.

Felix dramatically “floated” across the room, flapping his arms like wings.

and then,

Felix���s voice broke the tension, but not in the way you expected.

“Mary! Ayo, babygirl!”

Jeongin narrated "angel gabriel appears before Mary!"

You blinked, your head snapping toward him.

Hyunjin blinked at him, putting his hands on his hips. “Who even are you?”

Felix gasped, clutching his chest. “Chill, I’m Gabriel. Top G of the angels. God sent me to tell you that, like, you passed His vibe check, he heard you simping for him through your prayer and he's feelin' ya.”

Jeongin narrated "Gabriel explains the situation to Mary."

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes suspiciously, stepping back. “Sounds sus. Why would God send you to me?”

Jeongin narrated "the Mary, not beleiving him, gave him the side eye."

Felix threw his hands up. “Because, babygirl, you’re a real one. The top tier, lowkey queen vibes, main-character energy.” He paused for effect, then pointed at Hyunjin dramatically. “You’re gonna have a baby. And not just any baby. His name will be… Jesus.”

Hyunjin gasped, staggering back, almost falling, like he’d been hit by a plot twist. “What?! How can this be? I told God my body count would be zero!”

The room erupted into laughter, Seungmin hiding his face in his hands while Han slid off the couch in hysterics. Even Minho, sitting quietly in the corner, couldn’t help but chuckle.

Felix waved his hand dismissively. “Relax, queen. God’s got this. It’s His plan. Just vibe with it.”

Hyunjin sighed dramatically, tossing the blanket over his shoulder. “Fine, I’ll do it. But tell God He owes me big time for this one.”

Felix gave a thumbs-up. “Say less.” He turned to the rest of the room, spreading his arms wide.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how Mary became the OG momfluencer of Bethlehem.”

“We're all going to hell!”

You all laughed, and by habit, you pushed Minho like you always do when you laugh, and when you both realized, you both stopped laughing and turned your head away.

The skit ended with thunderous applause, Chan clapping so hard his hands turned red.

“That was… something,” Minho muttered, shaking his head with a smirk.

“I can’t believe we’ve never done this before,” Jeongin said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

Hyunjin bowed extravagantly. “Thank you, thank you. I’m available for future performances.”

“And I’m quitting my angel gig,” Felix added, grinning. “Too much pressure.”

As the room dissolved into chatter and teasing, Chan nudged Minho, whispering, “Now’s your chance. Talk to her.”

The laughter died down as everyone’s attention shifted to you and Minho. You glanced at him, your stomach twisting with nerves.

Minho sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You blinked, squinting your eyes. “For what?”

“For being a jerk earlier,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I know you’re just trying to make everything perfect, and I shouldn’t have pushed your buttons like that, especially when I know how much it matters to you, please, I'm sorry”

You felt your chest tighten. “I’m sorry too. I know I can be... intense sometimes. I just wanted everything to go right, and I took it out on you.”

“Finally!” Han threw a pillow at him. “Now kiss or something so we can get back to the fun.”

Minho rolled his eyes but leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against your lips, the warmth of his breath lingering as he hesitated. His lips hovered just above yours for a moment, his eyes flicking from your face to your lips, as if unsure of how to make up for the tension that had been building between you two.

He sighed softly, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression softening. "I’m sorry," he murmured, he gently cupped your face, his thumb grazing your cheek in small, soothing motions.

“Aww!” Hyunjin squealed. “It’s a Christmas rom-com ending!”

Seungmin crossed his arms. “They were better when they were fighting.”

The laughter started up again, filling the room with warmth.

As the house settled into quiet, you and Minho found yourselves in bed, tangled up in each other’s arms.

“Thanks for apologizing,” you murmured, your head resting on his chest.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Thanks for not throwing something at me during dinner.”

He ran his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle. “Thanks for not staying mad at me.”

You smiled against his shirt. “I think the boys would have locked us in a room if we hadn’t made up.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and comforting. “Probably. They’re a bunch of meddlers.”

You tilted your head up to look at him. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad we did.”

The skit was still fresh in your minds, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how ridiculous and funny Felix and Hyunjin had been.

“Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect,” Minho said, his voice light, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your back. “But that was… something else.”

You snorted softly, recalling Hyunjin’s dramatic entrance as Mary. “I thought Hyunjin was gonna trip over his blanket at some point. It looked like he was about to take a nosedive every time he moved.”

Minho laughed quietly, his chest vibrating beneath your ear. “Felix was way too into it though. I think he genuinely believes he’s Gabriel now. He asked us to wait for him to start a sermon tomorrow.”

You laughed, nestling further into him. “I mean, he did make a pretty convincing angel. I’m sure he’s got the followers to prove it.”

“I think Hyunjin could be the real star of the show, though,” Minho added. “Mary was too much. He had the dramatic flair down to a science.”

“Right? I didn’t know he could pull off being that sassy,” you said, laughing softly. “And then there was the part where he said, ‘How can this be? I promised Him my body count would be zero.’ I couldn’t even breathe from laughing so hard.”

Minho chuckled, his arms tightening around you. “That was definitely the highlight of the skit. Hyunjin’s delivery was perfect.”

“Let’s not forget Jeongin, he wasn’t even a part of it!”

You both laughed, then paused, the warm, comfortable silence hanging between you. You let your fingers trail up and down his chest.

“I’m glad they did it,” you said quietly, looking up at Minho’s face. “It really lightened the mood.”

Minho kissed your forehead, his voice soft. “Yeah, I think we needed it after everything earlier. It’s nice to see everyone laughing.”

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “Yeah, we do need moments like that. I’m happy I have you here for stuff like this.”

Minho’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing along your skin. “I’m happy you have me too.”

There was a pause, and then Minho’s lips curled into a teasing smile. “But, I gotta admit… I do kind of regret not taking Gabriel's advice."

You raised an eyebrow, confused. “What are you talking about?”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know, ‘Babygirl, chill. You passed God’s vibe check.’ ”

You groaned, burying your face in his chest, embarrassed. “You’re impossible.”

Minho’s laughter was warm, and you couldn't help but smile. “Yeah, I think it’s the best part of Christmas,” he murmured, pulling you closer. “We all have our weird, funny moments, but we’re always there for each other.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice growing soft. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here with you, Minho.”

His eyes softened, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Me too. Merry Christmas, short fuse.”

“Merry Christmas, stubborn,” you replied, snuggling closer as the snow fell softly outside.

