#the yuletide challenge

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 12: The Yuletide Challenge (2/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Word Count: 1455

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

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Killian watched the gorgeous blonde walk away from him, her strides purposeful and decisive.  He grinned to himself as he finished his last shot, settled his tab and headed back to his lonely apartment.  When he’d left home that night, he’d hoped merely for enough rum to dull the ever-present pain and loneliness this time of year inevitably brought ever since it had happened. 

What he’d gotten instead was a lifeline.  Emma Swan may have believed she was (rather unwillingly if he didn’t miss his guess) fulfilling the requirements of her sister-in-law’s holiday project, but in a lot of ways, she’d been his savior on this cold winter’s night.

Five years past in early December, Killian’s whole world had crashed around him.  He’d had his share of pain and heartache throughout his childhood—his mother dying when he was barely old enough to remember her, his father running off and leaving him and Liam—but he also had joy.  He and Liam had been inseparable since the loss of their parents.  Liam had been the best brother any lad could ever hope to have��as much a surrogate father as a brother.

Then six years ago, he’d met the woman he believed to be the love of his life—Milah.  They’d had a quick whirlwind of a romance, and just before that fateful day of the accident, Killian had made up his mind to propose.

It was supposed to be a magical night.  Liam was in town for the weekend, and the plan was for the brothers and Milah to purchase a Christmas tree and decorate Killian’s apartment.  Only they never made it to the Christmas tree farm.  A drunk driver had hit them head on, killing Liam and Milah instantly and crushing his hand so badly it couldn’t be saved.

Killian took a deep breath as he opened the door to his bare, cheerless apartment.  It wouldn’t do to dwell on those painful memories any longer.  There was no going back, no changing what had happened.

Instead, he focused on long, silky blonde hair, jaded green eyes, and luscious legs shown to their full effect thanks to a short dress and high heels.  Emma Swan was quite possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but there was more to the instant attraction he felt toward her than merely her beauty.  There was a pain and brokenness about her that called out to him.  A lost boy could, after all, recognize a lost girl.

Swan may very well plan to save him from holiday blues, but he sensed he may be able to perform the same service to her.  Perhaps while she worked to bring him Yuletide cheer, he could work to knit together the pieces of her broken heart.

For the first time in five years, Killian was actually looking forward to the holiday season.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Emma sat staring at her cell phone for long moments.  She’d gotten as far as unlocking the thing and typing in Killian’s number before she froze.  Why was this so difficult?  Killian was just some stranger in a bar she had to do 3 more good deeds for, that was it.

It wasn’t like she felt any kind of connection to this guy.  It wasn’t like she was considering a relationship or something with him.  He was just a hot guy she had to do nice things for.  That was it.

So why was her instinct to run going into overdrive?

Emma growled, calling herself every kind of idiot she could think of.  Just get it over with, Emma.  She’d do her stupid good deeds, and then Killian “Hook” Jones would be in her rearview mirror.

After another deep, cleansing breath, Emma pressed the dial button and then held her breath until she heard his deep, sexy “Aye”.

“Hey, yeah, it’s Emma,” she said quickly before she could talk herself out of it.  “You know, from the bar?  The one taking the Yuletide challenge?”

His low chuckle did things to her.  Things that were most definitely not PG rated.

“I assure you, darling, there’s no chance I would forget you.”

“Yeah, whatever, Romeo,” she said dryly.

He laughed again, and Emma found her lips ticking up at the sound in spite of herself.  “So, I figure I need to cross another good deed off my list, since it’s nearly the end of the second week of December.  So what nice thing do you want me to do for you?”

“Well….” he said, drawing the word out in a way that made her heart race.

“What purely platonic thing do you want me to do for you?” she amended hastily.

He laughed again.  That sound really should be banned.  But after a beat of silence, he seemed to sober.  “There is one thing, I feel I really should do, and having someone to help truly would be a kindness.”

“Yeah?  What’s that?”

“I…I need to put up a tree, decorate the apartment,” he said, a strange hesitancy in his voice.

“It’s December 15, and you haven’t put your Christmas tree up?!” she asked, incredulous.

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a beat…then another.  When Killian finally answered, there was a heaviness in his voice Emma didn’t understand.  “I’ve…not been able to face the prospect of Christmas, and particularly decorating, for some time now.”

He was in pain, Emma could hear that clearly in his voice.  “Look, if it’s too painful or whatever, we don’t have to…”

“No, Swan, it’s quite alright,” Killian said.  “I think perhaps it’s time I attempt to put the past behind me and find joy again in the season.”

“Well if you’re sure…”

“I am,” he said decisively.  “Meet me at Granny’s tomorrow and we can make arrangements.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian took a step back and looked up at the tree.  Twinkling lights, colorful ornaments, a star at the top, it was gorgeous.  “I think we did rather well for ourselves, Swan, if I do say so myself.”

“Hey, when I put my mind to something, I’m all in,” she said, surveying their handiwork.

“So I’ve noticed,” he said with a grin.  “I’ve never seen someone pursue a Christmas tree with quite that much zeal.  I do believe the Christmas tree farmer is still quaking in his boots.”

Emma laughed, the sound washing over him like a warm blanket on a cold night.  “What can I say?” she asked.  “The price the guy was asking for this stupid tree was highway robbery.  What kind of a good deed doer would I be if I let him soak you like that?”

“My wallet thanks, you, love.”

She grinned back at him, and his heart turned over.  She must have seen something in his eyes, because she immediately withdrew into herself.

“Well, anyway…” she said awkwardly.  “Good deed number 2 crossed off the list, right?”

He wanted to ask her to stay, ask her to have dinner with him, find some pretense, any pretense to remain in her presence, but he knew her.  Already, after only one afternoon and a few minutes in a bar, he could read her like an open book.  A serious declaration of his blossoming feelings for her would do nothing but make her run.  Far better to fall back on his tried and true innuendo instead.

“I’m afraid I can’t agree to that, Swan,” he said with an exaggerated wounded look.

She grinned, placing one hand on a shapely hip.  “Yeah?  Why’s that?”

“Quite simply because the decorating is not at an end,” he said.  “I’ve yet to hang the sprig of mistletoe I obtained at the farm.  I rather think it’s only good form of you to stay as I hang it, and then help me…christen it.”

She laughed, the joyous sound bringing a genuine smile to his face.  “Killian, you just never stop, do you?”

He shook his head.  “Why should I stop when my nonsense brings such joy to your face, love?”

