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nouearth · 1 year ago

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once upon an eggnog.

clark kent x male reader.

summary: there's nothing better than physical touch to sober reader up after a christmas party.

wc: 1.1k. warnings: fluff, holiday!season, drunk!reader, maws!clark, worried!clark, co-worker!au, reader doesn't know clark is superman, non-descriptive mention of reader throwing up, clark has very warm hands and is a simp because he wants to make reader happy.

The groan you let out was feeble. Your shadow trailed behind your sluggish steps as you foraged through neighboring street lights, gravel and pavement, for a stake of its emanating warmth.

“Hey—“ A voice called out from behind you, the blanket of snowflakes and cold dulling the panic in the man’s voice. You rested your body against the lamppost, finding the warmth to be exemplary over your frosted cheeks, but unbearable for your insides.

You let out a deep sigh. The longer you stood under the light, sweat droplets began to frame your face, followed by an overwhelming urge to cleanse your body from the inside out.

“I don’t feel…” You slurred in your speech, holding your stomach as you craned over until you slid onto your bottom, head exposed to the light as you faced the comforting snow.

“Wait up!” He called out to you several more times in midst of his trudge, his panting audibly close.

You began grumbling incoherent sounds in response as you clumsily whipped off your coat. Your mind was frosted like the windows on the cars lined down the street as you drew in the cold air with a greed to pacify the strange feeling in your stomach.

“(M/N), keep that on!”

“What are you…?! My mom—“ The constant shifting and turning of your body, all in an attempt to strip yourself of the restrictive wool of your vest and reindeer sweater, churned the bottom of your stomach until it was mush.

Absolute.

Mush.

It was funny how the human body worked because even in your drunken state, your natural instinct to find the nearest public trash can surfed through the flood of eggnog and booze, and you immediately emptied the toxins out of your body with several strong hurls.

“Geez, I told you not to run off…” A messenger bag and a familiar coat dropped near your foot, and the man did not spare a single second to come to your aid. “And also not to drink that much...” He rubbed your back in slow and soothing circles, then in vertical swipes as you coughed out the remaining poison. The strong bass pulsating into his palm as a special way of saying ‘thank you.’

“Clark, it was just a sip—“

“You had six cups….” Clark confessed and your immediate frown was telling in whether you were an innocent bystander, or the reason why the office was running low on drinks. Rummaging through his pockets, he then offered a handful of crumbled napkins that he took from the party.

“The last two didn’t count.” You slurred again, slowly regaining your strength as you stabilized yourself over the rim of the garbage can before wiping your mouth with the napkin. “I needed a drink with my food—“

“You barely touched your plate—“ He cut himself off as soon as he caught you staring at him, the eggnog stupefying you into a dazed state in which crickets and holiday festivities replaced coherent thoughts.

“We gotta get you home. It’s freezing.” He said, and you swayed in place as if you were a palm tree basking in the summer breeze. Or maybe like a giant marshmallow floating yet sinking in the warmth of hot cocoa.

Clark tried his best to fight the smile that was creeping upon him as he tidied your outerwear for the fourth time tonight, shielding you from the dusting of cold when he layered you with your coat.

His jaw clenched while he chewed back an adoration for your nearly frost-bitten visage, stalling the fixing of your reindeer headband to be closer to you a little while longer.

Though he couldn’t tell whether the deep flush of your skin was caused by the weather or the booze, it didn’t matter in the end because the winter of your skin magnetized a bravery in Clark that stilled you in place. Warmth sprouted over your cheeks like an approaching spring, and you closed your eyes peacefully.

Clark had put his bare hands over your cheeks, cupping them like a delicate bowl of snowflakes until they melted into his skin, until all he could feel was you and your equally delicate skin.

“Better?” Hesitantly, his thumbs followed the trail of your dark circles. It was something you’d always complain about yet ironically, your evident lack of sleep ranked high on his ‘favorite things about you’ list.

“Mhm. If only your hands were a little warmer.” You sighed again, the snowing melting into your hair and skin battling Clark’s warmth.

“Hm…” Clark held your cheeks closer, deepening his palms into you, and he closed his eyes, silently channeling his energy into his affectionate hold over you.

Maybe it was the booze playing tricks on you, or perhaps it was your body shutting down for the night, but you physically felt his hands heat up, warmer than his previous offer. Nonetheless, you gave him a nod of approval, and despite drowsiness approaching, your eyes opened bright to thank him with a smile.

“I’m guessing that’s why you don’t wear gloves?”

“Uh…” Clark laughed, an anxiousness you could point out, but you couldn’t exactly trust your judgement in your current state. “I guess you could say that’s why.”

“Well,” You said before a yawn slurred your speech even more, feeling the muscles in your body losing its strength by the second. “Remind me when you’re nearby so I can use you as a…”

“As a..?” There was a slight push to his palms, a strange sudden heaviness before Clark realized you were gradually leaning forward. “(M/N)—“

Gravity pulled your eyelids down, then your body forward, a striking contrast to the graceful dance of snow that dusted the ground. “As…”

And you completely slumped into Clark’s arms. Thankfully, his reflexes were quick to catch you before you could even feel the slightest breeze.

“Let’s get you home…” He smile mirrored the gentle frame of your body as you sunk into him.

And he held you close, accompanying your deep slumber with a warmth that surrounded and protected your body like a string of Christmas lights weaved through pine needles and tree branches.

A warmth that campaigned against the icier gale, the ego of a higher altitude, during Clark’s flight to take you back home.

And a warmth that was victorious when Clark tucked you into bed, a measly makeshift of comfort and peace you thought during your stir of sleep.

Because Clark’s warmth was a newfound establishment from this night onwards.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#clark kent x reader #clark kent x male reader #clark kent x you #clark kent fanfic #clark kent x y/n #nou.fics

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homelanderbutbig · 22 days ago

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Watching The Snowflakes Fall (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1168 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

You and Homelander go walking in a winter wonderland.

In the midst of Christmas time, Vought Tower has been buzzing with activity. This is their most profitable time of year, and Homelander might as well be Santa Claus with how the holiday seems to centre around him. He's been all around the city attending Vought functions, and you're tailing behind him as his personal assistant doing your best to keep his schedule flowing smoothly. You've both been so busy that you and him have barely had a single moment to spend together as Christmas approaches.

