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femmefatalevibe · 2 years

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Femme Fatale Playbook: How To Look More Expensive & Elevate Your Aura

Looking expensive or 'rich' is all about investing in yourself, your appearance, how you carry yourself, and not shying away from signature details or indulgences. Here are some tips to level up your look and demeanor to feel high-class in your daily life – no matter how much money you want to spend in these life arenas.

Appearance:

Prioritize Proper Grooming: Always looking clean and put-together is the ultimate sign of class. Shower daily. Brush, and take care of your teeth. Wash your hair on a regular schedule. Never allow your hair to look greasy – brush and blow dry it regularly. Cleanse, exfoliate, and moisturize every inch of your face and body. Perform your skincare routine religiously. Apply sunscreen daily.

Tailor & Steam Your Clothes: Freshly-pressed and well-fitting clothes always look infinitely more expensive – no matter their price point. Looking rich and expensive is about high self-regard and paying attention to the little details. Ensure your garments look crisp and clean – no wrinkles, pet hairs, loose threads, lint pieces, or fabric bulges highlighting an improper fit.

Create A Classic & Streamlined Capsule Wardrobe: Simplicity radiates a chic sophistication. Go back to the basics with timeless pieces – like a button-down blouse, a classic crewneck sweater, black trousers or straight-leg jeans, leather pants, a leather jacket, a trench or wool coat, a well-fitting cami or tee shirt, a simple slip dress, or a knit set. Focus on a neutral color palette – black, champagne, dark grey, chocolate brown, camel, or crisp white shades. Seek out elevated fabrics – such as Pima cotton, cashmere, washable silk, and buttery vegan or recycled leather.

Invest In Signature Pieces: Spend on "outer shell' items – coats, jackets, heavyweight knits, handbags, and shoes – that directly interact with the outside world and can be worn repeatedly with almost every outfit. Save on items like tee shirts or more simple jewelry pieces that can be found for less while still being fairly high-quality. I recommend Everlane, Lilysilk, and Naadam for affordable basics (Frankie Shop, Skims, and Norma Kamali for moderately priced pieces) and Catbird and Oma The Label for well-priced accessories. Here are all the everyday essentials you need to build the ultimate Femme Fatale Wardrobe.

Simplify Your Beauty Routine: Fresh, clear, and glowy skin radiates rich girl energy. A well-curated skincare routine should do half the heavy lifting. However, you will probably want to include a shade-matched foundation, concealer, and powder into your makeup routine along with a bronze contour, a rosy blush, and a subtle highlighter. Shape and fill in your brows for a polished look. Apply a deep black mascara to your lashes and luscious black eyeliner to your top lid, waterline, and tight line – keep the strokes thin and crisp (create a subtle wing if desired). Finish your face with a deep pink nude, red, or deep wine lipstick/gloss/lip tint. Here's a guide to the ultimate Femme Fatale Beauty Routine for a completely elevated (and sensual) look.

Eat Healthfully & Workout: Health is wealth. Taking care of your body shows self-respect – your most priceless asset. So, incorporate whole, plant-based foods into your daily diet and make it a priority to find movement you love that you can incorporate into your routine multiple times a week.

Lifestyle:

Streamline The Details: The rich girl aesthetic is all about refinement and looking put together at all times. Always have a set of matching pens with coordinating notepads on your desk, a uniform set of coffee mugs on the counter, coasters, glassware, sheets, pillowcases, cold-weather accessories, etc. This attention to detail instant makes your environment look more expensive.

Have Personalized Stationery: A high-value woman isn't shy about leaving her signature touch. Have personalized stationery (thank you notes, greeting cards, business cards, etc.) monogrammed and on hand for anytime you need to send a note or gift to a friend, coworker, boss, client, etc. This addition shows your attention to detail, leaves the recipient something small to remember you by, and adds a human touch to any gift or gesture. Try gold lettering on cream cards for an elegant, expensive look.

Keep Prosecco & Sparkling Water On Hand: Bubbly on a budget feels just as expensive as champagne (and tastes great too). Sparkling water elevates your daily H20 – add some lemon, lime, orange wedges, or frozen berries for a fancy, fruity twist.

Have Proper Place Settings: Neat, thoughtful presentation exudes class and rich energy. Whenever hosting any type of sit-down event or cocktail party, have the plates stacked, glasses and cutlery arranged correctly. Have all of the appropriate utensils readily available. Again, it's all about the details.