She dropped her eyes, took a small step back, and Killian worried he’d put a bit too much genuine emotion into that last question.  “Swan…I’m sorry; I didn’t mean…”

She looked up at him, the smile on her face forced, unnatural.  “It’s fine.  Look, I’ve got to get going.  I’ll, um, talk to you later for the last couple of good deeds.”

Killian sighed as the door closed behind her.  Tonight hadn’t ended as he’d hoped, but as she said, there were still two good deeds left.  Two more opportunities to convince Emma Swan to take a chance on the feelings obviously brewing between the two of them.

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NEXT CHAPTER->

[which-hospital]

My hopes for 2025 Casualty (yes I am counting the Christmas episode as 2025):

Teddy gets to be happy

Jacob and Blake’s stuff continues to be as great as it has already been, and maybe gets to be more in focus

TEDDY AND JACOB WORKING TOGETHER MORE

Nicole and Ngozi get married and live happily ever after

Siobhan and Stevie reconnect over their shared love of killing Rich

Faith leaves

Teddy gets a boyfriend… (he’s had a romance of the year two years running now, it’s not that out there to ask for a third)

S1 character makes a comeback and it’s not Charlie, SUSIE/ANDY/CLIVE/GHOST WOMEN SAVE US!!

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: Yuletide and Mulled Wine Fest

Yuletide and Mulled Wine Fest 2023:

Mutual, I'm Sure by LadyUrsa - E, WIP - If Draco Malfoy could have one wish in his life, it would be to not be a Veela. Wait, no. It would be to not have Hermione Granger be his mate. Fuck, at this point he would settle for Hermione Granger just being aware of the painfully obvious fact that she was his mate. But only as long as it resulted in monogamous bliss. And getting a cat. ** Two meddlesome best friends, two idiots who are bad at feelings, and a snow-filled Christmas reunion in Vermont. The only thing this White Christmas is missing are some musical numbers.

Seven Days in December by AutumnWeen - T, 4 chapters - A binding link, a friendship that blossomed from pain, and the magic of Christmas during seven days in December that will finally make them accept they can’t escape the other.

A Perfectly Normal Christmas by Kayka - T, one-shot - Hermione should have realized Christmas was doomed when the mistletoe spontaneously caught fire. This was all somehow Draco Malfoy's fault, and now she can't seem to stop running into him everywhere.

Four Christmases by vannminner - M, WIP - You can't spell families without lies - and the Granger / Malfoy duo had been spinning quite a few of those. As fate would have it, however, they're forced to unveil the truth to everyone in a series of four Christmases.

Stardust and Gentle Love by SybilEvergreen - T, 12 chapters - "Mr. Malfoy hasn't returned yet?" "No, not yet unfortunately. He sent me a message two days ago, stating that his mission had been extended. He's unsure if he'll make it back for Christmas." "You have to believe in a Christmas miracle, Miss."

The Christmas Party by arielle_reads - M, one-shot - Robards hosts a Christmas party for the Ministry but his gift-giving plan goes awry when everything gets swapped. Firewhiskey shots are introduced and Draco worries someone else will get the present he chose for Hermione.

Magical Merry Mistletoe by greyditto - T, one-shot - What happens when pureblood tradition, a Yule party, and a Secret Santa gift exchange all take place in the same event? Naturally, Draco's nearest and dearest conspire to get him what he always wanted...

Icy Truce, Warm Hearts by Serpent_Sortia - E, one-shot - The war has been raging for years but things are starting to go the Order's way thanks to the information provided by a spy high amongst Voldemort's ranks. Hermione is called out to meet the mysterious informant on a snowy Christmas Eve so he can deliver important news... until their meeting spot is compromised.

Krampussy by MidnightLumos - E, one-shot - Nothing brightens the spirits like a little holiday transfiguration. Just fun, giddy smut. “Krampus?” He nuzzled Hermione’s neck. “Are you going to eat me or take me to hell?” “The first one,” she stuttered. Malfoy made a choking sound of surprise, then pulled her forward on his lap until she was flush against his hardening bulk. “Goat demons, huh?” she said judgmentally, giving a meaningful thrust against him.

A Solstice Yarn by AStateOfInelegance - T, one-shot - Draco Malfoy is at the Granger family Ugly Jumper Party which is terrifying to Hermione for a number of reasons - not least of which is meeting her parents, hearing her childhood stories, and doing atrocious things to her heart. *** When she opened the door, she was smiling and when she saw the familiar mop of brown curls and bright grin, she couldn’t help but smile wider. Theo Nott had that effect on everyone. But when she saw the equally recognisable, though much less welcome, sleek platinum hair, her smile disappeared. He was not grinning. He looked like a man standing on a gallows, watching the hooded executioner sharpen his blade. She was suddenly very aware of her pulse and the way it raced, with a fight-or-flight response. “Theo,” Hermione said, voice low and dangerous. He cocked his head innocently. “You said I could bring a plus one.” Obviously her second mistake. The first was inviting him to begin with.

Messing with Christmas and How to Fix it by Astrangefan - not rated, one-shot - Hermione has been homesick for a home she no longer has. She finds some old decorations at Grimmauld and brings them back to Hogwarts. Draco likes what she's done, but says it in a way only Draco Malfoy can say and everything goes wrong. Now he has to come up with a grand gesture to apologise.

You Can't Just by AccioMjolnir - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger is assigned to review the finances for the Ministry Yule Party. The Yule Party that just happens to be organized by Draco Malfoy.

The Holiday by LunaLunaria - E, one-shot - A remix of The Holiday (2006) featuring cinnamon roll with hidden depths Neville Longbottom, chaotic manic pixie Pansy Parkinson, hyper-productive, seduce-me-with-your-brain Hermione Granger, and literary bachelor with a side of snark and sentiment Draco Malfoy.

This is War. by AlulaSprinkles - T, one-shot - "‘This is war.’ Honestly! Who says something like that about sodding snowballs, for Merlin’s sake?!" Or: in which Draco and Hermione's ongoing snowball fight quickly becomes too real.

A Gingerbread Getaway by MarinaJune - T, one-shot - Hermione loves a perfectly baked gingerbread biscuit, so how can she resist joining the Ministry's gingerbread house decoration contest? With a Romantic Getaway for Two as the grand prize and stiff competition in the form of one Draco Malfoy, she has her work cut out for her. It will take all manner of skills and subterfuge to secure first place, but the results might not be what she expects.

Onions, Lifts, & Fairy Dust by GertrudeCC - M, one-shot - A malfunctioning lift or a meddling friend? Two people seemingly lost on Christmas Eve thrown together in a most unusual way.

