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daycourtofficial · 4 months

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Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon

Summary: you teach the Inner Circle about your home court’s tradition of mistletoe, and someone begins placing them all around the house to catch you underneath them.

Author’s note: this is heavily inspired by Operation Mistletoe by Wkemeup, so feel free to check that out.

“So you just hang them up so you can what- make out with people all the time?” Mor asks, confusion etched on her face as she takes a sip of her wine.

“Sounds awesome,” Cassian says, taking another bite of porridge.

You sigh, “well you don’t really do it to just make out with people,” sending a pointed glare at Mor. “Previous people viewed it as sacred for it’s healing properties, and many view it as a symbol of fertility. It’s only really grown in the Winter Court, but it’s a fun reminder of who we come from.”

Rhys leans forward, “I’m still confused about the kissing thing, I get using it as decor, I suppose. But why kissing?”

“Like I said,” you say, taking a bite of your cereal, “since it survives the winter and blooms during it; many view it as a sign of prosperity and fertility, so maybe people started kissing under it to prompt further fertility.”

Cassian huffs, “you just made sex sound so boring.”

You roll your eyes and point at Cassian, “you’re the one who asked me about winter court traditions for solstice!”

He glares at you, “yeah, well I was hoping you’d tell me you all jump in the lake naked every year.”

You laugh, “oh so you’ve heard of the polar bear plunge?”

Cassian stills, turning his head to look at you with incredible speed. “So you do do it!”

“Well, I don’t,” you say, picking up your glass to drink, “at least, not anymore.” You say with a wink.

Azriel speaks up, his soothing tone taking over the room. “So if you’re caught under the plant, you have to kiss?”

“It’s bad luck not to. You don’t have to kiss on the lips, most people kiss on the cheek or on the forehead.”

You woke up the next morning, coming down the stairs, clinging to the robe wrapped around your nightgown.

Coffee, then getting dressed. That was your plan, after all. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, a big perk to living with early risers being that there’s always coffee ready when you roll out of bed.

You start moving for the doorway to the dining room, to see if anyone is eating so you can say hi, when something catches your eye.

Right above you in the doorway is a sprig of mistletoe, tied together in a bundle with a red ribbon, hanging from the doorway.

You look at it, just as pretty as they are in your memories, the vibrance of the green capturing your attention, when you hear shuffling behind you. You go to turn to see who it is, when a large hand envelops the right side of your face, bringing your left cheek into contact with something.

Not something, someone. Someone’s kissing you on the cheek. Before you can process what’s happening, the warmth that was pressed against you is gone, and Azriel comes striding into view.

“Good morning,” he says nonchalantly, walking out of the dining room, nodding to Feyre as he passes her and out of the house.

You whip your head around to see if anyone else witnessed what just happened, and you see Feyre sitting at the table, a spoonful of porridge stuck midway between the bowl and her mouth.

“Did you- did that - see?” You ask, your flustered state making Feyre giggle in amusement. You bring your hand up to your cheek where he had pressed his lips to you.

You wrote it off as him getting caught up in the idea of mistletoe, until a few days later when you were heading into the library. Your head was down, trying to focus on not sliding since your shoes were still wet from the rain. You look up in time to keep yourself from running face first into someone’s chest.

You reach your arms out to steady yourself against them, apologizing for running into them, until you look up and find Azriel’s amused eyes looking back at you. You look above him, seeing he has run into you right underneath the mistletoe.

“We have to stop running into each other like this,” you joke, as you motion with your finger for him to come closer. You stand on your tiptoes, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him on his left cheek, perhaps lingering a bit longer than you should. Breathing in his piney scent one last time, you pull back, letting him continue on his day.

That night the entire group went out to Rita’s, attempting to have some fun despite the busy season. It seems like these days all of you are working double time to ensure you can keep the day of Solstice free from work.

All of you head upstairs to your private room, just large enough for your group to comfortably lounge about. Azriel stays behind, waiting for a tray of shots to take up the stairs. You decide to stay with him, opting to keep him company while he waits. You would offer to help him carry the drinks, however the shadowsinger’s height allowed him to manuever through the crowd with the tray much more swiftly than you could.

“Is all your solstice shopping done, then?” You ask the shadowsinger, knowing he most likely had finished his shopping months ago.

He flashes you a grin, one he reserves only for you. “Mostly, just little odds and ends left.”

You gasp, “As I live and breathe, Azriel hasn’t finished his solstice shopping? It’s a week away- you’re usually finished by September!”

He rolls his eyes at your playfulness. “There’s one gift left I’ve been waiting for - I just have to go pick it up.”

He leans his left arm against the counter, his body facing the room surveying the area.

“Who’s it for?” You ask, trying not to get too flustered at how close his body is to yours.

