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violentdelightsandviolentends · 5 months

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Rest Had Seemed The Sweetest Thing.

Bucky's slowly learning that love isn't a finite resource. aka, Bucky's first Christmas.

pairing - bucky barnes x female reader

warnings - none!! just tooth rottingly sweet fluff <3

word count - 1.7k

author's note - based on these two requests!! i'm also trying a new post format... what do we think?? I promised you i'd get a couple of xmas fics out before the 25th... I lied. apologies!! forgive me. title taken from the poem The Owl by Edward Thomas.

as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics. thanks, angels <3

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He whispers the words, timid and reserved, directly into your ear as if he's worried someone else will hear. It's only the two of you sat on the couch in your shared apartment, but Bucky's nervous.

Your head whips around in shock, trying to play it cool. Failed.

"Are you... are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

You grin, big and blinding, the beams of it radiating into Bucky's bones. It settles into his muscles, eases the tension from his shoulders.

You try not to make a big deal of it, try to keep your excitement under wraps. But you've been waiting for him to say those words for almost six years.

"I want to do Christmas this year."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

He hates the cold.

No, he's traumatised by the cold.

Years spent frozen, genetically modified and locked in a glorified freezer. Every gust of wind, every flake of snow reminds him of the darkest days with no light to be seen. His blood may run hot, but he feels like his heart is yet to thaw. He debates moving to the desert at least ten times a day.

Then he looks at you. How happy you are when winter comes around. The way your face lights up when it snows. And he figures that if it brings you this much joy... maybe he can tolerate it.

He bites back the chill, grits his teeth at the icy breeze, ignores the shudder of the cold all the way down to his bones. He grins and bears it, because you love it. He thinks you don't notice.

You do.

You've known ever since you met him. His demeanour changes when the winter comes around. He gets a little tentative around the autumn time, as if he's preparing himself for the worst. And then the first snow falls, and he's different. Guarded. Careful. Reluctant. He puts a fake smile on his face and pretends, but you're nothing if not completely in tune with everything Bucky Barnes.

You never asked, never pried. Just stood steadily by his side, regardless of the walls he'd placed around himself. Around his heart.

He broke down one night, wrapped up in bed with you. A chill had blown through your old apartments rickety windows and unearthed old memories, ice running into his veins. He was sure his tears were frozen as they dripped down his face.

You understood him better, since that day.

You've tried to suggest moving in subtle and not so subtle ways, but he won't have it. He knows this is your home. He knows you like it here. He knows he can stay, if he works a little harder on himself.

So, he tries. Every single day, he tries. And that's all that matters.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Okay, so... ground rules. Hit me, Buck. We do this on your terms."

He thinks for a moment before turning to face you.

"I want it to be just us. No one else."

"Done."

"And I don't wanna do the whole Christmas dinner thing. Feels like too much all at once."

You fight the urge to burst into tears at how easily he's communicating with you, how effortlessly he's enforcing his boundaries. You've come a long way.

"Done. Agreed, by the way. Fuck Christmas dinner. We'll do our own thing."

He grins at you, leaning in to kiss you slowly, tenderly, leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world.

"I want to get a tree. And lights. We don't have to do all the ornaments and stuff, but lights would be nice."

"I have an artificial tree in the back of the storage closet... is that okay?"

"Perfect. I don't want to stand on all the pine needles, anyway."

Laughing, you shift closer to him, tangling your legs together on the couch.

"And no gifts for me."

"But Buck-"

"Angel. I don't want anything. I have everything I need sat next to me."

You roll your eyes, but you can't wipe the smile off your face.

"This isn't fair, suddenly."

"It's plenty fair. You stress too much when you buy gifts, and this is going to be a stress free Christmas. Understood?"

He hooks his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Understood," you whisper, swinging your knee over so you're straddling him. "Stress free."

Bucky tilts his head up to kiss you, gentle at first, then firmer when you roll your hips into his. He's a little distracted, admittedly. He got you to promise not to get him anything, but made sure you wouldn't ask the same. His mind runs a mile a minute, trying to wrack his brain on what kind of gift to get for the love of his life, the person that saved him and continues to save him every single day.

He comes up empty, but lets you kiss the thoughts away for a little while.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"My mom taught me this specific way to hang lights on your tree. Look, grab this end and I'll show you."

You're both still in your pyjamas, fire roaring, a jazzy Christmas melody playing from the radio. You decided you wouldn't put up your tree until the day before, to save Bucky from feeling overwhelmed. It's worked, so far - he looks plenty relaxed as he chuckles and rises from the armchair.

"You're tall, so hold this above your head so they don't tangle."

You work diligently, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Bucky's happy to watch you, fighting the smile off his face every time you sigh in exasperation. Eventually, you step back and admire your masterpiece, satisfied and content.

"It's beautiful, baby," he whispers, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

He presses a kiss into your neck, then another, then another. Your eyes slip closed, and you sink into his embrace, feeling more at peace than you ever thought possible. You spend the evening by the fire, lying on the rug, room illuminated by the lights on the tree.

It's perfect in every way.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Merry Christmas, angel."

"Merry Christmas, Buck."

His hand finds yours under the duvet, pulling you in close. You tangle yourself around him like lights on a tree, all encompassed by his warmth.

"What's the plan for today, Sergeant?"

He presses a kiss into your temple, propping himself up on his elbow so he can see you properly.

"I say we make some breakfast, spend all day on the couch, and then maybe make some dinner? I know we said we wouldn't do a traditional Christmas dinner, but it'd still be nice to take the time to cook something."

"That sounds perfect."

In the kitchen, you make pancakes with copious amounts of maple syrup, strawberries and pieces of banana strewn across your plates.

"My Mom made us pancakes every Christmas morning, you know."

"You've never told me that."

"I know. I kind of refrained from ever talking about anything festive, because I didn't want you to feel guilty."

"For making you miss out for so many years?"

"I haven't missed out, baby. I chose not to do Christmas because I love you. And that love takes precedent over everything else."

Bucky kisses you then, across the kitchen table, full and golden and so full of love you almost fall off your chair. He tastes like blueberry jam and syrup and coffee, and you wish you could bottle it up and stick a little under your tongue when you get homesick.

"What changed?"

"Hmm?"

"Why now? I would have been content to never do Christmas again, if it made you happy."

"Because I realised something, a couple of months ago. We were sat in the park, and you were laughing at that dog chasing the boomerang. The sun was making you glow, like some sort of angel, and I just knew. I can do anything with you by my side. I can't put my future on hold because of my past."

You're fighting back tears as you look at him, so happy and content. You never thought this was possible, when you first met him.

And here you are.

Celebrating Christmas, showing him your childhood traditions, making pancakes like your Mama used to. You're sat at the kitchen table as the snow falls outside and the warmth that Bucky's love brings is keeping the chill at bay.

It doesn't get better than this.

"I got you something," he murmurs almost sheepishly.

