#Flopping in a Winter Wonderland | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beloveds-embrace · 1 month ago

Note

PLEASE,….,, im begging you give me a break from the duchy au angst PLEASE GIVE ME SOME FLUFF

We all need a break 🙂‍↕️ here you go, anon! 💗

Dukedom au masterlist (not yet fully updated)

The first snow of the season finally fell and blanketed the grounds of Price manor, transforming the estate into a true winter wonderland. You stood by the frosted window in the sitting room, wrapped in a warm shawl, watching the flurry outside with a soft smile. The warmth of the fire behind you offered a comforting contrast to the icy world beyond the glass panes, the crackle of burning wood a soothing ambience that eased the mind.

It was a rare moment of stillness in the manor, with no pressing duties or social engagements demanding your attention. Your fingers traced absent patterns on the windowpane, thoughts wandering here and there until the sound of a throat clearing drew your attention.

Johnny stood in the doorway, a handsome grin tugging at his lips. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, and a hint of snow dusted his dark hair. He stepped towards you, grin softening into something fond. “Lass, ye look far too peaceful. Fancy a bit of fun in the snow?”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Fun in the snow? Johnny, I hardly think-”

Before you could finish, Kyle appeared beside him, a resigned but equally amused expression on his face. “He’s already dragged the stablehands into a snowball fight. You’d best join, my lady, before he wreaks havoc on the entire household.”

Your laughter bubbled out before you could stop it. Kyle had snow all over his shoulders. “And you? Did he rope you into this as well, Kyle?”

Kyle’s lips twitched, his tone as dry as ever. “I’m merely here to ensure no one ends up with frostbite. Or worse, Johnny getting pelted by a snowball with rocks in it again.”

“That happened one time!”

It was then that Simon strolled in, adjusting his coat. He cast a critical look at Johnny, and then shook his head. “You’re dragging the Duchess outside in this cold? She’ll catch her death.”

“Not if she bundles up properly,” Johnny huffed, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the coat rack. “C’mon, love, live a little!”

Your protests were half-hearted as he helped you into your newest winter cloak, his enthusiasm infectious. Kyle and Simon waited, and even helped bundle you up further until the warmth on your cheeks were more from kisses than being fully covered.

Within moments, you were outside, your boots crunching against the fresh snow. The air was crisp, the sky a pale gray, and the laughter of the staff echoed from the gardens. They greeted you as you passed, smiles and excitement clear on them.

John stood on the veranda, his hands in his pockets, watching the chaos with an indulgent smile. His sharp eyes softened immediately as they landed on you, snow dusting over your cheek already, giggling as Johnny aimed a snowball at Simon and missed spectacularly.

And then Johnny and Simon both turned their focus on you.

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” John called as you ducked behind a hedge for cover, joining a maid who grinned and helped you begin preparing snowballs.

“Come join us, Your Grace!” you called back, cupping your hands around your mouth.

His smirk widened, but he shook his head. “I’m better as a referee, my love.”

Kyle, ever practical, soon found himself roped into the game despite his earlier protests. You shrieked as he launched a surprisingly, scarily accurate snowball your way, only for Johnny to step in and shield you with his body, dramatically flopping into the snow as if mortally wounded.

“Go on without me, lass,” he groaned, sprawled on the ground. You and the maid watched him, giggling. “Tell my story… tell my bairns not to forget me…”

Your laughter rang out, bright and unrestrained, and you offered him a hand. “You’re ridiculous, Johnny.”

“Aye, but ye love it.” He replied with a wink, and checking that everyone else was sufficiently distracted and the maid has left, tugging you down into the snow beside him just for a few moments.

Simon joined soon after, his usual composed demeanor giving way to competitiveness as he and Kyle teamed up against Johnny. Even John eventually relented by your insistence and a little pleading pout, stepping off the veranda to orchestrate a proper snow fort building contest.

Hours passed in a blur of laughter and play just like that, the biting cold forgotten in the warmth of shared joy. By the time everyone slowly returned indoors, cheeks ruddy and clothes damp, the sitting room felt like a haven. You beloved, ever-attentive Kyle was the first to fetch a warm blanket for you, draping it over your shoulders with a small smile.

Johnny disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing a while later with steaming mugs of cocoa for everyone. “Best remedy for cold fingers, bonnie.” he declared, pressing a mug into your hands and then a kiss over your temple.

Simon settled beside you, his arm draped casually along the back of the settee, along your back, and you lean into him with a soft sigh. “You’ve got snow in your hair, darling,” he murmured, gently brushing it away.

John watched the scene from his armchair, chest warm and content. The sight of you, nestled among the men he trusted and loved most, your laughter lingering in the air, was enough to make him feel like the luckiest man alive.

As the fire crackled and the snow continued to fall outside, you leaned back, your heart full. Your eyes fluttered shut, dozing in and out of the river of dreams, and though the conversations around you continued they made sure to lower their voices. You could feel a familiar hand, gentle and careful and wholly Kyle, caress your cheek.

And with joy still lingering in your veins, warmth curling your chest, you fell asleep safe and happy.

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nhlclover · 1 month ago

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FIRST SNOWFALL JAMIE DRYSDALE

— event masterlist !

pairing: fem!reader x jamie drysdale

summary: after moving to philadelphia, you get your first snowy christmas, so jamie takes you outside to fully introduce you to snow.

warnings: descriptions of reader being from socal

wc: 1.14k

notes: fic 9 of my christmas event! as i'm writing this, we still have not gotten snow where i live... (UPDATE: it snowed literally a day after i wrote this🤐)

The morning light filtered through the slats of the blinds, casting a faint glow on the beige walls of the bedroom you now shared with Jamie in Philadelphia. The hum of the heating system was the only sound, a soft reminder of the cold winter that was approaching outside. You shuffled out of bed, your toes curling against the chill of the hardwood floor as you padded toward the window. Pulling the blinds aside, you froze.

The world beyond the glass was transformed. Snow blanketed every surface, turning the familiar street into a pristine, untouched wonderland. The cars parked along the curb were reduced to lumpy, formless mounds. The branches of the bare trees sagged under the weight of the thick white layer. It was mesmerizing, and your lips parted in awe.

“Jamie,” you called, your voice rising with excitement. “Jamie, wake up!”

From the bed, a groggy groan emerged as he stirred, his head popping up from the pillow, his dark hair sticking up in every direction. “What is it?” His voice was rough with sleep.

“It snowed,” you said, the words tumbling out in disbelief. “I mean, like, really snowed. The whole world’s… white.”

Jamie swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing at his eyes as he joined you at the window. His eyes, still heavy with sleep, widened slightly as he took in your expression, the kind of wide-eyed wonder that was rare in adults. “You’ve never seen snow before?” he asked, a slow grin spreading across his face.

You shook your head, still staring out. “No. Not like this. I mean, it’s Southern California. The closest I’ve gotten is fake snow at Disneyland.”

His laugh was soft, a low rumble that made your chest warm despite the chilly air in the room. “Well, get dressed. Layers,” he added, pointing a finger at you. “We’re going outside.”

“Right now?” You turned to him, incredulous.

“Right now,” he confirmed, already heading to the closet. “Can’t have you missing out on your first real snow day.”

The process of layering up was comical in itself. Jamie had to pause several times to explain what counted as "real winter gear" and why a hoodie wouldn’t cut it. By the time you were ready, you felt like the younger brother in A Christmas Story, your movements stiff under the weight of layers upon layers of fabric.

“Perfect,” Jamie declared, tugging on a beanie and some gloves. He was significantly less bundled up, but being born in Toronto, he was used to the snow and the cold. “Let’s go.”

The cold hit you first. The air was crisp, almost biting, as you stepped out onto the porch. Your breath puffed out in little clouds, and you could feel the chill settling into your nose and cheeks. But the sight of the snow up close — how it sparkled like a field of tiny diamonds — was enough to keep you from retreating back inside.

Jamie didn’t wait. He was already scooping up a handful of snow, testing its texture in his gloved hands. “It’s good packing snow,” he said, turning to you with a wicked grin. “Perfect for snowballs.”

“Snowballs?” you echoed, but before you could react, a soft projectile hit you square in the shoulder.

You gasped, your hands flying up in mock outrage. “Oh, you’re so going to regret that.”

What followed was a flurry of laughter and snow, as the two of you lobbed hastily-formed snowballs at each other. You squealed every time one hit its mark, the cold seeping through your jacket, but you couldn’t stop grinning. Eventually, a truce was called, and you both flopped onto the snow-covered lawn, where you attempted your first snow angel. The act of lying back in the cold, damp snow felt bizarre at first, the cold seeping through your sweatpants. Jamie was at your side, moving his arms and legs with exaggerated enthusiasm, and his laughter echoed, rich and full, when your own “angel” turned out crooked and uneven.

“So,” Jamie starts once you’ve both stood back up. “What are your final thoughts on snow?”

You glance around at the winter wonderland that consumed the tight-knight community in Philadelphia that you’d grown to call home. “I didn’t know it would be so pretty,” you say softly. “And so cold.”

Jamie smirked, shaking snow out of his hair. “Well, yeah. It’s snow,” he teased.

You roll your eyes at him, but the shivering that’s started to creep in undercuts your comeback. Jamie notices immediately, his brow furrowing. “You’re freezing,” he says, already on his feet. “Do you want to go back inside?”

You hesitate, glancing at the snowy expanse once more, reluctant to leave. But when another shiver racks your frame, you nod. “Yeah, let’s head in.”

Inside, the warmth hits you like a balm. Jamie turns on the fireplace while you peel off your damp layers, wrapping yourself in a plush blanket. By the time he joins you on the couch, the flames are dancing in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room.

Jamie hands you a steaming mug of hot chocolate, complete with a mountain of mini marshmallows on top. “Here,” he says, plopping down beside you and tucking his legs underneath him. “This’ll warm you up.”

You take the mug gratefully, letting the warmth seep into your fingers as you hold it close. The first sip is heavenly, rich and sweet, and you let out a satisfied hum. The warmth of the room and Jamie’s easy presence wrap around you like a cocoon. Outside, the snow still falls softly, blanketing the world in a peaceful silence. It feels like the kind of day meant for slowing down, savoring the little things.

You take another sip of your hot chocolate and glance at Jamie. “You know what would make this even better?”

“What’s that?” he asks, turning his head toward you.

“A Christmas movie,” you suggest, grinning.

Jamie raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, I see. You’ve got snow outside, a fire going, and now you want the full Hallmark experience?”

