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oceantornadoo · 2 months

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protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still my wife.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

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idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley wife #ghost call of duty #tornadothoughts #ex husband ghost #fluff

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trendywaifus · 4 months

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↳ just wanna see my baby right outside my door!

you think you’d be alone this christmas but your girlfriend surprises you.

↳ featuring—arlecchino, kafka, shenhe, jingliu

cw: thigh riding, vaginal penetration, teasing, pet names, degradation (slut is used on kafka’s part, soft alre ( mentions of smut towards the end), strap use, kitchen sex, brat taming, i was afraid of making the fic too long so i stupidly rushed it towards the end, sorry, ( ill fix things up later.)

arlecchino was a very busy woman—which you knew from the very beginning of course. after all, she was a fatui habringer, owns an orphanage, and the list goes on. when arlecchino informed you about the plans and meetings she had during christmas eve and christmas day a few days prior, a bitter taste sits on your tongue. nevertheless, you mustered up a tight–lipped smile which your lover did not ignore and provided you words of sweet comfort and kisses.

fast forward to christmas day, you’re sitting alone in your living room, sipping on lukewarm chocolate cocoa that you didn’t really have any interest drinking. there was a bunch of presents stacked under the tree and it was mostly for her and the kids. you sighed dejectedly, placing the mug down with a frown on your face. stomach churning, tears prick your eyes, and you were quick to rub them away with your palm. perhaps you should sleep early to get rid of this awful feeling of loneliness.

a few soft, yet firm knocks at the door breaks the depressing silence. puzzled, you stand up from the couch and walked over towards the door. upon opening it, your eyes widen to see your lover standing patiently in front of you along with two fatui soldiers behind her carrying armfuls of presents. ignoring the shocked expression on your face, she gives you a gentle smile and delicately takes your hand in hers before bringing it up to her lips. “ good evening and merry christmas, my love. i apologize for not informing you about the chances of my early arrival but i wanted it to be a surprise. may we come in? “ arlecchino asks, kissing your knuckles.

you meekly nod, pulling away to step aside from the door for arlecchino and the two men to come in. “ you two, please set the presents by the christmas tree, i would greatly appreciate it. “ she requests, pointing over to the corner where the christmas tree sits; they complied with silent nods. sharp onyx eyes peers over at the boxes of gifts under the tree. she then turns over to you, her gaze softening. “ dear, are those gifts prepared for me? “

“ yes, and for the kids. “ you answered quietly. arlecchino scans your face for a short moment, noticing the redness around the corner of your eyes and the wrinkles between your brows.

“ men. “

“ yes, my lady? “ the two soldiers answered in sync.

“ take all of the gifts from under the tree and bring them to the hearth, you mustn’t drop them or damage them, do you understand? “ the sudden sternness in her voice made them flinch.

“ o-of couse, my lady! “

they quickly gathered all of the presents from under the tree. despite there being loads of them, they were able to fit all of the gifts in their arms and scramble out the door. alrechinno sighs, closing the door behind the two men and locked it. “ um, will they manage? although the trip isn’t that long, there are quite a lot of presents to carry. “

“ they better manage. that is their punishment for their incompetence. those two fools caused me a few unwanted inconveniences recently. “ she almost growled. arlecchino deeply sighs to recompose herself and gingerly lures you in by the forearm, bringing you into her arms. “ but i digress,“ she lifts her palm to your cheek and caressed the redden skin under your eye with her thumb. “ i made you cry, didn’t i, dove? “ you could hear the clear disappointment in her voice.

“ no alre, it was just. .i didn’t think you’d come, that’s all. . “ you trailed off, averting your gaze away from arlecchino’s. she lifts your chin up with a finger to guide your eyes back to hers. she leans in to kiss your cheekbone. “ i understand. i deeply apologize for making you wait and think such a thing. i promise that next year will be different. “ she whispered, brushing her lips against yours. a sense of warmth washes over you, getting rid of the bitter feeling of loneliness you previously had.