He leans in closer to your ear, as he whispers, “Beron.”

He laughs, pulling away from you. You try not to let the disappointment of the loss of his warmth show on your face.

You huff and cross your arms, “fine then, keep your secrets.”

“What about you?” He asks, nudging your foot with his, “any last minute shopping to do?”

You went through the gifts you had bought for everyone, very impressed with some of them. You got Nesta an advanced copy of the next Sellyn Drake novel, some enchanted canvases that allow multiple paintings on them, showing them like a moving picture for Feyre, a hand knit sweater from Winter for Rhys, an exquisite wall mirror for Mor.

Yet you couldn’t figure out what to get the male in front of you. Do you go with simple, so he doesn’t think you tried too hard? Or do you go all out, lay all of your feelings for him out there?

Before you can answer, the bartender presents Azriel with the tray of shots, so you lead him through the crowd of people, walking up the stairs.

You go to turn around and make a comment about how unfair it is that he can manuever through the crowd so easily, when you feel him gently place a hand on your upper arm, sliding down, lifting your hand up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

Your cheeks heat immediately, as he lets go of your hand, pointing above the two of you, where someone has crudely hung a mistletoe plant above the top of the staircase.

He smiles at you, “tradition, right?“ before sauntering into the room to boisterous cheers that the alcohol has arrived.

The next few days pass and more and more mistletoe made appearances. You found yourself running into Azriel underneath them, wondering if he was catching anyone else under them.

Rhys was grumbling about his house being ruined by the plants, crudely hung by a nail from doorways, arches, balconies, really any surface, but the rest of you seemed to enjoy them.

Azriel wasn’t the only one you ran into underneath them, having run into Cassian a few times, who loved making a big show of it whenever you two were caught under one.

“Oh, sweetheart! We’re caught under the mistletoe! Whatever will we do?” He dramatically, and quite loudly, said to you one morning.

“Good morning Cassian,” you say, as he wraps his arms around you, planting an overly dramatic kiss to your cheek.

He pulls away, letting you go, starting to walk off, but he turns around and smirks while looking somewhere behind you before he’s gone. You look around, but can’t find anyone nearby.

You weren’tt the only one caught under the plant, with most members of the inner circle caught once or twice underneath the plant. You had caught a glimpse of Elain and Lucien underneath one, turning on the spot to provide them with some privacy.

You got caught under it with Nesta, who kissed you on the lips like her life depended on it. The kiss caused Mor to wolf whistle at you two, and Cassian had to pry Nesta off of you after he felt like it was lasting too long.

But it was mostly Azriel, him always catching you when you’re walking through a threshold where the mistletoe is dangling. He had kissed your forehead, your hands, the top of your head, but usually it was on your cheeks, and as much as you enjoyed the kisses, each time you secretly hoped he’d kiss you on the lips.

Rhys sighs, walking into the living room to find that Azriel and Cassian have already been by here, the room covered in mistletoe. From his beautiful crystal chandelier (a delicate heirloom, he grumbles), to the doorways where they’re crudely hung (those nails will leave holes!), to the ones hanging from the ceiling (really?), Rhys is tired of the plant.

The fresh scent of it coats the room, as he walks towards his mate and hangs his head in her shoulder. “What did I do to deserve this?” He grumbles to her.

She giggles, closing her book, “come on, it’s only a few more days, Azriel has some plan cooked up.”

His grip on her loosens, his body going even more slack against her, “yes but why does my house have to suffer for it?”

She coos, stroking his hair as he pouts.

“I think it’s romantic. Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining when I caught you under one last night.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, as Rhys begins kissing her neck.

As if he summoned them, Cassian and Azriel come back through, holding massive bags of mistletoe.

“I’m just saying, Az, you’re going through a lot of effort. I say you just plant one on her.” The general says, shrugging.

Azriel rolls his eyes at his brother, “Not everyone is wooed by someone just ‘planting one on them’.” He replies, using finger quotes at the end.

Cassian sets down his bag as a grin overtakes his face, “so you are trying to woo her.”

Azriel gives him a look that would terrify a lesser man.

“Considering the effort he’s going through, Cass, it’s quite obvious what he’s trying to do,” Rhys responds, “even though he’s ruining my house to accomplish it for a girl who looks at him like he created the night sky.”

Feyre tuts at Rhysand, as he straightens off of her. “Well, I find it sweet, Az. And this is my house too, so continue on.”

Azriel smiles at his high lady, grabbing Cassian’s bag of mistletoes as he walks out, blatantly ignoring Rhys and Feyre’s intense staring at each other as they are obviously arguing telepathically.