[orions-choker]

Warnings: Oral Sex (F Receiving)

Word Count: 3,253

A/N:( This is the start of A Metallica Christmas Fic Series im doing! I'll be doing all the boys I write for <3 , this is straight up tooth rotting fluff and smut and completely self indulgent)

“Did you want sugar cookies, or chocolate chip?” The sound of her voice twinkled across the small apartment, cutting through the sound of smooth jazz crackling over the speakers. The gentle scratch of the needle against the vinyl making everything sound warm and fuzzy. Her head poked out from around the wall separating the kitchen from the main living area. There, surrounded by an impressive tangle of string lights, was Jason. In all his soft curly haired auburn gorgeousness. His brows furrowed in concentration and his strong jaw locked in place as he maneuvered his fingers through the wires in a less than productive way. “Oh you are making that so much worse.” She laughed

In a few soft strides Y/N was kneeling down in front of him. Her hands moving behind her back to undo the bow holding her apron in place. Gently she reached for the tangle in his hands. He let out a soft groan. “I’m trying my best,” He mumbled as he ran his hands across his face. “Listen when I did this crap as a kid I'm pretty sure the lights were never this tangled.” He complained gently.

Y/N giggled as she settled back on her heels, her fingers working diligently to de-tangle the lights. “I can assure you they were, your parents just dealt with it.” She teased him softly. Her eyes flitted up to take in the cute way his face screwed up in a laugh. “You’re taking it too seriously, if you can't get it it’s not the end of the world Jase” She was more successful in removing the first length of bulbs from the pile.

There was an incredulous look in his eyes, like she had just performed witchcraft right in front of him. “Are you kidding me, I totally like…loosened those up for you.” He huffed as he very gently gathered the lights in his hands, like he was afraid he might tangle them again just from touching them. He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Thanks' baby,” He whispered against her skin.

Playfully Y/N twisted her head to catch his lips briefly. “Of course,” She whispered. “Now if I leave you along with the rest of these, are you going to have another breakdown?” She giggled softly as she pushed herself back up onto her feet. She pulled the apron back over her head to protect his soft oversized sweater, one of Jason’s. “You never answered my question either.”

“I was not having a breakdown,” He said, his voice soft and crackling like a crisp fire. It enveloped her completely, sending tingles down her spine. “Chocolate chip,” He hummed in response. She nodded and leaned down, gently pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and running her hands over his hair to smooth out where he had tied it back out of his face.

With a gentle kiss to his forehead and a promise of, “you got this baby,” She returned back to the small kitchen of Jason’s apartment. Well…it was hardly Jason’s anymore, she had practically moved in at this point, that much was evident by the way her things were scattered across the house, including her various baking utensils that had found their home on Jason’s countertops. She pushed the sleeves of her sweater up as she got to work on her task of cookies.

It had actually been 100 percent Jason’s idea to get festive Not that Y/N was opposed by any means. It was going to be their first Christmas since they started dating, that meant a surprising amount to both of them. So when he asked her to come over and decorate and bake with him, she had immediately taken a trip down to the grocery store to grab all the supplies needed for a full night of baking. Gingerbread and whipped shortbread were already cooling on the kitchen table, filling this house with warm scents of Christmas spice and vanilla.

The tree had already been put up, after about an hour and half of both of them struggling to follow the instructions on where to place each branch. She was pretty sure it was lopsided but Jason told her she was just looking at it wrong. She would ignore the way the angel on the top looked about two seconds away from falling off. It was perfect really.

All that was left to be done was this final batch of cookies. There was flour and dough already caked beneath her nails and living in the soft tresses of her hair, decorating her cheeks in a thin layer. The mess didn’t deter her from the mission of making Jason the best damn chocolate chip cookies he had ever eaten in his life. Yes the recipe was from the back of a Pillsbury package, but they advertised those recipes for a reason, they were good. Plus the secret was to add far more chocolate chips than recommended, by that she meant a whole damn bag.

The soft clinking sounds of her spatula against the metal mixing bowl filled the kitchen. In the living room she could hear the groans of her boyfriend as he dealt with the final decorations, the lights. After that it would be complete, a perfect Christmas scene to live in his house for about two weeks before they would have to take it all down again. That's okay, they would do it together. “You okay Jase?” She called out as she scooped her batter onto the baking sheet.

“I'm fine!” Was the short and strained reply she got. “Love you!” He quickly tacked on at the end, and she couldn’t help but laugh. He never failed to remind her, even when he was knee deep in the most frustrating of tasks. She quickly pushed the baking tray into the oven, bumping the door closed with her hip as dusting her hands off on her apron.

Y/N walked back out to the living room and gasped in soft surprise. He had sure figured it out. Strings of pretty multicolored lights hung from the roof, enveloping the space completely. Jason was standing precariously on the back of the couch with the last set in his hands. A nail sticking out from the corner of his mouth as he finished up his work. “Oh wow…” Y/N gasped softly, her eyes twinkling under the blinking red and green lights. “Jason, it's so pretty.”

He turned to look at her with a dopey grin. “You like it?” he asked, his words slurred slightly by the nail still peeking between his lips. He quickly turned and hammered it into the wall to finish hanging up the lights before he was jumping down to the floor again. “I did a pretty good job I think,” He hummed as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, tugging her into his side.

It was perfect, in the most imperfect way. The wonky Christmas tree, the way the lights hung down at different lengths, two mismatched stockings laid beneath his tv in place of a fireplace. Y/N hooked her arms around his middle as she nuzzled into his side. “You did a wonderful job, babe.” She whispered into his chest. Her hands curled into the fabric of his sweater as he pulled her even closer. Just them,, in the middle of the living room, wrapped in the warm glow of Christmas lights and the soft crackling of old songs. “I love you.”

Jason chuckled gently into the top of her head, burying his face into her hair. “You smell really good,” He mumbled. He pressed a kiss to her scalp. “Those cookies almost done? I'm getting impatient I might have to eat you,” He teased as he leaned in to nip at her ear playfully. His face brightened at the soft giggles she let out, like bright church bells.

“Oh god you are a dork,” She breathed out, shaking her head as she pulled back to look at him. He was…perfect. Her heart swelled at the sight of him. She reached up to tug his glasses off gently, folding them neatly into her hand. “Five minutes, think you can wait that long?” She teased with a kiss to his cheek.