“ now that i’m here, allow me to make it up to you, dove. “ arlecchino locks her soft lips with yours in a slow, sensual kiss. you kissed back, wrapping your arms around her neck, threading your fingers in her silk snow hair. she holds you closer, running a delicate hand down your back. after a few moments, arlechinno breaks the kiss. “ dear, do you want to open your presents now? “ she asks warmly, looking down at you; red x—shaped pupils brimming with nothing but unadulterated infatuation and loyalty. the other fatui habringers say arlecchino is a wolf in sheep’s clothing—that her calm and stoic personality is nothing but a facade, and everything she does is calculated. perhaps that maybe true, but after witnessing this, you truly believe that even she is capable of love.

you held her tighter and kissed the corner of her mouth. “ no, not now. i just want you. “ arlecchino chuckled huskily, turning her head a bit to peck your lips. “ as you wish, dove. let’s transition to the couch, shall we? “ she releases you from her hold and ushers you over to the couch. she sits down, pulls you down onto her lap, and settles her inky hands on your waist. you wasted no time to press your lips against hers. she hums into the kiss, tilting her head to slot her lips between yours. your hands tugged the coat from her shoulders, causing it to pool at her arms.

“ you’re quite impatient. “ arlecchino husks as your hands skins down her bare arms, pushing the jacket further down until it’s hitting her elbows. you dragged your parted lips down her chin and neck, leaving behind open mouth kisses. her breath hitches, desire sparks within her. “ could you blame me, arle? “ you muttered against her pale skin.

suddenly, arlecchino positions her thigh against your clothed heat, causing you to gasp. “ that’s fine. if you’re going to be impatient, so will i. “ she adjusts her hands on your hips and rocked them back and forth. you moaned as your clit roughly drags against the cotton fabric of your panties and her pants. her narrowed eyes looks you up and down, itching to see the bare skin under your nightwear. “ hm, although, getting off from my thigh will do for now. i maybe impatient, but i’m not that much in a hurry to reduce you into a crying mess.”

“ merry christmas, darling~ “ kafka purrs in your ear, sliding the fat, plastic cockhead into your weeping pussy, stretching out your tight walls. her hands gripped your hips as she pushes her cock deeper into your hole. “ i-it’s soo big. “ you cried out, holding onto her back for dear life. she chuckles, dipping down to kiss away the fat tears rolling down your cheeks. kafka made you wait all christmas night, just to show up at your door with several expensive presents, which also included a custom-made strap that matched the color and design of her gloves. the fact that it was almost three inches bigger than the regular sizes she keeps, has you writhing in pleasure.

“ mhm, i know. i knew one of my special little christmas presents would make you cry tears of joy.” she grins roguishly, amethyst eyes twinkling with amusement. you hissed at her, wanting to smack, better yet, fuck that grin off that pretty face of hers. “ you’re such a little shit, kaf—ka! “ you yelped as she slides her length out of your pussy only to slam it right back in. “ not nice, you naughty girl. “ kafka playfully croons, prodding her fingers in between your bruised lips to stop your potty mouth.

“ maybe i should of stuffed your mouth with my cock first, huh? “ she muses, pounding into your pussy with sharp thrusts. you let out a muffled, broken moan as her tip grazes your cervix. your mind becomes forcefully deprived of rational thoughts as she fucks away your sanity. nothing but strangled moans and groans left your lips which were music to the stellaron hunter’s ears.

she whistles, “ atta girl. now those are the sounds that i wanna hear. “

you weakly glared up at her, digging your nails into her skin as a poor attempt to make her flinch. she shown no reaction, instead, she laughs and lifts one of your legs up, propping it over her shoulder. “ still such a feisty little thing, aren’t you? don’t worry, i’m going to fuck you until i turn you into my obedient slut. “ her cock reenters your seeping cunt in a different angle that made your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your head.

kafka rolls her hips, pushing her cock up against a sweet spot, causing you to nearly scream in pleasure. “ mmh, that was a good one baby doll. “ she litters your face with kisses, messily smearing your skin with her lipstick. she quickens her pace, rutting you into the mattress. the delicious noise of your slick covered walls swallowing kafka’s cock with every thrust made her own pussy flutter over nothing.

by now, you’re babbling and drooling with kafka’s digits still stuffed in your mouth; sweaty face covered in lipstick. she licks her lips at the messy yet beautiful sight below her.

“ absolutely wonderful, darling. this the best present i could ever have. “

you could never be mad at shenhe for showing up at your home near the end of christmas day with just one small gift in her hand. she’s ignorant to many mortal holidays and traditions so you’re very patient with her. she handed you the little box with a shy smile on her face and explained to you that inside is a charm for fending off evil spirits and bad luck. shenhe had a little trouble with finding a gift for you which is why she was pretty late. thanks to cloud retainer and ganyu, she was able to get you the charm and bless it.

of course you also had some gifts made for shenhe, but it wouldn’t hurt to show her your appreciation first.