“Exactly,” you reply, laughing. “And you can’t say no. It’s my first snowy Christmas, after all.”

He rolls his eyes in mock defeat but reaches for the remote. “Fine. But I’m picking the movie.”

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. “Nothing boring or depressing, Jamie. It has to be a classic.”

He scrolls through the streaming options, the soft clicks of the remote filling the cozy silence. “Home Alone? It’s funny, Christmassy, and has a ton of snow.”

You agree, Jamie clicking play. As the opening notes of the movie fill the room, Jamie drapes an arm across the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder. You lean into him, the warmth of his touch and the crackling fire melting away the lingering chill.

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #philadephia flyers #jd09 #`✦ˑ ✒️ 𓂃⊹ my works #clover's twelve days of christmas!

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kezdispenser · 29 days ago

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Cuddling Isn’t in the Goddamn Manual

A Soldier Boy Christmas one shot

The snowstorm outside coated the city in a perfect winter wonderland. Streetlights cast a soft glow over the white-blanketed streets, and your apartment felt like a cozy little bubble insulated from the cold chaos beyond. The Christmas tree in the corner glimmered with fairy lights, and the smell of cinnamon cookies mixed with the faint aroma of the hot chocolate you’d just poured for yourself.

Ben—better known to the world as Soldier Boy—was slouched on your couch in full “tough guy” mode. His leather jacket was still zipped halfway up, his boots propped carelessly on the coffee table, and his beer dangling loosely in one hand. The perfect picture of a man who thought he was too cool for comfort.

“You know,” you said as you walked in and set your mug down on the side table, “you could at least take off your jacket and pretend to enjoy yourself. It’s Christmas Eve.”

He didn’t even glance at you, eyes fixed on the TV where some black-and-white holiday classic was playing. “Jacket stays on. Gotta stay ready for action.”

You snorted, flopping down onto the couch beside him. “What action? The reindeer uprising?”

That earned you a side-eye and a faint smirk, but he didn’t dignify it with a response.

“Anyway,” you continued, nudging his knee with your foot, “I was thinking we could cuddle for a bit. You know, really lean into the festive spirit.”

Ben’s laugh was loud and derisive, the kind of laugh that made it clear he thought you’d lost your damn mind. “Cuddling? You’re kidding, right?”

“Why would I be kidding? It’s Christmas! It’s cold! I’m cute!”

“Yeah, well, cuddling’s not exactly my thing,” he said, taking a swig of his beer. “Not manly. Never has been.”

“Oh, please,” you said, crossing your arms. “You’re telling me the guy who once hugged a flamethrower like it was his long-lost lover can’t handle a little cuddle?”

“That was different,” he said defensively.

“Uh-huh. Sure it was.” You leaned back dramatically, letting out a loud, theatrical sigh. “Fine. Guess I’ll just have to cuddle myself. Or, I don’t know, maybe the throw pillows. They’re softer than you, anyway.”

He scowled, his jaw tightening in that familiar way that meant you were getting under his skin. You knew him too well; you could see the flicker of hesitation in his eyes, the way his hand stilled on his beer bottle.

“You’re really not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” you said cheerfully, scooting a little closer to him. “Look, it’s Christmas Eve. Just one night, Ben. One tiny cuddle. No one’s gonna know, and I promise not to tell anyone you’re secretly a big teddy bear under all that macho posturing.”

He gave you a flat look. “I am not a teddy bear.”

“Sure you’re not,” you teased, poking his arm.

For a moment, you thought he was going to dig in his heels and keep up the act. But then he groaned, setting his beer down on the coffee table with a thud. “Fine. One night. But if you so much as think about telling anyone, I’m gone.”

Your grin was instantaneous and shameless. “Deal.”

Before he could change his mind, you crawled into his lap, making yourself comfortable as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He stiffened at first, like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself, but you weren’t worried.

“Relax,” you murmured, resting your head against his chest. “It’s not gonna kill you.”

“You don’t know that,” he muttered, though his hands slowly settled on your back.

You couldn’t help but smile as you felt him relax, his body softening against yours despite his grumbling. He was warm, solid, and oddly comforting in a way that didn’t match the image he projected to the world.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” he said after a while, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

“Of course not,” you said, biting back a laugh. “Just a totally meaningless Christmas cuddle.”

“Damn right.”

The movie played on in the background, the faint sound of holiday music filtering in from the street below. You closed your eyes, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you. His hand started tracing slow circles on your back, and you smiled to yourself.

“Hey,” he said after a while, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Merry Christmas, doll.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your smile widening. “Merry Christmas, Ben.”

And for that one night, Soldier Boy let himself be a little less soldier and a little more boy.

--------------

A/N: A little christmas miracle from soldier boy and from me to you guys.

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #christmas #cuddles

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gyorouis · 1 month ago

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── ✦ winter things.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⋆ synopsis⸝⸝ my baby's in town and we're gonna do some winter things.

꒰ genre⸝⸝ fluff, chaos, winter magic pairing⸝⸝ bf!soobin x afab!reader wc⸝⸝ 1.08k warning⸝⸝ extreme coziness, marshmallow casualties tune in⸝⸝ ariana grande — winter things ୨ৎ ꒱

“soobin, i think we’re cursed,” you announced dramatically, dropping your phone onto the couch.

he looked up from where he was setting down two mugs of hot chocolate, a marshmallow already melting into his. “what happened now?”

“the cabin canceled on us. snowstorm, apparently.” you flopped back onto the cushions with a sigh.

“you’re kidding,” he groaned, setting the mugs on the coffee table. “we planned this for weeks!”

“i know! i was so ready for hot tubs and snowy mountains and… not this,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the apartment.

soobin stared at you for a moment, then crossed his arms. “okay. new plan. we’re bringing the winter getaway here.”

“here? soobin, this is a 600-square-foot apartment.”

“and it’s about to become the coziest winter wonderland you’ve ever seen,” he declared, grabbing a blanket and tossing it over his shoulder like a cape.

two hours later, your living room looked like it had been taken over by a holiday enthusiast with no sense of restraint.

“soobin, why do we have twelve blankets out?” you asked, struggling to keep the fort you were building from collapsing.

“because comfort is key,” he replied, balancing a pillow on top of the blanket pile.

“this isn’t comfort; this is chaos,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help smiling.

he stepped back, surveying the structure. “it’s not chaos—it’s art.”

“it’s lopsided.”

“you’re lopsided,” he shot back, sticking his tongue out.

you threw a pillow at him, which he dodged with an exaggerated gasp. “violence in my own home?”

“you started it!”

“and i’ll finish it,” he said, launching himself into the fort, which promptly collapsed on both of you.

later, as you lay side by side under the remains of the fort, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“this is actually kind of nice,” you admitted, your voice soft.

“see? i told you i’m a genius,” soobin said, sipping his hot chocolate.

“don’t push it,” you warned, nudging him with your elbow.

he grinned, his dimples making an appearance. “admit it—you’re having fun.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t deny it. “okay, maybe a little.”

soobin’s next idea was “fake snow.”

“where did you even get this?” you asked as he pulled out a bag of white fluff.

“the craft store,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“i wanted it to be a surprise!”

the two of you spent the next hour sprinkling the fluff over every available surface.

“this is ridiculous,” you said, watching him carefully place a pile of snow on top of a bookshelf.

“this is festive,” he corrected, tossing a handful at you.

you gasped, grabbing your own handful. “oh, it’s on.”

what followed was a fake snow fight that ended with both of you laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe, fluff stuck in your hair and scattered all over the floor.

“you look like a snowman,” you said, picking a piece of fluff off his head.

“and you look like someone who lost the snowball fight,” he teased, his grin smug.

“oh, please. i let you win,” you shot back, though your cheeks were warm from the laughter.

the next scene started with soobin raiding the kitchen cabinets.

“what are you doing now?” you asked, watching him stack various snacks on the counter.

“making s’mores,” he said simply.

“soobin, we don’t even have a fire.”

“details,” he said, holding up a lighter and a fork.

“this feels illegal,” you said as he skewered a marshmallow and held it over the tiny flame.

“it’s innovative,” he argued, rotating the marshmallow carefully.

you leaned closer, inspecting his work. “you’re going to set the apartment on fire.”

“not if you keep distracting me.”

somehow, he managed to toast the marshmallow perfectly, and soon, you were both sitting cross-legged on the floor, assembling makeshift s’mores.

“this is a mess,” you said as chocolate smeared onto your fingers.

“it’s a delicious mess,” soobin corrected, biting into his creation with a satisfied grin.

you laughed, shaking your head. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, you’re still here,” he said, leaning over to wipe a bit of chocolate from the corner of your mouth.

later that evening, the two of you sat in front of the fireplace, which was really just a space heater with a digital flame effect.

“this wasn’t the plan,” you said, leaning against soobin’s shoulder.

“no,” he agreed, resting his head against yours. “but i think it’s better.”

“better?”

“yeah,” he said softly. “it’s just us. no distractions, no fancy trips. just... this.”

you looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “you’re kind of sappy, you know that?”

he laughed, his cheeks turning pink. “only for you.”

“you’re lucky i like sappy,” you teased, though your heart was warm.

“good,” he said, reaching for your hand. “because i think i’m going to be like this for a while.”

before bed, soobin had one last idea.

“we need music,” he announced, grabbing his phone.

“what kind of music?” you asked, watching as he scrolled through his playlist.

“something cozy,” he said, settling on a soft acoustic track.

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, the gentle strumming of the guitar filling the room.

“dance with me,” he said suddenly, standing up and offering you his hand.

“soobin, there’s no space to dance,” you protested.

“we’ll make space,” he said, pulling you to your feet.

you laughed as he twirled you around the small living room, narrowly avoiding the coffee table.

“this is ridiculous,” you said, though you couldn’t stop smiling.

“it’s perfect,” he said, his voice quiet.

as the song ended, he pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“thank you for putting up with me,” he said softly.

you closed your eyes, leaning into him. “always.”

the glow of the makeshift winter wonderland wrapped around you like a hug.

it wasn’t the snowy getaway you’d planned, but as you looked at soobin, his eyes sparkling and his dimples on full display, you realized it didn’t matter.

sometimes, the best memories weren’t about where you were or what you were doing—they were about who you were with.

gyo's note: hi, i don’t even know what this is, but i was in my winter feelings, and soobin being soft just felt right. i hope this feels like a warm hug or at least makes you smile a little. lmk what you think if you want, no pressure. okay, bye. ⛄if you made it this far, thank you! (,,>﹏<,,) you will be loved, xoxo!