He carefully took his glasses back from her and moved to place them on the coffee table. With a playful groan he conceded. “Yeah, I guess I can wait the eternity of five minutes.” He sighed and sank down into the old worn couch. “I do think I would rather just eat you though,” He hummed thoughtfully before sending a playful wink at her.

A year later and his flirting still had her feeling nervous, he was rarely so forward and she often didn’t know how to handle the attention. Her cheeks flushed and she looked away from him. “Well you can have that too but you have to wait until the oven is off before I burn down your apartment.” She huffed in embarrassment. “Greedy,” She mumbled with a small grin. Quickly before she combusted on the spot she bustled back to the kitchen.

She tidied up the flour that coated about every surface in the kitchen as she waited for the timer to go off with a sudden impatience. She would be lying if she said she wasn't just about ready to jump Jason's bones. Who could blame her, he was so sweet and thoughtful…and probably the prettiest boy she had ever seen. She jumped as the soft ringing pulled her from her thoughts. She was so eager to pull them out she nearly grabbed the pan bare handed. “Shit,” She hissed softly as her fingers barely grazed the hot pan. Quickly she slipped an oven mitt on and ripped them from the oven, tossing them on to the counter and quickly turning off the appliance.

“You okay babe?” Jason asked from behind her, concern evident on his features as he heard her screaming from the other room. His eyes glazed over where she was sucking her thumb into her mouth to soothe the mild burn she had inflicted on herself. “What did you do?” he frowned.

Y/N smiled sheepishly at him. “Forgot that pans right out of the oven are hot,” She joked as she pulled her thumb from her mouth. It wasn’t so bad, just a dull pain beneath her skin. “I may have gotten too excited.” she shrugged. She fumbled for a moment with the tie on her apron before she was tugging it off and throwing it onto the counter. “Now…you said something about eating me?”

A sweet honeyed laugh came from her boyfriend. “Oh, I see what you were excited about, and here I thought you were just enthusiastic about chocolate chip cookies.” He teased. He reached forward, scooping her hips into his hands and tugging her closer. His lips found hers gently, unhurried and lazy as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. A soft content sigh leaving the both of them. With a guiding touch Jason stepped backwards, Y/N nearly stumbling over her feet to chase him. Walking her backwards down the hall to their room. Unable to break apart even for a second.

The sheets were soft against her back as Jason’s heavy hands pushed her down with a delicate tenderness. Her legs hung over the edge of the bed as he dropped down to his knees before her. His head came to rest on her thigh as he stared up at her through his lashes. Slowly Y/N leaned up onto her elbows to look down at him. The soft lighting pouring in from the hall danced across his strong features, softening him. “You’re so pretty between my legs,” She whispered softly.

Jason smiled and nudged his nose into the flesh of her inner thigh, his fingers pushing up underneath the hem of her skirt to bunch it around her waist. “Glad you think so, it’s my favorite place to be.” He mumbled, his lips brushing against her skin sending a sharp chill traveling up each vertebrae of her spine. He inhaled deeply, his hands shifting and pushing her thighs up slightly. Her legs hooked around his shoulders, the backs of her knees resting comfortably against his shoulders. “Can I?” He hummed.

A tender smile crossed Y/N;s face. She shifted her weight onto one of her arms to free her other hand. She reached down and tugged his hair from the tie holding it back from his face. She ran her fingers through the flattened curls appreciatively, tangling in tight against his scalp as she tugged him closer to her heat. “Please,” She whispered breathily in response.

The movement elicited a soft groan from Jason. He leaned in and pressed his nose against the dampening fabric of her panties, his tongue coming out to press flat against her. She sucked in a sharp breath at the contact. Her head fell back, tossing the tresses of her hair down her back, pooling against the bed. “You always smell so good, baby,” He mumbled against her.

She winced in embarrassment. She knew there was no reason to be, he was obsessed with her, still she couldn’t help the soft curling of self consciousness that took hold of her brain. “God, Jase’ don’t say shit like that.” She whined, her nails scratching light against his skull. He nuzzled into her a little more aggressively. His fingers slid up across her thighs before grabbing at the elastic of her underwear, playfully pulling them back to snap against her skin.

“Why not,” He hummed, grinning against her as her breath hitched at the sharp sting against her skin. Her hands tugged rougher at his hair in retaliation, a cute pout pulling at her lips. “I mean it, I’d fucking live right here if I could…forever.” He groaned. He hooked his fingers underneath the fabric and pulled away from her just long enough to tug the offending barrier away. She was already dripping wet, sticky as he peeled her panties off her.

As his thick calloused fingers fell against her folds, her arm gave out holding her up. She fell back against the bed once more with a soft sound as he spread her slickness across her skin. He always liked getting a bit too messy. “Oh god, Jase.” Her head tossed to the side as her breathing got heavier, ragged deep breaths forcing her chest to rise and fall in uneven motions. “Quit teasing please, put your mouth on me.” She pleaded.

His laugh was gentle and sweet against her. “I'm getting to it sweet girl.” He huffed, leaning in to blow cool hair across the unbearable heat. Y/N squirmed gently, held only in place by his hands curling around her thighs, resting on the dip between her hips and legs. “Have I ever not given you what you wanted?” He clicked his tongue chastising her playfully.

Y/N parted her lips to clap back at him, but all that left was a needy breathless sigh. Her hands went lax in his hair as he finally closed his mouth around her clit. Sucking it into his mouth gently as his tongue flicked out against her. “Fuck,” She managed out between strangled moans. Fast rough flicks of his tongue just like she liked. Her hips twitched to buck up against him but he pressed her down. This was as much for him as it was for her, he was going to do this how he wanted.

Slowly he tilted his head down further, his tongue moving to press into her hole as he nudged at her clit with his nose. It left his whole face wet, covered in her as he dove in like a man starved. His blunt nails dug into her skin as he groaned against her. It was near impressive how far his tongue could reach inside her. She could feel the combination of his spit and her wetness dripping down her, cooling against her skin and forcing another shiver from her body. Twitching against the sheets with a gasp.

“Jason, god,” She could hardly form a coherent thought let alone sentence. Jason and god, yeah they were the same person right now. She could worship him the way he was lapping at her cunt. Her hands felt weak as she tried to grip onto his curls to steady herself again, but each needy movement of his tongue curling inside her had her melting. “If you keep going I’m gonna come.” She warned him in a soft squeak.