You had left for the day before Solstice to return to Winter to drop off some gifts, but hurried back to Night to be able to spend all day Solstice with your new family. You returned to find the house a green chaotic mess, with mistletoe hanging everywhere. Dozens and dozens of sprigs sprouting from the ceiling, almost looking like a garden on the ceiling.

You can’t find Azriel anywhere, unsure of where he’s gone off to. You actually get caught under a mistletoe with both Rhys and Feyre, each of them kissing you on the cheek, Rhys muttering something about not letting live plants in the house anymore as he pulls away.

You eventually retire to your room, deciding if you can’t find the spymaster, you’ll take a nap to prepare for the evening’s festivities. It’s the night before Solstice, and everyone seems to usually spend the days leading up to the holiday drinking their asses off.

Later that evening, after you took a glorious nap, a nice bath, and spent a while getting dressed and ready, you went up to Azriel’s door, knocking softly on the wood.

He opens the door after a moment, taking longer than he usually does, and he smiles down at you, his build taking up the entire doorframe.

“Hey Az, can you come to my room for a sec? I need your help.”

He nods, closing his door behind him, following you across the hall into your room. You open your door, letting him into your space, and shut it behind him. “What did you need help with?”

You pull out the box you had been holding behind your back, presenting it to him. “Open it,” you tell him, putting it in his hands.

The tips of his ears redden, “aren’t we exchanging gifts later?”

You smile, “yeah, but I wanted you to open this one now.” He undoes the ribbon on the box, opening the lid to find a piece of parchment. He sets the box down on your nightstand, standing up straight to unroll the parchment.

Neatly written in your handwriting are the words “Look up”. He does as the parchment says, looking towards the high ceiling of your room to find a small mistletoe hanging directly above the two of you.

“Happy Solstice,” you say, grabbing his shirt and bringing him towards you. You stand on your tip toes, bringing his face into yours.

At your words, Azriel swears he forgets how to breathe, much less think, as your lips cover his. You taste like cookies and coffee, a taste he wants to get lost in when he realizes he hasn’t moved, standing still like a complete buffoon.

He wraps his arms around you, deepening the kiss. He causes you to lean back, dipping you as he deepens the kiss.

When he pulls away, his eyes aglow with joy and humor, he reaches beside himself, pulling something from the shadows.

“If you’d like to open your gift,” he tells you.

You unwrap the wrapping paper, opening the box inside containing another sprig of mistletoe. You laugh, but Azriel starts speaking.

“I asked Kallias to bless it. It is an immortal sprig now. I just picked it up this morning from winter.”

He fidgets with his hands, a little worried this gift isn’t as great as he thought it was. “It’s a little piece of home to have year-round. I know how much you love Solstice.”

You smile up at him, “I love it,” and kiss him again.

He pulls back, obviously needing to tell you something. “Um- it was me, all the mistletoe around the house and everywhere we went.” He raises his hands to gesture all around. “Well it was mostly me, but Cassian helped a bit.”

He sighs, “he caught me one night, hanging them up. Nosy bastard,” you giggle. “So he insisted he help, then big blabbermouth told Rhys and Feyre.”

You laugh, appreciating how much effort he truly went to to do this.

“So I may or may not have been sitting in my shadows all week, waiting by mistletoes for you to walk by.”

Your jaw slackens at his admission, but before you can say anything, he continues. “Cassian beat me a few times when I was about to come out and kiss you. He’d gloat all night about it.”

The shadowsinger rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics.

“But what about the one at Rita’s? How did you do that one?” You ask, confusion lacing your voice. “I was with you the moment we walked in.”

He smiles, a shadow coming by you holding a sprig of mistletoe. “They can’t resist if I ask them to do something for you.”

You throw your head back to laugh, but he wraps a hand around your neck, capturing your laugh with his lips.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #acotar fanfiction #azriel fluff

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lipglossanon · 28 days

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Oh By Gosh, By Golly

<It’s Time For Mistletoe and Holly…>

Real Dad!Leon S. Kennedy x daughter fem!reader

• Prequel to Red Flags and Long Nights; this is the mistletoe ‘incident’ mentioned in passing from that fic 😉

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, INCEST, DEAD DOVE, kissing, sexual fantasizing, slight dirty talk, masturbation

not proofread, just a little quick fic 😉

Title from Mistletoe and Holly by ole Franky blue eyes 🤭

It’s late afternoon by the time you arrive at your parents on Christmas Eve. It’s kind of a pain in the ass to have to park on the street, but it’s what happens when you’re one of (if not) the last people to show up for their holiday party. Standing outside the front door, you brush your skirt smooth before ringing the doorbell. A very tipsy, very flushed looking aunt opens the door.