All I want, all I love by Goldenbucky - E, one-shot - A look inside the Malfoy Pack during the holiday season. More so, Alpha Pack Leader Draco Malfoy will do anything for his Omega.

Wreck My Plans by bookish_clf (clf1646), LunaP999 - E, one-shot - “You can call me Draco, you know. I have a first name.” “I don’t know. If I don’t call you Malfoy it might mean you aren’t my mortal enemy anymore, and won’t that just be so fucking weird?” I joked. “You have your legs wrapped around my waist, Hermione. I think we are anything but mortal enemies at the moment.” Jesus H Christ. **** Recently divorced Hermione Granger is requested to help MACUSA with a mass obliviation event in Manhattan a few days before Christmas. She runs into Head Auror Draco Malfoy, her childhood arch nemesis that she hasn't seen in twenty years. When he offers to be her tour guide for the night, she gladly accepts. Whisking her away to the best holiday markets and restaurants NYC has to offer, she realizes he's no longer the spolied child she used to know. The snow begins to fall and so do her inhibitions.

The Granger-Malfoy’s First Annual Secret Santa by westxnorthwest - T, one-shot - For their first holiday season as a married couple, Hermione and Draco decide to introduce their friends to the Muggle tradition of Secret Santa.

This fest is ongoing.

[worldsokayestmagicalgirl]

Dec 8 - 14 : Yuletide Woods

I have no idea when in the timeline this takes place anymore. I forgot Diana’s dragon hands but I’m already so done with how many times I tried them in this style and halfway through I realized I hadn’t been using Amoré’s desaturated color palette 😮‍💨

It’s already late so…merry crisis 🎄✨🕯️🎊

As always, Diana : @wolfy1298

[lacnunga]

Nothing calls you poor with quite such condescension as Christmas tiktoks

[aprettyspy]

I've been struggling lately to find time to write but I enjoy it so much, I want to build it back into my daily routine. As a result, I've set myself a Yuletide Flash Fic Challenge and you're welcome to join me. The rules are very simple. Each day from December 1st to 25th pick a prompt (any prompt you like, they don't have to be in order) and write/edit for no more than 30mins per day. That's it. You can have 25 individual fics, or weave them together. You can go off on side quests, introduce OCs, vary POVs and all characters are fair game. Me, I'm just going to have fun, so it will be silly, shmoopy, trope-riddled fic from me. If you do join in (leap in whenever you are ready) just tag #SpysYuletideFlash. Here are the prompts:

@mi6-cafe

[amelie-von-krolock]

Yuletide Greetings!!! 🎄 - The Krampus, also known as Kramperl or Bartl, is a figure that accompanies Saint Nicholas in various regional Advent traditions. These traditions are found all around the Alps, most of all in Austria, southern Germany and nothern Italy, but are also widespread in many parts of Eastern Europe. While Saint Nicholas gives presents to the good children, the naughty ones are punished by the Krampus, who most likely is a remnant of pre-Christian ideas and customs. - This little piece was an entry for the #spiritsofyulechallenge over on Instagram. :)

[astriiformes]

Really enjoying that the sign-ups for AU Roulette seem to skew in the direction of small to mid-sized fandoms. It's nice to see other people taking a multi-fandom challenge as an opportunity to write for whatever they want, and makes me want to run or participate in more similarly flexible events in the future.

[thebrideofcthulhu]

Wintertime Waltz

Sweeping through the shimmering candle light, the spirits of Yuletide Love cherish their blessed season with their passionate candle lit waltz. The joys of the season sparkle and shimmer with each floating, masterful step

[sodomhipped]

three stories for yuletide all sfw:

vampyr (mccullum/reid) - the strategy of self evasion

#

atomic blonde (delphine/lorraine) - and the day had just begun

#

where are you going, where have you been? (horror gen) - the mother rapping at your door

[truebookaddict]

2024 Yuletide Spirit Reading Challenge and Readathon

Time to sign up! https://seasonsreading.blogspot.com/2024/11/2024-yuletide-spirit-reading-challenge.html

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 11: The Yuletide Challenge (1/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Word Count: 1643

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

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Today’s story is an AU based on this prompt from @kmomof4​: Character A vows to do something nice for a stranger during the Christmas time. Character B is that stranger. It was written in 2017.

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Emma took a deep breath, smoothed down her tight red dress, and stepped through the doors of The Rabbit Hole, the premiere bar in the tiny town of Storybrooke, Maine, and scanned the interior for some poor, sad soul who looked in need of Christmas cheer.  She rolled her eyes.  How the hell had she let Mary Margaret talk her into this?

It all started the week before, when Emma had gone to her adoptive brother David’s and her sister-in-law Mary Margaret’s loft apartment for Thanksgiving dinner.  Emma had never been a big holiday person.  Growing up in the system, being in and out of group homes, she’d never really had a family to spend the special days with, at least until David’s mom, Ruth had taken her in just before her fifteenth birthday.  By that point, Emma was used to being a loner, and she preferred it that way.  If you don’t let people in, they can’t hurt you, right?  Most Thanksgivings and Christmases, even now that she was an adult with a brother and sister-in-law she loved, were spent alone, take-out and Netflix her big holiday companions.

But after a bad break up with her longtime boyfriend, (what had she ever seen in Walsh, that idiotic flying monkey!) Emma had decided it was time for a change.  She’d packed up her swanky New York apartment and relocated to Storybrooke where there was a job as her brother, the sheriff’s, deputy was waiting for her.  And with Emma living in the same town during the holidays, Mary Margaret simply would not take no as an answer to her invitation to have Thanksgiving dinner with the family.

Emma had to admit dinner with the family had been nice.  There was something so damn heartwarming about sharing a holiday with the ones she loved.

It was only after the feast had been consumed, the dishes had been washed, and the post-meal nap had been taken that things took a rather unfortunate turn.

Mary Margaret got awkwardly to her feet (it was one of the drawbacks of being nearly 7 months pregnant, after all) and clinked her water glass to get everyone’s attention.

“So David and I have been thinking,” she’d said.  “We thought it would be a good idea to start a new family tradition during the holiday season.”

Emma was immediately on alert.  When her sister in law had that look in her eyes it always spelled trouble.  “Um…okay?  Just what kind of tradition are we talking about?”

“The Yuletide challenge!” Mary Margaret said excitedly.

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret asking this,” Emma said, “but what exactly is a Yuletide challenge?”

“I saw an article about it in the holiday edition of my favorite magazine, Storybrooke Today,” Mary Margaret said.  “Basically, the idea is to spread Christmas cheer to the people who need it most.”

Emma crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.  “Yeah, I don’t really do the whole ‘Christmas cheer’ thing.”