When he pulled back to look up at her she nearly fainted. His face glistened in the low light with her juices, his usually soft eyes dark with something a touch more feral than she was used to. He was breathing heavily, looking almost annoyed that he had to stop. “That's the point,” He managed to force out. “Want you on my tongue, gotta taste you.” With that he was back to needly sucking at her entrance.

How could she possibly argue with that? Her back arched in a shaky movement, less than graceful as he tugged her hips down to press her harder against his face. She wanted to hold him down and grind against his face, but his hands were a constant steady pressure on her hips holding her in place. “Oh, oh, fuck,” She gasped. “Jason I'm so- oh god I'm close.” Her desperate attempts to take in air grew shallow and faster. The hot coil in her stomach wound up painfully tight, threatening to snap at any moment.

Then her thighs snapped closed, bracketing his head between them as she let out a strangled cry of his name. In waves warmth washed over her, full body convulsions forcing her to writhe pathetically on the bed as she came across his needy tongue. His low moan into her sent another spike of overstimulating pleasure to blanket her. She squeezed her eyes shut as he struggled to force air back into her lungs. Finally his movements against her grew nearly painful, tears pricking at the inner corners of her eyes. Gently she pushed against his head to push him away.

Jason took the hint and pulled away, sitting back on his heels. He was panting, a grin on his lips. He swiped her wetness from the corners of his mouth onto his thumb before sucking it into his mouth. “I think you might be sweeter than any cookies,” He hummed as he moved up off his knees to lean over her. His lips pressed against hers so she could taste herself on his lips.

She pulled back with a bright laugh, breathless as she still struggled to catch her breath. “God that was really bad Jason.” She shook her head at his cheesy line. “You’re so lucky I already came because that wouldn’t have done you any favors.” Her arms came up to weakly wrap around his neck, pulling his body on top her her, his full weight like a comforting blanket to steady herself.

He laughed with her, gently easing himself to lay on top of her, pressing his face in between her neck and shoulder. She didn’t care that it was wet and sticky, they could shower later. “Oh come on,” He huffed playfully against her skin, peppering soft wet kisses there. “You love me.”

“Yeah, I do.”

[werepuppy-steve]

the night before christmas

steddie | wc: 1,377 | cw: none | emma's pov

emma gets to meet a very special someone

permanent taglist: @yournowheregirl @judasofsuburbia @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @vecnuthy @scarcrossdlvrs @starrystevie @inairbinad @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual @theheadlessphilosopher @sidekick-hero @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie @corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd

it's a little after midnight for me, so merry christmas to those who celebrate!

The house is silent, save for the clock ticking on the mantle in the living room, dimly lit by the Christmas tree in front of the window, covered in different colored lights and handmade ornaments—some from decades long since passed, family heirlooms handed down, and some more recent. Little ceramic handprints and popsicle picture frames. Reindeer and gingerbread men painted with a toddler's unsteady hand.

The plate of cookies and the glass of milk remain untouched as the occupants of the house sleep soundly in their beds with dreams of sugar plum fairies dancing through their heads.

Snow falls outside in fat flakes, covering everything in a cold, heavy blanket and there's not a soul in sight. It's the night before Christmas and everyone is eagerly awaiting morning to come to see what Santa brought them.

But someone is about to find out ahead of schedule.

Tucked all snug and warm in her bed, five year old Emma Munson snaps awake at the sound of a clatter coming from downstairs.

—

The carpeted runner muffles her footsteps as she carefully walks down the hallway. She can see a light on in the living room from the top of the stairs and she gasps quietly as she crouches down and looks between the bars of the banister.

A lamp is turned on, illuminating a figure dressed in red and white putting presents under the tree.

As quietly as she can, Emma makes her way down the stairs. She doesn’t know if this will put her on the Naughty List or not, but she might not ever get this chance again in her whole life.

“Santa?”

Santa’s hat gets caught on the tree when he jumps in surprise. He struggles with it for a second before fixing it on his head and slowly turning around. He doesn’t look like the Santa in the picture books on her bookshelf, but Emma remembers her daddies telling her that nobody has ever actually seen Santa before so they’re just drawing what they think he looks like.

He’s not round like people say he is, but he’s tall. Almost as tall as her daddies. She doesn’t feel as anxious as before. Her daddies are tall and they make her feel safe, so it has to be the same way with Santa.

With that thought in her head, she takes a confident step forward, wringing her hands in her pajama top nervously.

“Are you really Santa?”

Santa looks a little surprised, like no one has ever asked him that before. After a second, he sits on the coffee table with a light chuckle and pats his knee with a soft look in his twinkling brown eyes.

Emma doesn’t hesitate to run over and climb into his lap, looking up at him in awe.

His beard is as white as the snow outside and soft to the touch. He gives her the same look her daddy Eddie does before he scoops her up and makes her squeal and laugh with kisses all over her face, all soft and happy.

Yeah, it’s definitely the same way with Santa.

“Are you really Emma Louise Munson?” Santa asks kindly, mirth shining in his eyes.

Emma gasps. “How do you know my name?”

Santa laughs again. “Because I’m Santa Claus. How else would I know your name or where you live?”

Emma scrunches her nose and pushes up her glasses. They’re too big for her face still but daddy Steve says she’ll grow into them. She thinks for a minute and then that nervousness returns.

“If you’re the real Santa, does that mean I’m on the Naughty List now and you’ll take my presents away?” she asks in a small voice.

“Of course not, swe–” Santa cuts himself off but he rubs her back comfortingly, like her daddy Eddie does when she’s sad. “I don’t put kids on the Naughty List just for being awake. Here, I’ll tell you what.”

He lifts her off his lap and guides her over to the tree, crouching down in front of it. He picks up a smaller present that’s wrapped in red and white paper with little candy canes all over it. “I’ll let you open one early as a treat.” He boops her on the nose with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle. “As long as you keep it our little secret.”

Emma nods excitedly, her curls bouncing. “Yeah!” she says, a little too loudly, and apologizes when Santa gently hushes her. “Don’t worry, Santa, I’m a great secret keeper. You can ask my best friend, Caleb. One time he spilled red paint on his mom’s white purse and he didn’t want to get in trouble so he said the cat did it.”

Santa raises his eyebrows as she speaks and Emma’s eyes go wide when she realizes she just told Santa Claus the biggest secret she’s ever kept. “Oops. I shouldn’t have said that,” she says quietly.

“Probably not,” Santa says, sounding like he’s trying not to laugh. “But that’s alright, I still trust you to keep our secret.” He motions to the gift in her hands. “Go ahead, open it.”