“ so pretty. “ you cooed, pushing back the sliver white fringes from her beautiful eyes. your hand snakes under the opening of her hip window, rubbing the toned skin underneath. her stomach flexes as your warm hand travels down and palms her heat. she sharply sucks air between her teeth, looking over at you with hazy needy eyes. “ you don’t have to worry about a thing, sweetheart. “ you mumbled, delving down to kiss her apple cheeks, “ let me take care of you—relax. “

you played with her clit, rubbing and grinding against the small bundle of nerves with your palm in a slow, circular motion. shenhe groans, weakly grabbing your wrist but made no attempt to stop you. you shift down towards her chest area and lifted the flap piece up, revealing her hardened nipples poking out from the black, stretchy fabric. you wrapped your warm mouth around one of the perky buds through the cloth and swirled your tongue. “ feels. .good. “ she breathed, closing her eyes as she focuses on your fingers stroking her puffy folds and your tongue teasing her nipple.

her back arches as the tip of your ring and index finger teases her entrance. “ i know a strong girl like yourself can take two at a time without prep. “ you chuckled, slowly easing your fingers inside her pussy. a throaty moan leaves her lips. she can feel your nails drag against her walls, stretching her out. “ do you want me to let you adjust or start moving? i’m fine with whatever, sweets. “

“ m-move. “ she answers without a second thought.

you slide further inside until you were knuckles deep. she lets out a soft moan as you slowly thrust your fingers into her cunt while nibbling and tugging at her other sensitive bud. your drool leaves a growing dark patch on the fabric. desperation washes over shenhe like a wave as you continued to finger her and focus your attention on her clothed breasts. “ m-more. .” she groans, looking down at you with half–lidded eyes.

“ anything for you, sweetheart. “ you moved back up to her level and sealed your lips with hers. when you curl your fingers into a spongy patch, shenhe’s self control slips.

“ surprise, surprise~ “

a familiar, soft voice whispers in your ear as a silk blindfold covers your eyes. a pair of hands ghosts over your sides and cool breath fans against the back of your neck. a chill runs down your spine. “ jingliu?” you called out, slightly nervous. you didn’t feel her presence in the kitchen or even hear her enter your home. though, you didn’t want to question it too much since she’s a master swordsman who’s always light on her feet. but you can’t lie and say she doesn’t scare you sometimes with her quiet footsteps.

“ mhm. “ jingliu hums, resting her chin on your shoulder. “ i didn’t expect you to come home so late but merry christmas. can i ask why you’ve blindfolded me? “ her hands settles at your hips, cool lips grazes your ear.

“ merely for my enjoyment, dar–ling~ i’m here to claim my present. “ she nibbles and lightly tugs on your earlobe. you swallowed thickly, holding back a soft moan as she grinds her hips into your ass, sandwiching you between her and the kitchen counter. “ aeons, i can’t even make hot cocoa without you randomly pouncing on me. “ you murmured. but, you’re still quite happy to see her since she has the tendency to wander about for days at a time.

her hand slips under the waistband of your pajamas and panties. deft, slender fingers rub your folds, causing you to squirm. “ i’m going to take you right here. ” jingliu promises, you could hear the mischievous smile in her voice. unable to see because of the blindfold, you desperately grasp for the edge of the counter as she mercilessly plays with your clit and leaves cool kisses along your shoulder blade.

you gasped as her finger circled your entrance and enters inside. “ ah—jingliuu. .” you whined, hunching over the counter as she ruthlessly fingers your pussy without any time for you to adjust. “ i haven’t even added in two fingers yet—take it. “ jingliu growls. you could feel her finger stretch you apart, nails barely scratching the sweet spot you’re utterly weak to. “ n-not so fast! “ you hissed, knees growing weak from her pace.

jingliu ignores your plea and instead, adds another finger, erupting a loud moan from your throat. she sucks the skin on the side of your neck, leaving behind a red blotch. your walls clamps around her fingers, jingliu nearly moans at the feeling. “ you’re squeezing my fingers so tight, i cannot wait to feel you do the same to my tongue. “

jingliu finally adds in the third finger, stretching your hole even further. you swear you could see stars popping into your teary vision.

#trendy #arlecchino x reader #kafka x reader #shenhe x reader #jingliu x reader #genshin women x reader #honkai star rail women x reader #hsr smut #genshin impact smut

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doki-doki-imagines · 5 months

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Who falls for the mistletoe trick? feat. mk1 Liu Kang, Johnny Cage, Tomas, Mileena, Kuai Liang

author note: another severe case of "I'll die if I don't post them today" LOL. Hope you'll like them!