Stay Informed & Well-Read: A thirst for knowledge, learning and having the ability to engage in thoughtful, informed, and intellectual imbues a high-class radiance into any room. Read books, learn about different cultures and current events, and invest in studying different industries, and interests. Explore your hobbies. A rich mindset translates and generates an overall elevated aura.

Demeanor:

Learn Proper Etiquette: Address people by name, and offer a firm handshake. Maintain eye contact. Say "please" and "thank you." RSVP promptly. Communicate clearly and compassionately.

Maintain Good Posture: Shoulders back and relaxed. Open your chest. Keep your back straight and your head held high. Take up space. Command presence.

Master The Art of Engaging Conversation: Prioritizing self-presentation, learning how to listen, holding your own, and encouraging others to feel relaxed are the secrets to becoming magnetic in any social situation. Read more of my tips HERE.

Embrace An Abundant Mindset: Free your mind of limiting beliefs and notions of scarcity. There are plenty of opportunities, experiences, and emotions to go around. Another person's success doesn't take away from your potential. Focus on expansion, not envy.

Remain Confident & Unbothered: Believe in yourself. Invest in your well-being. Prioritize your goals and block out the noise from anyone trying to tear you down or criticize you for your ambition, goals, or desires. Stay in your own lane. Allow others to do the same. This is how you level up to elevate into your queen energy to create a rich life and design your dream reality.

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chere-indolente · 1 year

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Newlyn Fisher Clothing Set

I come to you today with this little historical seaside fashion interlude (before going back to work on more 1880′s sets). This set includes cable knit sweaters in high and low waisted, and variations on traditional fishermen smocks. More pics and download below

This set is partly inspired by the works of the school of Newlyn, a group of painters known to have depicted the surrounding of Newlyn, a Cornish coastal town, and its many fishermen in the 1880′s to 1900′s. And here is the painting that I referenced in the promo picture.

————————— Cableknit Sweater ————————

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This is the sweater from the Werewolf pack without the little laced up strings on the shoulders (why do you always add these unnecessary details EA ? 😅). I’ve made a short version (S) for my high waisted needs and a long (L) version, for both masc and fem frames, as well as both adult and children.

Cableknit sweaters originated from Ireland, in the Aran Islands, though other types of knitted jumpers called gansey already existed in the British, Irish and Channel isles. They were created between the 1890′s and 1900′s. They were initially knitted with unwashed and undied wool. Both the natural lanolin from the virgin wool and the knitted patterns made for water resistant sweaters and as such : good alternatives to the previously used ganseys made of oiled wool died with indigo.

These Aran sweaters slowly became some fashionable sportswear item during the 20′s and 30′s, and later reached its peak popularity in the 50s’ and 60′s worn by the likes of Grace Kelly and Steve McQueen.

40 solid swatches

for adults and children

2 lenghts : S & L

——————————— Vareuse V1 ——————————

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Vareuses are a style of fishermen smocks with a V neck. This style was typical of Brittany fishermen though I have seen depiction of Norwegian fishermen for example sporting this style of smocks on 1880s paintings too. While I couldn’t find substancial informations on their origins and date of appereance, vareuses seem to have been used at least as far as mid 19th century and were still worn as work wear up til the mid 20th.

It is said that traditionally fishers wore different colors depending on their fishing style : yellow ones for those shellfish picking, rust colored ones for those using fish traps, red ones for oyster farmers and blue ones for those fishing in the open seas.

Fishermen smocks were oiled to be water repellant and worn on top of clothes and knitted garments to protect them from water and keep them relatively clean.

On this 1st version of the vareuse I’ve not put any clothing “underneath” to allow for warm weather and for combinations with accessory shirts or turtlenecks.

33 solid swatches

for adults and children

——————————— Vareuse V2 ——————————

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This 2nd version of a vareuse include a cableknit jumper sticking out of the V neck collar. The set also includes an overlay to pick the color of said cableknit jumper.

33 solid swatches

39 solid swatches on the cableknit overlay (located in the right wrist section)

for all ages

————————— Cornish Crewneck ————————

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Similarly to the vareuse, the crewneck is a style of fishermen smocks. This style is traditionally associated with Cornwall, in the north west of England. Cornish crewneck smocks were used similarly to vareuses.