Emma doesn’t hold back as she excitedly tears at the wrapping paper. She gasps so hard she’s afraid she’ll need her inhaler, but Santa must really be magic because she doesn’t. She gapes down at the pack of modeling clay she remembers putting in her letter to Santa.

“You remembered!”

Santa gives a chuckle that comes from deep in his belly. “Of course I did! You said you wanted it because you wanted to bake like your daddy, but he said you were still too little to go near the oven.”

Emma nods. “Uh-huh!”

She looks down at the clay and rolls her lips inwards, so focused on deciding what she’s gonna make first, that she doesn’t notice Santa glancing up at the top of the stairs and doesn’t hear his quiet, “Oh shit.”

“Alright, kiddo,” Santa says, dragging Emma’s attention back to him. “Other kids still need to get their gifts, too.”

Emma frowns, but nods, holding the clay close to her chest. “You won’t tell my daddies about this, will you?”

Santa ruffles her hair with a gloved hand. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

Emma mimes zipping her lips and locking them and throwing away the key.

“Good girl,” Santa laughs. “Now run along back up to bed, okay?”

“Aw, I don’t get to see you go back up the chimney?”

Santa hefts his toy back over his shoulder and winks. “Santa still has to keep some surprises.”

Emma frowns but nods. She gives him one last hug and then dashes back up the stairs and to her room, quickly trying to fall back to sleep so she can open the rest of her presents in the morning.

—

“Nice going, Santa,” Steve smirks as Eddie sneaks into their bedroom and shuts the door behind him, still in the Santa costume.

Eddie rips off the fake beard and huffs, putting his hands on his knees like he’s just ran a marathon. “That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. She’s gonna be asking to open a present early every year now.”

He takes off the rest of the costume that he was forced to wear for the label’s holiday party. A prank devised by Chrissy because she’s an actual menace to society.

There’s only one man he wants sitting on his lap, thank you very much.

Steve watches from where he’s sat up in bed, sliding an appreciative gaze over his husband, still in the red coat. “I don’t know, baby, this is kinda doing something for me.”

Eddie chokes on his spit and looks back at Steve with wide eyes. “Are you developing a Santa kink? Is that what’s happening right now?”

Steve only throws the blankets off of himself and crawls down the bed toward Eddie, like he’s a tiger stalking his prey.

Eddie holds his discarded clothes in front of him like a shield and slowly walks backward towards their ensuite. “Stevie, please, think about the repercussions. The ramifications this could have–ack!”

He shuts the bathroom door just as Steve pounces, laughter spilling from both of their lips.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 8

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I spend most of Christmas Eve in bed relaxing and catching up on much-needed sleep after days of long, busy shifts at the cafe paired with hours of wedding and party planning, all while trying to stay in contact with my intriguing new phone pal. But much to my dismay, and appreciation, Stella refused to let me stay alone through the night. She insisted I come over for dinner and stay for Christmas. As in her words, “It would be an atrocity for my best friend to spend the holidays alone”. So, I had no choice but to kindly accept her demand. 

As I walk towards the subway station my phone starts buzzing in my jacket pocket. I smile hoping it’s Jensen or Stella, but instead, it’s my boss. I sigh and brace myrself as I step out of the path of fast-passing pedestrians and lean against the brick wall of a fashion boutique. 

“Stewie, Hey!” I answer as brightly as possible.

“Y/N, Hi. I know I agreed to let you have today off, and that still stands. We’re closing soon anyway. But I just wanted to let you know a package got delivered here this morning with your name on it. There something wrong with the mail at your apartment? Your neighbours stealing your packages again?”

“Uh…no. Not that I know of. I didn’t order anything.”

“Ah, well I’ll leave it in my office. You have a key, you can swing by through the back and pick it up whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m actually around the corner right now. Can I swing by now before you close?”

“Sure! I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, Stewie. See you soon!” I hang up and rush down the street in the opposite direction, back towards the cafe. The sign’s already flicked to ‘closed’ when I get there, but there's light on in the kitchen so I go in. 

“Stewie, it’s just me. For the package,” I call out as I walk towards the lit-up kitchen. As I get closer, the smell of fresh bread and cookies overwhelms my senses. “You know we’re closing for two days, right?” I call out as I round the corner into the spacious kitchen.

The short, round balding man, with just a few strands of grey hair, comes into view carrying a tray of shortbread biscuits straight out of the oven. His glasses, sitting on the tip of his nose, are fogged up. “Yeah, yeah. But I got a big family to feed and a tiny kitchen to do it with. I put everything I got into keeping this place open. I may as well make the most of it.”

“Good idea. So, uh, the package?” I ask as I eye off the golden biscuits, shaped like gingerbread men, wreaths, bells and candy canes. My empty stomach growls andI clear my throat to hide it, but, despite his age, old Stewie hears it.

“Help yourself. I can spare a few. Grab a takeaway container. You can even have a loaf of bread, they’ll be done soon…Wife wants me home before dark.”

“I couldn’t. They’re for your family. I’m just here for my package, remember?”

“Listen, I ain’t no Scrooge. I know your measly salary may make you think I am, but I pay you as much as I can. Outside the holidays, we’re barely making rent. Least I can do is give you a few cookies and some bread.”

“Stewie, I know you do your best for this place and all of us. We all know it. But if you insist, I do find it hard to resist your cooking. Rudie’s great, but you’re the master.”

“No need for flattery, kiddo. Go grab your package from my office and I’ll package up some cookies and bread for you.”

“Alright, thanks. You’re the best!” I smile at Stewie as I go into his office. Mamma Jo was his mother, who passed a few short months ago. She was the light of the kitchen whenever she visited to check on things. Stewie runs the place with as much passion as she did, yet he hasn’t baked since she passed, that is, until tonight. I smile, hoping he’s finally finding his passion again. 

I spot a medium-sized cardboard box on the edge of the desk, I shake my head wondering what it could possibly be. Once I get close enough, I read the label. 

To Y/NMamma Jo’s Coffee and Chocolateria204 5th Ave, New York, NY 10019

From Jensen Acklesc/o Management Beverly Hills, CA 90210

I quickly pull my phone out, snap a picture of the parcel and send it to Jensen.

Hey Superstar, this your doing? Thought you were in Texas?

I don’t wait for a reply, I put my phone away and go back into the kitchen with the box tucked under my arm and my overnight bag slung over my other shoulder. Stewie hands me two boxes of warm goods; I don’t look inside but they smell delicious. He looks at me dubiously as I attempt to carry it all.