“Oh come on, Emma!” Mary Margaret insisted.  “Christmas is the season of giving!  At least listen to the whole idea before rejecting it.  I promise this challenge will make us all feel warm and fuzzy inside.”

The puppy dog eyes.  Her sister in law was giving her the puppy dog eyes.  She wasn’t playing fair.  Not at all.

“It actually sounds like a pretty interesting idea, Emma,” David said, backing up his wife after she tossed him a pointed look. 

Emma sighed.  “Fine.  What exactly are the rules of this whole Yuletide challenge thing?”

Mary Margaret’s smile could light up the sun.  “Each of us will find a person in town—someone we don’t know, or at least don’t know well—who seems down on their luck, or sad, or just in general in need of cheer.  We make it our mission to do little acts of kindness for that person throughout the season.  You’ve got to do at least one good thing for them per week, and once you’ve picked your person, there’s no going back!  That’s your person for the season.  Could be by Christmas time we’ll each have a brand new friend!”

Emma wasn’t a people person.  She didn’t do random acts of kindness for strangers.  She kept to herself and let them keep to themselves.  Life was just better that way.  Still…Mary Margaret was really excited about this idea.  What could it hurt to spread a little kindness during the busiest, most hectic time of year?

“Alright,” Emma said on another sigh.  “Count me in.  I’ll take the Yuletide challenge.”

And that’s how Emma found herself in a bar, dressed to impress, looking for someone who looked sad and down on his luck.  It was nearing the end of the first week of December, and she’d yet to find her victim…er giftee.  She had to find someone fast before she forfeited the challenge before even beginning.

Emma saw him right away, as though a magnet had drawn her eyes to him.  He was handsome (hot as hell, really), with his soft black hair, mesmerizing blue eyes, dusting of scruff, jeans and black leather jacket.  But it wasn’t his looks that immediately drew Emma to him.  It was the dejected, almost despairing look on his face as he nursed his glass of rum at his lonely table at the back of the establishment.  If anyone needed a little Christmas cheer, it was this guy.

Squaring her shoulders, Emma walked purposefully to his table.  He looked up at the sound of her stiletto heels moving across the floor, his eyes showing surprise and appreciation as he took in the sight of her.

“This seat taken?” she asked, reaching for the chair across from him.

He waved with his right hand.  “Be my guest, love.”

The smooth, British accent, combined with his far above average looks did things to her insides.  Emma turned away, taking the chair.  Get it together, Swan!  You’re not some teenager who gets crushes on hot strangers!

“So, my name’s Emma Swan,” she said.  “And who might you be?”

“Killian Jones,” he answered, “but people have taken to calling me by my more colorful moniker.  Hook.”

The man raised his left arm, and Emma noticed the nautical hook which sat in place of a hand.  Well that wasn’t weird or anything. “Um…why do you have a hook instead of a hand?”

Smooth Emma.  Really smooth. Nothing like starting out the Yuletide challenge with a major faux pas.

One dark eyebrow rose and a half smile draped his lips.  “I’ve always been fascinated with Captain Hook, so after I lost the hand, my Halloween costume was rather obvious.  The hook has proven so bloody useful, I simply chose to keep it.”

“Oh, well…sorry about your hand.”

A shadow passed over his face.  “Aye, well, it’s been five years, almost to the day since the accident.”  He closed his eyes for a moment, then drained his glass in one gulp, hastily pouring himself another.

If Emma didn’t miss her guess, and she rarely did, an ability to read people was one of the things that made her one of the best bail bonds persons New York had ever seen, there was more to the story, than simply the loss of a hand.  The poor guy was in misery even alluding to the event.

Nice job, Emma.  Instead of spreading Christmas cheer, you’ve managed to make this guy relive his worst memory.

“Killian….I’m sorry…”

He waved her off.  “It’s no matter, Swan.  Seems it’s a night for melancholy musings, but I survived.  Now, I’d rather discuss something pleasanter if you don’t mind.  What exactly brought such a beautiful woman to my table on this cold winter’s night?”

Emma took a deep breath.  Here goes nothing.  “So I was wondering if you’d help me with something.”

His eyebrow rose in question.

“Let me buy your next round,” she said, “and then, well, maybe I could do some nice things for you.”

His expression changed in an instant.  Surprise and melancholy replaced with pure lasciviousness.  “That’s quite the offer, darling.  It’s not every day a gorgeous woman offers herself as my Christmas gift.”

Emma felt her face flame.  “Oh my gods!  I wasn’t propositioning you, Killian!”  (Though…if he kept looking at her like that…well, there was no telling what might come of this night.)

He sighed dramatically.  “My profound loss.  So, Swan, if you weren’t asking me for what, I assure you would be a very, very pleasant roll in the sheets, what precisely were you offering?”

“You see, my sister-in-law, Mary Margaret, had this idea for the holiday season….”  And with that she laid out the whole sappy challenge for him.  “And, I don’t know.  You just look like you could use a friend.  So what do you say?”

Killian took a long sip of his rum, and Emma tried her best not to watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, not to follow the line down to his firm chest where luscious, abundant chest hair peeked out from beneath a partially buttoned shirt.  “Oh I don’t know, Swan.  I rather think spending a night together in my bed would count as a kindness.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, not happening.  We’re talking warm, fuzzy, purely platonic acts of kindness.”

He sighed dramatically, and she grinned in spite of herself.  He was such an idiot.  But…he was an adorable idiot, and she couldn’t help but sense she’d enjoy the time she’d inevitably spend with him, should he accept her offer.

A soft, almost shy smile replaced the teasing on his face.  “Very well, Emma.  I will be the recipient of your challenge.”

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NEXT CHAPTER->

[katiajewelbox]

Hi fellow Escaflowne fans,

You may remember this post from last year. Although I had the intentions and inspiration to write these prompts for some fans who submitted requests, life unfortunately got in the way and I didn't end up writing these. However, I'd like to give it another go this year. If I can hunt up your messages with your requests I will try writing them, and if any new fans would like to add their request please do by commenting on this post or DM-ing me.

Happy Holidays!

Escaflowne Holiday Season Writing Prompts

It's the festive season, Escafans!

In order to spread festive cheer and spark our imaginations, I would like to be challenged to write short pieces about your favourite characters from The Vision of Escaflowne doing Christmassy stuff this month. It could be a trip to Earth to learn about the local traditions or an equivalent holiday in their own culture.

The rules are simple: Just pick a prompt and tell me which character or characters you'd like to see in this yuletide situation.