33 solid swatches

for all ages

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Download : dropbox — simfileshare

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mousedotjpeg · 4 months

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cw: price being a cutie patootie for his wife, tooth rotting fluff

John Price was quite certain that, of all the moments he's shared with you, this had to be one of his most treasurable. Each and every time the weather forecast predicted storms, from gale-force winds to a gentle Sunday shower, his sweet little wife insisted upon starting a pot of coffee and building a little nest in the nook of the windowsill; the spot he had built especially for you.

Without fail - not counting the times he was away from deployment - you'd always have a hot cup of coffee awaiting his arrival, and a warm pair of arms to fall into, surrounded by blankets and pillows. More often than not, you'd both end up foregoing the comforts of your own bed in order to bask in each other's arms, squished together against the window.

"Honey?" Stepping into your shared home, coat damp from the rainfall, John softly calls out to you. Just as he expected (and found himself looking forward to the whole drive home) the Wizard of Oz was playing at a low volume on the living room TV, blankets pulled from open cabinets, and your shared nest already neatly fluffed up with pillows and the aforementioned throws.

"Welcome home, handsome." You coo, catching him slightly off guard as you pad over from the kitchen. Immediately beginning to help him shed his soaked layers, you press a gentle kiss to his jaw, then his cheek, then finally on his lips. "Your coffee is on the counter. Go put some warm clothes on." You instruct, before giving him another chaste kiss.

Price groans appreciatively into your lips, hand giving your waist a soft squeeze before he's off to the bedroom, rushing to get changed into boxers and a loose-fitting crewneck sweater. Upon his return, you were precariously balancing two very full mugs, shuffling over from the kitchen to the living room. He's taking them from you with a chuckle, pressing sweet little pecks on your temple and forehead, then motioning for you to walk ahead to the windowsill.

Setting them down gently in the little square hole carved out by the window, (another handy little thing John insisted the builders add) John's quick to crawl onto the padded wood, making himself comfortable.

"C'mere, darling." He calls, voice gruff as he finally relaxes into the copious amounts of blankets surrounding him. The harsh wind and rain create a juxtaposing lullaby, his eyes already droopy by the time you're settling into his eager arms. With a contented smile, you drape yourself over your husband, the chill of the room quickly being chased off by his warm embrace. Turning so your back is to his chest, (so you could still see your favorite movie play out) you take a moment to fully appreciate the loving warmth radiating from your husband.

"You're like a space heater, y'know?" You murmur, words muffled against his chest.

"That so, love?" He responds, a breathy chuckle to his words. John is met with only a brief nod, then he's gathering you up further into his arms, squeezing your smaller body tightly against his.

"The main reason I married you, actually." You tease, meaning only a slight bit of it.

"And here I was, thinking it was jus' for John Junior." He concludes.

"Oh God..don't... don't call it that."

"Sorry, love. My cock. Thought it was all for my cock."

"Not sure that's any better, John."

"Mmph."

You giggle softly against him, prompting John to smile broadly into your hair. Shit, how he fucking loves that sound - he'd do anything just to hear it.

"Reckon it'll flood, dear?" He prompts after several minutes of silence, only to be met with the very same thing. John precariously tilts his head back, only to find you dozing off, cheek smushed oh so preciously against him. Reclining his head back onto his pillow, it only takes a few more moments of watching the little rain drops race to the bottom of the glass, and the captain's out like a light bulb, snoring loudly into your ear.

cute lil shitty drabble cause it's "raining fucking hard" down here in texas, and mouse loves rain. anyways, i feel like this one turned out like poopoo doodoo. next one will probably be Nik or Rudy. ~ mouse

#mouse's mess #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john price fluff #captain price fluff #cod x reader #cod x you #cod fluff #john price x you #cod price x reader

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itsallyscorner · 1 year

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The Grapejuice Blues | H.S

pairing: Harry Styles x fem!reader

warnings: none

summary: Harry surprises you with your favorite song off his latest album 🍇💜🍷

author’s note: first time posting since last year, so please be gentle <3

📍Horsens, Denmark

Open air arenas always had a different vibe to them. While they stretched far back and were a bit less intimate, something about performing outside was special.

You personally couldn’t say what it was like to perform on stage in front of thousands of people, but after seeing your boyfriend do it countless times, you could tell it was an addicting feeling. The music blaring, the fans singing, it was an adrenaline rush that had a sense of love and pride streaming into your other half’s bloodstream. Being outside with the clouds, the setting sun, and the occasional airplane or bird passing by only amplified that high. Don’t even get Harry started on the rain. He considered the shows that were rained upon to be the most memorable ones.