"Bucky-"

"Don't yell at me! I know it makes me a hypocrite, I know I said no gifts, I know."

You roll your eyes, but watch his every move as he gets up and leaves the room. You finish your breakfast and put both of your plates in the sink, turning on the tap so they can soak. When you turn around, Bucky has returned.

He's on one knee.

There's a ring between his fingers, glinting in the winter sun. You're both still in your pyjamas, warm and full, not quite having shaken off the heavy embrace of sleep just yet.

It's perfect.

"Maybe it's cliche to propose on Christmas day, but... I want to replace all of my old memories with new ones. Memories like this."

You walk over to him, kneeling down in front of him so your eyes are level.

"You've taught me what love is, baby. And I can never repay you for that. But I can certainly try. Every day, I can try."

There are tears dripping down both of your cheeks, Bucky's grin matching yours. The two of you are overwhelmed in the best way, unsure of how to process the gravity of what you're feeling.

"Marry me, baby. Let's do this forever."

You lunge forward and smash your lips to his, laughing into his mouth.

"Yes," you breathe when you pull away. "God, yes. A million times yes, Buck."

His arms wrap around your middle as he picks you up, twirling you in circles around the kitchen, both of you shrieking with joy.

Bucky slips the ring onto your finger when he puts you down, both of you tilting your heads to admire it.

"I love you," you murmur, leaning up to press your foreheads together. "The cold can't touch you now, baby. This love will warm us forever."

The cold can't touch him now. Love will warm him forever.

@lizzystuffsthings <3

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me-writes-prompts · 6 months

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:-“It’s finally Christmas!” Christmas prompts for your otp-:

(Looks like someone’s out of their writing block👀 Merry Christmas everyone!)

By @me-writes-prompts

Baking sugar cookies together :)))

Having snow ball fights and taking cute pictures of each other in the said snow fights!

Knitting Christmas sweater/scarves together!

Making snow flakes out of paper and hanging it as ornaments on their Christmas tree!

^^Decorating Christmas tree together

“You know…I always wanted to know how it feels to kiss under the mistletoe.” “We should do it.” “Wait, really?” “Yeah. Definitely. Let’s do it right now!”

“Can you like tell that I am who I am under the Santa Claus costume?” Their partner shakes their head thoughtfully. “No. Not at all, in fact you look like the Santa Claus himself.” “Hey! Be serious.” <3333

Cuddling in and having hot chocolate together while they watch hallmark Christmas movies :))

^^ “These movies never change do they?” “Yep, never. Just like you….*grins as their partner raises an eyebrow* that was supposed to be a compliment, sweetheart.”

“Why are you acting like the grinch on this fine Christmas morning?” “Me, acting like the grinch? Oh please, you’re wearing the grinch costume not me!”

They both dress up as Santas to surprise the other one. Lmaooooo chaos

Having a Christmas song themed karaoke!

When they hug each other to keep them warm <3

Sneaking a gift into their partner’s coat/pant pockets

“I could really use some help, babe.” They say, trying to hang the little star on top of the Christmas tree. “I believe you, you got this.” The other one says, intently watching them and trying not to laugh as they watch their partner struggle.

^^In the end, they help them out anyway

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justporo · 6 months

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First Snow

Winter has come to Baldur's Gate and finally with it the first snow. You're excited about it - Astarion is rather reluctant...