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luvrxbunny · 1 year ago

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winter wonderland

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Prompt: Strip Club

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 2.9k

A/N: uhh idk i kinda feel like i have to have an author's note? Idk what to say tho (not proofread) and um. ily guys <3

Bucky walks around his club, admiring his dancers- not sexually, never in that way. He admires them for their discipline, strength, and determination, he couldn’t do half the things they do on the pole, all with a smile and trying to look appealing to the hungry gaze of the men in the audience. He makes sure everything is ready for tonight, he just expanded to a new area and this is his grand opening. He hired some new talent, a new bartender, and spared no expense on alcohol, lights, and outfits for his girls.

He walks past the practice room and hears music blaring inside, a slow sultry, rock-esk song. He turns to see a group of girls standing by the window, watching whatever’s happening inside the room. “Psst.” He gets the attention of one of the girls, Fawn. “What’s happening in there?” He keeps his voice low, a hushed whisper to not distract the other girls and Fawn’s face lights up in excitement. “Oh my god, Winter. You haven’t met her?!” Her New York accent is thick with shock.

He feels a bit embarrassed at her reaction and she’s right, he should’ve met her by now but he’s been too busy. His expansion took him away from being hands-on more than he had accounted for, he had to outsource hiring to Cheetah. He gives her a shrug and prompts her to keep talking. “Well, she’s new to the scene, a cute little thing, nice little schtick she’s got going on.” He nods as she speaks, taking in her little pieces of information. “She- You know what? No. Go meet her! You were there for my audition, the poor girl hasn’t even seen you yet.”

He looks at her with his eyes wide, surprised at how she’s commending him, someone who’s technically her boss. “Okay, Fawn. Tone down the spice.” He scoffs at her with a smirk before opening the door, her cackle-like laugh fading out as he enters the room. Your music takes over his ears, a harsh beat, mechanical type of song. When he looks up you’re nothing like he expected. You have baby pink lingerie on, bunny ears sprouting from your head, soft white cuffs on your wrists and ankles with jewels littering your body. Your eyes are closed, your bottom lip tucked beneath your teeth, your brows furrowed in concentration as you spin, flip your body, and slide down the pole, showing off the little tuft, your bunny tail, at the base of your spine.

Your eyes are still shut lightly as you flip again, your feet planted on the ground as you walk around the pole slowly. There’s an irresistible arch in your back and you keep your toes pointed as they touch down on the ground. You spin yourself around, a ballerina spin before unhooking your leg and repositioning your hand for a carousel spin, showing yourself off. The song ends and you slowly drop yourself to the ground, sitting pretty with your hands still on the pole while the music dies out. You flop back onto the floor, panting from exertion with a smile on your face and your eyes still closed.

He just stares at you for a moment, your skin glistening with sweat, your chest heaving, and his dick pressing desperately against the fabric of his pants.

He never reacts to his dancers like this, it’s always purely appreciative, of their art and the work they put in. He knows the business inside out, he’s seen the struggle his dancers go through to keep their bodies appealing, to master certain moves. He’s never been able to see the arousal of it since seeing the inner workings, it’s like watching a workout video to him. Your dance though, the way you move, your outfit, the stark contrast between your aesthetic and the song, something about it all seemed to be a perfect storm for him. He’s buzzing with want. He wants you.

You’re still panting on the ground, your breaths beginning to even out some more when he speaks up. “That was impressive.” You shoot up into a seated position, your breaths quickening again in fear. Your eyes land on him and you stand up, covering your body slightly as you back up, standing behind the pole like it could help you, the action brings a soft smile to his face. “Who are you?”

He walks towards you, taking his hands from his pockets and holding them up in surrender. You back up even further and notice the window in the practice room, and how many girls are giggling on the other side. You jump and look back at him frantically- seemingly surprised at how many people had been watching you. “Calm down, honey. I’m Winter, this is my club.” Your back straightens and your hands drop to your sides before settling behind your back and you half bow to him before standing up straight and shaking your head at yourself.”Oh-! Hell- Hi, sir. I- My name is B- well, I go by Bunny.”

You have a soft, nervous smile and your eyes keep darting to the girls in the window, gawking at the interaction. “Nice to meet you, Bunny. Would you like to come to my office?” You breathe out a sigh of relief and nod at him desperately before rushing to his side, following him out of the practice room and into his office.

He gives you a large coat he had on a rack in the corner of his office with a chuckle before walking around to sit on his side of the desk. “Sorry, I don’t have something nicer for you. I usually have these really nice bath towel type things? But I uh- I left them at my other location so…” He trails off awkwardly and smooths his hands over his desk. He looks up at you and you’re just staring at him with a little amused smirk on your face. “What?”

You giggle at him, leaning forward as you laugh and he tries not to stare at your cleavage. “You’re- You seem awfully nervous for like- a strip club owner.” He actually belly laughs at that, it shoots from his chest, shocking to his own ears when he hears him. His laughs die down before your giggles and his chest warms at the sound, along with his cock as the rest of his blood rushes south. “To be honest, Bunny. I think that’s just you.” You laugh even more at that and it stabs his ego for a moment.

“I’m the only one who thinks that? I mean- It could be just how I’m seeing the situation but-” He tries not to laugh at your misunderstanding. “No, Bunny.” He cuts you off. “You’re the only one who makes me nervous.” Your rambling stops short, your back straightens again and his jacket begins to fall off your shoulders, exposing a bit more of your outfit. His eyes can’t help but dart down to take the sight in. It stabs him with arousal, he takes a sharp breath and leans back in his chair, spreading his legs to give his cock more room to grow, filling and fattening up for you.

“M-me? Cus- Is it like- because you- because we haven’t met before or..?” Your eyes dart around the room and your breathing is picking up. He can see your hips wiggling in the seat, either grinding into it or pressing your legs together- his new position takes his view from your lower half. His eyes trail up your body before meeting yours. “That’s not why, sweetheart.” You shake your head lightly with a little breath of disbelief. You have a questioning look in your eyes, like you truly believe that he’s lying or you’re completely misreading the situation.

“I mean-” You gain a cocky smirk, like you’ve finally figured out what’s really happening. “I’m a stripper, it’s kinda my jo-ob” You have a little tune in your voice, sing-songy, like it’s a joke. His face is straight when you look back up to him, not finding one hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Actually.” He sits back up in his chair, clasping his hands over his desk and leaning into you. “I find it harder to understand the- the more erotic side of stripping. Your work is artistic to me, I’m generally indifferent to all my dancers but-” His breathing shudders as he recalls your dance. “Something about your-” His mouth gapes as he tries to pinpoint what it is exactly that’s affecting him so much but he can’t think of just one. “You. Something about you is- seems to be affecting me.”

His eyes trail up your body and stop on yours as he finishes his sentence. There’s something so penetrating about his gaze, you can feel yourself heating up under it, a tingle growing between your legs and your panties beginning to dampen. You’re still cautious though, for all you know he could do this with every dancer. “You don’t usually—?” He cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “Never.”

You look him over, taking in his features and deciding whether he’s lying or not. You look in his eyes and they look… truthful. So you lunge for him, crashing his lips into yours, earning a shocked moan from his lips as his large hand comes up to hold your head in place. You lean closer to him, trying to get as close as possible until the desk begins to dig into your ribcage. You separate from him with a moan, a dissatisfied whine falling from his lips until he sees you rushing to his side of the desk, immediately seating yourself in his lap and connecting your lips back to his.

His hands are on your hips with a groan as he instantly grinds up into you, pressing his hot bulge against your clothed clit. You moan into his mouth, detaching your lips to watch the way his hips move against you, how his hands dig into your hips and grind you onto his cock. His head is thrown back and he’s moaning a bit louder than you would’ve expected, you’re drinking them up. You look back at him and arch your back, leaning to him and changing the angle of your hips over his cock. You kiss at his chin, whining against his bottom lip as he assaults your clit.

The fabric of the lingerie is creating so much friction against your clit, it feels good until it borders on painful, almost rubbing you raw with the rough material until he sticks his hand through the side of your panties, gathers all your nectar that’s been resting at the entrance of your hole and spread it all over your pussy, bringing that perfect slickness back to your clit and winning himself a moan of “Winter” against his neck.

He grunts at your outburst and brings his hands back to your hips. “Bucky, sweetheart. Call- shit. Call me, Bucky, baby.” You whine louder into his neck, insanely turned on by the fact that he trusts you with his real name and wants you to moan it for him. You’re too in your head though, mulling over your own thoughts, in the clouds to comply with his wishes. He thinks it’s because he’s not giving you enough so he backs your hips up.

Your head is buried in his neck and you whine at the loss of movement. You peek your head back to see what he’s doing and watch him fumble with his underwear, jeans already undone and unzipped, his hand now down his pants, jerking himself quickly before pulling it out. Your hips tilt to him subconsciously once his cock is out, red, leaking, and throbbing for you. You can already imagine how deep he’ll go, how sore you’ll be after, and how you won’t be able to think of anything but him while you dance for other men.

You lunge for his lips again as your hand reaches down for his cock, your fingers overlapping with his as you wrap your hand around his tip, forcing his out of the way as you slide down his shaft. He moans into your lips and brings his hand to the back of your head, holding your face to his lips more aggressively as his hips begin to thrust into your hand rhythmically. You pull back and consider letting him cum like this. The sight is something to behold, his shirt slightly lifted, showing off his happy trail to his unzipped jeans, his cock, big, pink, and pulsing in your hand with his eyes squeezed shut and moans spilling from his lips. You almost let him cum like that.

But then his thrusts change into a swivel, fucking himself into your hand languid and passionately and you’re suddenly jealous of your fist. So you let go, pull your panties aside, and seat yourself on his cock before he can even process what’s happening. His eyes shoot open with a yelp and one hand comes to grip your hip painfully while the other slams down on the desk before running over his face and through his hair. “D- hmmm.” He breathes out a frustrated breath of air that sounds like a groan. “I’m trying to last for you, Bunny. I don’t do this.” His hand loosely gestures between the two of you.

You’re nodding at him, half understanding what he’s saying but most of your strength is trying to stop your pussy from fluttering around him due to the intense stare he’d holding you with as he reprimands you. You breathe a sigh of relief and immediately start bouncing on his cock once he’s done talking. His eyes roll back and his hands grip your hips, trying to keep them down but not having enough strength to stop the overwhelming pleasure you’re pummeling him with. “Bunny-” He says your name like a warning and his hand tenses over your hip, you would listen if you weren't so far gone.