But this was a rare night; you finished your shift earlier than him, and took some time to formulate a little plan for the two of you.

You're waiting on a bench in the park, bundled up with your thickest winter coat, mittens and toque. The sky is pitch black, and the stars are obscured by the clouds covering the ground with pure white snow. Where you are, the only source of brightness is coming from the streetlights marking the walkway. There isn't another soul in sight, and no sounds other than the slightest gust of wind.

It's perfect.

As expected, you don't have to wait by yourself for very long. You see Homelander slowly flying down to land in front of your bench. After his work day finally ended and he noticed you weren't in the Tower, he swiftly scoured the city trying to pinpoint your location.

"You didn't tell me you were leaving," he remarks bluntly, not exactly impressed at your antics. You know how anxious he gets when he can't find you.

"I know, and I'm sorry," you say, standing up to walk over to him. "But I thought maybe we could go for a little midnight stroll together? We haven't had much time to ourselves lately, and it's so nice out."

"…Now?" he questions you, his brows furrowed in absolute befuddlement. He knows you don't have as strong of a tolerance to cold as he does, why would you want to spend time out in this weather?

"Come on! It'll be fun," you coax him, reaching up to hold his hand. Of course he curls his long fingers into yours the second you touch him, engulfing your tiny hand in his expansive palm. It's been at least 24 hours since he last held your hand, practically forever for him. And he's powerless to fight against his desire for your affection, simply sighing heavily through his nose.

You can't help but smile at how quick he is to agree to whatever you have planned. You could ask him to do literally anything, and by god he'd do it just as long as you cuddle him afterwards.

You start walking down the pathway, and Homelander follows along with your lead. Your eyes are focused on the snowflakes falling overhead, dancing through the air and coating the scenery in a blanket of white. Being cooped up in the Tower all day doesn't allow you to take in this view, and peering up at Homelander makes you realize he doesn't get to either. His face is just as transfixed as yours is, the stress of his day forgotten by the near picturesque postcard surrounding the both of you.

Although you've only been out walking for a few minutes, it's already beginning to become too cold for you to handle. The frigid breeze is penetrating you through to your bones, almost mocking you as the dense fog escapes your lungs with each breath.

The way you attempt to bury your fingers further into Homelander's hand is enough for him to glance down at you. He very easily discerns your discomfort, even without his super senses.

"We should head back," he suggests, stopping in place. You're powerless to keep moving with his ironclad grip on your hand.

"N-n-no, I-I'm fine…" you eventually stammer, your teeth chattering up a storm.

"You're too cold," he counters.

"B-but I-I-I wanna s-stay out longer…" you mumble, refusing to give in to his concern as you squeeze his hand tighter. You wanted this night to be something special, something to remember. And you don't want it to end just yet, even though you can't feel your extremities anymore.

He would prefer you not be stubborn and heed his advice, at least that way you could warm up in his penthouse. However, you've always told him how special winter is for you, laughing when he disagrees. To him, it's just cold, wet, and busy. You've shared your treasured memories of this season, how calming it is watching the snowflakes fall from outside your window. And now, he finally understands what you mean. He doesn't want it to end yet either.

Instead of flying back, he takes a moment to think of a proper solution.

Gently, Homelander bends down to wrap his hands around your waist, lifting you up to his chest. His big arms are snuggly encompassing your body, with one hand splayed across your back and the other behind your head. After he makes sure you're comfortable, he continues walking.

Thankfully it doesn't take long for his body heat to warm you up, one of the benefits of his size allowing him to so easily envelop your entire form. His suit is soft from its padding, it's like being swaddled by your own personal blanket. While the rhythmic crunching of the snow under his feet is strangely relaxing, you can't see the sights with how he's holding you so close to his chest.

Once he feels you fidgeting in his arms, and eases his grip so you can pull back enough to look at him.

At least with your jacket hood, your head is protected from the snow. Homelander's head on the other hand is dusted in snowflakes, forming a little mound on his slicked back hair.

"What?" he asks confused as you giggle at him.

"You have a snowflake on your nose," you grin, kissing him on the tip of his nose to catch the one stray snowflake in your lips. Such a small act of love is enough to make him chuckle, leaving you jostling in his arms. He decides to make sure you're completely warm as he leans in for a proper kiss, letting you drown in his warmth as you both melt into each other.

"Home now?" he queries after he breaks from your kiss. His blue eyes are the perfect compliment to the yellow streetlights illuminating the two of you, sparkling just as brightly too.

"Maybe… just a little longer?" you express, raising your hand to wipe away the wet snowflakes staining his cheeks. It's funny how he seems to be even more beautiful to you right now, wearing a layer of snow.

Resting your head in the crook of his neck, you keep your eyes on the scenery as Homelander continues his stroll. If you let yourself, you swear you could fall asleep in this position. Tonight was as perfect as you thought it would be.

And maybe, you'll do it again tomorrow.

#the boys #the boys tv #homelander #homelander x reader #g/t #size difference #my writing #christmas is over but i'm a slow writer lol

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sterekeverlasting · 1 year ago

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then now and always

fic by @raisesomehale, featuring art by @1jet2unknown for the Sterek Everlasting Winter Edition

You can read the magazine online here and can download the PDF file to read here.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ten Years Later, POV Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Leaves Beacon Hills, Ex FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Alpha Derek Hale, mountain man Derek Hale, Full Shift Werewolf Derek Hale, Years Without Seeing Each Other, Derek has a ranchand a dog, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Second Chances, Lack of Communication, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Winter, Christmas, holiday fic, Food is a love language, non-graphic description of animal birth, First Kiss, Getting Together

Summary:

Stiles is stuck. Stiles is stuck in the fucking snow in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere at night with a broken down car three days before Christmas, and the nearest tow truck company—over fifty miles away—doesn’t open until morning.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #derek x stiles #stiles x derek #stiles/derek #derek/stiles #sterek is eternal #eternalsterek #sterekeverlasting

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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year ago

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Merry Christmas Mishaps

Summary: Christmas looked a little different this year, and Javy knew you were having a hard time adjusting to it. You were used to the lights and the hustle and - God help him, the snow - that came with where you had called home for so long. You had given all that up to move to California to be with him, and he decided that if he couldn’t get you back on the east coast for the holiday, maybe he could improvise and start making new traditions here together, with a few surprises along the way.

Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Warm fuzzy Hallmark feelings. Non-descriptive smut that’s more alluded to but still there.

Notes: Back on my Javy Needs More Love agenda, but make it the ✨Holiday Edition✨

Written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt "I have a secret".

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Christmas looked a little different this year, and Javy knew you were having a hard time adjusting to it.

When you had fallen in love with him, agreeing to move to San Diego to be with him since he couldn’t exactly relocate for you (he would have, in a heartbeat), you had done so with little to no hesitation. Being together was worth getting used to a new time zone and weather patterns. Last year, he had accompanied you home for the holidays, being introduced to every aunt and uncle and cousin twice removed as the boyfriend who had whisked you away to sunny California, experiencing every tradition and festive tourist trap he could have imagined, his cheeks cold and his toes numb, but with a giant smile on his face because of how happy you were.

This year, though, he had drawn the short straw amongst his squad and would be working half a day on the 23rd and then the day after Christmas, too. And you, in all of your beauty and grace and complete and utter stubbornness, had refused to entertain the idea of going home by yourself.

“For God’s sake, Javy. You think I’d let you spend Christmas alone?”

You had sounded truly scandalized at the suggestion, and neither of you had talked about it since.

But he knew.

You were as cheerful as ever on the outside, even more so, really, overcompensating with the winter wonderland that your shared condo had turned into. Hardly a surface wasn’t covered in something festive since your negotiated date of the 15th of November (you were of the belief that Christmas started on November 1st, where he was a strict after Thanksgiving guy). Christmas playlists were on a constant rotation, and he’d watched more Hallmark movies in the last few weeks than he was willing to admit. You were doing everything right to make it seem like you were in the holiday spirit, but he could see the way the light in your eye dimmed just the slightest bit when you didn’t realize he was looking, and how sometimes your smile was just the tiniest bit forced.

He knew that you missed the familiarity of home and the warmth of family and tradition. He had tried to get your parents out here instead, but it hadn’t worked out like he had hoped. It really would just be the two of you for Christmas. You had assured him that that was all you needed, and deep down, he knew you were telling the truth. Still, he wished he could do something more to make it feel like what you were used to.

It was a week before the holiday when the idea came to him. You were watching yet another Hallmark movie, set in a snowy mountain town that was fighting to keep a beloved bakery alive (or maybe it was a toy shop, the plot lines were all starting to blend together for him), and you made an off hand comment about the likelihood of ever seeing snow while living in California. It was nearly two AM as you both slept in bed under a green and red duvet when his eyes popped open and he shot up to grab his laptop, suddenly knowing exactly what he could do.

Javy spent the next several days feverishly planning, making calls and sending emails in between hops and classes. He felt like a kid trying to keep the ultimate Christmas present a surprise, giddy with excitement. It was a gamble, the forecast changing almost by the hour, but he was confident it would be worth it.

Coming home from work at lunch time on the 23rd, he was practically vibrating with anticipation. You were in the kitchen transferring cookies into a tin from a baking sheet when he walked through the door, the condo smelling like chocolate and sugar. Michael Buble played in the background, and he couldn’t help but watch you for a moment before he announced his presence.

“Hey baby,” he said. You spun to face him, and he could see the touch of melancholy in your eyes.

“Hey you.”

He crossed the room to wrap his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. You pressed your face into the crook of his neck and he could feel the way your body relaxed against his. He held you tighter. “Merry Christmas Eve Eve,” he whispered into your hair, and you giggled as you pulled away to look at him, your smile warm and sincere. He felt a flutter that he was able to do that.

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve,” you returned, raising on your toes to kiss him. He could taste your peppermint chapstick on your lips.

“I have something for you,” he said, and your eyebrow raised in question. He shot you a wink and squeezed your hips before he stepped away. He practically jogged over to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, grabbing one of the boxes he had placed there earlier this week and hurrying back to you. He held it out to you with a dramatic bow, causing another laugh to escape from between your pretty lips. “For you, m’lady.”

“You’re such a dork,” you said, but there was fondness laced through your voice, and Javy just smiled. You took the box from him, running your finger over the shimmering gold wrapping paper. You looked at the gift wistfully before looking back at him. “It’s not Christmas yet.”

“An early gift. Come on, open it. For me?”

You rolled your eyes at his exaggerated puppy dog expression that he played up just for you. With a sigh that quickly turned into an excited grin, you tore into the paper. He laughed as you did, knowing that no matter how hard you tried to hide it, you loved presents.

He could tell you were confused when you pulled out the soft, fluffy scarf, followed by the matching beanie, both in a dark forest green that he knew you favored.

“These are so nice, baby. I love them. But it’s 70 degrees outside right now?”

Javy nodded, not bothering to fight the smile that was taking over his face. “Yeah, but it’s colder up in the mountains. So you might need to bundle up.”

You looked up at him in shock, your eyes widening with each passing second. “What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I rented us a cabin up in Big Bear. It’s just for a couple of days, but I thought maybe we could get away just the two of us. Maybe get some snow and have a white Christmas after all, if the weather pulls through. But at least a colder one, just like you like.”

You were staring at him with a mix of disbelief and pure joy, and Javy knew he had made the right decision in surprising you. He mentally captured the look on your face right now, wanting to keep it as a memory forever.

“Javy…”

It wasn’t often that you were speechless, and he couldn’t help the laugh he let out as he asked, “Are you surprised?”

Instead of answering, you threw your arms around him, hugging him tight. You wrapped your legs around him when he lifted you off your feet and pulled back just far enough to kiss him soundly.

“This is the best gift ever,” you whispered against his lips. “I love you.”

You were on the road within the next two hours, the presents from under your tree all packed up in the car as well as the cookies you had just freshly baked. It was almost a three hour drive and by the time he was winding his truck up the mountain side, the sun was setting. You were leaning as far as you could against the window, eyes glued on the outdoor landscape. A thin sheen of snow lined the ground, and you could see the faint shine of Christmas lights from tucked away houses.