However, it seemed as though there wouldn’t be any rain at Horsens. The weather was impeccable. There was a slight breeze, wasn’t too cold or too hot, and the sun was out. Perfect weather for the start of the final leg of Love on Tour.

Tour coming to an end was bittersweet. You knew Harry would miss traveling and connecting with his fans. However, you were glad he was finally getting a well deserved break. While he did have a break between the three years he’s been touring, you were excited and a little relieved that he’d be spending time at home resting. No matter how many times he assured you he was doing just fine, you always worried that he was overworking himself. In all honesty, you couldn’t wait to have him home all to yourself—you wanted to sleep in and love up on each other till all the fatigue from tour rubbed off the both of you. Though for now, you were simply living in the moment since you knew you would eventually miss the craziness of touring.

Which brings you to today. You were currently in pit, along with Jeffrey, and Lloyd watching Harry go through his final rehearsal. You were sat on one of the equipment boxes, while the other two leaned against another. Jeff was watching to make sure everything was going smoothly, while Lloyd was there snapping some pictures. You lot have been there for about 30 minutes or so, and from what you have heard, Horsens was in for a treat. Not only were they getting She but they were also getting Stockholm Syndrome. To say you were jealous was an understatement.

“He’s really spoiling them, isn’t he?” You turn to Jeffrey who’s already smiling at you.

“He wanted to surprise everyone—keeping them on their toes as always.” He shrugged, glancing down at the new set list before him. Of course Harry wanted to keep them on their toes, “edging”, he liked to call it.

You rolled your eyes fondly at your boyfriend’s antics, “Such a tease.”

“Oh, you’d know, wouldn’t you?” Lloyd smirked, not missing the chance to snap a picture of your face after his comment.

“Piss off.” You muttered, reaching over Jeff and shoving Lloyd’s shoulder, only causing him to chuckle. Meanwhile on stage, Harry had just finished performing WMYB. The heat had started to get to him as he pulled off his neon green Pleasing sweater, and walked towards the end of the stage where you were.

Ironically you were all wearing some kind of merch from Pleasing. Lloyd had the beach bag over his shoulder carrying some of his camera equipment, while Jeff wore the black crewneck. You were in a more comfy getup, wearing the new brown sleepover shorts and the green crewneck. It was like your unofficial uniform as a crew, Harry found it wholesome in all honesty.

From the stage a smile can be seen on Harry’s face as he approaches you all. He crouches down before jumping off the stage and walking over to stand in between your legs.

“Hi baby.” You hum as he wraps his arms around your waist. His face had a slight tan and was shiny, mostly due to the sweat he’s accumulated from the sun. One of your arms wrap around his shoulders, not bothered by the slight sweat beneath his shirt, as your other reached to grab your hydro flask with water.

“Hiya lovey, what d’you think about the set list so far?” He asked you, silently thanking you for the water by pressing a kiss to your jaw. As he drank you responded, “It’s perfect, I think it’s one of the best line ups you’ve had during the tour.”

His one arm remained around you while the other held the hydro flask. He takes one more sip of water before asking, “You think?”

You tilt your head at him and send him a reassuring smile, “Yup, they’re gonna love it H, I promise.” Unable to resist the urge, you ran a hand through his dark brown locks, slightly damp strands of hair tangling with your fingers.

Harry hummed happily at the action, a boyish grin on his pink lips. He was ecstatic that you were able to come along for tour, your job often made it difficult for you to join him for long periods of time, but fortunately with the power of the internet, your boss allowed you to work remotely. Knowing that you were there watching him and would eventually greet him as soon as he finished on stage soothed his nerves. He knew that whatever happens on tour, everything would be alright since you were there. You made him happy and everybody else can agree.

Unbeknownst to either you or Harry, Lloyd managed to snap a quick picture of you both. Not that Harry was always all over the place, but he’s the most relaxed whenever you were around and to see him so calm prior to a show was a pleasant sight for the photographer.

A toothy grin replaced the smile on Harry’s face as he began to pull you off your makeshift seat.

“C’mon, you’re gonna wanna be on stage with me for this.” He pushed you closer towards the stage, walking behind you and gently grasped your hips. You look around confused, “What do you mean?”

“Jus’ get on stage w’me, I have a surprise I think you’ll like.” He slightly teased, motioning for you to jump. You side eyed him for a moment before Harry helped you climb onto the stage. He followed after, effortlessly lifting himself up from pit.