“Oh my god, look how big you’ve gotten!” She yells way too loudly, but it does the job and garners the attention of the rest of the party goers.

“Let’er get in the damn house before she catches cold,” an uncle gruffly states, nodding to you before making his way off to the living room.

You give her a polite smile as she ushers you the rest of the way inside, pointing out the various relatives you haven’t seen in years.

“There she is!” Your mom cries from her seat on the couch next to your dad.

“Hi,” a genuine smile crosses your face as you make your way over to them, setting your gift down under the tree.

“How was the drive?” Your dad asks, blue eyes glassy as he finishes off his whiskey.

“Not bad,” you answer, ducking down to give them each a quick hug, “the parking wasn’t great though.”

“Guess you’ll get here earlier next time,” he grins and your mom rolls her eyes.

“Drinks are in the kitchen, honey,” she makes to stand up but you press down on her shoulder.

“I’ll get it, mom.”

You’re at least five drinks in when you realize you’re on the drunk side of tipsy. But since you’re staying over for Christmas, you decide that one more definitely won’t hurt anyone (regardless of what future hungover you will think the next day).

You bump into a warm body as you leave the kitchen while they enter.

“Sorry,” you giggle, holding your drink up before it sloshes over the cup.

“No worries, sweetheart.”

You shiver at the low tone practically whispering in your ear. Turning, you come face to face with your dad who’s also looking like he’s on the drunk side of tipsy (maybe even the tipsy side of drunk). You laugh to yourself and he grins at you, crows feet appearing at the corner of each eye.

“What’s funny?”

“You wouldn’t get it, dad,” you pat his chest.

He takes after your mom and rolls his eyes but pauses before nodding up at the top of the door frame. Squinting in confusion, you tilt your head back to look and see a sprig of mistletoe stuck to the wood.

“Can’t leave til you give your dear old dad a kiss,” he teases, his hands cupping your jaw before he pouts his lips at you.

Finding it hysterical, you laugh softly before nodding, “Okay, okay, but now you can’t say I don’t ever listen to you.”

Both of you chuckle before Leon leans forward and presses a featherlight kiss on your lips, making you gasp in surprise at the tiny spark of arousal flickering through your veins. His eyes pick up on the change in your expression and he presses you against the door frame before kissing you more intently.

You sigh, lips parting as his hands grab your waist, fingers digging into your hips as his tongue dips into your mouth. Finding no resistance, only enthusiasm, he groans, the slick muscle licking into your mouth, spit messily dripping from your lips and making your clit throb.

You're unsure how long your dad keeps you pressed against the kitchen doorway, messily making out with you while he rubs his bulge against your thigh. Whimpering, you go to rock your hips, but the grip of his hands keeps you pinned in place, slick dripping into your panties from his assertiveness.

The loud slam of a door shutting down the hall breaks you two apart. You both stare at one another, eyes dilated as arousal throbs hot and heavy through each of you.

“I-I should-“

“Yeah,” his gruff voice makes you press your thighs together and his gaze darts down to the motion before dragging back up your body.

“Yeah,” you whisper, letting yourself give one last look to your dad’s kiss swollen lips before walking back to the living room on rubbery legs.

Catching up to your mom, you make some flimsy excuse about being tired and quickly make your way upstairs to your room. In no time, you change into your pajamas and climb into bed. Your head feels dizzy as you replay that dirty make out session from the kitchen. Whining to no one, your hand slips underneath the bands of your clothing to swipe across your slippery clit.

You can still smell your dad’s cologne, a heady mix of dark oak and cherry, that makes your cunt clench around nothing. Moaning quietly, you softly circle your swollen bundle of nerves as you daydream that you two went a little further. Pretending that it’s his own two fingers, rough and calloused, teasing across your pussy.

What if he would’ve pushed your skirt up? Seen the cute lacy panties you chose to wear that night. Would he like them? What if he just ripped them off, eyes greedily taking in your bare wet cunt.. watch as you drip slick all down your thighs just from some deep tongue filled kisses.

“Such a slut,” he purrs, “did your little puss get wet cause dad kissed you, baby? S’that it?”

That thought’s enough to push you over— orgasm cresting fast and hard, making your back arch and thighs shake as you cover your mouth to prevent too much noise from escaping.

Flopping down on your back, you let out a gusty sigh, pulling your hand out into the dim light of the room to see slick web between your fingers. Feeling too tired now to do anything, you lazily wipe them off on your sleep shorts, planning on washing them later. For now though, between the alcohol and cumming to the illicit thought of your dad, you fall asleep fast, leaving the crisis of the situation to be dealt with tomorrow.