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Written for the "Snow & Ice" prompt for the BG3 Winter Holiday Challenge! We're kicking of the winter and holiday time with this first fill. Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: none Wordcount: 1k

~~~ Temperatures in Baldur’s Gate had been dropping. There was ice forming now on the edges of the windows of the townhouse you shared with Astarion. And icy gusts of wind made you shiver now everytime you left the house.

Winter had come to the city and was firmly holding Baldur's Gate in its icy fingers. Some smaller side streams of the Chionthar close to town had already frozen over, inviting people to go ice skating. A winter market had opened its stalls somewhere centrally in the lower city. Windows were decorated with candles, ornaments and wreaths made of holly. And the townsfolk had started to wrap themselves in thick coats, wooly scarves and more comfy layers meant to keep them warm. For some the only thing still peeking out from all the layers of cloth, wool and fur were reddened cheeks and noses, coloured by the freezing temperatures.

But there was one thing still missing: snow.

And for the first time in your life were you actually excited for that to happen. Because now you were lucky enough to be in a position to enjoy the nice things that came with the colder weather. And you were so ready to make the best of it - together with your vampire soulmate.

When you had lived on the streets of the city you had always dreaded the coming winter because each year it had been cruel and painstaking to find enough food and shelter. But things were so different now. You had a permanent roof over your head now. And much more important: you had someone, just as permanent.

Someone to cuddle up with when the winter storms would be howling outside. Someone to decorate your home with. Someone to exchange gifts and trade kisses with during cold winter nights. Actually it all sounded pretty enticing.

Being with Astarion had made everything better. You never had been this excited about your future. And just as Astarion was ready to replace hurtful memories with new and pleasant ones, so were you.

So, tonight, you were going out. As you had done lots of times since you'd settled down. Astarion always found a reason to drag you out of the house and spoil you. You were planning to have a nice dinner, maybe stroll across the winter market and watch some of the brave fools thinking they’d be good at ice skating - at least as long as people were still out and about.

But the night was still young. The sun had barely set.

And this had been one of the first things that had made you change your opinion about winter: it allowed for so much more time and opportunities to go out with your vampire. Even if said vampire would have enjoyed that much more during summer time. You made the best out of it.

So when you stepped out of your front door, drawing your scarf and cloak closer around you, you immediately noticed one thing: Thick white flakes were drifting down from the dark night sky, illuminated by the street's mage light lanterns. The snowflakes fell slowly but steadily - as if they were trying to tell you that they wouldn’t be rushed, but would make their way surely. Light gusts of wind dragged around the small white tufts - sometimes taking them for an extra twirl before they landed on the ground.

Your eyes widened and you gasped as you beheld what was very much a fairytale snow flurry. “Snow”, you whispered silently and could barely believe how excited you’d become all of a sudden.

Then Astarion stepped out behind you. And you didn’t need to see the scowl to know it was there: “Ugh, snow.”

Immediately you turned around and gave him a look. You saw how he was fastening his cloak and threw a scarf around his head - he didn’t exactly have need for it but that surely didn’t stop him from another opportunity to make a fashion statement.

“What?”, he replied in annoyance. His lips were pressed together looking at the icy precipitation in displeasure.

“Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”

“My love, you are beautiful, life is beautiful - oh and I am certainly beautiful”, he started dramatically and for the last part sweeped a hand through his hair. “But this? Frozen water falling from the sky? I don’t see why that’s supposed to be beautiful of all things”, he finished with a scrunched up nose. And very pointedly a big snowflake landed on the tip of his nose right at this moment.

The vampire’s nose scrunched up even more when he felt the cold touch his skin and made a disgusted noise while you could barely contain a laugh.

“There, I can save you”, you said and stood on your tiptoes to kiss the tip of his nose and take care of this daunting snowflake.

“Cute”, Astarion replied when you stepped back again with a big genuine smile on his face. And then he quickly pulled you back in for a real kiss.

After the sweet kiss he pulled the cloak closer around you while you lovingly kept looking at him. He’d made that one for you specifically - picked your favourite colours, lined with sheep wool on the inside to keep you extra warm, marked with custom stitching. You had been in absolute awe when he had first showed it to you - he really was more talented than he would make anyone believe.

“Now, my love, at least take care you don’t turn into an icicle - I have standards when it comes to the temperature of my lovers”, the vampire lectured while he made sure you were appropriately wrapped, then pressed a quick little kiss to your forehead.

“Smoking hot?”, you asked with a sly grin. Astarion smirked back at you.

“At least above freezing would be acceptable”, Astarion replied and winked at you.

You stuck your tongue at him while Astarion laughed at you. Then you grabbed his hand and went out into the snow-filled cold winter night.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess

#BG3HolidayFluffle23 #astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 companions #snow

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dem-obscure-imagines · 6 months

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Merry Little Christmas

Druig x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Prompt: @the-sunflower-room “can’t stop thinking about druig and have yourself a merry little christmas- so cozy 😭🙏🏻”

Note: This was actually requested last year, I believe, but I’ve always wanted to write it. I’m sorry it took me so long to get around to it, but I hope you like it! Happy Holidays, everyone <3

Warnings: None! Just cozy Christmas celebrations <3

Word Count: 1.6k words

Reader Is: Gender Neutral!

Druig was never one for holidays. He wasn’t a scrooge, per se, but, as an Eternal, the seasons came and went so quickly. Years were mere blinks to a being who was thousands of years old. However, the look on your face as you put the ornaments on the tree made something stir around his heart, he had to admit.

He was sipping cocoa from a mug with a snowman on it, one from your vast collection. Kingo was in the kitchen, mixing up beverages, which was why he sensed a bit of liquor in the chocolatey beverage. It was still good, obviously, but he definitely blamed that for the rosy hue his cheeks had taken on.

Definitely not the cute little reindeer antlers you were wearing. Definitely not the way your laughter sounded from across the room.

All of the Eternals were there. A rare feat, but with the danger defeated, for now at least, it was cause for celebration, a time to be with family. It was your house you were all celebrating in, a large place tucked away in Northern Michigan, which, at this time of year, was absolutely covered in a thick layer of snow, more and more fluffy flakes coming down as the moments passed.

You spent your time as a writer. One of the most prolific of your time, the reviews said. But then again, you did have a thousand year head start on the rest of them.

Druig would never admit to it, but he had read them. All of them, every single one. He’d borrow them from libraries, read excerpts in bookstores, but Makkari had a collection of them, too. She was your most loyal beta reader. Therefore, when one went missing, she always had a pretty decent suspicion of who the culprit was.

And he wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure most of your love interests shared a certain resemblance with…well, him. He didn’t like the way it stirred around in his chest, the way it made him feel so warm and…hopeful. But then again, he’d never asked you what you felt.

“(Y/N), where are your Christmas records?” Phastos asked, standing over with his husband, Ben, as they dug through a crate of records.

“Oh! I forgot to bring them down, I think. I’ll go grab them. I needed to get the topper anyway.” You stepped down from your stepladder and handed the ornament in your hand to Sprite, who was sitting on the floor under the tree, shaking gifts. Typical.