“What are you up to?” You squint up at him as he grasps onto your hand. He leads you towards the center of the stage with that sly smirk on his face.

Harry stops in front of his mic then turns to you, “Will y’stop worrying, you’ll like it babe, I swear.”

He looks over his shoulder and shows a thumbs up towards the band. Suddenly, you heard the infamous opening beats of one of your favorite songs from Harry’s latest album.

You jaw dropped and your eyes widened as you stared at Harry. He couldn’t help but let out a giggle at your reaction.

“You’re playing Grapejuice?” You screamed over the horns and the rest of the band playing behind you. Goosebumps formed on your skin at hearing Grapejuice live in all its glory.

Harry stepped closer towards you, one of his hands gripping his mic and the other on your hip to pull you in closer.

He leaned down towards your ear, “Yep, but I wanted to enjoy it with you before I sing it in front of everyone else again.” His lips then pressed a kiss onto your temple.

Your heart swelled at how precious he truly was. Sure, it was rehearsal and he had to practice the song regardless. But it was the fact that he wanted to rehearse it beside you because he knew it was your favorite song. You weren’t allowed to dwell in your thoughts any longer since Harry began to sing the song to you.

The entire time he held your hand as he directed the song’s lyrics to you. Meanwhile, you sang with him, your body moving alongside his dancing to the swinging melodies of his song.

Down at pit, Jeffrey and Lloyd watched the both of you dancing like a pair of idiots—a pair of cute in love idiots. Lloyd had a blast taking pictures, reminding himself to send them to Harry at the end of the day.

“Save those for the wedding.” Jeffrey told Lloyd. The blonde rolled his eyes and tilted his head at Jeffrey.

“I’ve already got an entire hard drive, should I start making the slideshow now?” Lloyd joked, causing them to chuckle amongst themselves.

As the song came to a close, Harry pulled you close again.

“Y’know why I decided to include it in the set list?” He questioned you.

You shook your head, “Nope, why?”

“S’because you’re finally able to come on tour with me, so as a thank you I wanted to play your song every night to make you happy.” He explained. Your lips pouted at how thoughtful he was, he truly kept exceeding your expectations.

“You really didn’t have to bubs, but I really appreciate it.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him. Your lips placing soft kisses along his neck.

“I know but I wanted to.” He muttered into your hair, arms locking you in against him.

“I’m the happiest when I’m with you.” You sighed contently into the crook of his neck as Harry hummed in response. By now, you were both swaying in each other’s arms, enjoying one another’s presence.

“The fans are gonna go mad.” You chuckle against him.

“Well they have you to thank, don’t they?”

“I guess they do.”

#Harry Styles #Harry Styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles drabble #harry edward styles

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riptide-if · 3 months

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Arlo Song [he/him, 23] has always been a steady presence in the background. Despite knowing each other for a decade, there always seems to be a wall up when you try to approach him. Cordial and nice is all you ever seem to get from him, but how he behaves around his family is a different story. Barely stifled laughs at his sister's antics. Tight hugs given to his father. Soft smiles shared with his mother. A usually kind and patient man Arlo is fiercely protective of anything he cares about. Whether you're included in that is up in the air.

Arlo stands at 6'2 with a buff and heavyset build. He has honey skin, which fades to a warm beige in colder weather. His face is heart-shaped with beauty marks under his left eye, point of his nose, and underneath the right side of his lip. His eyes are dark brown, nearly black. He has short, straight, black hair. The front of his hair just about reaches his eyebrows and the back reaches the end of his nape. The sides reach the middle of his ears. His usual clothing style resembles that of a slightly subdued kindergarten teacher; soft colors, overalls, crewnecks, jeans, sweater vests, sneakers. He is almost always wearing a painting apron. His jewelry varies though he consistently wears small gold hoop earrings and several leather band bracelets. A minimalist sun tattoo is on the inside of his left arm; his sister has a matching one.

#character intros #about: arlo song

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laracrofted · 1 year

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we'd run inside out from the cold (part ii)

synopsis: after a quiet moment in the snow, jake and his girlfriend warm up with a midnight shower. (read part one here)

pairings: jake seresin x fem!reader (no y/n, c/s is butterfly)

warnings: 18+, minors dni, fluff and smut - shower sex and oral (f receiving), mentions of christmas, excessive use of pet names, waxing poetic about jake in sweaters, swearing (wc: 2.5K)

note: welcome to the steamier (lol) part two of the soft christmas fic... aka the shower smut that jake implied against my best intentions. enjoy!

tag list for people who wanted a part two: @theharddeck @six-bloodyminutes @thedroneranger @blue-aconite @dhwanishah09

It is pitch back in the living room without the glow of the Christmas lights, but Jake finds your hand in the dark, engulfing your still chilled fingers in his reliable warmth.