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x y/n #mind the tags #dont like dont read #dead dove do not eat

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awoogaga · 4 months

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“Look what I have” Ace smirks as he holds a sprig of spiky-edged leaves and red berries over your head. He swings it back and forth. “You know the rules”

“That's holly,” You smile, amused at your boyfriend's mixup. His smirk drops slightly as he stares at the holly, confused. You pull out a bundle of teardrop-shaped leaves and white berries tied with a red bow. “This is mistletoe” You lift it over his head before giving him a kiss. It's soft and gentle, lips melding as he kisses back. He smiles into the kiss, dropping the holly onto the floor while his other hand comes to cup your cheek. When you pull away he's still smiling like an idiot.

“Either way I still got a kiss.” He retorts before he playfully snatches the mistletoe from your hand and holds it over your head. “Although I think I may need another one~”

#portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader

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threadbaresweater · 4 months

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simple gifts | higuruma hiromi

it's christmas and i'm delusional. Have this picture-perfect hallmark romance daydream with my current obsession. f!reader, who can blush and has straight hair. they also visit a church at the end. 1.3k words of sappy fluff because i couldn't help myself. divider by @/saradika

Higuruma Hiromi never realized just how romantic the Christmas season could be until you were at his side. Frankly, he found the season overly commercialized, redundant, and really nothing more than a cash-grab for retailers and entertainers. Not quite the Ebenezer Scrooge of his time, he still found little to be excited about in the midst of the holiday hustle and bustle.

That is, until he happened to glance at you one day as the two of you strolled downtown among the artisan shoppes and tucked away coffee houses; your eyes positively sparkled as you studied a festive window display, the smile on your lips overtaking your entire face. Large, fluffy flakes of snow fell atop your hair and settled in on your scarf, and the ruddy color settled high on your cheekbones set your skin positively aglow. You didn’t speak to him– charmed as you were by the decorations– but he found that he didn’t need you to say a word. Your excitement was palpable.

He squeezed your hand and watched as a particularly large snowflake settled on your eyelashes. You giggled and swiped it away with a gloved finger, turning to smile up at him. When you realized the fondness in his gaze, the rose of your blush grew a bit deeper, and you swung your hip against him playfully.

“Knock it off!” you giggled.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“You’ve been watching me the whole time. Don’t you like the decorations?”

He hummed thoughtfully, adjusting the cashmere scarf around his neck. “They’re nice. But your reactions are more interesting. You’re like a kid in a candy store.”

You pointed at a grand, evergreen wreath at the rear of the display, adorned with red velvet ribbons and a few well-placed sprigs of holly. “Wouldn’t that look nice on our front door?”

Hiromi nodded once, pondering your suggestion. He’d never decorated for Christmas before, and while he liked to consider himself a man of good taste, there had never been anyone in his life to help him decide.

Another thing he was grateful to you for. Without much effort, you brought an unprecedented joy to his life that he’d never thought possible. “If you say so.” It was the safe answer, this much he knew.

“Don’t just tell me what I want to hear,” you countered, wrapping your arms around him for warmth– and as an excuse to inhale his scent, to feel the wool of his coat against your cheek. “Do you like it or not?”

“I do."

At home, you pulled out box after box of decorations, much to Hiromi’s bewilderment. “Where on earth are we going to put all of this?” he asked. Lounging in his favorite chair, feet propped on a well-loved ottoman as he sipped a mug of spiced cider, he watched you. “And how did you manage to accumulate so many...things?”

Your answer came as a conspiratorial sort of laugh as you surveyed the mantle of their fireplace and the minimalist decor of the rest of the home. “These are things I’ve been gifted over the years. Some, I’ve had since I was a little girl.” you spoke slowly, thoughtfully, as you carefully unwrapped delicate figurines, charming knick-knacks, and scented candles, lining them up on the coffee table until you could decide where to place them. “Some are gifts from friends...colleagues...ex boyfriends…” The last words spoken earned you an arched brow and a deep frown, which you answered with a cheeky smile. “I’m just kidding, Hiromi. I wouldn’t keep such things.”

“I see your sense of humor is suffering from all the giddiness you’re caught up in,” was his reply.

You bounced up from the couch and threw yourself into his lap, linking your arms around his neck. Bringing your face mere inches from his, you grew serious, your eyes dancing, sparkling in the dim light of your living room. When you spoke, your voice was low, an over-the-top sensual whisper. “You know you love it.”

He closed the distance between you and claimed your mouth with his, then; a slow, exploratory sort of kiss, one that left you breathless and dizzy. Hiromi had kissed you hundreds of times before, but you never quite got used to the rush you felt with each silken slide of his lips upon yours.

“I have to put up these decorations,” you breathed when you parted, your fingertips trailing across his cheek as your eyes remained locked, his warm breath blowing softly against your mouth.