His cock has been pressed against your G-Spot since you dropped yourself on him. Your legs are too weak to push yourself off his cock far enough to rearrange him so you’ve just been fucking him into that spot again and again, unable to escape the pleasure. Your eyes are permanently on the ceiling, almost rolled back and your mouth open, letting ruined moans fall from your lips like a siren song. You’re calling to him, begging him with your sounds to take over and thrust himself into you, asking for him to fill your tight pussy.

His hands tighten over your waist and grind you onto him as his hips begin to jump in his chair, fucking into you with a force that’s making you see stars. “Bucky! Th- there! Don’t stop, Bucky.” You wrap your arms around him and his hand comes to the arch of your back, holding your body against him. “Fuck. What’re you doin’ to me, doll? Gonna make me cum so hard.” His hand slides to your upper back as your head lifts from his neck, your dazed eyes fixated on his lips. “M’gonna cum so hard for you.” His hand pushes you into his lips with a moan, you’re able to catch the way his eyes roll back when your lips meet before yours slip shut. He whines into your lips as his thrusts become weaker, more frantic, and lose their pace.

You pull away from him to moan into his mouth, unable to contain any sounds as he shoves you over the edge. Your body convulses, folding into his as you become a vice around him, choking his cock and forcing his orgasm to spew from his tip. It tears through him like a hurricane, every muscle tensing, his arms almost crushing you in their embrace as a painful groan shakes out of him and devolves into a whimper as your pussy coaxes more cum from his pulsing cock.

Your hips are grinding into him mindlessly, overstimulating the both of you as your orgasms die down. Bucky is whining pathetically under you, begging you to stop, slow down, and calm down all with his hands still on your hips. Instead of stopping you though, he’s just resting them there, letting you take whatever you need from him with no resistance.

Your hips eventually calm down, slowing to a stop over him, resting your head on his shoulder and basking in the silence of the room, in how his hand rubs over your back before pausing to draw random shapes. You’re drifting to sleep in his hold, humming contentedly when he presses kisses to the top of your head.

Someone knocks and opens his door without waiting got an answer. He spins in his chair around to hide your body from view. “What is the point of knocking if you’re not going to wait for an answer?” He speaks to the person in a sharp whisper. “Oh. My. God. I didn’t mean for you to get to know her like this! Jeez, boss.” Fawn. He turns slightly, only enough to see her and so she can see the serious look on his face. “Not a word to anyone.” She rolls her eyes and pulls his door shut with a snort.

You start to writhe in his lap, groaning, and your brows furrow. He coos at you until you fall back into your deep sleep, a soft smile on his face when you bury your face in his neck and breathe out a soft exhale. He whispers soft words in your ear, rubbing over your skin to keep you warm until showtime.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

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loki-cees-all · 29 days ago

Text

I'm Dreaming of A White Christmas

Cee's James Conrad Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : James Conrad x Female Reader

Summary : After another long journey through the hot jungle with Conrad, you come to the startling realization that it’s actually Christmas Eve.

W/c : 2.8k words

Content / Warnings : Non-traditional Christmas smut, Non-traditional Christmas fluff.

Author’s Note : This fic is dedicated to Climate Change, for making me have to suffer through 20+ years of Christmas without a single fucking flake of snow to show for it 🙃

18+ Only - Minors DNI

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Sweaty would have been an understatement.

After two days in the jungle, after traipsing through endless amounts of grimy mud and sticky bushes and shouting yourself raw, it felt like no amount of cold showers was ever going to bring your body temperature back down to something reasonable.

Hell, it was damn near midnight now, and the outside humidity was still hovering well over 90%. But even in those conditions, the entire ordeal was worth it in the end.

You probably spent over half an hour in the shower once you made it back to the hostel. Just standing there, letting the water run down your scalp and skin, until your muscles were too heavy and exhausted to even reach for a bar of soap. Instead, your eyes fluttered closed while your mind replayed the dramatic events over the past two days.

Eventually you forced yourself to actually wash yourself and dry off. Conrad would surely be back soon, if he wasn’t already, and you wanted to be waiting for him when he finally returned. You wanted to hear about the look of joy on that poor mother’s face when her child was finally returned safely.

After dressing in what passes for clean clothes these days, you begin to sweat again before even making it back to the room. Cursing God, and Lucifer, and Jesus, and anyone else you could think of, you pushed open the door and flopped unceremoniously onto the stiff bed.

Christ, even the bedsheets were sticky and miserable. It’s a good thing you were so unbelievably exhausted, otherwise you might never be able to fall asleep tonight. And a sticky bed was way better than sleeping on the ground at least, but still - you’d absolutely murder someone just for the chance at a crisp, heavy snowfall tonight.

For a chilly, decadent Winter Wonderland, a fuzzy sweater, and a creamy hot chocolate. It’d been ages since you’d last felt a genuine shiver…

Groaning, you slowly push up to sitting and try to blink yourself awake. While rolling your shoulders to pop your neck, you glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It read half an hour till midnight, and your heart rate picked up a little bit. Only an hour had passed since temporarily parting ways with Conrad, and you already couldn’t wait to see him again.

To keep yourself occupied while waiting, you step gingerly over to the single table in your room and grab your canvas knapsack from the chair. Inside the bag, nestled between your empty canteen and a seemingly endless supply of empty peanut wrappers, is the journal you used to document your adventures with Conrad.

The journal has definitely seen better days. Its edges are bent and torn, the cover is littered with mud and water stains - but it was your most prized possession. Inside those pages were beautiful, tragic, tales of both wanderlust and wonderful lust. Traveling with Conrad was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, from midnight skinny-dipping to beach camping and stargazing.

You’d seen more marvels of the world than most people ever get to dream about. And the fact that you got to experience it all with such a stunning man was nothing more than a miracle.

In-between those special moments, there would occasionally be a less-than savory or even potentially dangerous mission to take on. They were just in order to fund your more pleasant adventures, but even the stress and peril was well worth it to you. Every moment with that tall, devastatingly handsome, perfectly muscular and very protective former soldier was a dream come true - snowy weather or not.

A warm breeze drifts in through the open window, charitably stirring the stagnant air in the room. It was a temporary reprieve, and just enough to get you to uncap your pen and begin writing.

Over the next several pages, recollections of the previous days’ events poured out seamlessly. The stop at this small village, just a day’s walk from Saigon, was supposed to be a quick one; just long enough to find a place to bathe and stock up on supplies for the final trek of your journey.

But as soon as Conrad heard a mother’s anguished screams of terror down the street, he literally dropped everything and took off running. By the time you managed to pay the vendor, gather the purchased wares from the street and take off after him, he had disappeared.

A few minutes later you finally managed to find him, down on his knees and comforting the distraught mother in broken Vietnamese while her neighbors and other children shouted additional information to him. Eventually, he was able to determine that the woman’s youngest child, a boy no more than 2 or 3 years old, had taken off suddenly - possibly into the jungle, and definitely terribly lost.

One look from Conrad was all it took to let you know that Saigon could wait; finding this missing child was way more important than any other task he’d ever been given. Only a monster would ever disagree with him about something like that.

Shortly thereafter, you were journeying back into the jungle with Conrad, alongside the woman’s brother and his two eldest children. All four of you walked from sunrise to sundown, meticulously searching every inch of the earth in widening, concentric circles - slowly venturing further and further into the jungle, looking for clues and desperately calling out the name of the missing child.

If it were up to Conrad, you knew he’d keep looking throughout the night, and that he was only stopping at sunset to give you and the others a chance to rest. But as soon as he thought you were asleep, he’d slip out of your tent and go off searching by himself all night, returning to camp just before sunrise and looking more weary than ever.

But eventually, you all did manage to find the child. When Conrad pulled that scared little boy down from the tree, you wept actual tears of joy. He was mostly uninjured, just frightened and starving and sporting a few more scrapes and cuts than before. And after getting a little bit of food and water into his belly, the former soldier dutifully carried him all the way back to the village.

He’d directed you to go straight to the hostel to get cleaned up while he returned the child to his mother, and that was where the journal entry concluded for now. Your eyes filled with happy tears once more as you skimmed over the words you’d just written; you’d never ever seen Conrad more pleased or relieved than in the moment when he finally located the little boy alive.

Finding people and reuniting lost loved ones was in his blood, it was woven tightly into his DNA. It was what he lived for most; the one thing he’d never been able to have himself.

With a relieved sigh, you flip back a few pages to check the date of the previous entry, and your breath suddenly hitches in surprise. Could this be right?! Maybe all the sweat was seeping into your brain and drowning all of your synapses beyond functionality…

But no. You double- and then triple-check. You count on your fingers, you write out each date individually in the margin of the page. The last entry, written the morning you and Conrad were due to arrive in the village, two whole days prior, was dated December 22nd. Making today…December 24th.

Christmas Eve.

Your heart flutters in your chest as a wave of excitement and painful nostalgia crashes over the room. Life is so much different now than when you were a kid; of course Christmas wouldn’t be any exception, no matter how much you loved the holiday. And it doesn’t feel right, sweating and feeling like you’re boiling alive on the day before Christmas - yet, here it is all the same.

Mercifully, the pain is short-lived as you sense the familiar thud of Conrad’s boots finally coming up the stairs. The sound of his voice, spirited yet exhausted, reverberates off your skin as he laughs with another guest of the hostel. You barely have enough time to bite your lip in anticipation before he’s bursting into the room, a lovely grin on his face and his jeans and knapsack covered in dirt and muck.

Like he’s Santa Clause, and he’s finally come round to you, bearing gifts of good news and his very own presence.

You hop out of your seat, matching his giddy grin with one of your own. “Kid’s back home now? Safe and sound?”

Before he can even finish nodding, you’re across the room and jumping into his arms. Luckily, Conrad is already quite adept with this maneuver and he catches you with ease, bracing his arms underneath your thighs as they wrap around his waist.

“Was that doubt I sensed in your tone just now, darling?” he teases playfully against your lips, his large hands shifting to grip your ass.

You laugh, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck and shifting closer in his grasp to let your lips brush against his. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of doubting you…”

“There’s a good girl…” Conrad purrs before closing the distance between your lips, kissing you passionately and eagerly.

You moan into it, shifting one hand to cup his jaw as your lips part between his. Rushed and heated, his kisses taste like salt and sun and rain. Like home; a new one, completely the opposite of where you’d originally come from, but still somehow everything you’d ever needed.

It’s funny how things work out like that.

Before you can take another breath, he begins walking you both backwards, his hands squeezing your ass before you both go toppling onto the bed. As soon as you land and arch yourself beneath him, his kisses shift down your jaw to your neck, his teeth gently scraping against the delicate skin there.