You’d forgotten to grab the spare mittens on your way outside, the ones from the shoebox in the hall closet that Ms. Seresin showed you on your first afternoon here.

“Shit,” Jake lets out a hushed curse, cradling your one hand between his palms. Hot breath blows across your cold fingertips in the darkness. You smile where Jake can’t see. “You’re freezing. Let’s get you warmed up.”

You expect him to guide you up the stairs, steering you around the steps that might creak too loud, lifting you over the third and second-to-last steps like last night. Hands, a familiar heat around your waist.

He pulls you in a different direction, further into the house.

Snow is floating down outside the paned window at the end of the dim hall, casting everything in a soft white glow. Moonlight winks off the assorted picture frames, hung slightly crooked on the old wallpaper after Ms. Seresin took them down to show you the young Jake Seresin highlights one by one. He had the chubbiest little cheeks as a child and the same up to no good smile.

He tugs you into the bathroom, gently closing the door behind you, careful not to let it slam and break open the fragile silence.

It is so quiet, so serene. Like the Seresin ranch exists in a freshly shaken snow globe, not a sprawl of land outside Austin, Texas.

Something from a dream.

“Don’t want to run the upstairs shower and wake Ma up.”

You lean against the bathroom counter, arms crossed over the fabric of the worn crewneck sweatshirt that is really his, stolen from the top drawer of his dresser back in San Diego. You’ve been ‘borrowing’ it for months now without the slightest intention of giving it back, and Jake doesn’t mind one bit.

He likes you in his clothes.

Jake darts around the bathroom, gathering a pile of fresh towels from the closet, pulling back the shower curtain and cranking the water on. He checks the temperature once, twice, and in the process, pushes the sleeve of his white sweater up to his elbows, revealing a tantalizing stretch of forearm.

You are loving the cold weather for festive activities, but Jake has had to hide away all of that hard muscle this week under wool sweaters and flannel button-downs and in the case of the Christmas Tree Farm this afternoon, a denim jacket with a lined collar that made him look like an outdoorsy Abercrombie model.

Winter is... admittedly an excellent look on him.

Who knew that Jake would look so good – and so much like a long-lost Chris Evans relation – in a fisherman sweater? He looked so classically handsome, straight out of one of those vintage L.L. Bean catalogs.

Sweater Jake was appealing in a way that surprised you both.

You, upon seeing him come down the stairs on that first night, wearing a thick cable knit sweater and flannel pajama pants, looking cuddly enough to make your heart ache.

Him, upon sneaking into your room later that night, which ended with your sleep clothes strewn across the blankets and your boyfriend’s large hand across your mouth to muffle your moans.

“Might I remind you… We agreed not to have sex in the house,” Jake mumbled into your neck afterward, too amused to sound chastising. He rolled onto his side and half-pulled you onto his bare chest, pressing an affectionate kiss to your temple, interlacing your fingers on his stomach. “You’re the one who suggested that rule.”

He had you there.

You had suggested that rule, nervous to go home with your boyfriend for the holidays, despite Jake’s repeated insistence that all of the Seresin women would adore you to bits. You didn’t want to give them any ammunition to dislike you – and especially not overheard sex noises in the dead of night after Ms. Seresin had so kindly made up the guest room for you.

“You wear the hell out of a sweater, babe,” was the only drowsy explanation you could provide, pushing up to leave an open-mouthed kiss on his jawline that made his breathing stall… which led directly into another round when Jake rolled you under his weight and pressed you into the pillows.

Still…

You’d taken the mild San Diego weather for granted. Being able to see Jake in fitted tees and on the cooler nights, unbuttoned Henleys that gape at the neck, giving a delicious sneak peek of that gold chain.

You haven’t seen his washboard abs in such good lighting all week.

You stare. More than is warranted, given Jake is your boyfriend and would probably rip off his shirt upon request without any follow-up questions.

Muscles ripple in his abdomen when Jake pulls his sweater over his head, revealing even more tan skin. You want to drop to your knees and run your tongue along the line of his abs. Want to lick up his chest and get comfortable in that spot under his jaw that makes him moan.