Individual characters doing these activities are fine, but I also encourage friendship duos and groups, family members, and couples. I would like to try imagining different characters in these situations, including characters I don't usually make fanstuff for.

No NSFW but implied adult situations are acceptable.

No adult situations with incest or child characters.

Please include as many details you want. I will attempt to work them into the short story appropriately.

I will write a 5-10 paragraph mini fic based on your prompt. I will share the fics on A03 as chapters in one fiction and on Tumblr as individual posts over the next month.

Buying a christmas tree

Decorating a christmas tree

Buying decorations

Mistletoe 

Making a snowman 

Hanging christmas lights around the home

Baking christmas treats 

Their first christmas as a couple

Walking around the city to look at the lights

Keeping each other warm 

Ice skating

Gift giving 

Cuddling in front of a fire 

Making snow angels 

Going to a christmas market 

Enjoying hot chocolate/mulled wine

Playing in the snow 

Snowday! 

It’s their first christmas together as a couple in their own place and they’re not entirely sure what to do

Deciding to just stay home and spend the holidays together

The family have left and they’re finally alone and can enjoy their evening

They don’t celebrate Christmas, but they still like the way the holiday feels cosy and warm to them. 

Free space

I'm looking forward to your prompts!

#escaflowne#escaflowne community#escaflowne fandom#vision of escaflowne#escaflowne prompt#tenku no escaflowne#tenkuu no escaflowne#the vision of escaflowne#holiday fic#christmas fic#fic challenge#writing prompt

This Picmix features official promotional art from the Vision of Escaflowne along with my original AI art of a snowy forest combined with digital edits in Picmix. Although it is a cute image, I bet Van and Hitomi are cold! I couldn't find any official art of them wearing winter clothes.

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: HP Yuletide Bliss

HP Yuletide Bliss 2022:

Naughty or Nice by riddikulus_puff - E, one-shot - Hermione Granger is sure of the fact that she is listed on the nice list, along with her children. How couldn't they be? They were all such darlings. But, there was one anomaly within the Granger-Malfoy family. The Golden Girl's husband himself, Draco Malfoy, was a Slytherin through and through. The constant questioning from their children about what list their father was on, led to even Hermione herself questioning the fact. Would Draco Malfoy be on the naughty or the nice list?

Of Cherries, Shea Butter, Apples, and Licorice by unholyaffliction - G, one-shot - He knew her through the passing of months, rain and shine. In sickness and in- he was getting ahead of himself.

A Tradition Most Outdated by unholyaffliction - G, one-shot - She should leave.  She knows this. Head for the bar, or Ginny, or anywhere away from him. Distance herself, both emotionally and physically.She will.She's going to.She- can't?In which our two favourite idiots refuse to adhere to tradition and inconvenience a certain chosen one in the process.

Blue Christmas by riddikulus_puff - T, one-shot - A year ago everything was going amazingly in the world for Hermione Granger until everything changed suddenly in one day. This amazing day had bought the arrival of her wonderful son, Scorpius Draco Malfoy, but the heartbreaking day had also taken away her one and only true love, Draco Malfoy. And now, it was Scorpius and Hermione's first Christmas without him and she wasn't sure how to feel about the festive holidays without her boyfriend. But she had a support system around her to get through this hard time.

Baby It's Cold Outside by riddikulus_puff - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger-Malfoy and Draco Malfoy were currently calling themselves the best parents of the year to their four darling children, Scorpius, Lyra, Leo and Jeanie. But ever since moving out of the family Manor in Wiltshire and back towards London to be closer to their friends and family, the Granger-Malfoy family had missed seeing the snow-covered gardens and experiencing the true wonder of waking up on early Christmas morning to the delights of there being snow waiting outside of their windows. But, things could always change and maybe they would wake up this Christmas morning and see snow waiting for them.

Kingdom Dance by riddikulus_puff - T, one-shot - Don't get her wrong because fourteen-year-old Hermione Granger loved Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it was truly her second home. Her home away from home. But nothing would top the feeling of her true home, the Granger family home where her mother and father were. The warm crackling fire as she and her father cuddled up on the sofa together. The smell of freshly baked mince pies out of the oven. The feeling of cold tingled her nose as her mother, father and Hermione skate around the frozen lake together, singing loudly to their favourite Christmas songs. She missed those feelings and that atmosphere while at Hogwarts, so her plan was to replicate some of them.

Sweater Weather by riddikulus_puff - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger-Malfoy always thought that she might have been sorted into the wrong house during her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but there was hardly much proof. Her husband, Draco Malfoy, constantly called her out for her Slytherin traits. But, when the time arrives for Hermione to purchase Christmas presents for her husband, she ropes in the help of Mrs Weasley to plan a gift for her blond man, for the love of her life.

This fest is ongoing.

[mag200]

if the green knight challenged me to land any blow upon him and a year and yuletide later he would do the same action to me i would simply walk up and kiss him. rip to gawain but im different.

[societyfolklore]

Plus One

Title: Plus One (Prompt- who invited them to the holiday party?) Pairing: Loki x SHEILD Agent!Female Reader

Summary:  Thor brings Loki along to the Avengers Christmas party, and no one-not even you-was prepared for it. A night of tension and unexpected moments leads to revelations that are far from festive.

Word Count: 4.5k (woah this got away from me…)

Warnings:  /Warnings // Explicit Content //18+, Minors DNI, smut, DARK-ish (just Loki being Loki really) fingering, Unprotected sex Not Beta read.

A/N: Another entry for @the-slumberparty December daze challenge …. Day 21

The annual Avengers Christmas party was the kind of event that had its own gravitational pull. No one dared to skip it-Tony Stark’s reputation for ‘over-the-top’ festivities guaranteed a night to remember (and sometimes regret). The compound sparkled with festive charm, every inch of it covered in twinkling lights, tinsel, garlands, and a seemingly endless supply of mistletoe that Tony had strategically placed to stir up drama.

You’d been looking forward to the party for weeks. It wasn’t often the team had an excuse to let their guard down and embrace something as simple as holiday cheer. If you were honest with yourself, it was also a chance to see Thor. The Asgardian always brought a sense of camaraderie to these events with his booming laughter and stories of Yuletide traditions from another realm, plus who didn’t like a chance to swoon a little over an ‘God’.

The night began as you expected-Natasha at the bar, teasing Clint about his questionable sweater; Sam and Bucky in a competitive battle of holiday trivia that was growing increasingly loud and animated; and Steve doing his best to avoid being cornered by overly curious SHIELD interns. It was chaotic, warm, and exactly what you needed.

At least, until you saw him.