Liu Kang -He falls for it. -For real? The creator of this timeline didn't expect a mistletoe from his partner at the entrance of their shared house? -Yes, Liu Kang knew from day one that this would happen, and he waited, breath itching and hands tingling in front of the doorstep each day since December started. -You point up, a knowing smirk on your face and Liu Kang acts surprised, white eyes widening a bit before looking down at you. "What a surprise, dear one." His voice is steady, like always, but your ears twitch, a mischievous undertone you can hear thanks to the time you spent together. "You knew this would happen right?" You said now in his open arms, steps lulling you, door closing thanks to Liu Kang's graceful kick. "Maybe" He looks up smiling like a fool "Now it is time to celebrate traditions." -You are the first to get closer, your lips pressed against his soft ones, his right hand finding peace in the back of your head, pushing you closer, the other on your lower back, moving in slow circle, his fire slowly enveloping you, his tattoos hidden under the bandages glowing faintly. -Liu Kang loves Earthrealm traditions.

Johnny Cage -He doesn't fall for it, but you do for sure. -Not like you had any chance when all the ceiling is filled with mistletoes. -He welcomes you with open arms, smiling from one ear to the other knowing perfectly well that you won't avoid celebrating the tradition. -He asks for a kiss each step you make, they are fast, simple smacks. -Till, one step at a time, the back of Johnny hits the table, your body now laying on his one, not a single breath of air to separate your bodies. -His kisses trail down your neck, his moist lips leaving you warm all over, his right hand lifting one of your legs. -It's time to take the matter in a more comfortable place… -Bonus: How could you not expect Johnny to have mistletoe-themed boxers? "Since you have been so loyal to the tradition it would be bad to break them now, no kitty?" He says smirking, while you don't know if you wanna die or laugh at the situation.

Tomas Vrbada -He falls for it! Congrats, it's not easy to surprise a ninja. -Tomas knows what a mistletoe means, he remembers when he watched with his sister Christmas movies, disgust plastered on his face. -Tomas feels giddy, a warmth that envelopes him completely. -He feels like a fool, a dumb kid during Christmas, a giggle escapes his mouth "So, don't I get a kiss?" His arms are open. -'It should be the other way around' you think, but it doesn't develop further, more excited to kiss your lover. -He is so overjoyed his legs become jelly, Tomas could only dream of being so loved by someone. -A simple gesture that brought him immense joy, fingers tapping on your back, playing your skin like a piano. -"Why so happy Tomas? Did I do something funny?" You question, lips barely apart. "You just reminded me of happy memories." He replies, hands now steady on your hips, grey eyes twinkling with joy.

Mileena -She…doesn't fall for it. Not because she knows what a mistletoe hanging from the ceiling means, but because of her observation skill. -"Dear, why there is a plant on the ceiling?" Voice rasped, head bending slightly. "Well, it's a long story…" -You explain to her what it means, never looking at her in the eyes, worried she find the tradition (and you) stupid. -She smiles, 'thank god' you think, her plush lips finding yours before you can finish the explanation, making you stutter. The kiss is fast and for sure not satisfying, leaving you aching for more. -"Is this fine, dove?" her arms lay on your shoulders, keeping your bodies close, lips so close, but also so far away… "I think I'll have to show you how to do this, Empress" You finally close the distance, courage finally sparked your soul. Mileena grunts, a shiver runs down her spine thanks to her fave honorific. -You didn't exchange just one kiss that day.

Kuai Liang: -He totally did notice the mistletoe but also doesn't know the meaning behind it so he just walks by. -"Ah, mister! Stop right there" Index finger touching his chest, hidden by so many layers of clothing "It's time to pay up." one hand caresses his cheek, while the other glides in his onyx locks, smirk plastered on your face. -But…he doesn't move? His brown eyes look at you questioning. "So you don't know about the mistletoe tradition, mh baby?" "Care to explain, fireball?" His eyebrows furrow, way more focused than he needs to be. -And so you do, looking at his face getting softer and softer at each phrase, just to end up snickering, a familiar sparkle in his brown eyes. -"You really find any occasion to get a kiss from me." "Are you saying you'd rather not?" You pull away, watching him in fake annoyance, eyes glued to his to notice if he takes the bait. -He does, a kiss fierce as he is, a kiss that leaves you breathless but that you wish it to be neverending. -"Is this fine?" Kuai Liang asks, a hint of jolly in his voice. "Yeah, but I think you should do that again, you know, just to be su-" -You won't need to finish the phrase.