“Christ, you smell incredible…” he groans deeply, his hands sliding up over your hips and underneath your tank top.

You let out a soft hum, grinning as he pushes the tank top up over your breasts, and then gasping as his lips find your nipple. Conrad was always a hungry man, but never more so than after a win like today.

“It’s called showering, Captain. You should try it sometime…”

His smirk grows exponentially after you tease him, devilish and intense as he crawls back up to let his lips hover just a heated breath above yours.

“Perhaps you should’ve waited for me…washed my back, while I washed yours…” he groans, the sound of it breathless and sinfully delirious already. For good measure, he rolls his hips in an enticing manner, slowly increasing the pressure against your throbbing clit.

As if you needed any additional reasons to want him this badly.

With each roll of his hips, you shudder in pleasure, the need at the apex of your thighs slowly drenching the fabric between you both. You need no further enticing and pull his face down, crushing his lips against yours in an even more desperate, more hurried kiss than before.

The next few moments are a flurry of breathless moans and needy groans. Two sets of hands work on one another’s clothing, pushing and pulling and stripping until you’re both as bare as the day each of you were born.

And then suddenly, Conrad’s inside you. That familiar stretch graces you once more, kindly blessing the ever-present ache that’s existed ever since you first laid eyes on him. Your back arches further, the heels of your feet dig into his hips and you both moan in unison as he sinks in, burying himself all the way to the hilt.

It isn’t the first time he’d had you, nor will it be the last, but it had been almost three whole days. Too long, practically a lifetime considering how good it always is - but even so, his pace is slow and languid, like he’s savoring it. He’s not a man drowning in a river after almost dying of thirst, but a man who’s been waiting patiently for a reward most definitely well-earned.

You can’t help the gasping laugh that escapes in a sudden rush of endorphins. Your heart lurches in your chest and your pupils dilate until there’s just a sliver of color left around them. This is a reward, yes, but it’s also more than that - it’s a gift.

Conrad, a dedicated and well-trained soldier until the very end, doesn’t miss a beat even after you laugh again and your arms tighten around his neck. He merely nips at your jaw while a curious smirk tugs at his cheeks, his hips continuing so smooth and fluid in their undulating.

“Something funny, dear?”

You gasp again as he punctuates that final word by slipping a large hand underneath your skull, cradling it gently and tilting it upwards. It’s a stunning move, making you feel so safe and small while he makes love to you. Your eyelids flicker, and he follows suit as you let out yet another breathless laugh.

“It’s Christmas…” you murmur, almost in a daze. You’re not even sure if the words are audible as a rush of light crashes over you.

“Is it now?” Conrad grins, mistakenly taking your statement as one of pure praise instead of just a reflection of today’s date. He thrusts harder, and lets out a deep groan as your muscles tighten in response.

You moan again and start to feel like you’re floating. Consistent breaths in and out are a thing of the past, but still, you manage a frenzied response. You want him to know the truth, to celebrate the special day with him.

“No - it’s…oh, God, fuck - the 25th! It’s the 25th…”

Conrad’s moaning along with you, drowning out any response in a sea of incoherence. His hips thrust deeper, the taut muscles of his back flexing and contracting in a quick rhythm underneath your hands. His forehead falls against yours, his gasps and exhales heavily washing over your cheeks and lips and nose. He’s starting to lose his mind, and the last thing you can see clearly are his eyes rolling back into his head.

It’s so incredibly hot when he loses control, the shameless passion he openly shows to you and only you. It’s the complete opposite of the winter wonderland you were dreaming of earlier. But when your thighs start to shake, he changes the angle of his thrusts - and then all of a sudden, it finally feels like Christmas.

Usually when you come, he makes you see stars, but not tonight. This time, you see Christmas lights - reds and whites and greens and blues all sparkling and dancing together in unison. The room instantaneously becomes a frigid, barren landscape and Conrad is the only warm thing left in existence, his fire crackling and popping against the deep and endless midnight sky.

Keeping you safe inside the great big dark unknown. A guiding light towards the brighter days lingering ahead.

You whimper as you come, from the sheer force of it, and Conrad tips right over the edge with you. His back arches to push himself deeper, his hips move frantically, pushing and pulling his cock over and over between your tight muscles like he just can’t help himself.

And why shouldn’t he? He performed a Christmas miracle yesterday.

It all feels like a dream, but eventually, Conrad’s hips slow, and he collapses on top of you. For a moment, neither of you can move, other than gasping for breath and whimpering with each uncontrollable twitch and spasm of every nerve and muscle. Slick skin marks both the mutual satisfaction and the need for another shower - and as long as you don’t pass out beforehand, this time you’d be honored to wash Conrad’s back for him.

Recovery takes longer than usual. Maybe it’s the culmination of the previous few days, the heat, the date; maybe it’s the reflection of the past year as a whole, or the hopeful promises of what the next one might bring. But when Conrad adjusts, and then tightens, his arms around you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and taking in a deep breath, you know it’s all of the above.

You hug him tighter in return. You press your lips to his ear, his jaw, his hair. Anywhere you can reach, anything that’s him. He’s made your year an incredible one, and you were sure that the next one was going to be even better.

Conrad lets out a deep, peaceful hum. One that reverberates deep into your heart and makes it skip a beat. He tilts his head and presses a deep, tender kiss to your cheek.

“Is it really the 25th?” he murmurs softly.

“Yeah, it is…” you laugh, turning your head and nuzzling your face against his. “Merry Christmas, Conrad…”

He chuckles and returns the sweet gesture, adding in a tender caress of your jaw. His eyes flicker up and then down your face, examining and completely mesmerized by everything he finds. Everything you feel about him, he returns tenfold, and it shows in every flicker of light in his eyes, mesmerizing and breathtaking.

“Merry Christmas, darling…”

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amethystarachnid · 16 days ago

Note

Hi rose!!

Could i request ‘Christmas Caroling (Disaster)’ from your marvel holiday special with (platonic relationship) natasha romanoff and fem!reader? just banter, fluff and laughs! If you don’t write for Nat or don’t write platonic relationships, feel free to change any details!

Thank you!

CAROLING & SNOWBALL FIGHTS

⤷ NATASHA A. ROMANOFF

ᯓ★ Pairing: Natasha A. Romanoff x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff, platonic

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 3.5k

ᯓ★ Summary: You're feeling bored so your best friend, Natasha Romanoff herself, takes matters into her own hands and decides to make you have som fun outside the Compound.

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

It’s another quiet morning at the Avengers Compound, snowflakes tumbling lazily past the frosted windows. You’ve been staring at the same book for an hour, the words blending into an indecipherable blur. With a sigh, you drop it on the coffee table and stretch, looking around the room for something, anything, to do. The holiday decorations you and the team painstakingly put up last week sparkle in the soft light, but even they can’t hold your attention.

“Bored, huh?” Natasha’s voice makes you jump. She’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, an amused smirk on her lips. She’s dressed casually in a dark hoodie and jeans, her red hair pulled into a loose braid. The sight is almost comical; you’re used to seeing her geared up for a mission, not looking like she’s about to suggest a Netflix marathon.

“Is it that obvious?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Painfully,” she replies, stepping into the room. She flops onto the couch beside you, stealing the mug of hot chocolate you’d abandoned earlier. “What’s the problem, Y/N? Cabin fever?”

“Something like that,” you admit. “I can’t take another day of sitting around here doing nothing. I swear I’ll lose my mind.”

Natasha takes a sip, watching you over the rim of the mug. She’s silent for a moment before her face lights up with an idea. “Let’s get out of here.”

You blink at her. “Out of here? Like, where?”

“Central Park,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s snowing, it’s December, and I’m guessing you’ve never seen it in full winter wonderland mode.”

“That’s because I value my extremities,” you quip, though a grin tugs at the corners of your mouth. The idea is already growing on you. “But fine. If I lose a finger to frostbite, you owe me a really good story to make up for it.”

Natasha rolls her eyes but grabs your hand, pulling you off the couch. “Deal. Now go bundle up, rookie.”

Ten minutes later, you’re layered up in coats, scarves, and gloves, feeling like a marshmallow on legs. Natasha teases you mercilessly about your knit hat, but you point out that at least you’ll be warm. She’s only wearing a simple beanie and claims she doesn’t feel the cold—a classic spy move, you’re sure.

The streets are bustling when you arrive in Manhattan, but the chaos is strangely comforting. The city hums with energy, a mix of holiday cheer and the usual fast-paced New York vibe. As you approach Central Park, the snow seems to muffle the noise, wrapping everything in a blanket of quiet beauty.

Natasha leads the way, her boots crunching in the snow. The paths are partially cleared, but the open spaces are covered in a thick layer of pristine white. You spot families building snowmen and kids racing each other on sleds. A few brave souls are attempting to ice skate on the frozen pond.

“This is actually kind of nice,” you admit, looking around in awe.

“Told you,” Natasha says smugly, tossing a snowball at your shoulder. It’s a lazy throw, but you still yelp in surprise, brushing the snow off your coat.

“Oh, you’re asking for it now,” you warn, bending down to scoop up your own handful of snow. Natasha dodges easily, laughing as your attempt sails harmlessly past her.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” she taunts, darting behind a tree for cover. You chase after her, and soon you’re both caught in an all-out snowball fight, ducking and weaving like you’re in some kind of ridiculous winter-themed action movie. Natasha is annoyingly good at dodging, but you manage to land a few hits, much to your satisfaction.

Eventually, you call a truce, both of you panting and grinning like kids. “I can’t feel my hands,” you complain, shaking the snow out of your gloves.

“Rookie mistake,” Natasha says, but she’s smiling, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Come on. Let’s walk for a bit.”

The two of you stroll along the snowy paths, the playful mood giving way to something softer. The park is quieter now, the light fading as the afternoon stretches toward evening. The snow-covered trees and twinkling lights give everything a magical quality, like you’ve stepped into a postcard.

“Thanks for this,” you say after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. “I really needed it.”

Natasha shrugs, but there’s a warmth in her eyes. “You’ve been looking a little stir-crazy. Figured you could use a change of scenery.”

“Still,” you insist, bumping her shoulder with yours. “You didn’t have to. You could’ve left me to rot in my boredom.”

“What kind of friend would I be if I did that?” she asks, her tone light but sincere. The word “friend” hangs in the air, and you realize just how much it means to you. Natasha isn’t the easiest person to get close to, but moments like this remind you how much she cares in her own quiet way.