You should probably take off your sweater too and avoid hypothermia and get in the shower and all of those important details.

You keep staring instead, absolutely shameless, and Jake catches you.

A smirk pulls at his mouth. “Planning to maul me again, darling?”

Are you drooling? Probably a little bit.

“Do you think Mav would let you wear sweaters in the cockpit?”

He pretends to consider it. “Might get a little warm up there,” Jake says after a few seconds. Heat simmers in his gaze as Jake watches you back, pulling his bottom lip between his white teeth, and reaches out to sneak his index finger under the hem of your sweater. “Wool is probably a little more flammable than the Nomex too.”

“Better than frostbite, right?”

His smirk widens into a full-blown grin, and Jake pulls you into an embrace.

“Frostbite is no laughing matter,” Jake says against the back of your neck, tugging the collar of the sweater away and pressing a chaste kiss to your nape. Goosebumps erupt over the skin. “Better get undressed there, Butterfly, before I have to do it for you.”

Butterflies flutter in your stomach, as if invoked, and despite the mild threat, Jake doesn’t give you the chance to get undressed.

Calloused palms slide along your bare back, tugging the sweater over your head, careful not to snag your hair. You push your pants and underwear down in one motion, casting off your socks along the way, and after shedding his own flannel pants and boxers, Jake bands a strong arm around your waist and tucks his chin over your shoulder.

He is a damn furnace against your back, already half-hard.

You swallow, and Jake studies you in the bathroom mirror, ghosting his fingertips across your stomach. A promise that makes every part of you tighten, and Jake presses a grin into your shoulder, kissing the small scar there.

“Let’s get in the shower.”

Steam rises around your bodies as Jake pulls the curtain closed and looks down at you. Affection warms his face, a soft glow. Fingers trace down your arms, somehow still covered in goosebumps from sitting out in the snow, and Jake asks, “Still cold?”

Not really.

Not since before your boyfriend kissed you a few minutes ago, whispering dirty things in your ear about not being able to walk tomorrow. Not when Jake is looking at you like that with such adoration and tenderness and blatant desire in his green eyes.

You catch a wicked gleam in his gaze, underneath it all, and decide to invite a little trouble. Make a whole show of shivering in a way that draws his split-second attention to your chest.

“A little bit.”

He leans in, naked chest pressed against yours, warm water cascading over your heads and down your back. Presses a white hot kiss to the center of your collarbone, then lifts your chin with one finger and nibbles up the side of your neck in a way that makes your lids flutter closed.

“Think I’ve got a good way to warm you up.”

You’re facing him one minute and the next, Jake spins you to face the shower wall, pressing his whole body against yours. It is cold against your cheek and your bare chest. You shiver and complain, and Jake makes a sympathetic – if a bit mocking – noise against your throat.

“Jake…” You don’t mean to sound so unbalanced. You love the man, but Jake doesn’t need the ego boost right now.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Jake says again, bringing back the same words from earlier, the same thread of teasing condescension in them. “Told you I’d go easy on you, didn’t I?”

You don’t think Lieutenant Jake Seresin has ever gone easy on a damn thing in his life and have every intention of telling him so, but he is quicker to the draw. Every thought vanishes from your brain when Jake glides his hand down your stomach and touches you.

“God, darling…” He practically moans the words, rocking his hips against your back, which makes you push against the palm that’s there for you to grind against. He wants you to do it, to take your pleasure from him like that. “You’re so wet. How long’ve you been like this?”

Since the Christmas Tree Farm.

“No one has ever…” You start strong, but Jake runs his fingers through the slick wetness again, causing you to take a quick breather. “…chopped down a Christmas tree for me, okay? You were like a sexy lumberjack.”

His chuckle is a low hum against the shell of your ear, and Jake abruptly withdraws his fingers, turning you around. You catch a flash of tongue as Jake slips his shining fingers into his mouth and sucks on them.

God. Damn.

“What do you think Mav will say when I tell him the news?”

You stare at him, confused, brows knitting together, and Jake looks too amused and proud at his own wittiness to leave you in suspense.

“Obviously, I won’t have time to be a fighter pilot while I’m learning how to become a full-time lumberjack for you.” Water drips from his lashes, making his eyes look liquid warm. “Is it just chopping down trees that gets you this hot? Can I maybe split some firewood instead? Might be more cost effective, less time consuming.”