“Of course. Don’t go blaming me for getting distracted, though.”

After another quick, short kiss, you slipped away from him and set about your work while Hiromi took it upon himself to fan out the branches of your artificial tree. Grand, tall, and full– with pre-lit branches and a realistic charm– it stood proudly in the middle of the large picture window of their living room. Together, you hung bulbs, garland, and sentimental ornaments, while festive music played in the background.

Later, over takeout paired with expensive wine, you asked him, “What do you want for Christmas, Hiromi?”

It took him two fork-fulls of food and a sip of wine to answer while he pondered. you watched him curiously, legs crossed, chin in your hands, the smile on your face revealing your quiet anticipation to his reply.

“I already have what I wanted,” he stated simply after touching a cloth napkin to the corners of his mouth.

You pouted and fluffed the rice on your plate. “You’re no fun. Tell me. Isn’t there something you’ve been longing for?”

If you hadn’t been studying him so intently, you would have missed the subtle change in his expression, the rush of color to his otherwise even complexion. He cleared his throat and stood from the table, walking around it to stand in front of your, hand extended in an invitation.

Confused, curious, you laid your hand in his and allowed him to pull you to your feet and fold you in his arms. Thumb and forefinger lifted your chin so that he could look upon you with such intense affection that it made you misty-eyed. “Hiromi…?”

“You.”

“What?”

He sighed and hugged your close, swaying side to side while the music you had put on earlier continued to play. “It’s you. And now that you’re here, I can’t think of anything else I want,” he confessed, sifting your hair through his fingers. “But if you insist on giving me a gift…” he backed away from you, threading his fingers through yours and leading you toward your Christmas tree. You followed, sliding your stocking feet playfully along the wood floor; you would swear you felt his hand tremble when he released yours to pluck a small, red box tied with a simple white ribbon from atop the branches of the tree. your mouth fell open as you watched him place it into the palm of your hand. “Open it,” he implored, softly.

“But it’s not Christmas yet…” you murmured. He pressed a finger against your lips and shook his head.

“Just open the box.”

You obeyed; slowly, deliberately, you untied the delicate ribbon and opened the box to reveal a ring bearing the largest diamond you had ever laid eyes on. Hiromi lifted the ring from its pillow and sank to his knee in front of you.

“Will you give me the gift of being at your side for the rest of our lives?”

Hand clapped over your mouth, tears blurring your vision, you nodded furiously and watched with rapt attention as he slid the ring onto your finger. He stood and curled his fingers around your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth to kiss you, his own eyes damp with tears of relief, of overwhelming joy.

Late that evening, you stood together in the church of your youth– a stone cathedral with impressive stained-glass windows and aglow with candlelight, the ethereal sounds of a choir reverberating throughout the cavernous space. You sang the words to the carols you’d known since you was a little girl, Hiromi’s slightly out of tune baritone accompanying you quietly. Outside, the snow fell, blanketing the world in a pristine layer of glittering white.

In the warmth of the candlelight, you studied your ring– the symbol of Hiromi’s devotion to you. On the way to the church, you had talked about a Christmas wedding– next year, of course– and walked through the snow bundled in your winter coats, your excited laughter and breath visible as plumes of white against the indigo night.

“I love you,” you whispered when the hymn was over, just as the strains of the great pipe organ faded and the choir intoned their last note.

He turned to you and smiled, and for a moment, you thought your heart might stop.

“I love you, too.”

#higuruma hiromi x reader #jjk x reader

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simplepotatofarmer · 4 months

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i know for a fact that c!techno is the sort to have themed wrapping paper for each of his friends with matching ribbons or bows and even sprigs of holly or whatever and the presents are carefully wrapped (and like pandora's vault to get into) and when someone is like 'wow techno this is so sweet you put so much effort into even wrapping the gifts :D' he's just like 'i don't know what you're talkin' about i did no such thing anyway i made apple cider let's talk about that now'

#technoblade #loyal talks about stuff and things #dsmp headcanon #dream smp #c!techno

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multi-fandom-imagine · 6 months

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Are they on the Naughty List? Or have they’ve been good all year?Well that’s for you to decide.

Start:November 12

End: December 31

«timeline»

◇ day 1-7: {Nov 12-18}

Day 1: Luis Sera - Ice Skating

Day 2: Carlos Oliveira - “I can’t believe you did that to Santa…”

Day3: Raiden - “I made you some hot cocoa.”

Day 4: Peter Parker - we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party || Insomniac Peter ||

Day5:Goro Takemura- Dancing In The Snow

Day 6:Johhny Cage-Sucking on a Candy Cane

Day 7: Peter Quill- “are you really playing christmas music already? it’s barely november”

◇ day 8-14: {Nov 19-25}

Day 8:Gale Dekarios-Watching the snowfall from inside a cosy house

Day 9:Sam Drake-“Carmel apples, leaves falling down. What could better then November?” “I don’t know maybe fucking June?”