Javy reached over to take your hand, lacing your fingers together. You turned to him smiling, and he felt his heart swell. He knew that this was exactly what you needed.

He helped you out of the car once he parked in the small driveway, and he could see the awe written all over your face. The cabin was wooden and cozy, the outside completely decked out in twinkling lights. He could see through the windows that the inside had lights on, too, and he knew the request he had put in with the rental company to have all the Christmas lights up and turned on at the time of arrival had been fulfilled.

“Oh, baby,” you breathed, spinning in a slow circle once you walked through the front door. The cabin itself was small, a studio set up where every room flowed together with ease and little separation, but it was decorated just as extravagantly as the condo, only moreso, somehow, with the mountain environment and cabin feel adding a deeper element of festivity.

“This is beautiful,” you said softly. Javy dropped the bags by the door and closed the small distance between you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

"I'm glad you like it," he said, his breath warm against your ear. "I know Christmas looks a little different this year. So I wanted to make it special for you."

You turned in his arms to look at him, eyes shining with tears. “You make everything special,” you told him, and he could hear the conviction in your voice that made it so he couldn’t help but believe you. "Thank you," you whispered. "This means everything to me." You kissed him, and Javy held you close, his hand stroking your back in a soothing rhythm.

You kept things simple that night, making an easy dinner and then cuddling up on the small couch in front of the fireplace to watch a movie. He insisted on something not Hallmark, and you didn’t fight him at all, laughing as you threw on The Santa Clause instead.

The next day, the two of you went all out on modified versions of your family’s Christmas traditions. You made an absolute feast for breakfast, full of way too many carbs and way too much sugar that you both ate happily and without a care in the world. You baked even more cookies, and Javy discovered that he had quite the talent for decorating them. The two of you laughed and teased each other as you both tried to outdo each other’s designs, and he kissed your pout away when you eventually conceded defeat.

“You’re too perfect. It’s actually ridiculous.”

You went for a walk in the early afternoon, bundled up in coats you never got use out of in San Diego. You wore the scarf and hat that he got for you and kept your hand in his the entire way. When you got back to the cabin, noses and fingers cold, you started cooking a meal that was way too much for two people. Normally that was reserved for Christmas day, but you’d have to head back home tomorrow night so you were modifying everything just the slightest bit to accommodate while still making it a trip to remember.

You sipped sweet red wine together after dinner, trading stories about holidays as kids, when you gasped loudly, jumping up from the couch. He looked at you in concern as you practically sprinted to the window.

“Baby, what-”

“Javy, it’s snowing!”

The wonder in your voice was palpable. He got up and joined you at the window, watching the snowflakes fall gently to the ground in the dark, reflecting off of the array of outdoor lights. It was a beautiful sight, truly.

“Looks like we’ll have a white Christmas after all,” he said, his voice low and husky as he wrapped his arms around you. You leaned into him, smiling contentedly. You just stood and watched for a few minutes before he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Want to go outside?”

You turned to face him, the excitement in your eyes evident. “Yes!” you exclaimed, already grabbing your coat and shoes. Javy chuckled at your enthusiasm, but really, he was just as excited as you were.

The air was crisp and cold, but you hardly seemed to notice as you twirled around in the falling snow. He just watched you for a moment, content with the spectacle he was witnessing. You slipped just the slightest bit on your next spin, and Javy caught you, holding you steady as you started to giggle uncontrollably. He couldn’t help but smile at your joy, feeling his own heart warm at the sight.

“Careful,” he playfully admonished. You just sighed happily as you settled against him.

“Never thought I’d get a white Christmas in California,” you whispered.

Javy’s pulse picked up as he thought about one of the gifts he had for you, suddenly desperate to give it to you. He swallowed thickly as he kissed your cold cheek. “Let’s head back in.”

You showered together, the hot water helping you regain some of the warmth you had lost from your unexpected snow excursion. You poured glasses of wine as he set some cookies on a plate for you to share, and the two of you settled in front of the Christmas tree. You eyed the gifts eagerly; it was nearing midnight now, and neither of you wanted to wait until morning.

You took turns opening the handful of gifts you got each other, swapping stories and reasonings behind them as you did. Plenty of laughs and kisses were exchanged as you went, and before he knew it, you were both surrounded by wrapping and tissue paper.

Looking at you now, basked in the tree lights and the glow of the lit candles scattered throughout the room, the fireplace crackling in the corner, he knew there wouldn't be a better time than right now. He cleared his throat gently, drawing your attention from the custom puzzle he had made for you of one of your favorite pictures.

“I have one more gift for you,” he murmured, and his heart started racing wildly in his chest as he reached behind the tree, lifting the tree skirt to grab the small box he had hid underneath it. It was beautifully wrapped, adorned with a silky green ribbon and a small gold bell. Your eyes widened as you looked from the box to his eyes, and he could see the question written all over your face. His heart leaped in his chest as you took it from him, your fingers brushing his before smoothing over the elegant paper, different from what the rest of your gifts had been wrapped in.

“Javy,” you breathed. “Is this…?”

“Open it,” he urged, a small smile playing on his lips. You slowly undid the ribbon, setting it aside and then gently running your finger beneath the tape to get the paper off, showing a delicacy you hadn’t before.

You gasped when the velvet black box was revealed, and when you met his eyes again, there were tears lining yours.

“Go ahead, open it,” he encouraged, his eyes dancing with anticipation.

You bit your lip through the smile he could see appearing, staring at him for a long moment, before you finally looked back down. With a deep, shaky breath you snapped the box open. He held his breath as he waited for your reaction, only for his stomach to drop when, instead of the radiant smile and excitement he was so confident you would have, your eyebrows furrowed together, a frown contorting your features. You looked not only confused, but heartbroken.

“I don’t understand.”

“What?” he asked, heart racing for an entirely different reason now. “What do you mean?”