“How far you headed, Kiddo?”

“Not far, it’s okay. I’ll manage,” I try to assure him, but he sees right through it. He gives me a look to say he doesn’t believe me; it’s the kind of look you would expect from a parent who’s waiting for their child to come clean. “My friend’s place in Lower Manhattan. She and her fiance invited me for Christmas so I wouldn’t be alone. Plus, I’m helping with the wedding planning.”

“If you help me pack all these up,” Stewie says gesturing at the cooling cookies and bread, “and clean up the kitchen. I’ll drive you.”

“I’m happy to help, but you do not need to drive me that far out of your way on Christmas Eve.”

“I don’t endorse free labor, so either you get out of here now, or you stay and help and then I drive you.”

Feeling the strain in my arms already and dreading the walk in the snow, I make a decision. I sigh and put everything down on a clear counter and then start carefully boxing up cookies. Stewie nods and starts packaging the loaves of bread, croissants and other pastries on the other tray. Once we finish packaging everything, I clean the trays, bowls and utensils while Stewie wipes down the oven and benches. Working in perfect harmony, we’re finished in no time.

It takes a few trips to load everything into his delivery van parked in the back alley. Despite his insistence that it’s all for his family, I know he’ll end up sharing with his whole block and it just makes me admire him more. 

After shutting off the lights and locking up, Stewie skillfully navigates out of the alley and out onto the busy street towards Lower Manhattan. I provide directions to the best of my ability, using my knowledge of the few times Nick has driven me with some –a lot of–help from the GPS on my phone. AsI’m looking at the map I notice a text come through from Jensen, but I swipe up quickly to make it go away so I can focus on providing directions. 

After a while, Stewie pulls up in Stella and Nick’s driveway. I thank him sincerely, collect my things and carefully trudge through the light covering of snow to get to the front door. I wave Stewie off once Stella opens the door. I’m instantly welcomed by the warm and enticing smell of roast chicken. 

“I come bearing gifts, Merry Christmas guys!” I say as I signal for Stella to take the boxes of treats. She eagerly takes them as she eyes the other box at the same time. Luckily, though the smell distracts her and she hurries into the kitchen to put the boxes down and peek inside. 

Nick peeks over her shoulder. “Sourdough? That’ll be perfect to go with dinner. I’ll put the store-bought shit back.”

“Rudie or Stewie?” Stella asks critically.

“Stewie. He’s finally coming back on board after everything,” I offer happily.

“Yay!” Stella says clapping as she reaches for a cookie, but Nick slaps her hand away.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” He looks over at my still full arms and nods towards the stairs. “Guest room’s all set up for you so you don’t have to pass out on the couch this time. And if that’s a gift for us it can go under the tree.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks. I’ll just go put my stuff down,” I say with a smile before slipping upstairs to the guest room. I dump my bag on the floor and the box on the bed. I stare at it curiously. Then remember the text in the car. I pull your phone out to read it, but Stella bursts in.

“I tried to make it all nice and pretty and festive for my bestest maid of honor!” She says joyfully as she points out the little Christmas tree and tinsel decorating the dresser.

“It looks amazing! You’re the best,” I say brightly, yet distracted. 

“You didn’t have to get us anything you know,” she says as she gestures at the box. “You being here and organising the bridal shower and helping with the wedding is more than enough. I know money’s tight at the moment.”

“Good, 'cause it’s not from me…Jensen sent it to the cafe. Stewie called and told me to pick it up, hence all the pastries and cookies. I wasn’t meant to go in today…”

“Jensen sent you a gift?”

“I’m not sure if he did or if he got his management team to. Maybe it’s an NDA and warning? He’s in Texas and it says California so…” I finally look down at my phone screen.

It was and I amI wanted to put my address, I didBut with no NDA my agent was against itBut I promise it’s from me

“He says it’s from him, his agent just wouldn’t let him put his address,” I explain, half to Stella and half to make yourself believe it. As I’m talking another text comes through.

Open it yet, Sweetheart?

“He asked if I opened it yet?”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Stella urges as she pushes the box closer to me.

I touch the tape but then withdraw and text him back.

Should I not wait until Christmas?

After a minute his name pops up on my screen. I look hesitantly between the phone and my best friend. She nods understanding and stands up. “I’ll be downstairs, but I want details when you’re done!”

I nod and shoo her out quickly before leaning my back against the now-closed door.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never

[anonymousewrites]

Of Two Worlds Christmas Special 2023

Fushiguro Megumi x Half-Curse! Reader

Mouse Note: Merry Christmas! I know everything is going to hell in the actual story, but here's a Christmas gift for you all! Enjoy the holiday season!

Additional Mouse Note: Aka if everything was okay and happy.

            “What happened to the kitchen?” asked (Y/N) as she walked in after getting the call from Gojo for a meeting. The entire room was covered in flour, and in the middle was a giant (and she meant giant) stack of cookie sheets.

            “Gojo-sensei made us cookies!” cheered Itadori.

            “They taste surprisingly good,” said Nobara. She huffed. “Of course he’d good at everything.” It was infuriating how easily Gojo did everything he tried.

            “Can I have one?” asked (Y/N).

            “Sure.” Megumi held out a cookie.

            “Nope!” Gojo snatched it from him. “No more eating cookies until we’ve decorated!”

            “Decorated?” repeated (Y/N).

            “Yep, for Christmas!” From seemingly nowhere, Gojo pulled out a large shopping bag and dumped the contents out. Sprinkles and icing in all different colors and designs clattered onto the table. “Tada!”

            “This is what you brought me here for?” said an unimpressed voice. Nanami stood in the doorway and crossed his arms.

            “Of course! It’s Christmas,” chirped Gojo. “Come on, come on! It’ll be fun.”

            “No,” said Nanami. “You’ve already made enough of a mess. I’m not adding to more.”

            “I agree with Nanami-san,” said Megumi, and Gojo deflated.

            “You two don’t want to decorate?” asked (Y/N), blinking and looking at the pair.

            Nanami and Megumi looked back and nearly sighed. Nanami was too weak for the teen he saw as his own daughter, and Megumi was too weak for the girl he liked.

            “I suppose I have a bit of time,” said Nanami.

            “I have nothing else to do,” said Megumi.

            Itadori and Nobara exchanged looks and grinned. They both knew neither would stay if it wasn’t for (Y/N). It was hilarious.