Druig watched as you left, eyes glued to you. Which was why he didn’t notice when Sersi had joined him, standing right beside him.

He gasped, mug rattled, but not to the point that he spilled any on his sweater. He cursed and looked over at her. “What?”

“You look rather festive, Druig. I thought you didn’t care for holidays.”

“I thought so too…” He muttered into his mug, taking a long sip.

“Right. Well, I think I saw some mistletoe in that box of decorations. I can put it up if you’d like?” She asked, that glimmer in her eyes that she got when she wanted to meddle.

Druig thought on it, as he heard your footsteps coming back down the stairs. He met her eyes and that was all that was needed. She nodded and set across the room, plucking it out of the box, along with a length of fishing line.

“I found it! The Muppets and John Denver!” You said excitedly, presenting another crate of records, this one all Christmas. “And some other stuff.”

“May I?” Phastos asked.

“Yeah, of course.” You handed them over and walked back over to the tub of ornaments, searching for a very special one. It was a large mug of cocoa with eleven marshmallows in it, each one etched with the name of an Eternal. You smiled softly and tucked it into the branches of your artificial tree, curling the fake pine to support its weight.

“Where did you find one with so many slots?” Druig found himself asking as he crossed the room to stand behind you.

“Had it custom made.” You replied, turning to face him.

“It’s beautiful, (Y/N).” Ajak complimented warmly from her seat by the fire.

“Thanks. Thought we needed something like that.”

“What are these?” Sprite asked, digging through the other box and pulling out a stocking with Thena’s name embroidered on it.

“Stockings.”

“You had those made, too?” Ajak asked, getting up to see for herself.

“Well, I did them. The embroidery, at least.” You admitted with a shrug, motioning to the hooks under the mantle. “We can put them up, if you want.”

Makkari nodded and grabbed the stockings, putting them all in one clean row in a blur of red and green. She stood next to Druig, elbowing him and tilting her head towards his stocking, which she’d put on the end.

Right next to yours.

He nearly choked on his cocoa. So did everyone know, then? Sersi, Makkari, who else? Kingo, no doubt.

“You alright there, Druig? Looking flushed.” Ikaris jabbed, that wicked gleam in his eyes.

Alright, then, yeah, it was everyone. Everyone but you, it seemed.

It was as if a stormcloud manifested above his head. He shook his head and stalked off towards the kitchen. He didn’t know much, but he did know a cookie would make him feel better. Snacks always seemed to. And there was no shortage of them, especially now, when you and Gilgamesh had baked nearly twelve dozen batches of them. Gingerbread, snickerdoodle, sugar cookies shaped like trees, chocolate chip, oatmeal no-bakes.

He reached for a sprinkle-covered tree and bit off the tip of it, the frosting sweet. The oven started beeping and you rushed in, arming yourself with an oven mitt before reaching in for what he assumed must be one of the last trays. Oatmeal raisin, it looked like.

“Do you need any help?” He asked, staring as you straightened up and brushed the hair out of your face.

“Oh! Thank you, Druig. I’m all set, though. Are they good?”

“Are what—” He looked down at the half-eaten tree in his hand. “Oh, yeah. They’re great.”

“Awesome.” You grinned. “New frosting recipe.”

“Well it’s perfect, whatever it is.” He leaned against the counter, that boyish smirk on his face. He wasn’t sure what came over him, then, but he had to get it out. “It’s great, by the way. That new book of yours.”

“You read it?”

“I read all of your books.” He confessed. “I think this one’s your best.”

Your heart raced as you met his eyes. Surely he knew, right? He had to. That you’d been writing about him for centuries. When he’d left all those years ago, hundreds of years ago, he’d taken a piece of your heart with him, a piece you’d only found in fiction, it seemed.

“Thank you. It…it means a lot to hear you say that.”

“Can’t wait for your next one.” He winked, plucking up a second cookie and leaving the kitchen before his tongue got him in any more trouble than it already had.

***

Later in the night, when almost everyone had gone to sleep, you were up, wrapping presents in front of the fireplace, folding the paper neatly, complete with name tags and perfect little bows.

You’d switched records. It was an older one, the Rat Pack.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas…Let your heart be light…

The words were smooth, glided right out of the speaker. Snow was still coming down in droves. It was good you had nowhere to go, otherwise you’d be snowed in. Well, if your family didn’t have every superpower known to man, you would be anyway. You were glad they were there.

You were glad they were home.

“Can’t sleep?” Druig’s voice startled you from your reverie and you turned around, grateful his present was already wrapped and under the tree.

“Not until I get these wrapped.” You told him.

“Christ, you really do go all out, don’t you?” He chuckled, crossing the room and sitting on the floor beside you, yet another cookie in his hand.

“I think I’d lose my mind if I didn’t. Keeps me…in synch. The routine of a year, you know?”

“Mmm.” He hummed, nodding, face alight in the warm oranges of the flames. “I didn’t see it that way until…recently.”

“Until right now?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckled, watching as you carefully wrapped the last one, taping every edge perfectly and putting a tag on top, printing Sprite’s name with a pen. “What’d you get her?”

“You’ll have to find out tomorrow morning.” You told him, shifting to slide it under the tree with the others. “What did you get her?”

“It’s a surprise.” He grinned as you settled in next to him.

“Is it a surprise to you, too?”

He gasped, offended. “I got presents for everyone!”

“I believe you.”

“Sure you do.” He shook his head, laughing softly. “Say, ehm, (Y/N), I’ve been wondering…”

“Mistletoe!” You gasped, staring straight up at the ceiling where, sure enough, a string of mistletoe hung, glittering in the low light. “Who put that up?”

“Well I’ll be…” He breathed, staring up at it, too, heart racing faster than it had in any battle. “What…do you suppose we do about that?”

“I have a few ideas.” You slowly brought your gaze down, meeting his eyes.

He may have been the telepath, but you could tell the only thing on his mind was you as he leaned in, thick eyelashes fluttering shut as his lips met yours, pink and plush and warm. You kissed back, not leaving a single doubt in his mind that you wanted this, wanted him. Your hand rose to his flushed cheek, holding him close as his arm wound around your waist.

The grandfather clock struck midnight, and he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours, noses flush, eyes on you, glimmering with a million words unspoken. He did have a few, though. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

“Merry Christmas, Druig.”

#druig #druig x reader #druig imagine #marvel #barry keoghan #christmas #fluff #eternals #eternals imagine #marvel imagine

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cranberrv · 6 months

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hey babe! can i get winter nights w dallas and decorating the christmas tree (at night duh!) 💞

big hands hold your waist to balance you on the step-stool as you put an ornament high up on the tree. the tree was covered in brightly coloured lights and ornaments, tacky, the way it always was in the curtis house. the fireplace and lamp was the only protection from the darkness outside. it was snowing, soft flakes of ice coating the front yard. as you place the ornament on the tree, you fumble on the stool ever so slightly, and the hands tighten on your waist to steady you.

“careful, sweetie,” dallas’s voice murmurs, voice hushed as to not wake up the rest of the gang, who were all sleeping over.

“i wouldn’t even have to be doing this if you’d be kind enough to do it for me,” you huff, and that earns you a quick squeeze on your waist, his way of telling you to be quiet.

dallas was like the grinch - he didn’t like christmas. he was just a pessimist, looked at all the negatives of the holidays, like buying expensive gifts for everyone and writing meaningful messages on cards. he thought it was stupid. so it was no surprise when he refused to help you decorate the christmas tree as a surprise for the boys. the most he’d help would be making sure you don’t hurt yourself or make the tree look bad.

he rolls his eyes. “you know i’m not gonna do that.”

“then just go to sleep, dal,” you’ve said this to him many times tonight, but he won’t budge. “i don’t see why you’re out here still if you’re hating every second of this.”