Without saying anything, you turned the open box to face him. Javy felt horror course through him when he looked down to see that the ring box, which was supposed to be housing a shiny, sparkling engagement ring that he just knew you would be in love with, was completely empty. And instead of the name of the jewelry store staring back at him on the silk lining of the inside lid, the LSU logo from the box that at one point held his class ring that was on his hand was staring back at him instead. It took his mind a moment to really register the implications of that, and the groan he let out was long and drawn out.

“Oh my God,” he said as he smacked his forehead, “I’m an idiot.”

You still looked confused, but maybe a little less heartbroken as you cleared your throat. “Huh?”

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he pleaded, and he scrambled to grab your hands, sliding himself closer to you on the floor. He knocked the offensive empty box to the ground.

“I kept your ring it in my sock drawer-”

“Real original.”

“Thank you, I know,” he responded without missing a beat, “But I also keep my class ring box in there, and I must have grabbed the wrong one when you were in the shower before we left yesterday. I had looked at the ring so many times that I swore the hinges on the damn box were gonna snap so I made myself keep it closed and oh my god-”

You cut him off with a laugh, shaking your head and wiping at the tears in your eyes. “Javy, it’s okay,” you said.

But it wasn’t, not to him at least. He had planned this whole getaway so meticulously and the proposal had been something he had been thinking about for so long. He had bought your ring months ago, and had been so excited to give it to you.

“No,” he shook his head, “it’s not okay. This was supposed to be perfect, and I ruined it. I’m so sorry,” he apologized again.

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you, and he couldn’t help but lean into your touch. “It’s not ruined,” you said firmly. “I mean, yeah, this wasn’t exactly how you planned it, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you or the fact that I want to be with you forever.”

“I just wanted it to be special,” he muttered, still feeling embarrassed. He imagined he would for a good long while.

You smiled at him, that sweet tug of your lips that has damn near brought him to his knees since the very beginning. You rubbed your thumb across his cheek, giggling softly. You leaned in to press a kiss to his lips.

“I don’t care about the ring, Javy. I care about you. And this is perfect.”

He looked at you, tears stinging his eyes. A grin slowly spread on his face as he processed your words. “Are you saying yes?” he asked, his voice tinged with excitement.

You grinned right back at him, shrugging playfully. “Are you asking?”

Javy couldn't contain the emotion that coursed through him. The empty ring box was forgotten as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Laughter bubbled up between you. "Yes! Yes, I'm asking!"

Your eyes sparkled when you pulled away, and you looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised. It took him a second through the excitement to realize why, and he felt his face heat with embarrassment again. "Oh! Right. Right. Baby, I love you. And I had a whole speech planned, but it doesn't feel like it matters anymore. All that matters is me and you, yeah?" You nodded, tears in your eyes, and Javy felt as calm as he had all night just from the look you were giving him. "Marry me?"

You kissed him again, your lips molding perfectly against his. He had to rank it as one of the best kisses the two of you had ever shared together. “Yes,” you breathed, your noses brushing together as you nodded fervently. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

You squealed at the sudden movement as he scooped you up into his arms as he stood. He spun you around once, twice, your shared laughter filling the small, warm space. Your arms wrapped tight around his neck as he held you, trusting him not to drop you. He knew the smile on his face must have been ridiculous - his cheeks were starting to ache by the constant pull.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. He kissed you again, and you returned it eagerly. You moaned into his mouth as he carried you the few steps to the bed, laying you down gently before climbing on top of you.

He made love to you slowly, his hands roaming every inch of your body, caressing and exploring with a tenderness that matched what he was feeling. He savored every breath and every touch. There was no rush as you moved together. The tree lights glowed and the fireplace crackled, and it was like just the two of you existed, tucked away from the rest of the world. You clutched at him as he expertly brought you to the edge.

You lay cuddled up with him afterward, your head on his chest as his stayed wrapped around you, holding you close.

The room was filled with a comforting silence, broken only by the sound of your steady breathing and the crackling of logs in the fireplace. Javy traced lazy patterns on the bare skin of your back, his touch gentle and loving. The Christmas tree glowed in the corner, snow was still slowly falling outside, and a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table told him it was after midnight at that point. He pressed a kiss to your head, sighing in content.

"Merry Christmas, Sweetheart."

-----------

Main Masterlist

Notes: This was incredibly self indulgent. I actually love him so much, it's unhealthy. Hope you enjoyed this one!

Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all their help as usual, and to Mak for the absolutely stunning banner.

#alli writes #winterromcomchallenge #javy machado x reader #javy machado #javy machado x you #javy machado imagine #javy coyote machado #javy machado fic #javy machado smut #javy machado fluff #javy machado appreciation #javy coyote machado x you #coyote x you #coyote x reader #javy coyote machado x reader #tgm fic #top gun fanfiction

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pearlahearts · 1 year ago

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neuvillette ⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

pairing | neuvillette/fem!reader

warnings | fluff, pregnancy, labor (non-descriptive), a baby 🥹, boy dad!! neuvilette, lowercase intended

words | 878

notes | pretty sure my heart and uterus exploded while writing this. i now have baby fever 😔

synopsis | neuvillette has his first son and fontaine has its first snow of the winter season

if someone told you five years ago that you would be married to a man like neuvillette and pregnant with his son, you’d laugh at them and call them crazy. but here you are, walking around fontaine, gift shopping for the upcoming winter holiday and unable to find anything for your perfect husband.

you had already gotten plenty of gifts for other members of your family and even your unborn son, but nothing had caught your eye for neuvillette yet. you wanted your gift for him to be perfect. something memorable. something charming, just like him. but you were ready to give up your search for the day.

you’d been shopping since the morning, and now it's almost the evening, and you really just want to go home, so you can put your swollen feet up. so, you trudged home, disappointed that you could find nothing for your husband.

but, an unfamiliar antique shop catches your eye, and that's when you see it. a beautiful gold pocket watch resting on a stand in the window of the store.

your face was almost pressed to the glass as you tried to get a better look. you could see an intricate swirling design with beautiful blue crystals dancing around the edge of the watch, but what caught your attention the most was the fact that the pocket watch could hold a photo in the case. it was absolutely perfect. without even thinking about the price, you opened up your purse to grab your pouch of mora and began to walk to the entrance of the shop.