You’d been mid-conversation with Wanda when the room seemed to shift. A ripple of unease spread through the crowd, subtle but undeniable. Curious, you turned your head and there he was. Loki.

Standing by the bar, drink in hand, the God of Mischief looked entirely too at ease in a room full of people who’d rather not be in his company. He was dressed impeccably in a dark suit that somehow managed to feel more threatening than festive. His jet-black hair was swept back, and his piercing blue eyes scanned the room with a lazy confidence that set your teeth on edge.

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath, your drink momentarily forgotten.

Wanda followed your gaze, her brow furrowing. “Thor brought him,” she explained quietly. “Apparently, he didn’t want his brother to spend the holidays alone.”

“That’s… considerate,” you replied, though your tone dripped with scepticism. “But Loki? At a Christmas party? This has disaster written all over it.”

Wanda shrugged looking back at you. “He’s been calm so far, charming even. Maybe he’ll surprise us.”

You snorted. Loki wasn’t the kind of person who ‘surprised’ people in a good way.

As if sensing your thoughts, Loki’s gaze locked onto yours from across the room. His lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk that made your stomach twist. He raised his glass slightly in a mock toast, his expression equal parts amusement and challenge.

You turned back to Wanda, doing your best to ignore the flush creeping up your neck. “This is going to be a long night.”

Moments later, you found yourself seeking out Thor, hoping for some kind of explanation. You spotted him near the buffet table, a plate stacked high with what looked like an alarming combination of turkey and dessert pastries. He was laughing boisterously at something Steve had said, completely at ease despite the tension his brother’s presence was causing.

“Thor,” you said, cutting into the conversation. He turned to you with his usual wide grin.

“Ah! Seasonal Salutation! M’lady” he greeted warmly. “Have you tried the pudding? A most peculiar flavour but quite delightful.”

You waved off the question, getting straight to the point. “What is he doing here?”

Thor’s grin faltered slightly, and he glanced over his shoulder as if to confirm who you meant. “Loki? Well I- He had nowhere else to go for the holidays. It seemed cruel to leave him to his own devices.”

“Cruel to him or to us?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You seriously thought this was a good idea?”

Thor sighed, his expression softening. “I understand your concerns, but he is my brother. I could not bear the thought of him alone on such a joyous occasion. Besides,” he added with a wink, “he promised to behave.”

You raised a sceptical eyebrow. “And you believed him?”

Before Thor could answer, a shadow fell over the two of you. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. The air seemed to grow colder, and a familiar voice, smooth and laced with amusement, cut through the festive noise.

“Talking about me already? How flattering.”

Loki stepped into view, his smirk firmly in place as his sharp gaze flicked between you and Thor. “I wasn’t aware I warranted such attention.”

Your jaw tightened, but before you could fire back, Thor clapped Loki on the shoulder, his usual jovial demeanour returning. “We were just discussing how you’ve managed to behave yourself so far. A true Christmas miracle!”

Loki’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a glint of something darker in his eyes as he turned his attention to you. “I aim to please.”

Your stomach flipped, though whether it was from irritation or something else, you weren’t sure. “Let’s hope it stays that way,” you said coolly, brushing past him before he could see just how much his presence was affecting you.

As you walked away, you could feel his gaze following you, burning into your back. This was definitely going to be a long night.

You drifted toward the far corner of the room, seeking refuge from Loki's piercing gaze that still lingered in your thoughts. The dessert table became your sanctuary, a whimsical display of Tony’s flair for the extravagant. Gingerbread skyscrapers stood proudly next to meticulously crafted snowman macarons, their glossy surfaces glinting in the ambient light. A fountain of eggnog, complete with a miniature motorized sleigh circling its base, gurgled in the background, adding a surreal charm to the festive scene.

You allowed yourself a brief moment to breathe, reaching for a chocolate-dipped strawberry and savoring the rich aroma of cocoa and ripe fruit. It was grounding, a small indulgence that pulled you back from the tension threatening to coil too tightly in your chest.

But the respite didn’t last long.

“Avoiding me already, darling?”

The familiar voice sent a jolt through you, smooth as velvet yet edged with a playful sharpness. Your hand jerked slightly, the strawberry wobbling precariously between your fingers. You turned your head sharply, meeting Loki’s unyielding gaze. He was closer than you’d expected, his tall frame looming with an ease that spoke of his predatory confidence.

His presence was suffocating in the most maddening way, and yet you couldn’t tear your eyes from him. Dressed to perfection, the crisp lines of his suit contrasted against the effortless way he commanded attention, even in silence. The faint scent of something rich and foreign clung to him-spices, leather, and an undertone of frost that teased at your senses.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you replied coolly, forcing your voice to remain steady despite the quickened thrum of your pulse. You deliberately brought the strawberry to your lips and took a bite, savoring the sweetness as a distraction. “I was enjoying the party. Something you seem to be incapable of doing without making it about you.”

Loki’s laughter rumbled low and deep, like distant thunder, curling around you in a way that made it hard to breathe. “Oh, I’m quite capable of enjoying myself, believe me,” he said, his voice layered with dark amusement. “I just find these… mortal festivities rather quaint.”

“Quaint?” You raised an eyebrow, the word dripping with disbelief as you gestured toward the decadent dessert spread. “Says the man who just interrupted my quiet moment at the dessert table.”

His smirk widened, the kind of expression that could unravel nerves and stir intrigue all at once. “Perhaps I wanted a taste of something sweeter,” he murmured, his tone infused with a deliberate intimacy that sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.

The strawberry caught in your throat for a moment, and you forced yourself to swallow, cursing the way your skin betrayed you. Loki noticed, of course he did. His keen gaze flickered over your face, amusement lighting up his sharp features. He tilted his head, the picture of faux innocence.

“Did I say something amiss?” he asked smoothly, the corners of his mouth twitching in barely concealed delight.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered under your breath, the words escaping as you stepped away from the table, hoping to put some distance between yourself and the maddening force of his presence.

Yet Loki followed, his movements unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world to unravel you.

“I’ve been called worse,” he quipped lightly, his voice as smooth as silk. His hands were tucked casually behind his back, yet his proximity felt charged, as if the space between you crackled with unspoken intent. “But tell me, darling, why are you so eager to escape me? Surely you don’t find my company that intolerable.”

“It’s not intolerance,” you shot back, turning on your heel to glare at him. “It’s self-preservation.”

He stepped closer, and the air seemed to grow heavier, the warmth of the room fading beneath the cool intensity of his gaze. His voice dropped, low and husky, the kind of sound that made your pulse stutter.

“And what, pray tell, are you preserving yourself from?”