            “Alright, then, let the decorating begin!” Gojo grabbed Nanami and Megumi by the collars before they could change their minds again and dragged them to the table.

            “Yay!” cheered Itadori, grabbing two cookies (one to decorate and one to eat).

            “I’m going to make the best cookie here!” declared Nobara competitively. “And then I’m going to give it to Maki.”

            “Are you trying to impress her?” asked (Y/N) curiously.

            Nobara turned red. “No! No way! I just think she’d think that it was cool because I think she thinks I’m cool or at least I hope she does.”

            (Y/N) blinked. She hadn’t gotten any of that. “Megumi, what does that mean?”

            “I’ll explain it to you later,” said Megumi.

            “Okay. I was just trying to be supportive. I think Maki and Nobara are nice together,” said (Y/N), still unaware that Nobara was so red she might melt in embarrassment.

            Megumi grinned and chuckled at the reaction. “You’re doing fine, (Y/N).”

            She brightened. “Oh. Good.”

            They all sat down and took icing and sprinkles before Gojo could steal anything (he was hoarding and creating some monstrosity that would somehow turn out perfect because it was Gojo doing it).

            (Y/N) stared at the cookie in front of her, shaped into a gingerbread man. She didn’t consider herself quite creative, but she wanted to do something fun. So, she picked up some icing and began to carefully place it on the cookie. She was silent as she worked beside her friends, and each time she finished a cookie, she picked up another gingerbread figure.

            “Done!” declared Gojo. “Tada!” He held up a sheet of cookies with a variety of expertly decorated sweets with designs such as presents, Christmas trees, and a yeti(?).

            “Dammit, why is he good at everything!” cried Nobara, slamming her hand down angrily. Her own cookies were a mess of rainbows and cute sayings about Christmas on them.

            “Wow, Gojo-sensei!” said Itadori, eyes wide. His cookies were a mess of green, white, red, and ton of sprinkles. “Those look so good.”

            “The bakery I go to has better,” said Nanami simply. He had classic cookies in traditional Christmas designs, simple geometric patterns and the like.

            Gojo pouted. “You should appreciate me more, Nanamiiiiiii.”

            “I don’t appreciate showoffs,” said Nanami.

            “I like yours, Megumi,” said (Y/N), looking at his cookies.

            Megumi looked down at his sheet of blue, silver, and white cookies. “I think I forgot about the Christmas part.”

            “I still think they look good,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            Megumi turned a little pink. “Thanks.”

            “What did you do, (L/N)?” asked Itadori eagerly.

            “Oh, mine look bad,” said (Y/N), straight to the point.

            “Show us!” said Nobara.

            “Come on, (Y/N),” said Gojo eagerly.

            (Y/N) sighed and held up her sheet. On each of the gingerbread figures, she had attempted to make her friends as cookies. It was messy, but they could identify Itadori’s pink hair, the blindfold and white hair for Gojo, suit for Nanami, skirt for Nobara, gloves for herself, and spiky black hair for Megumi.

            Her friends stared at it, touched that she had tried to create all of them. It was very sweet.

            “They don’t look like you,” said (Y/N). “Sorry.”

            “They look so cool!” said Itadori.

            “It’s us,” said Nobara, grinning. “So cute!”

            “No one appreciated me…” pouted Gojo. “But yeaaaah, (Y/N)’s are good.” He was being honest, but he was being stupid, too.

            “Very well done, (Y/N)-kun,” said Nanami, smiling slightly. He was honored to be a part of (Y/N)’s creation.

            “Yeah, it looks really nice, (Y/N),” said Megumi. “Good job.” He smiled at her.

            She gazed back between him and Nanami and smiled shyly. “Merry Christmas.” She paused. “I can say that before the actual day, right?”

            The group laughed, and (Y/N) looked at them in confusion before smiling at their joy. A Merry Christmas, indeed. All she wanted was her family together. That’s why she had made what she did. Her wish was for everything to be happy together.

[bun-lapin]

The Gingerbread Gauntlet (part 1)

Summary: The housewardens have a gingerbread house competition

A/N: I meant to have this ready for before Christmas but of course, life had other plans lol The good news though is that I have a whole bunch of new writing ideas and I'm hoping to bust out of my little creative slump once the holiday chaos dies down a bit <3 The overall fic is a bit long so I decided to break it into smaller parts for readability. I'll be posting one part per day and will add links for the other parts after they post <3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4/END - AO3 (whole fic)

Word Count: 1.6k CW: crack, silly, shouting, insults, mild swearing, candy/gingerbread

Winter at Night Raven College was a time even more magical than usual. Although the cafeteria was mostly empty, the sight of festive winter garlands draped elegantly along the walls, combined with the soft sounds of crackling flames in the grand fireplace, brought a cozy sense of winter cheer to the room. The alluring scents of sugary treats and winter spices wafted through the warm air from the kitchen nearby and from a long, solitary table set up by the doors to the kitchen. Already covered with an assortment of candies and plates of oddly shaped gingerbread cookies, the table was the very picture of a sweet and festive feast. Around the table, seven striking figures were seated an equal distance from each other and, as the snow softly began to fall from the sky outside, they quietly worked with the bounty of sugary confections before them.

~

“I swear on the Noble Rulebook of the Queen of Hearts, if I find out someone has been hoarding all of the rose-shaped peppermints, it’s off with everyone’s heads!”

Leona drowsily raises an eyebrow at Riddle and smirks, “What’s the matter, housewarden? We just started. You losing your temper already?”

Riddle scoffs and wrinkles his nose at Leona’s slouching posture, “I’m not losing my temper! I’m trying to make sure there is an equitable distribution of candy decorations for everyone present to construct their gingerbread houses!” He picks up a paper that looks like an architectural blueprint and angrily jabs a finger at a particular section of the diagram. “I am building a gingerbread model of the Heartslabyul rose maze–to scale, I might add–and I require exactly 68 rose-shaped peppermints to construct it.”

Leona slowly blinks at the intricately detailed design in Riddle’s hands and then shakes his head with a soft chuckle. Reaching under his seat, he pulls out a large, glass bowl of rose-shaped candies and passes it to the Heartslabyul housewarden. Ignoring the death glare from Riddle, he turns to the other housewardens seated around the table and asks, ”Can someone remind me again why we’re doing this stupid gingerbread house competition? This seriously feels like a waste of my precious free time.”