“not hating it,” he disagrees. “i’m hangin’ out with you.”

his words cause your mouth to form a slight smile, you love when he says stuff like that. he barely ever compliments you or expresses that he does still like you, so those small words pledge a greater meaning for you.

he gives you a small kiss on your neck, and passes you another ornament to hang up. in silence, you continue to silently decorate the tree in the darkness, the air between you filled with a gentle warmth. dallas always says the right things to make you melt, unlike the snow still falling gently outside.

—

( a/n : slacking a bit on the writing so i apologize that it’s not very well-written!! hope you enjoy anywaysss ily )

#🎀 belle’s christmas event #dallas #the outsiders #dallas winston #dally winston #dallas winston fluff #dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston x reader #dally winston fluff

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scarletevening · 5 months

Note

👋hii

For the Christmas request:

Satoru

Prompt: hey look it's snowing

My idea??: walking through the Christmas market with gojo backhugging reader *lip bite emoji*

With a cold, introverted reader pls!

Thanku

ⓑⓔⓐⓤⓣⓨ [ 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞 ]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓; ❞ Look! Look! it's snowing!"

cw: none, fluff, mutual pining, cold, introverted, gn! reader.

Even with mitten on your hands, the cold air was not any kinder to your fingertips.

The two of you walked together, hands stuffed in your pockets, worshiping the shiny craftsman ship of Christmas ornaments, cards, wrapping, trinkets, gifts, all littered around you like stars.

Of course, climate isn't something too avoidable, so as you and your company walked, Gojo having more of a strut, the cold air picked up, and the sun hid behind the clouds.

"You know what this means!"

His voice rang in your ear as a joyful bell, pulling the corners of your lips into a subtle smile.

"Yes, Gojo, yes I-"

"Look! Look! It's snowing!!"

And it indeed was. Soft, plush, minuscule flakes descending from the dreary sky. Habitually, maybe instinctually, both you raised your hands reached to grasp the snowflakes, knowing they would melt with contact. It was slow, gentle flakes touching and dissolving at every object around you.

His hair was already white, but it glittered like a diamond as each snowflake took hold, the sprinkled rays of sunlight reflecting off of each droplet. His eyes peaking under his cover as he looks toward you, the glimmering ornaments of celebration framing his face like a picture, glowing like the moon among the night.

He was undeniably gorgeous, and you knew that the moment you look into his cerulean eyes you couldn't keep a straight face. So you didn't, you kept your eyes away, blamed the blush on your cheeks on cold air rather than your imagination.

He laughed beside you, collecting the snow in his palms with a grin. Of course, he was him, and he naturally began to try to throw it at you. You gasped, glaring at him with a smile pulling at the corner of your lips, your hand picking up what little snow there was on the floor of Tokyo streets to throw back at him.

You snarl at him as he grins and laughs, dramatically tripping over his feet,

"You merciless monster!"

He cries, bystanders staring at him in confusion and disdain. The eyes intimidate you, he knows, the way you move three steps ahead to seem as though you don't associate with him, reaching the end of the pop-up market.

Even with your feeble, playful attempt at getting him off your tail, you failed.

A man who could never touch, never feel the contact of another casually, without thought, let his barrier go. Wrapped around you, slipping between your arms and tugging around your waist lazily, his rouge-tinted lips brushing your ear,

"You're just so mean."

You froze, probably from being flustered, but you'd like to blame the snow. But you didn't pull away, letting your eyes wander to the snow-covered bricks of the sidewalk. Your breath mingled with his, hot air turning white in the cold air. The end of the market, where the two of you stood, trapped in his arms as he waited for your reply.

To him, it didn't matter what you said, if you protested without movement, if your grumbled and mumbled. All he had to acknowledge was that he held you as snow fell around your bodies, his warmth pressing into your back. He sighed into your scarf once more,

"I know you never mean it when your mean."

You smile, unable to cold the smile that broke past your face as you glanced towards him,

"Don't be so sure, Satoru."

⋆⁺₊❅.···········································································································.❅₊⁺⋆

didn't know how to end it again i need to learn to problem solve. anyways thank you sm for the rq and sorry for taking so long!!!

directory

❅ 🅂🄽🄾🅆 & 🅂🄽🅄🄶🄶🄻🄴🅂 ❅

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puppy-steve · 5 months

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the night before christmas

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

emma gets to meet a very special someone

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

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

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

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

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

But someone is about to find out ahead of schedule.

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

—

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

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

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

“Santa?”

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

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

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

“Are you really Santa?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You remembered!”

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

Emma nods. “Uh-huh!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#cj talks #cj writes #🐣#steddie dads #steddie ficlet #steddie fic

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kinq-sleazee · 5 months

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The Detriment of Our Origin

Sukuna X Black Reader

MDNI (18+) | slight angst, slight religious undertones, implied obsession, sukuna has a big dick, sukuna covers reader’s mouth , idk what this is

Part 1

Forever was never the goal.

Two lost souls met on the outskirts of sanity. Desperate for something to hold on to. Something to ground them.

You just wanted to feel.

Anything.

Pain was fine because it kept you in the present. Stopped you from floating into the cold vast darkness of your own mind— that was a dangerous place to be alone.

He could give you pain.

He was pain.

He was born to take , break and consume.

Ryomen took, broke, and consumed you.

Your soul flaked off bit by bit with the subtlest of caresses.

Actions that would’ve caused butterflies and coy smiles from any other man manifested in blazing desire and yearning that left you wrung out in the spaces between life and death.

The supple velvet of his plush lips proceeded the keen edge of the teeth that sunk into your flesh.

Razor-like nails carved patterns into your body, ornamenting you with his marks for all to see.

Sukuna never gave you anything. Why should he ? He is a god. Your god. He took what he wanted. He took your pleasure. He stole your desire.

Each orgasms was forcefully extracted by the unmerciful roll of his hips against your core. Those punctuated thrusts that burrowed impossibly deep—so deep that your quaked and spasmed.

His hands were everywhere. On your breasts. In your hair. Over your mouth. Curled into the sheets. He was everywhere. He is everything.

Sukuna would lean back to watch where the two of you connected, loving the evidence of your arousal coating his cock like snow in a winter field. It made him want to fuck into you harder. Just to hear the carnal squelch of your soaked cunt. Poor hole weakly submitting to an intrusion that was much too big and much too rough.

His strokes were sinister.

Each thrust angled to attack that gummy spot that drew choked sobs and hoarse cries from your throat.

He loved you like this. An angel crying for the devil

#was in a mood #the inside of my mind is a mixture of darkness and unicorns #jjk angst #jjk smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x black reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna thirst #sukuna #sukuna angst #jjk x black reader #sukuna smut

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fic-over-cannon · 5 months

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Holiday Scenes: The Christmas Market