As you continue your walk, you can’t help but laugh at the sight of Natasha sneaking marshmallows from a street vendor selling hot chocolate. She insists they don’t count as stealing since she bought a drink, but the grin on her face says otherwise. You both sit on a park bench, steaming cups in hand, and watch as the first stars begin to appear in the darkening sky.

“This is perfect,” you say softly, the warmth of the hot chocolate seeping into your gloves.

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees, her voice equally quiet. “It is.”

The two of you sit there for a long time, the world around you fading into the background. For once, there’s no mission, no chaos, no looming threat—just you, your best friend, and the peaceful beauty of a snowy December evening.

You’re mid-sip of your hot chocolate, savoring the warmth, when something smacks into the back of your head with a dull thud. You nearly spill the drink in surprise and spin around, only to see a rogue snowball disintegrating against the back of the bench. Natasha freezes mid-sip, her eyes widening slightly, and you catch the faintest twitch of a smirk.

Before you can react, a chorus of giggles erupts from somewhere nearby. A group of kids stands a few feet away, their faces half-hidden by scarves and hats, but their mischievous intent is clear. One of them holds up another snowball like it’s a trophy, daring you to respond.

Natasha, ever the professional, turns her head slowly toward you, her expression unreadable. “Well, Y/N,” she says, setting her cup down with deliberate care. “You’re not going to let them get away with that, are you?”

You blink at her. “What? They’re just kids—”

Before you can finish the sentence, Natasha has already scooped up a handful of snow, molded it into a perfect sphere, and lobbed it with expert precision. The kid with the snowball barely dodges, letting out a shriek of laughter.

“Natasha!” you hiss, horrified and impressed in equal measure.

“They started it,” she says with a shrug, but the gleam in her eyes tells you she’s fully committed to this impromptu war. Another snowball flies past her head, and she ducks, motioning for you to follow her lead. “Come on, rookie. Don’t make me fight this battle alone.”

Reluctantly—and with a ridiculous amount of glee—you scramble off the bench and join her behind the nearest tree. Snowballs fly back and forth in a chaotic flurry. The kids are surprisingly coordinated for their age, and you’re pretty sure one of them is an aspiring pitcher with how fast their throws are.

Natasha, however, is in her element. She moves like she’s on a battlefield, dodging snowballs and retaliating with almost supernatural accuracy. You’re not sure whether to laugh or be concerned when she starts calling out tactics like, “Flank left!” and “Suppressive fire!”

“Nat, they’re children!” you gasp between laughs, barely dodging another well-aimed projectile.

“They’re ruthless!” she counters, narrowly avoiding a snowball to the face. “We don’t negotiate with snowball terrorists.”

Before you can respond, one of the kids sneaks up behind you and pelts you square in the back. You yelp, spinning around to see a tiny figure bolting back toward their group. Natasha cackles, actually cackles, at your expense.

“Oh, you’re going down,” you mutter, grabbing as much snow as you can carry. You charge toward the kids, who scatter in every direction, shrieking with laughter. Natasha follows close behind, her grin stretching from ear to ear.

The battle rages on for what feels like forever, until finally, you and Natasha call a truce—mostly because you’re both out of breath and can’t feel your fingers anymore. The kids cheer in victory, clearly declaring themselves the winners, and you wave a white scarf in surrender.

As you and Natasha trudge back to the bench, covered in snow and utterly exhausted, you can’t help but laugh. “I can’t believe I just went to war with a bunch of eight-year-olds.”

Natasha collapses onto the bench beside you, brushing snow out of her hair. “Hey, they were formidable opponents. You held your own.”

“I think I got frostbite on my dignity,” you joke, shaking your head.

“You’ll live,” she says, smirking. “Barely.”

You’re about to retort when a new sound catches your attention—a sharp, metallic clunk followed by a muffled curse. Both of you whip around, instinctively alert. A man in a Santa suit has somehow managed to get his foot stuck in a trash can, and he’s hopping around trying to free himself, looking utterly ridiculous.

You and Natasha stare for a moment before bursting into laughter. It’s the kind of uncontrollable, tears-in-your-eyes laughter that leaves you gasping for air.

“I can’t—” Natasha wheezes, clutching her stomach. “This is too much.”

The man finally notices the two of you watching and glares. “What? Haven’t you ever seen Santa in distress?” he snaps, still hopping. That only makes you laugh harder.

“Should we help him?” you manage to ask between giggles.

Natasha shakes her head, still laughing. “I think he’s got it under control.”

As if to prove her wrong, Santa trips over his own feet and falls flat on his back with a loud oof. Your laughter dies instantly, replaced by a mix of horror and concern.

“Oh my God,” you exclaim, rushing over to help. “Are you okay?”

The man groans but waves you off. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just…bad day, you know?”

Natasha joins you, her amusement giving way to a more subdued grin. “Do you need a hand?”

Santa looks up at her, then at you, and sighs. “You’re not gonna let me live this down, are you?”

“Nope,” Natasha says, offering him her hand. “But I will help you up.”

Between the two of you, you manage to get him back on his feet and free his boot from the trash can. He mutters a thanks before trudging off, still grumbling under his breath.

As you return to the bench, you and Natasha exchange a look and burst out laughing again.

“This is officially the weirdest day ever,” you say, shaking your head.

“Just another day in New York,” Natasha replies, her eyes twinkling. “Admit it, though—it’s been fun.”

You smile, brushing a stray snowflake off your coat. “Yeah. It really has.”

As the last of your laughter fades and the chill starts to settle back in, you hear something unusual over the faint hum of city noise: voices raised in song. You and Natasha exchange curious looks, both craning your necks toward the sound.

Down the path, a group of cheerful carolers bundled in scarves and hats stands beneath a lamp post, singing their hearts out. Their harmonized rendition of Jingle Bells drifts through the snowy air, lifting the spirits of passersby. It’s such a quintessentially wholesome scene that you can’t help but smile.

“Should we join them?” you joke, nudging Natasha with your elbow. “Spread some holiday cheer?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You? Singing? I thought you said you didn’t do public humiliation.”

“Funny,” you deadpan, though you’re smiling. “I could totally out-sing you.”

“Oh, that sounds like a challenge,” she says, her smirk widening.

Before you can retort, one of the carolers—an older woman with a kind face and an almost suspicious amount of holiday cheer—spots you both watching. Her eyes light up, and before you can bolt, she’s heading your way, flanked by a few other singers.

“Hello there!” she says, her voice warm and inviting. “You two look like you’re having a wonderful evening. Care to join us? We’re spreading some Christmas joy around the park.”

“Oh, we’re just here to—” you start, but Natasha cuts you off.

“Absolutely,” she says, grinning at your look of betrayal. “We’d love to.”

The woman beams, clapping her hands together. “Wonderful! Come on, we’ve got songbooks for you.”

“Natasha,” you hiss as she pulls you along, “what are you doing? We can’t sing.”

“Speak for yourself,” she replies, her tone light but teasing. “Besides, it’s not about being good. It’s about having fun.”

You groan but let her drag you toward the group. Someone hands you a songbook, and before you know it, you’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Natasha, surrounded by cheerful strangers belting out holiday classics.

The first song is Deck the Halls, and to your surprise, you’re not entirely terrible. Natasha, of course, sings with the kind of confidence that makes you wonder if she’s secretly been trained in covert caroling as part of her spy work. She’s not half bad, though her occasional exaggerated vibrato earns some stifled laughs from the group.

When the carolers move on to Silent Night, the vibe softens, and you can’t help but get swept up in the moment. Snow drifts lazily around you, the lights of the park twinkling like stars. Natasha glances at you mid-verse, and the rare softness in her expression makes your heart swell.

“See?” she whispers when the song ends, her breath misting in the cold air. “Not so bad, huh?”

You roll your eyes but smile. “I guess it’s kind of nice.”

The next song is Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and that’s when things take a turn for the hilarious. The carolers encourage everyone to get a little animated, adding silly gestures and sound effects. Natasha, to your utter shock, fully commits. She even throws in a dramatic point to herself when the lyrics mention “reindeer games,” earning a round of applause from the group.

“Who are you and what have you done with Natasha Romanoff?” you tease between verses.

“What can I say?” she quips, shrugging. “I thrive under pressure.”

By the time the group launches into Frosty the Snowman, you’re both fully immersed. You try to outdo each other with increasingly ridiculous antics, from fake tap-dancing to over-the-top hand gestures. The carolers laugh and cheer you on, and soon even passersby are stopping to watch and join in.

At one point, Natasha grabs your arm and twirls you around like you’re in a ballroom dance. You stumble, nearly knocking over a poor guy carrying his dog, and the entire group erupts into laughter.

“I’m blaming you if I fall,” you warn, breathless from laughing so hard.

“You’ll be fine,” Natasha replies, smirking. “You’re more coordinated than you look.”

The impromptu performance ends with a rousing rendition of We Wish You a Merry Christmas, complete with clapping and stomping. By the time the carolers disperse, you’re grinning so hard your cheeks hurt.

“That was ridiculous,” you say as you and Natasha walk back to the bench, the snow crunching softly beneath your boots.

“Ridiculously fun,” she counters, her grin matching yours. “Admit it, you loved it.”

“Fine,” you concede, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “It was fun. But don’t expect me to make this a regular thing.”

“Noted,” she says, her tone light. Then, after a pause, she adds, “You’ve got a decent voice, though.”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised. “Was that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it,” she replies, smirking. “Now, come on. Let’s find something else to do before you start getting bored again.”

As you walk off together, snow falling gently around you, you realize that this has been one of the best days you’ve had in a long time. And it’s all thanks to Natasha—and her unexpected knack for turning the mundane into something extraordinary.

By the time you and Natasha return to the compound, the warmth of the interior feels like heaven. You both stomp the snow off your boots and shed your damp outer layers near the door, collapsing onto the couch in the main living room like you’ve just run a marathon.

“Remind me to never carol in the snow again,” you groan, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.

“You loved it,” Natasha counters, stretching her legs out on the coffee table. She looks just as tired as you feel, though her smirk suggests she’s still riding the high of the day’s events.

Before you can retort, the sound of footsteps pulls your attention. Steve strides in, looking every bit the curious big brother. His eyebrows shoot up at the sight of you both sprawled out like overworked elves.

“Rough mission?” he jokes, folding his arms.

“Worse,” Natasha deadpans. “We were ambushed by snowball terrorists, then conscripted into a caroling group.”

Steve blinks, his confusion quickly replaced by amusement. “Snowball terrorists? Caroling? Is this some kind of inside joke, or—?”