Day 10:Peter Parker -we got a little too carried away with the Christmas lights, and now suddenly my hands are bound with the lights and oh my god are we about to have sex? || Insomniac Peter ||

Day 11:Nathan Drake- it’s holiday dinner with your family, and oh Jesus where are your hands going?

Day 12:Peter Parker-“Do you need help hanging up the Christmas lights?” || MCU verse ||

Day 13: Peter Parker-“HAPPY NOVEMBER!” “No one wishes anyone a happy November.” “Well I just did.”|| MCU verse ||

Day 14:Tadashi Hamada-one lending the other their scarf to keep them warm.

◇ day 15-21 {Nov 26-Dec 2}

Day 15:Jacob Seed-Handing their S/O a positive pregnancy test with a sprig of holly and a note reading ‘Merry Christmas’

Day 16:Spencer Reid-Baking holiday cookies.

Day 17:Alejandro Vargas-Reader wearing nothing but a Santa hat

Day 18:Loki-A naughty sleigh ride || Exhibitionism sex ||

Day 19:Alex Casey-Build A snowman.

Day 20:Chris Redfield-“Let’s do something that puts us on the naughty list.”

Day 21:Mike Schmidt-Santa Baby: reader has decided to dress as Mrs. Claus for a little more “adult” Christmas fun. Oh boy!

◇ day 22-28 {Dec 3 -9}

Day 22:Matt Murdock-I picked you for secret Santa but I wrapped the wrong box so now I’ve given you a very festive sex toy, and oh my god this is so embarrassing

Day 23:Halsin-“Breasts/thighs are my favorite part to nibble on.”

Day 24:Miguel O’Hara-“You know, tying the legs together keeps everything moist.”

Day 25:Ethan Winters-Christmas Morning.

Day 26: Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish-Hanging Stockings.

Day 27:Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley-“The turkey’s not the only thing getting stuffed today.”

Day 28:Modern!Mizu-“Save some of that whipped cream for later.”*soon*

◇ day 29- 35 {Dec 10-16}

Day 29:Bigby Wolf-“You look even more beautiful covered in snow.”

Day 30:Harry Osborn-Christmas shenanigans under the tree, if you know what I mean

Day 31:Ethan Winters-“I’ll be content if you are the one stuffing my stocking.”

Day 32:Mike Schmidt-“Go on, open it.”

Day 33:Wyll Ravengard-“Did you decorate the tree without me? I can’t believe this!”

Day 34: Bruno Madrigal-Kiss Me Under The Mistletoe.

Day 35:Jordan Li-“Excuse me—where is my Christmas kiss?”

◇ day 36-42 {Dec 17-23}

Day 36:Mike Schmidt-"Why are there so many mistletoe?"

Day 37:Gojo“I’d like to be one of the unhealthy things you put inside your body this weekend.”*Soon*

Day 38:Luis Sera-“Alright, mister. I know you’re the one who keeps hanging up mistletoe everywhere."

Day 39:Chris Redfield-“Thanksgiving is for giving thanks” “And for body slamming each other during the family football match!”

Day 40:Aaron Hotchner-The scent of real Christmas trees

Day 41: Derek Morgan -“I’m going to have you stuffed better than the turkey by the end of the night.”

Day 42:Victor "Sully" Sullivan-“I’m not much of a cook, but I’m good at glazing.”

◇ day 43-50 {Dec 24-31}

Day 43:Leon S. Kennedy-Cabin Sex { Christmas Eve sex }

Day 44: Billy Butcher-“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!”

Day 45: Bucky Barnes-“Did you spike the eggnog again?”

Day 46: Spencer Ried-“Will you make a gingerbread house with me?”

Day 47: Clint Barton- “It’s Snowing”

Day 48: Joel-Peppermint-flavoured everything

Day 49:Mizu-Snow/temperature play

Day 50:Johnny Cage-“It’s time for hand turkey’s everyone.” “FUCK YES YES!”

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foolishlovers · 4 months

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CHRISTMAS FIC RECS: Below you can find a quick list of all the Good Omens Christmas fics I’ve read this year so far.

I thought some of you might want to indulge in some cosy reading as well!

You can request more fic recs here.

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree How Terrified Your Branches by Supergeek21 (1.2k, G)

As their first Christmas in their cottage approaches Aziraphale asks Crowley if he wants to get a proper Christmas tree. He's surprised to learn the demon already has one.

Christmas Angels by TawnyOwl95 (1.8k, T)

It’s starting to look a lot like Christmas in London and that means there are lots of angels about. Aziraphale does not handle this well.