A giggle escapes your lips, and Jake laughs too, capturing the hands that want to cover your flushed cheeks. He winds his fingers through yours, pressing them back against the slippery tile.

“Stop it, Jake. You don’t need to change careers for me. You’re a damn good pilot, a great one. Just…” You gnaw the edge of your lip, studying a freckle on his shoulder, letting the words out in a hushed tone. “I’d settle for one tree every Christmas.”

You meet his eyes, parsing out if Jake gets your meaning.

You want every Christmas with him.

Every damn one.

Tenderness shines in his eyes. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

You don’t have time to appreciate the warm and fuzzy feelings inside your chest because Jake rewards you with a too short kiss on the lips and then, smirking again, sinks down to his knees.

“Now,” Jake says, looking up at you, splaying his hand across your stomach to hold you upright, “I think I said something about warming you up, sweetheart. Can’t have you go into Christmas cold or unsatisfied. What kind of boyfriend would I be then?”

Any response evades you as Jake hooks your knee over his shoulder and dives right in, not even pausing to rev you up with teasing. Why bother? He already managed that with the damn Christmas tree.

He spreads you open with his fingers, licking wet strokes across you. His non-regulation stubble chafes against your thighs, almost definitely leaving an angry beard burn that’ll hurt in your jeans tomorrow.

You couldn’t give less of a shit right now.

“Taste so good, darling,” Jake says, pulling back to sink one thick finger into you, then adding another, watching your face the whole time. “Sweeter than those Christmas cookies.”

What a fucking cheeseball of a man. You’d roll your eyes if Jake didn’t already have them rolling back in your head.

Coyote, Rooster, Phoenix… None of them would believe that Jake was such a walking Hallmark movie. He doesn’t let anyone else see this side of him.

“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. Ain’t that right, darling?”

You nod, dropping your head back against the shower wall with a gentle thump, and Jake swirls his broad tongue over your clit, once, twice, then… pulls back and looks up at you with expectant smugness.

“Don’t think I caught that. I’m the only one who…”

You stifle a snort, rolling your eyes this time. Such an ass.

He ghosts the slick pad of his thumb across your clit, teasing and taunting. You almost lose your balance, stretching out a hand to grasp at his shoulder, and Jake flashes you a self-satisfied grin.

“You’re the only one.” You nod fervently, digging your nails into his shoulder, canting your hips closer to his face. You can practically feel his breath against you, only centimeters away. “Come on, Jake…”

He closes his lips around you, curling his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot that makes your mouth gape open. His words are increasingly fragmented, bits and pieces of unintelligible nonsense as Jake encourages you to rock against his face. You are damn near floating with the pleasure of it all.

“You’re so pretty like this.”

“No one can hear us down here, darling. Let me hear those wonderful sounds.”

“You’re it for me. Please…” Jake asks, begging, pleading, worshipping you.

You reach the precipice and fall over the edge in a whirlwind of bright spots that look like Christmas lights. Look like the December moon reflected and refracted in the fresh snow. It is absolute heaven.

From there, Jake could easily get up from his knees, push you back against the tile, and slide right into the spot between your thighs that’s wet and aching for him, waiting to be filled. But he stays right there, kneeling between your legs, absentmindedly stroking himself with one hand.

Looking at you like the luckiest man alive.

“Give me one more, darling,” Jake gently orders, then goes back in with enthusiasm, holding your shaking thighs in place over his shoulder.

You stay in the shower long enough to make the water run cold, and in the steam-filled bathroom, Jake gathers your limp form in his arms and bundles you both in fluffy towels... that end up immediately abandoned on the carpet of the guest bedroom.

And after kissing every inch of your body, holding your hips hard enough to leave bruises, and fucking you into the soft sheets with stuttered breaths, fingers interlaced with yours, pressing kisses against your back to muffle his own groans, Jake holds you against his side.

He brushes your hair back from your face, still damp from the shower, repeating the motion, tracing the curve of your jaw and the shell of your ear, back and forth.

And with the soft rush of snow blowing against the window, Jake whispers, “Merry Christmas, Butterfly.”

end note: wishing you all a happy and safe holiday and a hot, cuddly boyfriend under the christmas tree. send me all your thoughts and feelings!

(and since it didn't make it into here, i actually do have a hc for the call sign butterfly, so i might revisit these two again sometime!)

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin fic #hangman fluff #hangman smut #laracrofted writes #fic: jake seresin

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