“Oh, it’s very real,” you cut in, sitting up. “I’ve never seen Nat throw snowballs with such precision. It’s terrifying.”

“She’s a trained assassin,” Steve points out, chuckling. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Before the conversation can continue, Sam and Bucky wander in, followed closely by Wanda and Clint. Within minutes, the living room is buzzing with questions and laughter as you recount your afternoon adventures. Natasha, surprisingly, doesn’t downplay any of it, even going so far as to mimic your disastrous attempt at dancing during Frosty the Snowman.

“I swear, she almost took out a guy and his dog,” Natasha says, barely holding back her laughter.

“Did not!” you protest, though you’re laughing too.

“Okay, okay,” Clint interrupts, grinning. “This sounds like the most ridiculous thing I’ve missed all week. But since you two had your fun, what’s the plan for tonight? Because I’m not letting you hog all the entertainment.”

“We’re exhausted,” you point out, slumping further into the couch. “Nat and I earned a break.”

“Perfect,” Wanda chimes in, her eyes lighting up. “Let’s have a movie night. Something fun and festive.”

“Yes!” Sam agrees, already heading for the kitchen. “I’ll make popcorn. But I’m not watching any boring black-and-white Christmas movies.”

“Don’t knock It’s a Wonderful Life,” Steve says, looking mildly offended.

“Let’s take a vote,” Clint suggests, grabbing the remote. “Majority rules.”

It doesn’t take long for everyone to agree on a lineup of holiday classics, starting with Home Alone and ending with Elf. The team scatters briefly to grab snacks, blankets, and other essentials, and when they return, the living room feels like the coziest place on Earth.

Natasha claims the corner of the couch, gesturing for you to sit next to her. You oblige, pulling a blanket over your legs as Sam passes around bowls of popcorn. Wanda curls up in an armchair, while Clint takes the floor with a pillow he’s clearly stolen from someone’s room. Steve and Bucky settle in on the other couch, and even Bruce makes an appearance, looking relaxed for once.

“Ready?” Clint asks, remote in hand.

“Hit it,” Natasha says, smirking.

As the first movie begins, the room fills with laughter and commentary. Sam and Clint provide running jokes during every slapstick scene, while Steve occasionally tries (and fails) to explain the historical inaccuracies of certain films. Natasha, to your surprise, seems to enjoy herself the most, her rare laughter ringing out at the most unexpected moments.

During a particularly chaotic scene in Home Alone, where Kevin sets up traps for the burglars, Bucky leans over to Steve. “Why does this kid remind me of Nat?” he asks, deadpan.

Steve snorts. “Because she’d do the exact same thing, only with way more efficiency.”

“I heard that,” Natasha calls out, not even looking away from the screen.

As the night goes on, everyone starts to relax completely, the day’s stress melting away. At some point, Wanda conjures a tiny flurry of snowflakes above the coffee table, much to everyone’s delight. Clint insists on using them as makeshift targets, and the ensuing chaos nearly derails the movie marathon.

By the time Elf rolls around, you’re half-asleep, leaning against Natasha’s shoulder. She doesn’t seem to mind, her own posture relaxed as she absentmindedly munches on popcorn.

“This was a good idea,” you mumble, your eyes growing heavy.

Natasha hums in agreement. “Told you. Sometimes the simplest things are the best.”

As the movie’s final credits roll, the group lingers, reluctant to let the night end. Clint and Sam argue about who made the best jokes, while Steve insists on cleaning up despite everyone’s protests. Natasha gently nudges you awake, her expression softer than usual.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” she says quietly. “Time for bed.”

You nod groggily, letting her pull you to your feet. As you say your goodnights and head to your room, you can’t help but smile. The day might’ve started with boredom, but it ended with something much better: laughter, friendship, and a reminder of how lucky you are to have found this family.

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lgbtqreads · 2 months ago

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Fave Five: Queer YA Holiday Romance

Today’s post is sponsored by Kevin Martz in honor of the publication of Christmas at the Ski Resort, an enemies-to-lovers m/m YA Romance to keep you warm this holiday season! Click the graphic below to learn more and purchase! *** Finding My Elf by David Valdes Make My Wish Come True by Alyson Derrick and Rachael Lippincott Flopping in a Winter Wonderland by Jason June How to Excavate a Heart by…

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#Alyson Derrick #Chanukah #Christmas #Christmas at the Ski Resort #David Valdes #Finding My Elf #Flopping in a Winter Wonderland #Hanukkah #Holiday Romance #How to Excavate a Heart #I&039;ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm #Jake Maia Arlow #Jason June #Kevin Martz #Make My Wish Come True #Mariama J. Lockington #Rachael Lippincott

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itachi86 · 27 days ago

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“What’s the plan?” Kris asks. “I need you to gather sticks. And hide them.” Kris looks over both shoulders, scanning the woods. There are literally hundreds—probably thousands—of fallen branches out here away from the groomed paths. “Uh, hide them? All of them?”

-Flopping in a Winter Wonderland

#book things #flopping in a winter wonderland #dialogue #the snow sculpture scene haha #aaron sabotaging his brother #hide all the sticks in the world

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battyaboutbooksreviews · 2 months ago

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🌈 Queer Books Coming Out in November 2024 🌈

🌈 Good morning, my bookish bats! Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Happy reading!

❓What was the last queer book you read?

[ Release dates may have changed. ]

❤️ I Am the Dark That Answers When You Call - Jamison Shea 🧡 Snowed in With You - Reba Bale 💛 Fire Spells Between Friends - Sarah Wallace & S.O. Callahan 💚 Ho Ho Homicidal Maniac - K.A. Merikan 💙 Escape to the Sea - Alex Callan & Angelica Babineaux 💜 She's Always Hungry - Eliza Clark 💛 Phoenix Rising - Emily Hayes 💙 A Flower's Fatal Thorn - Jordan Dugdale 💜 A Sharper, More Lasting Pain - Alex Harvey-Rivas

❤️ The Librarian's Gargoyle - Evelyn Shine 🧡 Dead Girls Don't Dream - Nino Cipri 💛 Of Hoarfrost and Blood - Scarlet Tempest 💚 Judgement - Lucas Delrose 💙 Deadline for Love - Candi Tab 💜 Wake Up, Nat & Darcy - Kate Cochrane ❤️ All the Truth I Can Stand - Mason Stokes 🧡 Celia - Addison James 💛 A Diamond Bright and Broken - Holly Davis 💙 Hexed - Emily McIntire 💜 Hometown Christmas - Laura Conway 🌈 This Christmas - Georgia Beers

❤️ Suite Heart - Jade Winters 🧡 We All Fall - Arden Coutts 💛 Taiwan Travelogue - Yáng Shuāng-zǐ 💚 Pit Stop - L.M. Bennett 💙 The Damaged Hearts Bargain - Sienna Waters 💜 War of Night - Greyson Black & E. Scott Clevenger 🧡 I'll be Boned for Christmas - Katherine McIntyre 💜 All You Want for the Holidays - Quinton Li 🌈 Queer as Folklore - Sacha Coward

❤️ Time and Tide - J.M. Frey 🧡 Ghost of the Heart - Catherine Friend 💛 Flopping in a Winter Wonderland - Jason June 💚 All the Painted Stars - Emma Denny 💙 Currency in Flesh - Heather Nix 💜 I Really Do - Emily K. Hardy ❤️ Something Close to God - Erika del Carmen Ruiz 🧡 The Crack at the Heart of Everything - Fiona Fenn 💛 Undeniable You - Chelsea M. Cameron 💙 The Twice-Sold Soul - Katie Hallahan 💜 Always on My Mind - Kelsey Painter 🌈 Interstellar MegaChef - Lavanya Lakshminarayan

❤️ Don't Break Character - Jules Landry 🧡 Rani Choudhury Must Die - Adiba Jaigirdar 💛 Remnants of Filth: Yuwu - Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou 💚 Sugar, Spice, and Christmas Nice - Anne Hagan 💙 The Wishing Tree - Barbara Winkes 💜 Love on Moonlight Lake - Adriana Sargent ❤️ Mistletoe Motel - Lise Gold 🧡 The Royal They - KJ Sinclair 💛 My So-Called Family - Gia Gordon 💙 Frosted by the Girl Next Door - Aurora Rey & Jaime Clevenger 💜 The Star-Crossed Empire - Maya Darjani 🌈 A Hard Fit - Jennifer Moffatt

❤️ The Sacred Heart Motel - Grace Kwan 🧡 Leap - Simina Popescu 💛 I Dare You - Regena Mercy 💚 Love Lessons - Mary Ellen Capek 💙 Afterglow - Emily Antoinette 💜 In the Back Row With You - Natasha West ❤️ Make Room for Love - Darcy Liao 🧡 Here Goes Nothing - Emma K. Ohland Just for the Holidays - Micah Carver

❤️ Cookies, Candles, and Cute Butts for Christmas - Cameron D. James & Cali Kitsu 🧡 Objects in Mirror - N.W. Downs 💛 Sleigh Bells Ring - Alyson Root 💚 Real Tree / Fake Boyfriend - Ree Thomas 💙 Out of the Storm - Logan Sage Adams 💜 Hungry Heart - Jem Milton ❤️ A Wild and Ruined Song - Ashley Shuttleworth 🧡 Beneath Her Power - Margaux Fox 💛 Thanks for Listening - Molly Horan 🌈 The Lotus Empire - Tasha Suri

❤️ Naughty November - Anthology 🧡 Hearts and Stars - Phoenix Kathryn 💛 Guarding Her Gangster Queen - Persephone Black 💚 The Shadow Spinner - Eric Kao 💙 Black, Queer, and Untold - Jon Key 💜 Hall of Shadows - Mariah Stillbrook ❤️ The Last Hour Between Worlds - Melissa Caruso 🧡 A Crimson Covenant - Aimee Donnellan 💛 Isaac - Curtis Garner 💙 Vineyard Dreams - Carol Wyatt 💜 Kiss of Death - Bryony Rosehurst 🌈 The Many Mistakes of Amy Love - RA Hunter

❤️ Accidentally in Love - Kimberly Cooper Griffin 🧡 Unwrapped - D. Jackson Leigh 💛 Hot Honey Love - Nan Campbell 💚 Havoc for the Holidays - Jay Leigh 💙 London - Patricia Evans 💜 Fatal Foul Play - David S. Pederson ❤️ The Gift of Us - Abigail Taylor 🧡 Upon the Midnight Queer - 'Nathan Burgoine 💛 The Christmas Pic - Rena Sapon-White & Ella Schaefer 💙 Seducing Scylla - Lex Logan 💜 Fated Winds and Promising Seas - Rose Black 🌈 A Surprise For The Holidays - Anna Sparrows