jason todd x gn!reader

summary: a date at the Christmas market with jason

rated general | wc: 0.6k

The Christmas Market in Gotham isn’t very big, organizers worried about it becoming a tempting target for the city’s villains. Since you’re going with Jason, you’re not worried about that all. No, what you’re worried about is Jason eating himself sick at all the food stands. Every corner you turn there’s a new stall with tempting smells and something new to try. Jason will turn, give you a mischievous look and ask if you want to split whatever new thing is on the menu. Already you’ve shared German bratwurst piled high with translucent onions, cheese and potato pierogi fried off in bacon grease and served with a dollop of sour cream, a large soft pretzel with mustard on the side, and a baked potato loaded with all the fixings. You haven’t even gotten to dessert yet and already you have to jokingly beg for a time out to recover.

So with fragrant glasses of warm gluhwein wrapped in your hands you drag him over to the shops. Jason will stand back to watch you get excited over various finds, enjoying the flush the wine brings to your cold cheeks and the excitement in your eyes when you discover something new at the next table. Together you manage to finish up the last of your Christmas shopping with a hand blended batch of smoky earl grey tea for Alfred. You get so engrossed in a stall selling hand-knit Aran sweaters that you only mumble your acknowledgment when Jason tells you he’ll be back in a second, not even fully registering his words. Jason returns with cups of hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream and sporting sticks of cinnamon to stir them with. Gently pulls the shopping out of your hands and replaces it with a warm cup. The heat of the drink makes your nose run a little in the cold, burning your throat in the best way. It starts snowing a little, drifts of flakes gently coming down, making the steam from the hot chocolate more visible. By the time you finish your drinks, you’ve found another stall selling hand made ornaments decorated with goldwork embroidery. Excited, you get Jason to help you choose one to mark your first Christmas together. The two of you settle on a robin in a Santa hat, promise to put it up as soon as you get home.

Finally you allow Jason to drag you back to the food stalls. He’s found one selling German Christmas cookies and he’s almost giddy to try them. Vanillekipferl, lebkuchen, pfeffernusse, and nussecken disappear quickly, leaving behind only sticky fingertips and smiles. He vows to learn how to make them all so that next year the two of you can eat your favourites all season long. The crepe stand is good, but you have to sheepishly tell Jason that you like his better. The compliment gets him glowing, and for the next two weeks he won’t stop mentioning to his brothers that you think his are the best you’ve ever had. You buy some gingerbread men to go, holiday treats for the next few days.

The two of you are warm and impossibly full, ears and noses a little red from the cold. The shopping’s been done (and a few small things may have slipped into your bag while Jason wasn’t looking, a surprise for him to open later) and now you’re ready to go home. Under the soft festive lights, the snow is making everything more charming, frosting the tips of Jason’s eyelashes and catching in your hair. Unable to resist the sight of him like this, you press a quick kiss to his lips tasting the sugar and spices you find there. Hand in hand and resting your head on his shoulder, the two of you leave the Christmas Market, bright cheeked and content.

#you cannot convince me that jason wouldn’t love Christmas markets #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fic #red hood x you #red hood x reader #sunnie writes 🌻#snack fic

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pherelesytsia · 1 year

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Coming Home before Christmas

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/wife/Reader

Summary: Thomas returns home and is surprised by his children worrying the Grinch will steal the sweets.

Warning: just pure Christmas fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

a/n: Requests are open!!!

Thomas Shelby Masterlist

Christmas carols, old and heard for the hundredth time, playing on a continuous loop, filled every corner and flooded the deserted rooms of the house at the end of the world, oozing with joy and the purest form of delight a heart could feel.

Blue eyes, the beauty of a summer's sky, sparkled. Charlie and his sister, dressed in jumpers with laughing reindeers and grinning snowmen sledging down the hills, tried to count the variously sized ornaments with glittering elements adorning the tree. Light wooden figures were lurking between the ornaments in reddish hues. Fairy lights twinkled like stars and rising flames gnawed at the logs.

Feet dangled from the sofa covered by dozens of pillows and fluffy blankets, hidden in a box in the attic during the warm months. The children stared impatiently at the screen, but no complaint crossed their lips. The door slammed into the lock, and a bunch of keys jiggled. Charlie, threw the blankets aside and jumped followed by his sister off the sofa, ran past the kitchen island and Y/N looked after them as she poured the warm, not boiling liquid into the almost identical cups with rows of red flakes, dots and dancing snowman.

Joyful voices greeted the returned father. The heavy, dark leather bag fell to the ground. Thomas laughed, felt arms wrapping around his leg and he lifted the young girl from the ground, pressed her tight to his chest and ruffled the boy's hair. Snow was thawing and gossamer waterfalls danced over his face. His eyes, once dull, sparkled, forgot the past, the cruel word beyond the thick locked wooden door, and noticed the knitted jumpers.

"We have been waiting. Come. Everything's set! We have picked out a movie. And if we are not nice, the Grinch will steal our cookies." the children sang out almost in sync as if they had been memorising the sentences on the sofa for several hours as if it was a poem.

The Shelby chuckled and settled his daughter down next to Charlie. The burden of everyday life disappeared. His right hand slipped into his coat pocket and, with the push of a button, he turned the sound of his smartphone off.

"I'm here, Mister Grinch will not steal your cookies. Where is mom?" Thomas inquired.

The dark-haired man leaned to the side, hoping to catch sight of his wife leaning against the door, but the soft hum of a melody crossing her lips accompanied by the sound of clinking spoons let him know she was in the kitchen.

Hands reached for him, clutching his firmly and the children pulled the father still dressed in the coat into the depths of the house, past reindeers with reddish scarves and saluting nutcrackers. They ignored his complaints, wishing to finally find themselves on the sofa and turn on the fairy tale.

Entering the living room, the scent of Christmas, oranges, apples, and chocolate greeted him. His eyes slid across the richly decorated room. The reindeer pulling the swan carriage next to the nutcrackers in uniforms saluted and protected the snowmen family on the window seat, and Thomas wondered how he could have disliked Christmas, almost loathe, the merry time. The thick, indestructible layer of ice protecting his heart like a shield of silver and steel melted away. Once he would have called the reddish pyjamas with snowmen and nutcrackers childish and idiotic, something a grown woman should not wear, but it looked better on his wife than an evening gown. Her hair falling in gentle waves framed her features, touched by the soft light. The children released his hands and told him to follow swiftly, but the father didn't listen as they ran back to the sofa.

Y/N exhaled, turned, and faced her husband. He remembers, Y/N thought to herself, glancing at the clock and seeing that it was still before seven, knowing he had been thinking of them, trying to keep the promise he had made to at least try to arrive earlier to spend time with his family.

Grinning, Thomas cast his gaze over his shoulder and glanced after the chatting children. He took off the coat and threw it onto the bar stool. Thomas flashed his wife a smile, stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her waist, placed his hands on the small of her back and breathed a feather-light kiss on her lips.

"I missed you," Thomas whispered, barely audible, but Y/N heard the words loud and clear.

"I missed you too. How was your day? Are you tired? We waited but we can watch the movie tomorrow. You are probably exhausted. Arthur called and told me you might arrive later, that your day was rough." Y/N spoke.

Thomas chuckled, lowered his gaze to the cups with whipped cream, colourful sprinkles and chocolate flecks.