but before you reach the door, an unfamiliar sharp pain strikes your lower abdomen causing you to drop your pouch onto the ground. the sound and mess of mora cause people to look at you with concern as you grip your belly.

you knew that you were due soon, but you had thought your little boy would not be born for at least another week or so. but you knew you were wrong when you felt the tell-tale trickle of liquid run down your leg from there the rest was a blur.

you had been rushed to your home with neuvillette waiting for you and the doctor had been called. you had felt so unprepared for the early arrival of your son, but as neuvillette firmly held your hand while you lay in the birthing bed, you knew that everything was going to be fine

after almost 9 hours of labor, you finally hear your son’s cries as he enters the world. your eyes well up with tears as you revel in the sound of your baby boy's strong cries. you can feel neuvillette’s hand tighten around yours as he watches the midwife and nurses clean your baby up.

in a matter of minutes, he was placed in your arms and the room was cleared out, giving your small family privacy. neuvillette is now sitting on the bed, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you two look at your curious baby boy. his big blue eyes looking at his parents as you both gaze back at him in awe.

“i can’t believe he’s here now. here for me to hold and love him,” you say quietly as a lone tear rolls down your cheek. you look at neuvillette and reach a hand to his face, cupping his cheek to draw him in for a sweet kiss. though the kiss was short and sweet, it was full of passion, full of unconditional love.

“thank you for making me a father, my love,” he whispers against your lips before he rises from the bed. “may i hold him?” he asks just as quietly. you smile at him before you hand him your son.

as soon as neuvillette has him in his arms, the two quietly stare at each other, taking the other in. you can only smile as you watch your two loves familiarize themselves with each other. yet something in the window behind neuvillette catches your eye.

the sight brings more tears to your eyes as you see the glittering flurries of snow dance outside the window. your eyes travel back to neuvillette holding your son. you can see the trails of tears run down his cheek as his son holds onto his finger with his tiny, pudgy hand.

you watch on as you think to yourself that you have never witnessed such a beautiful scene. your husband falling in love with his new son as the beauty of the season’s first snow paints the background.

your son is almost a month old when the holiday finally arrives.

you're anxious as you sit on the couch with your son in your arms, watching as neuvillette opens his gift from you. your shoulders sag in relief as you watch a small smile form on neuvillette's face as he finally sees the golden pocket watch you've given him.

“it’s perfect love,” he compliments, his eyes now focused on you.

“look inside,” you urge him.

he follows your instruction and clicks it open, his smile growing wider as he sees the photograph of you and your son placed in the, there for him to see when he checks the time. now his beautiful wife and son will be with him wherever he may be.

do not copy or repost my work

#⋆˙⟡♡#neuvilette x reader #dad neuvillette #genshin x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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howlingday · 28 days ago

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The Worst Secret Red Man Ever

Pyrrha: Remember, it's Secret Red Man, so it's supposed to be anonymous.

Nora: Yeah, yeah~! (Opens bag) ...What?

Ren: What is it?

Nora: Who gave me deodorant?

Pyrrha: I-It's supposed to be anonymous.

Nora: Was it you?!

Pyrrha: N-No.

Nora: Who did this?!

Ren: Is there a note attached to it?

Nora: There's no note! It's just a used stick of deodorant, Ren! Why would somebody do this?!

Pyrrha: M-Maybe the anonymous giver in question ran out of time and did the best with what they had?

Nora: Unbelievable!

Jaune: Now, now, the holidays aren't ruined yet-

Nora: I'M RUINING THE HOLIDAYS RIGHT NOW! It's USED!

Ren: Nora, there's another gift here for you.

Nora: Let me see that!

Pyrrha: Uh, maybe someone else should go next?

Nora: Why's that, Pyrrha?

Pyrrha: Well, you... you just went... so-

Nora: Am I not gonna like what's in this bag, Pyr?

Pyrrha: It's... supposed to be anonymous.

Nora: (Open bag, Reaches in)

Nora: ...A USED BAR OF SOAP!

Ren: That's just gross.

Jaune: Really gross.

Pyrrha: IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE ANONYMOUS!

#rwby #non-descript winter holiday #non descript winter holiday #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #lie ren

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blurredcolour · 8 months ago

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In My Blood | Epilogue

In My Blood Masterlist

Curtis "Curt" Biddick x SOE!Female Reader

The war has been over for months. It has been even longer since you bade Curt a tearful farewell on the tarmac at St. Mawgan. So why are you standing in his neighbourhood, on his street?

Warnings: MAJOR canon divergence, Language, Cold, Angst, Death, Grief, Displacement, Fluff, Holidays, Family, Tearful Reunion, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes- 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: This story contains revisionist history, read at your own risk. Reader is half-Belgian, half-English and has been given an extensive backstory and family tree. While they have been given the codename of "Marie," no physical descriptions or Y/N are used.

Italics used for non-English words and to indicate dialogue spoken in a language other than English.

This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 2815

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

December 21, 1945

Snowflakes were idly wending their way to the ground on the treelined streets of the Woodlawn Heights neighbourhood of The Bronx, their path as slow and aimless as yours. Children who had been playing outside in the first flurries of the year, school dismissed early for the holidays, were gradually called inside for dinner, taking their laughter and seasonal excitement with them.

You were honestly not quite sure what you were doing here in this remarkably tranquil slice of New York, bordered by a park, and perhaps more ominously a cemetery. Why you had strayed so far afield from your rented flat on the Upper East Side, from your office at Lloyd’s America. Yet as your glove-clad fingers traced over the tattered edges of the worn envelope in the pocket of your fashionable winter coat, you knew exactly what had brought you here. To this tiny corner of the world that had birthed and shaped perhaps the only good thing that had come to you in the last six years. That you had so painfully set free.

It had been a long seventeen months of imparting your wisdom to the next generation of SOE agents at the schools that had once shaped your talents. Frustrated to have been relegated behind the lines and yet it had been rewarding all the same to remain involved courtesy of Smythe’s assistance. Focused as you were on the ultimate defeat of Hitler and his pathetic Reich, it still would have been false to claim that Curt had not taken up permanent residence in the back of your mind – a source of worry, of concern, but of hope.