The question hung between you, tangible and electric. His words weren’t a challenge, nor a taunt-they were a doorway, left slightly ajar, daring you to step through.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words dissolved before they could form, leaving only the sound of your breath quickening in the charged silence. Loki’s gaze lingered on you, his smirk softening into something deeper, something that threatened to pull you under if you stared too long.

“Do let me know when you figure it out,” he said, his tone almost gentle now, as though the shift had caught even him by surprise. Then, without waiting for a reply, he turned and brushed past you, leaving the faintest brush of his coat against your arm.

You exhaled sharply, suddenly aware of how tightly you’d been holding your breath. Your heart thundered in your chest, every nerve still attuned to where he had stood just moments before. The room felt smaller now, as though his presence lingered, an echo of something dangerous and enticing.

You spent the next hour doing everything in your power to avoid Loki, though it felt like he was everywhere at once. His presence seemed to saturate the room, no matter how crowded it was. Whenever you turned, there he was: leaning casually against the bar, exchanging sly remarks with Natasha, or simply watching you with that insufferable smirk that sent heat creeping up your neck. It felt deliberate, a calculated game where the rules were known only to him, and you were the unwilling prize.

Finally, the weight of his gaze became too much. You slipped out of the main hall and into one of the quieter hallways, the muffled hum of the party fading behind you. The air here was cooler, the festive decorations sparser, and you exhaled a shaky breath, leaning against the wall to collect yourself.

“Running away again?”

The low, teasing voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you spun around, heart leaping to your throat. Loki stood at the end of the hallway, his silhouette sharp and imposing against the soft glow of a nearby string of fairy lights. The warm glimmer of the lights only seemed to enhance his cool, detached elegance, making him look every bit the dark prince he often pretended not to be.

“This isn’t running,” you said, forcing a steadiness into your voice that you didn’t feel. “It’s called taking a break.”

His lips curved into that familiar, maddening smile as he began to close the distance between you, each step slow and deliberate. “And yet, here I am. Drawn to you like a moth to a flame.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms in an attempt to appear unruffled, though your pulse quickened the closer he came. “Do you practice being this insufferable, or does it come naturally?”

“It’s a gift,” he replied smoothly, the amusement in his tone only growing. “Though I must confess, your reactions make it all the more enjoyable.”

You took a step forward, unable to help yourself, despite the quiet voice in the back of your mind warning you to tread carefully. “Is that what this is? A game to you? Annoying me for your own amusement?”

Loki’s smirk faded, his expression shifting into something darker, more intense. His piercing gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, it felt like he was looking straight into your soul. “Oh, darling,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. “If I wanted to truly amuse myself, I’d do far more than simply annoy you.”

Your breath hitched, the implication hanging heavy between you, but you refused to let him see the effect he had on you. “Then what do you want, Loki?”

He stopped inches from you, the air between you charged and electric. His gaze was relentless, pulling you under like a riptide. “Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice low and hypnotic, “I simply want to see how far you’ll let me go.”

Your body betrayed you, heat rising as his hand brushed lightly against your arm. The touch was featherlight, yet it sent a jolt of energy coursing through you, igniting every nerve.

“You should be careful,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Even as you spoke, there was no conviction behind the words, only a trembling uncertainty that made your heart pound. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Loki’s lips curved into a wicked smile, his confidence unwavering. “Danger is where I thrive, darling. Tell me… do you?”

Before you could respond, his hand rose to cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the chaos he stirred within you. His thumb brushed softly against your skin, a maddening contrast to the storm raging in your chest.

“Stop me,” he murmured, his voice intoxicatingly low, his breath warm against your lips. “If that’s what you truly want.”

But you didn’t.

You surged forward, closing the gap between you as your lips met his in a kiss that was equal parts fury and inevitability. It was raw, consuming, and all the more maddening because of how long you had fought it.

Loki’s arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips claimed yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your lungs, leaving you reeling. His kiss wasn’t gentle-it was a battle for control, each movement demanding submission even as it ignited a fire within you.

One of his hands gripped your hip possessively while the other tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. The cold wall at your back and the solid heat of his body against yours were the only things grounding you as you surrendered to the moment.

When he finally pulled back, his lips brushed against your ear, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. “Indulgence has never been this exquisite.”

Your protests dissolved into a shaky exhale as his hand slid beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns along the sensitive skin of your thigh, moving closer to where you ached for him most.

A sharp intake of breath betrayed you, and Loki chuckled softly, clearly revelling in your unravelling. “Say the word, darling,” he purred, his voice like silk and sin. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

But you didn’t.

Instead, your hands fisted in the front of his jacket, pulling him impossibly closer. Your voice was barely audible as you breathed, “Don’t stop.”

His eyes darkened, the icy blue of his gaze now molten with raw hunger. That insufferable smirk transformed into something primal, almost feral, as his fingers ventured higher beneath the hem of your dress. He moved with agonizing precision, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh until you shivered against the wall.

“Such a delicate thing,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that vibrated against your skin. “And yet, so very responsive.”

Before you could form a retort, his fingers slid higher, grazing over the damp fabric of the lace underwear. The sharp intake of breath you couldn’t suppress only seemed to fuel him, his lips curving in wicked satisfaction.

“Already wet for me,” he observed feeling the damp fabric, his tone laced with sinful amusement. “I knew you’d be eager, but this, darling, this is delightful.”

Your cheeks burned with equal parts embarrassment and desire, but your body betrayed you, arching toward his touch. Loki’s fingers pressed against your clothed heat, his thumb finding your swollen clit with unerring accuracy. He applied the barest amount of pressure, circling slowly, and a broken moan escaped your lips.

“Do you like that?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. “I do so enjoy hearing you mortals unravel for me.”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. But Loki wasn’t one to tolerate defiance. With a low chuckle, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of the lace and tugged them down with deliberate slowness, letting them pool at your ankles. The cool air against your bare skin sent another shiver racing through you.

“You’re even lovelier like this,” he purred, his fingers sliding between your folds, collecting the slick evidence of your arousal. “So wet.” He breathed the words out “So ready.”

His hand moved with a skill that left you gasping, two fingers plunging inside you with a smooth, practiced motion. Your walls clenched around him instinctively, drawing a pleased hum from his lips. His thumb resumed its torment on your clit, alternating between slow circles and deliciously firm pressure.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he pumped his fingers deeper. “So perfect, so pliant and all for me, no more running now pet.”

The sound of your laboured breathing mingled with the faint buzz of the party in the distance, though the world beyond this moment felt impossibly far away. Your hands clutched at the lapels of his jacket, desperate for something to anchor yourself as pleasure coiled tighter in your stomach.