Vil looks up from his gingerbread construction with an expression of withering scorn on his face, “We just went over everything not even a moment ago. Did you actually forget or were you just not paying attention in the first place?”

Kalim lets out a bright and hearty laugh from his seat at the table, “I think this is going to be a really fun activity!” He holds up a small gingerbread cookie decorated with dark colored icing and licorice in the image of Dire Crowley, “Plus, we have to do this because the headmaster asked us to!”  Waving the Crowley cookie in the air, he speaks in a surprisingly accurate impression of the headmaster, “I’ll be damned if I let those fools at RSA take home the trophy for the Isle of Sage’s gingerbread house competition another year in a row!”

Leona shakes his head with a slightly aggravated sigh, “I’m still failing to see why I, or any of us for that matter, should care about this useless endeavor.”

With a piping bag of white icing in one hand, Azul laughs softly and adjusts his glasses with the other hand, “There’s also the fact that whoever makes the best gingerbread house here today will receive a free PE class credit.”

Leona’s eyebrows rise in mild surprise and then he smirks. “Is that so? Well I suppose that explains why that guy over there is actually here in person for once,” he says as he points down towards the other end of the table.

Idia peers up from his work, the expression on his face equal parts gloomy and irritated, “Listen, I will do anything if it means I can miss any amount of PE.” Turning back to his geometric gingerbread design with a pout, he mutters under his breath, “Although, the main reason I’m actually here is because Ortho literally shot down my gingerbread construction drone.”

With a softly amused smile on his face, Malleus turns in his seat next to the Ignihyde housewarden and says, “Do try to cheer up, Idia. I’ve always felt that festive occasions such as these should be attended in person. A contraption built for the sole purpose of constructing with gingerbread could never replace someone special like you.”

“Oh-! Uh-! Th-thanks Malleus-shi! Th-that’s really nice of you to say,” Idia replies with a nervous grin. While keeping his gaze pinned to his work on the table, he then smoothly reaches into his pocket and rapid-fire taps out a message into his smartphone: AAGGGHH!!! WHYYY IS THE HEIR APPARENT OF BRIAR VALLEY SITTING NEXT TO ME?? SO DISTRACTING  (╥﹏╥)

A message notification chimes out from the phone in Azul’s front jacket pocket. After checking to make sure his hands are clean of icing, he takes out his phone and reads the message. With a playful smirk on his face, he taps out his reply: Honestly, I’m more surprised by the fact that Crowley actually remembered to invite Malleus this time. What a rare event!

Idia’s phone buzzes quietly in his pocket and he looks down to swiftly check the message. He glares over at Azul with a small frown and quickly types: yo speaking of rare events! are you wearing the glasses i made for you?? the ones with the built-in camera and mic?? because i deffo remember you saying that they were useless and not your style (¬､¬)

The sound of the cafeteria door loudly creaking open suddenly cuts off Idia and Azul’s silent conversation. All of the assembled housewardens turn to see two fluffy ears atop a head of messy, sandy-brown hair enter the room. With a mischievous grin and a hissing-kind of chuckle, Ruggie waves to the group, “Heya, everyone! I’m here for the gingerbread house competition.”

Riddle frowns at Ruggie while balancing two pieces of messily frosted gingerbread in his hands, “No, you certainly are not! This competition is for housewardens only!”

Leona lets out a loud yawn as he waves Ruggie over to the table. Turning to the rest of the group he explains, “It’s alright, I’m the one who called him here.” Handing Ruggie a piping bag of icing, Leona adds, “He’s gonna build my gingerbread house for me while I take a nap under the table.” Cries of outrage erupt from around the table and Leona’s ears twitch angrily as he raises his eyebrows at the grumbling housewardens.

While carefully setting down a slanted piece of gingerbread atop his elegantly constructed house, Vil states bluntly, “Ruggie is not allowed to build your house for you, Leona. Crowley explicitly instructed us to build these gingerbread houses without any magic or outside assistance.” Raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow, he smirks and adds, “If you want this free class credit, you’re going to have to put in some amount of work for once in your life.”

Leona directs a questioning look towards Ruggie who, in turn, raises his shoulders and shakes his head in resignation. Leona waves a hand dismissively at Ruggie, effectively shooing him out of the room, and clicks his tongue with annoyance, “Fine, fine. I got it. You don’t have to be such a bitch about it, though.” Grabbing a handful of candies and pieces of gingerbread, he then quickly and expertly begins assembling them together.

Without looking up from his work, Vil smoothly pipes extra icing on the corners of his house and replies in an even tone, “Call me by that word again and I’ll shave off all of your hair to weave into a throw rug for the Pomefiore common room.”

“Hey Vil,” Leona chirps out a soft whistle to catch the Pomefiore housewarden’s attention.

Letting out a short, aggravated sigh, Vil rolls his eyes and then looks over at Leona. “What,” he flatly asks.

With a heavy thud, Leona sets the end result of his hard work for the last few minutes on the table in front of him. Made from rounded pieces of gingerbread and decorated with brightly colored candies, is a large replica of a hand with a raised middle finger. Standing up from his seat, Leona flashes everyone a triumphant little smirk and then saunters out of the room without another word. 

The remaining housewardens silently watch him leave and, as the cafeteria door creaks shut, they return to their work with a softly murmured chorus of disapproval. An uncharacteristic silence settles over the group as everyone focuses on their individual gingerbread designs for the next few minutes.

Kalim finally breaks into the quiet with a bright laugh, “It's too bad Leona decided to leave early! I just finished making his cookie counterpart!” He holds up a Leona-shaped gingerbread cookie decorated with chocolate candies and a tiny feline scowl drawn in icing.

Looking up from his work, Vil studies the little cookie with an irritated glare. Wordlessly, he reaches across the table to pluck the Leona cookie from Kalim’s hand and then snaps the head off of the gingerbread figure. Handing the beheaded cookie back to Kalim, Vil flatly states, “My apologies.”

After carefully laying the broken pieces of Leona on a plate, Kalim holds up two additional gingerbread figures. One is decorated with marshmallow pieces and little wolf ears. The other is decorated with fluffy peanut butter frosting and hyena ears. Waving the wolf-eared cookie through the air, Kalim yells in a low, gruff voice, “Oh no! Housewarden Leona! I'll find out who did this to you and avenge the honor of our dorm!” Wiggling the hyena-eared cookie, Kalim says in a smoother, teasing voice, “Shyeheehee! Does this mean I get the rest of the day off?”

-continued in part 2-