A half-penny will do by penny_archer (2k, G)

It’s Christmas in Victorian England and Crowley is trying not-very-hard to hide the fact that he’s been giving pickpocketing lessons to the disenfranchised youth of London. Oh, and he has a cute gift for Aziraphale that’s totally not a big deal.

The Nice List by GaryOldman (2k, T)

When watching Christmas movies with Anathema, Crowley can't work out why no one else seems to believe in Santa when he's been receiving gifts for years.

A Christmas Miracle by Santillatron (3k, M)

Crowley gets irritated at couples kissing under a holly arch. One thing leads to another, and a sprig of mistletoe makes a timely appearance.

Well, it's bad luck not to, isn't it?

Taking the Cake by Caedmon (3K, T)

Aziraphale has noticed his handsome neighbor, but hasn't had an excuse (or the nerve) to talk to him. He gets his chance, though, when a bakery delivers a package to the wrong door a few days before Christmas and his neighbor comes knocking.

And All Was For An Apple by Lindewen (3k, T)

The second winter after the Apocalypse didn't happen, Crowley and Aziraphale are out for some sightseeing and Christmas shopping along the south coast, simply because they can. But Crowley also has a secret errand to run--and, as it turns out, he can't always balance very well in his human form...

All The Lights That Light The Way by FeralTuxedo (8k, E)

On the run from a disastrous work Christmas party, Anthony Crowley encounters an angel singing in the streets of Soho.

Of Love and Lattes by edna_blackadder (9k, G)

A.J. Crowley, part time barista at Madame Tracy's Coffee Shoppe, only wants one thing for Christmas, which is to get through the joyous season without his head exploding. His coworkers are already not helping, and then the proprietor of the bookshop across the street develops an unfortunate addiction to seasonal espresso beverages.

Secret Santa by AppleSeeds (18k, T)

On the advice of his therapist, Crowley signs up to be a 'Secret Santa', an anonymous gift-giver for a community initiative aiming to bring some Christmas joy into the lives of people going through a hard time. He's partnered with Aziraphale, a librarian who has lost his home and bookshop in a fire. Through the power of Christmas Magic, Crowley ends up meeting Aziraphale in person when he takes his nephew to the library and is immediately smitten. He becomes determined to use his expertise and influence to give Aziraphale the only Christmas present that could really make a difference, but are some things too important to be kept secret?

muddle through somehow by curtaincall (27k, T)

Aziraphale Fell runs a successful food blog, Celestial Comestibles, where he shares mouthwatering recipes and heartwarming stories about his happy domestic life in a cottage with his husband and son. As promotion for his upcoming cookbook, his publishers run a contest: one lucky winner will get to spend Christmas with Aziraphale and his family.

What the publishers don't know is that the real Aziraphale Fell is a single city-dweller. And if he wants to keep up his happily married persona, he'll have to acquire a cottage, husband, and son before Christmas.

As it happens, his friend and neighbor Anthony Crowley has his nephew staying with him for the holidays. One fake marriage proposal later, and everything seems tickety-boo--as long as Aziraphale can keep from developing inconveniently real feelings for his pretend husband...

First Class (Hons) Christmas, University of Tadfield. by heloluv (41k, M)

Dr. A.Z. Fell is a renowned literature tutor at the prestigious University of Tadfield. December is upon the University, and Dr. Fell is leading the Christmas Charity Drive. He needs volunteers.

Dr. A.J. Crowley is a skilled plant ecologist who recently began his tenure at UoT. He can't stand Christmas, and nothing at all could ever possibly convince him to partake in "festivities". Until a certain literary expert catches his eye.

A Christmas and New Years fic, in which Aziraphale teaches Crowley how to enjoy the most wonderful time of the year.

bonus: The Christmas fic I wrote this year

The Anon Before Christmas by foolishlovers (58k, M)

When Crowley’s friend, blogging buddy and business partner Anathema announces her annual Secret Santa Exchange on Tumblr, she is very adamant Crowley should join this year.

The old-fashioned (but admittedly compassionate) man he gets assigned to send anonymous messages to every day until Christmas sounds awfully similar to the fussy bookseller that his friends adore, yet Crowley tries to avoid at all costs.

But surely his friends would have mentioned if Aziraphale had taken an interest in the Bad Omens fandom as well… right?

Or: An Enemies to Lovers Secret Santa Tumblr AU.

#support so appreciated 💜#might add some if i read more the next few days!!#good omens #gomens #good omens fic #good omens fic rec #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #aziracrow #aziracrow fic #crowley x aziraphale #good omens christmas #good omens human au #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #foolish recs #go fic masterpost

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