And so when the office closed at three for the holidays, everyone rushing home to their families, you surrendered at last that gnawing curiosity about the street address scrawled on the envelope you had carried with you since that rainy day on the tarmac in late November 1943.

“You look pretty lost there, gorgeous.” That unforgettable voice cut through the gathering twilight as the streetlights began to flicker on, and you could not help your short laugh of surprise as your heart lurched, looking down sheepishly at being so easily spotted.

Clearly you had spent too long in the classroom, in civilian life. Had lost your edge as a field agent. Or perhaps a part of you had been so convinced you would never get a chance to see him again that you had failed to even consider the possibility of running into him by coming here.

“Pretty sure Belgium is…” there was a pause as he angled his body before pointing to what must be the northeast “…that way.”

Risking a small glance up at him, your eyes sank again quickly as your throat spasmed at just a glimpse of him. Dragging the toe of your boot through the accumulated dusting of snow on the sidewalk, you cleared your throat painfully to force out “turns out the home I fought for isn’t there anymore…”

Certainly, you had not expected things to snap back to normal with the Nazi surrender – you had seen firsthand a great deal of the damage of the invasion and occupation. Yet you had been utterly unprepared for what greeted you upon your return to Brussels that August. The scars of liberation were even deeper than those left by the occupiers. Yes, Europe had been freed, but the cost had been steep. The house you had grown up in flattened, the factories you were supposed to have inherited seized by the government, and the second house in Wallonia taken over by another family. People you had known for years treated you as a coward, as someone who had fled in fear with the King and his court, living in comfort abroad while they had suffered under the heel of the Nazi jackboot. And it would have been against the Official Secrets Act to correct them. Thanking your father for his foresight to move the majority of his fortune to Swiss banks, you had ensured a fitting burial for your parents and had hired a lawyer to sort through the property battles that would surely drag on for years to come.

Returning to England in September, you had learned the Dowager Marchioness had died in your brief absence and left the majority of her estate to you – to your bewilderment and the Marquess’s ire. Ensuring that your cousin Philomena had received the tiara she had always coveted, you had packed up the rest of your newly inherited items and had turned your eyes to the ‘new world.’ To an entirely new life in a new place that had nothing to do with war or societal expectation. Lloyd’s of London had a branch in New York and had been eager to hire you with your multiple languages and exemplary war service with the ATS. You had been on a boat by the first week of November.

Exhaling heavily at the weight of all that had transpired, you watched the tips of Curt’s shoes came into view as he stepped closer.

His finger hooked beneath your chin and gently lifted your eyes up to meet his, softened to a sky blue by empathy. “I’m sorry.” He spoke gently, his breath visible in the crisp air.

You blinked rapidly as his face threatened to blur behind tears “Me too.”

Whether your regret stemmed from the way you had parted or the fact that your life was forever changed, you did not elaborate. Most likely, it was both. His fingers unfurled beneath your chin to cup your cheek fully as he frowned, a shiver trembling through you at the warmth in his palm.

“You’re cold.” He muttered, shuffling closer.

You sniffed softly. “Not as cold as the mountains.” You finished with a rueful laugh, a crooked smile unfurled on his features.

“Don’t think I’ll ever be that cold again.”

As you laughed more freely, you realized he was not even wearing a proper coat, clad only in a sweater, really, a bottle of milk clutched in his free hand. “You need to get inside, you’re not even in a jacket.” You chided.

“Come with me, have some dinner. The family would love to meet you.” His offer was spoken casually but his eyes betrayed a fragile hopefulness.

A riot of butterflies fluttered to life in your abdomen, but you inhaled quickly, needing to make something clear before you accepted his invitation.

“I can’t…” his face fell, and you rushed to finish the statement, quickly cupping his cheeks, slightly annoyed at the barrier of your gloves, “tell them who I am, what I did…it would be treason.”

He exhaled slowly, gaze ricocheting across your face rapidly. “So that’s not a ‘no.’”

Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, you shook your head firmly. “It’s a ‘yes, I’d love to,’ but we just need to think of an explanation of how we know one another. How we met.”

As you spoke, you were acutely aware of the way his eyes came to settle on your mouth, his own lips parting slightly, making your pulse increase markedly.

“First, just let me…” His eyes flicked up to yours before sliding back down to your lips and you leaned in unconsciously, meeting him halfway for a firm kiss, sliding your arms around him tightly to help warm him.

Curt’s arms encircled you tightly, pulling you close in turn, the milk bottle digging into your shoulder blade slightly as he entrapped you. You would have verbally assured him you had no intent of going anywhere this time, yet he was also doing a very thorough job of keeping your mouth occupied, rendering you silent save for soft exhales of delight. Pulling back only to satiate the need for oxygen, visible puffs of air accumulated in the minimal space between you.

“Cannot think when you do that.” You complained teasingly and he smirked broadly with a dangerous glint to his eyes.

“Shame.” He replied without an ounce of remorse, followed by a kiss that tasted of fierce possessiveness, his tongue sliding along yours, making your fingers curl into the knit of his sweater as you grew dizzy.

There was something achingly familiar, comforting, and yet refreshing to be in his arms again. It did not feel like you were trying to seek out some obliterated past, but rather picking up an extraordinary novel in progress, set down a while ago, with new and incredible pages yet to discover. Lungs burning, you reluctantly broke the seal of your lips, biting the inside of your cheek to tame the absurd grin that wanted to crack your face wide open as he buried his chilled cheeks in the warmth of your collar. Quickly unbuttoning your jacket, you coaxed him closer to share more body heat as the sun had since fully set.

“What brought you to New York, anyway?” He murmured, lips brushing against your neck as he spoke, making swallow tightly before you could reply.

“This man I met told me it was a pretty great place to live, so I got a job here.”

You could feel the huff of his laugh, the curl of his grin. “Sounds like a smart fella.”

“Mmmm humble, too.” You chuckled.

The sound of a window scraping up in its frame from the red brick apartment building above you reverberated through the otherwise silent street, the exasperated voice of a woman echoing down.

“Curtis Rundle, I sent you for milk twenty minutes ago what is…oh!” Her annoyance at Curt turned to an exclamation of surprise as the pair of you turned to look up at her where she leaned out the second story window.