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luveline · 5 months

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steve!! i miss him too :( what about a cute kbd christmas fic?

kbd —the harrington's start preparing for christmas. mom!reader, 2k

When you get home to absolute silence, you assume your kids have been abducted and your husband murdered. When you find the laundry baskets have been moved off of the stairs and the mountain of little shoes by the door has been lined up neatly, you guess the killers must've cleaned after it happened.

You forget the stiffness of your back and pinched toes. Arms full of grocery bags, you shoulder into the living room with your tongue between your teeth. “Oh,” you say, breathing out, “good. You're alive.”

Your girls are sitting in a wavy row. Avery lays with a long leg hanging over one couch arm, littlest Wren by her side swaddled and propped with pillows. Dove sits at Wren's other side with her rainbow Teddy bear in her lap. Bethie, precious sweetheart, is sleeping smushed against the opposite armrest with Steve's sweatshirt over her lap.

“Hey, honeys,” you say quietly, so as not to disrupt their mild moods, “everyone okay?”

“Yeah, mom,” Avery says without looking away from the TV.

“What about you, Dove? You okay?”

“Yis,” she says shortly.

You turn to the TV, confused. What could be interesting enough to hook them both? Even Wren seems to be watching the TV, her tiny face demure.

“What's this?” you ask, squinting, before a familiar white beagle takes to the screen. “Oh, it's A Charlie Brown Christmas!”

“Mommy, can you please be bit quieter, please?” Dove asks.

You snort and hurry past them to the kitchen. The smell of homemade cinnamon rolls envelopes you, the heat of the oven warming your wind-nipped nose. “Hey,” you say, though you can't actually see your husband anywhere.

He pops up from behind the kitchen table with water dripping down one wrist, a rag in hand. “Hey!” he says, ditching the rag in a bowl of suds, quick to wipe his hands dry on his chest and stand. “I didn't hear you. You forget how to yell?”

“And disturb the peace?” You sigh in relief as he takes the heavier bag from your wrist to push onto the clean countertop. “Thanks.” He takes the other bags. “Thanks, baby.”

“Y'welcome,” he says easily. He looks like he's had a long day in that his shirt is wet in four different places and in three different colours, but he looks happy, cheeks a red hue and almond eyes creased with a familiar fondness.

Steve's pretty much always happy to see you. You lay claim to at least two of his smile lines, and you love to feel them with your fingers to affirm that they're really there, he's really happy, in this life you made together. (An exhausting, lovely life.) You raise your hand to his cheek and cover one such wrinkle with your fingertips, tilting his face into one palm. “You've been busy today,” you say gently.

“So busy. All the bedrooms, the bathrooms. Soon as I wipe down the baseboards in here, I'm done.”

“Want me to do it?”

“No way. You'll take all my glory.” He presses his smile into a flat line, though the love stays behind in his eyes.

“I'm gonna look at everything just as soon as I put the groceries away, I can't believe it,” you say, kissing him chastely, then the corner of his mouth before pulling away. The soft brush of his lips lingers on yours, but nothing feels as good as the way he looks at you. “You didn't have to do it all, baby, I would've helped.”

“Christmas will be here before we know it,” he says with an unbothered shrug. “It creeps up on us every year. I figured I better get the jump on it if I was gonna get it done, but then they've all been so weirdly well behaved. Dove hasn't cried once.”

“Bethie's sleeping, you know?”

He takes your arm before you can turn away and works you into a hug.

“I know,” he says, cupping the back of your head. “Was Wren alright?”

“Best big sister is looking after her.”

“God, we don't deserve her. She's not stressed, is she?”

Avery loves being a big sister, but you're both wary of how she might feel responsible for things she shouldn't have to be responsible for. “She looked fine. They were watching TV.”

Steve gives you a steady, soft squeeze. You press your nose down into his shoulder with your arms curled around him to breathe him in. He smells of disinfectant, the sugary Christmas one that the girls can't get enough of. Avery begs him to spray down the bath before she gets in so it'll smell nice, and every time he promises her he'll buy her a bottle of bubble bath, but a little disinfectant isn't bad for her, anyways. From over Steve's shoulder you can see he's used it well, every surface sparkling clean, no corner or speck of grime left to survive.

You kiss his shoulder. “You really didn't have to, Stevie, but thank you. It's amazing in here.”

He hums into the side of your head. “I love you.”

You totally, totally get it. You'd clean a hundred houses for him, even with four girls badgering you as you go.

“Love you too. You finish the baseboards, I'll put the groceries away, and we'll sit down before they realise they're being well-behaved.”