❤️ Immortal Hunger - KL Bone 🧡 Love and Loyalty - Emily Hayes 💛 A Kingdom of Lies - Ben Alderson 💚 Christmas Dreams - Carol Wyatt 💙 Wrecked for the Holidays - Kerry Kilpatrick ❤️ Not for the Faint of Heart - Lex Croucher 🧡 Phoenix Found - T.J. Nichols 💛 Room for Two - Rochelle Wolf 💙 The Long Winter of Miðgarðr - Edale Lan 💜 A Handyman for the Holidays - Valerie Gomez 🌈 Sundown in San Ojuela - M.M. Olivas

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lilacliquors · 1 month ago

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pairing: homelander x reader

word count: 1002

inspo song: walking in a winter wonderland

notes: on the first day of ficmas, lilacliquors gave to me ... snowy homelander for all to see!

it wasn’t often you got some quality time with your lover. being the face of vought, and having taken over so much more of the company was taking its toll on him, and on your relationship. you hated it, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. you just went on with your days as usual, and the days turned weeks, weeks into months, and soon, it was december. and what was more surprising was the snow that was falling onto the city just a few days before christmas. you didn’t think you’d see another potentially white christmas for the rest of your life, but here it was.

you were sitting by your window, a mug of tea in your hands as you watched the snow fall outside. the world was white and peaceful, the blanket of snow bringing that comforting silence with it. it was strange, how quiet everything got when it snowed, but you loved it more than you could really explain. the mug was warm in your hands, a cozy blanket was draped around your shoulders, and you felt calm.

a sudden knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts, and you tilted your head. you weren’t expecting any visitors at this hour, but you got up to go check. you left your mug on the table and set the blanket on the couch, then walked to the door. you peered through the peephole, and you gasped softly. quickly, you unlocked the door and opened it, smiling widely. homelander was on the other side, dressed in civilian clothes.

“john!” you said, throwing your arms around his neck in a hug. you felt him wrap his back around your waist, holding you tight to his body.

“missed you,” he murmured, and you could feel it in his grasp.

“i missed you, too,” you said, pulling back a bit to smile up at him. it was honestly a relief to see him, and he could see it in your eyes. he glanced into your place, then looked back down at you, his lips pulling into a rare smile.

“care to join me for a stroll?” he asked, gesturing back outside to the falling snow. he remembered how much you enjoyed walking in the snow, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t daydreaming about the way snowflakes settled in your hair.

“oh, well, it’s kind of late …” you said, glancing to the clock. it was close to ten at night, and you had work the next day. but on the other hand, snow didn’t fall like this so often anymore, and it would be a shame to waste the quality time you’d been missing for so long.

“on second thought, give me one second.”

you ducked back inside and went to change from your comfy clothes into jeans, a sweater, and boots. you grabbed a scarf and your winter jacket, and you met him back by the door. you tucked your keys and phone into your jacket pocket, then joined him outside. the world was silent as the two of you walked down the sidewalk, bundled up tight. there was no one else around, and only the glow of christmas lights and street lamps lit your way. it was nice, not being bombarded by adoring fans of his as you walked, you had to admit.

in the distance, you could hear church bells ringing, adding to the atmosphere. the snow fell gently, flakes big and small, and you felt homelander reach for your hand. your fingers laced together, and he tucked both of your hands into the pocket of his jacket, just to keep your warm. he didn’t really feel the cold, not after all the years he spent flying at the same height as airplanes. that thought alone made your stomach flop as if you were falling from a great height, but you shook it off and just focused on your walk.

as you continued through your neighborhood, homelander stole glances time after time, watching as the snowflakes settled in your hair, just the way he’d envisioned. you were picturesque, and he’d never seen anything or anyone so beautiful before. he hated being away from you for so long, but his world got more demanding every day. it sucked the life out of him more often than not, but being there with you, in the quiet of the snow, things felt like they would be okay. being there with you was like like a breath of fresh air, and it was what he desperately needed.

“oh, look!” you said, pointing towards the park near your house. a snowman stood in the empty grass, complete with a carrot nose and sticks for arms. you’d heard kids playing outside all afternoon, and you stopped to admire the simplicity of childhood joy. building snowmen, making snow angels, they were classics. if you weren’t wearing jeans, you’d flop down into the grass and make an angel of your own.

“well, isn’t that cute?” he said with a chuckle.

the farther along you walked, the more the snow seemed to fall, and the colder you got. when he looked down at you again, he saw that the tip of your nose was a little pink, and there was a shake to your shoulders.

“want to start heading back?” he asked, and you sighed.

“not really,” you admitted. “I don’t wanna have to say goodbye.”

“you could always ask me to stay a little longer.”

you stopped walking, standing under a streetlamp so you could see his face.

“would you stay a little longer? i’ll make you hot cocoa,” you offered, and a smile crept onto his lips. a real, genuine smile.

“i would love that. come on, let’s get you home and warmed up.”

with your hand in his, you started the walk back to your house, and in the distance, you swore you could hear the church bells again, though it was faint.

maybe things would be okay after all.

#homelander fluff #homelander x reader #homelander ficmas #ficmas 2024 #12 days of ficmas #lilacliquors ficmas 2024

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lv3psh · 4 months ago

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𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 | 𝐩.𝐬𝐡

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗻𝗼𝘄𝘆 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝗦𝗲𝗼𝘂𝗹, 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝘀𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟭𝗸

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗯𝗳!𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽, 𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝘂𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗲 (𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆) 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴

𝗮/𝗻: 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁 𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆

the first snow of the season had arrived in Seoul, blanketing the city in a serene layer of white. the gentle light of dawn filtered through the cream-coloured curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. you stirred awake, feeling the comforting weight of sunghoon's arm draped over you. his steady breathing and the warmth of his body made the morning feel serene and perfect.

you turned your head slightly to see sunghoon still asleep, a peaceful smile on his face. the first snow of the season was falling outside, and you could see the flakes drifting past the window. it was as if the world had been dusted with a layer of magic.

quietly, you slipped out of bed and wrapped yourself in a cozy robe. you tiptoed to the window and pulled back the curtains, revealing a picturesque scene. the city streets were blanketed in white, and the rooftops looked like something out of a fairytale.

just then, you heard sunghoon stir behind you. he propped himself up on one elbow before standing up and heading over to you, blinking sleepily. “morning baby,” he said as he enveloped you in his arms, wrapping you in a back hug. his voice a soft murmur as his eyes followed your gaze to the window, and a bright smile spread across his face. “looks like we’re in for a perfect snow day.”

you turned to him, feeling your heart flutter at the sight of his sleepy smile. “it’s beautiful. did you have something in mind for today?”

sunghoon’s eyes twinkled with excitement as he admired you from below. “how about we make the most of it? i thought we could head out and enjoy the snow. i even brought my camera to capture and film all the fun.” you nodded enthusiastically, "that sounds perfect hoonie."

after a quick breakfast together — some warm toast and fresh fruit — you both bundled up in your winter gear. sunghoon put on his favorite coat and wrapped a scarf around his neck, and you admired how he looked so effortlessly stylish even in the cold.

with a playful grin, sunghoon grabbed his camera and led you outside. the snow had thickened overnight, and each step you took created a satisfying crunch. he started snapping pictures of the snowy landscape and of you, as you admired the winter wonderland around you.

“baby, let’s start with some snow angels!” he suggested. you both headed to a nearby open field, and with a burst of energy, flopped down into the soft snow. the coolness of the snow against your skin was refreshing and as you moved your arms and legs to make angels, you could hear sunghoon laughing behind his camera.

his laughter was infectious, and you found yourself giggling as he showed you the photos he’d taken — some with you looking completely engrossed in making snow angels and others with him trying to create his own, looking hilariously serious.

soon enough, a snowball fight began. sunghoon ducked behind a snowbank, grinning mischievously as he readied his first snowball. you tried to defend yourself, but his playful aim was too good. snowballs flew through the air and the two of you ended up in a flurry of snow and laughter.

after a while, both of you were breathless and laughing hard. “how about we warm up?” sunghoon suggested, his cheeks flushed from the cold and excitement.

you agreed and he led you to a nearby café that looked like a cozy haven. the café was warm and inviting, with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filling the air. you both settled into a corner booth, still chuckling from the snowball fight.

as you sipped your hot cocoa and sunghoon enjoyed his coffee, he pulled out his camera to show you the photos from earlier. each picture and videos were a snapshot of the day’s joy — snowflakes catching in your hair, candid laughter, and playful moments.

“these are the cutest hoon,” you said, your eyes lighting up as you looked through the photos. “you’ve captured everything so perfectly."

sunghoon’s smile was soft and sincere. “i wanted to make sure we had something to remember this day by. it’s been really special.”

after you finished your drinks, you both decided to take a leisurely walk along the river. the snow was still falling gently, and the riverbanks looked serene and untouched. sunghoon took more photos as you strolled hand in hand, capturing the tranquility of the snowy scene and the warmth of your moments together.

when you reached a quaint bridge overlooking the river, sunghoon paused and took a photo of the two of you with the snowy landscape as the backdrop. he looked at you with a tender expression. “today has been amazing. I’m so glad we got to share it together.”

you leaned in closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment and smiled at him. “i couldn’t agree more. this has been one of the best days ever.”

as the sun began to set and the snowlight faded to twilight, sunghoon walked you back to your home. outside, you both lingered, not wanting to let the day end. he showed you one last photo — a beautiful shot of the two of you with snowflakes falling gently around you, looking truly happy. “this is my favorite,” he said softly. “it’s like a perfect memory of today.”

you took his hand and squeezed it gently, feeling a rush of affection. “thank you for making today so special hoon. i'll cherish these memories forever.”

sunghoon smiled warmly and pulled you into a gentle hug. he then leaned in, his eyes locking with yours. “i’m really glad we got to spend today together."

before you could respond, sunghoon’s lips brushed against yours in a tender kiss. the moment felt timeless, surrounded by the gentle snowfall and the soft glow of the streetlights. you kissed him back, feeling the warmth and love between you. as you finally pulled away, sunghoon rested his forehead against yours. “see you soon, okay?”

“definitely,” you replied, your heart full. with one last, heartfelt smile, sunghoon walked away, his footsteps crunching softly in the snow. you watched him go, feeling that this snowy day had been truly magical. the snowflakes continued to fall, each one a reminder of the beautiful moments you’d shared together.

#lv3psh #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader

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