“Can you set another place, ma? My Belgian princess finally found her way home.” Curt grinned and gave you a tight squeeze at your sharp inhale as he continued to deliberately mistitle you.

It took all your strength not to laugh brightly when two more feminine faces bearing his same charmingly blunt features popped out the window as well.

“I would hate to impose…” You called up, suddenly recalling your manners.

“Nonsense! There’s plenty of food, please come in. Curtis bring the lady inside before she freezes to death.” The last was delivered a lot more sharply and much more like an order from a general, making you chuckle under your breath even as Curt seized your hand to drag you inside.

Following him up the concrete stairs, Curt burst into the warm apartment with you in tow, a flurry of activity within as the three women were adding another chair and place setting to the simple but obviously loved wooden dining table. Curt handed off the bottle of milk to one of his sisters, whether it was Ann or Charlotte, they did not stop long enough to make an introduction, before he took your coat to hang it up once you had slid the gloves into the pocket. You wished you had changed after work, dressed in a chic black office dress with a brooch to impress, utterly out of place amongst their handmade and mended, cheery fabrics.

But then Delphia emerged from the kitchen and smiled at you warmly.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest thing, what a lovely couple you two make.”

Shaking her hand warmly, you introduced yourself quickly. “Thank you so very much for the last-minute invitation, I do apologize I have arrived empty-handed. Please allow me to return the favour one day?”

“Only if you insist, now come sit, lets get some warm food into you.” She guided you to the table, introducing her daughters who sat opposite you, putting faces to names whispered back in the mountain village of Esterri D’Aneu.

“So what did you do during the war?” Charlotte launched right into it, earning a look of admonishment from her elder sister but only reminding you of her brother.

“Well, I was living in England at the time, so I volunteered with the Auxiliary Territorial Service.” You provided your standard answer. Your sanitized, cover answer.

“Like Princess Elizabeth.” Ann nodded eagerly and you nodded in confirmation.

“Yes, actually we had similar roles, both of us worked as drivers. Though I am not, despite your brother’s insistence, a princess.”

“She is nobility though, don’t let her fool you.” Curt chided as he began to fill the table with dishes of food under his mother’s watchful eye.

Shooting him a look, the damage was already done, and you were forced to launch into the convoluted explanation of your lineage, neither of his sister’s any clearer on where you stood by the time his mother sat down to say grace. Insisting on serving you first, your mouth was full of food when the dreaded question, the one that Curt and his insistent kisses had left you utterly unprepared to answer, arose.

“How did you two meet?”

It was Charlotte again, scooping a heap of potatoes onto her plate as her eyes flicked between the pair of you, seated side-by-side, eagerly.

You were in the midst of wracking your brain for something to say when Curt started speaking.

“This gorgeous woman here helped me get back,” his hand landed gently on your knee under the table, squeezing reassuringly as your grip on your fork grew painfully tight, “to base one night in July after I got a little lost after some fun at the pub. One look at her behind the wheel and I was lost.”

Ducking your head slightly under such praise, and to hide your exhale of relief, you stealthily slid your hand over his where it still lay on your thigh, squeezing in gratitude as Charlotte was exclaiming how utterly romantic it was before somehow relating it to the story of how she met her Randolph. More than happy to take the bait, you leaned forward, asking just the right questions to send her into the whole tale of their love affair, taking the heat off you and Curt.

Sitting back, eating a homecooked meal, laughing quietly as Ann and Curt teased Charlotte mercilessly with Delphia watching on fondly, you were suddenly struck by how utterly warm you felt inside and out. Ann’s soft repetition of your voice jarred you back to the present and you thanked her softly as she took your empty plate to the kitchen, Delphia and Charlotte already in there fixing dessert, Curt’s fingers lacing through yours.

“What’s going through that scarily gorgeous head of yours?” He leaned in to utter just for you to hear and you swallowed thickly, glancing around before looking to him softly.

“You…this place…your family…” you began hesitantly, “feels an awful lot like home.” You finished in a soft whisper.

A slow grin stretched across his face, growing to an utterly blinding intensity that had your teeth sinking into your lower lip.

“Careful gorgeous, you’re gonna get yourself kissed in front of my whole family and then neither of us will hear the end of it.” There was a dangerously raspy edge to his voice that had you pressing your lips together tightly, trying your best to behave as bowls of sticky toffee pudding were set out in front of you.

“Where are you spending the holidays?” Delphia asked warmly as she and the girls settled back into their chairs, everyone digging into the delicious dessert.

“Oh I don’t have any plans, honestly, just another weekend for me really.”

“You must spend it with us then!” Charlotte cried out, looking appalled at the idea of you spending the next few days alone.

“Yes, please, we would love to have you.” Delphia smiled warmly.

“This year and every year after that if you’d like.” Curt’s easy statement could have been mistaken for warm hospitality and yet…

Turning sharply to him to face him, a collective gasp sounding from his sisters across the table, he nodded earnestly.

“If we feel like home, better make it official and marry me already.” As usual, his words were brash and playful, but there was something tender and fragile in his gaze as he lay himself out there completely.

Setting your spoon down, you swallowed incredulously. “That is certainly one way to propose. Now you’re the one getting yourself kissed in front of your whole family.”

Grasping his face, you pulled him close to kiss him firmly, earning hoots of triumph from Charlotte and more lady-like exclamations of delight from Ann and Delphia. You did not linger too long, more than aware of your audience, desperately trying not to giggle at the rather disorientated way he stared back at you.

“Wait…” He breathed eventually. “…that a yes?”

“Yes!” You declared with a peal of laughter, grinning against his lips as he pulled you close for a triumphant kiss of his own.

“Not letting you go ever again.” Curt muttered against your lips.

“Not going anywhere.” You assured him firmly.

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

In My Blood Masterlist

Tag list: @precious-little-scoundrel, @luminouslywriting, @polikabra, @beingalive1

#curt biddick x reader #curtis biddick x reader #curt biddick #curtis biddick #mota fanfic #mota fic #masters of the air fanfiction #mota #mastersoftheair #masters of the air

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