"I'm not tired. You don't have to worry about me. I am fine. Nothing a cup of coffee can't fix and we should join the children if we want cookies." Thomas answered.

Y/N didn't have to look at the table, heard the giggling children tampering with the round white and silver plates, searching for the most delicious biscuits and devouring them as if they hadn't eaten in days.

"You should have seen them in the afternoon when they came from school and kindergarten. You might have noticed, but the gingerbread house is gone. I was in the shower, maybe ten minutes gone, and when I returned, the house was gone." Y/N breathed.

Astonished, Thomas turned and noticed that instead of the gingerbread house was a reindeer on the mantlepiece.

"I noticed the sweets were missing." Thomas laughed.

"The gingerbread wasn't even soft. It was hard as a rock. But they didn't mind. They drank at least a litre of milk to soften it. And now they are planning to build a new house and I am surprised that their stomach doesn't ache." reported Y/N.

She leaned her head on his chest. His fingers sank into her hair, brushed through the light waves, and breathed lovely words into her ear. The children switched off the lamp and the only source of light was the dimly glowing Christmas tree, and Charlie called out to the parents, gazing into each other's eyes like love-struck lovers.

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mimis-memes · 2 years

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🍎 ｡:*• ─ CHRISTMAS PICK-UP LINES SENTENCE STARTERS. › ( a compilation of various christmas/holiday-themed pick-up lines taken from various sources, for muses who are feeling flirty this holiday season ! feel free to adjust them to better fit your muses. note: numbers 21 to 40 can be nsfɯ, so please read at your own risk ! )

nice & funny : 1. ❝ There’s snow one like you ! ❞ 2. ❝ When we met, it was love at frost sight ! ❞ 3. ❝ I must be a snowflake because I’ve fallen for you. ❞ 4. ❝ Hi, Santa said you wished for me. Good choice ! ❞ 5. ❝ Are you Christmas ? Because I want to merry you. ❞ 6. ❝ There's snow place like your arms this Christmas ! ❞ 7. ❝ Do you live in an igloo ? Because you're pretty cool ! ❞ 8. ❝ I didn’t think I was a snowman, but you just made me melt. ❞ 9. ❝ If I was the Grinch, I wouldn’t steal Christmas. I’d steal you. ❞ 10. ❝ I’ll be home for Christmas — and I want you to come with me. ❞ 11. ❝ You make me more excited than gifts under a Christmas tree ! ❞ 12. ❝ I don’t need Christmas lights, you’re already shining so bright ! ❞ 13. ❝ The Grinch may have stolen Christmas, but you stole my heart. ❞ 14. ❝ Let’s drink some hot tea in the snow. After all, ‘Teas the Season ! ❞ 15. ❝ I don’t have a Christmas list, because you’re already the best gift. ❞ 16. ❝ It’s the season of giving, so you should give me your phone number. ❞ 17. ❝ Aren’t you supposed to be on top of that tree ? Because you’re a star ! ❞ 18. ❝ Let me take you on a first date in the snow. I promise I’m not going to flake ! ❞ 19. ❝ Can I take a picture of you so I can show Santa what I want for Christmas ? ❞ 20. ❝ If you were a tree, you’d be an evergreen, because I bet you look this good all year round. ❞ naughty & sexy : 21. ❝ Let’s make this a not-so-silent night. ❞ 22. ❝ Let me help you out of that ugly sweater... ❞ 23. ❝ I want to fill you up with my... holiday spirit. ❞ 24. ❝ How about I shimmy down your chimney tonight ? ❞ 25. ❝ The only package I want this Christmas is yours. ❞ 26. ❝ We don’t need a sleigh, you can ride me instead. ❞ 27. ❝ Santa’s lap isn’t the only place wishes come true. ❞ 28. ❝ Let’s both be naughty and save Santa the trip tonight. ❞ 29. ❝ Is your name Winter ? Because you’ll be coming soon. ❞ 30. ❝ Let’s pretend to be presents and get laid under the tree. ❞ 31. ❝ Your stocking isn’t the only thing I’ll be filling up tonight. ❞ 32. ❝ Are you ornaments ? Because I want you all over my tree. ❞ 33. ❝ You're the first gift I want to unwrap on Christmas morning. ❞ 34. ❝ Call me your Christmas tree, because you’re turning me on. ❞ 35. ❝ Is that a candy cane in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me ? ❞ 36. ❝ I was going to warm my hands by the fireplace, but you’re much hotter ! ❞ 37. ❝ Do you like the song “Jingle Bells” ? Because we could go all the way... ❞ 38. ❝ Are you looking for a tree topper ? Because I’ve been told I’m a star on top. ❞ 39. ❝ I just got some mistletoe. How about we go back to my place and try it out ? ❞ 40. ❝ I’m not Santa, but do you want to sit on my lap and tell me what you want this Christmas ? ❞

Sources: [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

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spatialwave · 5 months

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🎄 christmas with jordan li & marie moreau 🎄

jordan would make up an excuse to stay on campus during the holidays, knowing that marie wouldn’t have anywhere to go. it would undoubtedly infuriate their parents — but it would be worth it.

the two of them would cuddle up together each night as snow slowly falls and covers the campus in fluffy, white flakes. christmas movies playing on repeat in the background, like home alone & elf.

they’d make hot cocoa every night with handfuls of mini marshmallows. sick on too much sugar.

jordan would buy a small christmas tree to set up and decorate in their dorm. marie would find ornament-making kits so they could make the tree look exactly like they want it to.

marie would hang annabelle’s picture on the tree. a reminder of who she is fighting for.

on christmas morning jordan would surprise marie with one too many gifts, healing her inner youth that missed out on ‘normal’ christmases during her time at red river.

they’d make trips into the busy centre of the city, kissing under the bright lights of the rockefeller tree. skating in the rink and laughing until their stomachs hurt when the two of them stumble and fall together.

they’d venture through the hustle and bustle of new york, grabbing slices of pizza and window shopping at places they’d never be able to afford unless they were paid handsomely by being in the seven.

marie would know from then on that she’d never want to spend christmas with anyone else but jordan, her love.

#limoreau #gen v #jordan li #marie moreau #mariejordan #jordan li x marie moreau #wordsbyspatial

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 6 months

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for @glitterypirateduck December Challenge - COD HOLIDAY 2023

John Price x fem!OC

word count: 1.9K

Inspired by The Carpenters song of the same title

18+ Minors DNI (smut, P in V sex, cowgirl, fingering, hand jobs, dirty talk, and just the tiniest smattering of praise kink, creampie, unprotected sex)

A/N: this fic pulled me out of a writing slump (also thanks to a friend for cheering me up and listening to me ramble about ship stuff) so this is about as self indulgent and sickly sweet as it gets with me, sorry for giving anyone cavities!

smut under the cut:

It was Christmas Eve and London twinkled with light as flakes began to fall in the darkened sky. Rory was already set for a quiet Christmas this year, with John on a mission she’d be left to get through the holiday alone. She hadn’t even bothered to set up the tree this year, there wasn’t much point when it was just her.

The clicking of her heels along the pavement became quieter as the snow started to settle, the wind blowing wilder, a winter storm about to hit – she’d need to get inside soon. Thoughts of snuggling up on the couch with a hot toddy and It’s A Wonderful Life filled her head. Climbing the steps to her townhouse, her fingers started to burn with the freezing chill in the air. Her keys jingled in the lock like sleigh bells, and as the door creaked open she was surprised to find John there to help pull the coat from her shoulders.

Her face lit up instantly at the sight of him, her eyes shining like starlight, her nose and cheeks pink and prickled by the frosty bite outside. “John? I thought we weren’t getting Christmas together this year?”

“And leave you all on your own?” His brows raised, creasing his forehead, the lines around his eyes crinkling. “I’d find some way of getting to see you, darlin’, you know that.”

She stepped into his warm embrace, pressing her shockingly cold hand to his cheek, but the soldier didn’t shiver, even as she stroked her thumb through his beard. His arms wrapping around her waist sent comforting tingles throughout her. “Father Christmas came early for me then, eh?”

He hummed, “That he did, love.” Giving her a wink, he leaned down and kissed her wind bitten lips. “Bloody hell, your lips are cold,” he mumbled as he continued to press his mouth against her. “Best get you warm.”