Loki pressed his body against yours, his hard length evident even through the layers of his tailored trousers. He tilted his head, capturing your lips in a kiss that was every bit as consuming as his touch. His tongue slid against yours, matching the rhythm of his fingers as they drove you closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum.” The snarled whispered against your lips, his voice rough with need. “I command it.”

You cried out softly as the tension within you snapped, your orgasm crashing over you in a wave of blinding heat. Loki’s name tumbled from your lips in a breathless plea, and he drank in the sound like the most decadent wine.

He didn’t stop. His fingers slowed, drawing out your pleasure until your legs trembled, barely able to hold your weight. Only then did he withdraw, his hand glistening with your release. He brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with an exaggerated slowness that made your cheeks burn.

“Exquisite,” he said, his voice low and smug. “Every bit as divine as I imagined.”

You could barely catch your breath, still leaning against the wall for support as he adjusted the hem of your dress with almost mocking care. He straightened, brushing his fingers over your flushed cheek, and leaned in close once more.

“Don’t think this is the end, darling,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your ear. “I’ve only just begun.”

Loki’s fingers lingered on your cheek, his touch deceptively tender given the heat still radiating from his gaze. Before you could recover, his hands slid down to your waist, firm and commanding as he turned you effortlessly to face the wall. The cold surface pressed against your palms, grounding you for a fleeting moment before his body closed in behind yours.

“You didn’t think I’d be satisfied with just that, did you?” he murmured, his breath warm against the back of your neck. One of his hands smoothed over the curve of your hip while the other brushed your hair aside, exposing the sensitive skin of your neck. His lips followed, planting open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, nipping and sucking just enough to leave faint marks.

“Loki,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but whether it was a plea or a protest, you weren’t sure.

“Say my name again,” he commanded, his tone dark and heady, as his hands slid down to the hem of your dress, gathering the fabric in a deliberate, tantalizing motion. He bunched it around your waist, baring you to him completely. His hands roamed over your exposed skin, squeezing, caressing, and claiming every inch as his own.

You felt him then, hard and insistent against your lower back. The realization sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, and a soft whimper escaped before you could stop it. Loki chuckled, low and predatory, clearly pleased with your response.

“You’ve no idea how exquisite you are,” he said, his voice a velvet caress as he undid his trousers with an unhurried ease. The sound of fabric shifting and the faint metallic click of his belt made your heart race, anticipation knotting in your stomach.

His hands found your hips again, gripping them with enough force to leave an impression as he positioned himself behind you. The blunt head of his cock pressed against your slick entrance, and he paused, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“This is your last chance, darling,” he purred, his voice rich with dark amusement. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

You bit your lip, trembling with need and the intoxicating tension he created. “Don’t stop,” you whispered, the words barely audible but filled with certainty.

Loki growled low in his throat, the sound primal and triumphant, before he pushed into you in one smooth thrust. The stretch was delicious, a mix of pain and pleasure that made your knees buckle, though his hands kept you firmly in place. He filled you completely, holding still for a moment as though savoring the way your body molded around him.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough with restraint. “You were made for this.”

He began to move, slow and deliberate at first, each thrust calculated to make you feel every inch of him. His grip on your hips tightened as he picked up the pace, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing faintly in the hallway. The distant hum of the party felt like it was in another world entirely-this moment belonged only to the two of you.

“Do you feel that?” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “Do you feel how perfectly you take me?”

You couldn’t speak, your words dissolving into broken moans as he drove into you harder, deeper, each thrust hitting a spot that made your vision blur. One of his hands slid around your waist, finding your clit with unerring precision. His fingers circled the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts, drawing you closer to the edge once again.

“That’s it,” he urged, his tone softening into a dangerous kind of sweetness. “Give yourself to me. Surrender, darling.”

Your body obeyed, the coil of pleasure snapping as your second orgasm tore through you. You cried out his name, your walls clenching around him as he groaned in response, his pace growing erratic. With a few more punishing thrusts, Loki followed you over the edge, spilling himself inside you with a shuddering growl.

He stayed there for a moment, his chest pressed against your back, his breath warm against your ear as you both struggled to catch your breath. Slowly, he pulled out, his hands steadying you as your legs threatened to give way.

“Oh pet, you're magnificent.,” he murmured, his lips grazing the nape of your neck in a way that sent one final shiver coursing through you. His tone was softer now, but the unmistakable smugness lingered, igniting both irritation and something darker within you. “You've surpassed even my wildest expectations.”

You turned your head just enough to meet his gaze, catching the glint of satisfaction in his piercing blue eyes. He didn’t bother to hide it-he looked like a man who had just won a prize he’d been chasing for ages. Loki smirked, his movements unhurried as he adjusted his trousers and smoothed the wrinkled fabric of your dress with surprising care, the gesture more mocking than tender.

“We should return to the party,” he said, his voice light and teasing, as though nothing significant had just transpired between the two of you. Before you could respond, he reached into his jacket and withdrew a handkerchief, pressing it into your hand with a devilish grin. “You’ll be needing that. Can’t have you making a mess all over the floor can we?”

You stared at the crisp square of fabric, your cheeks flushing anew as the implication settled over you. Loki’s gaze lingered, heavy with amusement, as you adjusted your dress and tried in vain to steady your breathing. He leaned casually against the wall, utterly composed, as if he hadn’t just unravelled you completely in the quiet shadows of the hallway.

“This stays between us,” you said, your voice sharp as you jabbed a finger in his direction. Despite your stern tone, the slight tremble in your hand betrayed the lingering effect he had on you.

His grin only widened, maddening in its audacity. “Naturally, darling. Consider it our little Yuletide secret.”

You glared at him, determined to hold your ground, but the warmth of his gaze, still smouldering with an intensity that made your knees weak, threatened to undo you all over again. With a frustrated huff, you pushed past him, your steps hurried as you made your way back to the party.

The hum of festive music and the cheerful chatter of your teammates enveloped you like a shield, but it did little to banish the lingering heat in your body. You tried to lose yourself in the crowd, smoothing your hair and grabbing a drink to distract yourself. Yet, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t resist a glance over your shoulder.

Loki was still there, leaning casually in the hallway entrance like a predator surveying its territory. His eyes found yours instantly, and the unreadable expression on his face sent a jolt of something you refused to name straight to your core. He raised his glass in a mock toast, his smirk returning, and then disappeared into the shadows, leaving you with a pounding heart and a sinking suspicion.

This wasn’t over- not by a long shot.