His strong arms squeezed her tighter, pressing her chest against him until she was bathed in the musk of his cologne and the rich smoky scent that clung to him from his cigars. Running her hands over his broad shoulders, she gripped at the thick knit of his sweater. “And how exactly are we going to go about doing that?” She asked with the cock of her brow.

“Why don’t you slip into something a little more comfortable,” he purred, his accent thick and gravelly, “and I’ll pour us the drinks.”

“Perfect idea.” She kissed him softly once more and then ran her thumb over his lower lip.

Parting to slip off her shoes, suddenly shrinking in stature as her heels clunked against the hardwood floor, she walked further into the hall to head upstairs and change out of her work clothing. Passing the entrance to the living room, she noticed the tree in the middle of the room dressed in lights and ornaments. Rory turned to look over her shoulder at John, her lips curled into a grin. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” he said with a shrug, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Figured I should set the mood.”

“Did you get the good Scotch while you were at it too?”

“‘Course,” he smirked.

The smile spread on her face and she started to beam. “You really are the best present I could ask for.”

He bounced on his heels with a little puff of his chest and a thrust of his hips, his cheeks starting to glow pink with blush. “Go on now, don't keep me waiting.”

…

Coming downstairs, she found John adjusting the volume on the stereo and two glasses of whiskey poured for them, waiting. A soft haze of smoke from his cigar gave an almost dreamy appearance to the room only added to by the soft white lights of the tree.

Looking up from the media cabinet, the cigar hanging from his mouth glowing brighter as his eyes widened at the sight of her wearing one of his cable knit sweaters and nothing else, his throat bobbed. Swallowed heavily, John’s interest was piqued, despite the fact that she was practically swimming in the oversized top.

Rory drew closer to him, and slipped her hand around one of the glasses. Taking a sip of the whiskey, the warmth spread throughout her and she licked her lips as she met his gaze, his eyes focused entirely on her mouth. “I hope you know I haven’t wrapped your gift yet. Wasn’t expecting you home.”

“Quite alright, love. There’s something else I’d rather unwrap first anyway.”

She chuckled quietly, fluttering her eyelashes at him as she took another sip of her drink. “Now, if I recall correctly you did say you were going to warm me up, didn’t you?”

“That I did.”

She placed her drink down and grabbed the bottom of his sweater, dragging him towards her. His arms snaked around her and he grabbed at her arse, fingers squeezing into the flesh of it as he leaned down to kiss her. Left to walk on tiptoes to keep their mouths from parting, Rory smiled against his lips, all too happy to have him back in her arms. Directing him towards the couch, she shoved him down into the overstuffed cushions and climbed up into his lap as if he were Santa and she was about to whisper all the gifts she wanted in his ear.

His hands slid up her thighs, grabbing at her hips from under the sweater, quick to find nothing there below it – just as he had suspected. Squeezing at her soft, supple flesh, a low rumbling groan came from deep in his chest.

“You missed me, my darling?” Rory asked, nuzzling her face in against the crook of his neck, placing tender kisses to it as she started to grind her hips against him.

“You haven’t the faintest, love.” Pressing his nose into her hair, breathing in the scent of her, John’s eyes fluttered shut as she found just that right spot below his jaw to kiss. Pulling the cigar from his mouth, he rested it on the ashtray beside the couch, and leaned his head back. Yet more deep, rasping groans fell from him before his hand curled around her chin to bring her mouth back to his, kissing her deeply.

Her hands moved to the button and fly of his jeans, deftly handling them before slipping her hand in past his boxers. Wrapping her fingers around his already hard cock, she stared into his steely blue eyes and started to stroke his length up and down. His shaft throbbed in her grip and his mouth fell open, another moan slipping past his defenses. “Jesus.”

“Well that’s hardly going to put you in the good books,” she teased before kissing him again.

“I’ll take the lump of coal if I’ve got you.”

She combed her fingers through his hair, her focus set entirely on him. “Maybe if you squeeze it as hard as you are my arse you’ll get a diamond out of it.”

John’s eyes went wide as he huffed out a laugh. “Well then maybe I should show another part of you some attention, eh?”

Their mouths met in hungry kisses, his tongue sliding in past her lips, and all she could taste was whiskey and smoke. Kissing him harder as she continued to stroke him, John started to thrust his hips up towards her hand, fucking into her fist as one of his hands slipped between her thighs, his fingers delving into her folds. Wet and warm, she was already dripping with arousal, and the friction of his jeans against her mound was only making her drenched. Once his fingers found the bud of nerves at the apex of her thighs, rubbing against it and rutting into her hand with the same hunger, they both started to moan.

“Need you right now, Rory,” he mumbled, rasping as he started to lose himself.

He didn’t need to ask twice, she wanted it too. Shifting in his lap and lowering herself down on the girth of his cock, she gasped as he stretched her. Slowly settling as he filled her completely, barely able to fit him all inside of her.

“Christ,” John moaned as her tight walls fluttered around him.

“Well now you’re definitely not getting anything from Father Christmas.”

Laughing, Price took her face in his hands pulling her in for another passionate kiss, sucking on her lower lip until her mouth was red and plump, only pulling away for air. “This perfect little cunt is all I need,” he purred. “You spoil me enough.”

“I do love to spoil you,” she whispered against his mouth as she leaned in for another kiss. Her hips grinding against him, rotating, driving him in deeper. Her thighs lifting and falling, bouncing on his cock. Her arms draped over his shoulders and the back of the couch as she pressed herself tight against him, her forehead resting against his. The wet sounds of her cunt filling the room, loud enough to drown out the crackling of the fire.

He held her tight against him, bucking up into her with some force, their breath panting in equal measure as they picked up the pace, being driven by that same passion for each other they always felt.

Rory mewled, low and slow, whimpering out his name over and over again as her hands clung to his chest, feeling the muscles shifting beneath her touch.

“That’s it, darling. Come on, Rory. Come for me.”

Biting down on her lip, she started to fuck him harder. Faster. Desperation taking over as sweat started to form on her brow and she chased her high. His big hands traveled up her body under the sweater, cupping her breasts and squeezing them, pinching her nipples and making them stiff, that final push to cause her muscles to all start tightening. Her thighs shook as her velvet walls clamped down around him and she was brought to the very edge before having her whole body rocked by her orgasm.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” Price cooed as his hands wrapped around her once more and stroked the soft skin of her back.

He continued to thrust into her, a slow rolling of his hips to meet her own, his rumbling timbre whispering words of praise into her neck as she rested against him and he pressed kisses to her smooth skin.

Her arousal coated the inside of her thighs now and dripped down the length of his cock, allowing him to easily slide in and out of her, his thrusts lazy and slow like good morning sex, keeping her pinned to him, in no race to seek out his release. Rory moaned as he continued to stretch open her sensitive cunt. The dark, wiry pubic hair surrounding the base of his cock rubbing up against her clit as he pushed himself into her only added to her pleasure.

The steady in and out, tender and loving, was the perfect way to bring in Christmas. Their mouths meeting in kisses as if there was mistletoe hung above them. Lovers lost in abandon. There was no denying Rory was warm now, their lovemaking easily heating up the entire house.

Reaching his climax, John’s thrusts slowed down to a crawl, his hands wrapped up in her hair as he looked up at her with a warm smile on his face. “Merry Christmas, darlin’.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

#codholiday2023 #cod fanfic #captain price #john price #john price x oc #oc: rory sinclair #cod smut #skelly writes #ship: you are the sword to my shield

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