Steve likes your plan, leaving you with a last little squeeze to get done cleaning. You sort through what's in the fridge, throwing away stuff past due, noting on the whiteboard stuck to the fridge what's about to go bad soon, as well as the dates for the meat. What you've bought today should last for at least two weeks, but it never really does.

You keep some of the Christmas goodies on the counter and hide the rest away atop the cabinets out of sight.

Avery runs in as you're taking off your shoes. “Mom, Bethie's crying about something.”

“Oh no. Thanks, babe, I'll be right there.”

You sneak a peek at Steve before you go. His brow furrowed in concentration, the muscle of his upper arm tenses and releases with every scrub of the baseboard. It's… Well, you married well.

Beth cries on the couch, she and Dove pulling at the same dark blob of material while Wren looks on in quiet confusion. She's too small to sit, laid on her back, but she's started turning her head, following people and their movements, and when she sees you, she smiles. It's a very Steve-like expression.

“Hello,” you say, picking her up carefully, kissing her little head. “Let's get you out of the splash zone, sweetheart.”

“Mom, she took daddy's hoodie!”

“I want it!”

“What if I go get another one of daddy's hoodies?” you ask, attempting a swift defusing. “How's that? We can all have one.”

“I want this one,” Beth insists.

“I want it,” Dove says, glaring at her older sister.

Bethie is a gentle soul that won't pull it out of Dove's hands, even when she maybe should. She cries and balls her hands into the fabric to stop from losing it completely, sending you a desperate frown, “Mom, please, I had it first.”

“Yes you did, honey. Dove.” You look her straight in her little face, knowing this won't end well. “Bethie had it first, okay? You can have it later, but until then, I can go get you one for yourself.”

Dove hates that. Wren hates that Dove hates it, and everybody starts crying. Avery didn't follow you out of the kitchen, likely kept behind by Steve to save her from the coming massacre, but she'd probably start crying too from the sheer overwhelming volume.

Can't have everything, you think.

“Dove, don't make me call daddy in here. Take your hands off of daddy's sweatshirt. Now, please.”

Dove shrieks and lets go of it, throwing herself down off of the couch to cry into the beanbag instead. She kicks her legs, and Beth looks shocked at the outcome, any victory overwritten by guilt. She climbs off of the couch with her arm already held out to give Dove the sweater, but you stop her.

“That's yours, baby, you keep it. Daddy gave that to you.”

“I'm not being a good sharer,” Bethie says.

“There's enough to go around,” you promise her. Dove's just showing off ‘cos you've said no, not because there's something special about that sweatshirt. Sure, it has a reindeer on the chest, but Steve has tens of Christmas sweatshirts.

You get to a point as a parent where the crying becomes white noise, and you can manage one at a time or none at all. Bethie nods, and you lean down to give her tearstained cheek a kiss before turning to Dove with Wren grizzling in your arms. She can't decide if she's upset or not, it seems.

“Dovey, don't be angry at me, please? Let's go get you another one. Okay? You could even have one of mommy's, if you wanted.”

Not good enough. She cries and cries and cries until Steve enters the room, his confusion dramatised as he holds out his hands to her. “Dove! What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“Mom won't– mommy won't–” She sobs. “I want that one.”

“Mommy's just doing what I asked her to,” Steve says, bending down at the waist to meet her eyes. “So be mad at me, okay? Mommy didn't do it, I told her that that one's for Beth. How about we go and get you another one?”

Dove immediately takes his hand, appeased now she has someone on her side. You flop down on the couch as they walk away together with one last child to soothe. Wren goes down easy. All she wants is some shushing and back patting.

“Is it over?” Avery asks, tiptoeing back into the room.

You laugh. “Yeah, it's over. Sorry.”

“I'm sorry for hiding,” she says.

“There's nothing wrong with sitting somewhere quiet when things are too loud, bub. You gonna come and finish your movie? We can get dad to rewind it for us.” You hold out an arm. She sits in front of it with a smile like she's been given the world.

You really don't deserve your girl.

Steve and Dove return changed. Steve's in clean pyjamas with wet cheeks, Dove drowned in one of Steve's snowman sweaters. He rewinds the movie without being asked, and he squeezes in beside Avery, and everyone lets out a simultaneous sigh of relief.

He finds your shoulder across the back of the couch, feeling along it like he knows every curve and divot. It doesn't take long for you to settle in and relax, soothed as the girls had been by a touch of comfort. Your attention flickers between his peaceful face and the baby as she snores on your chest.

“Snoopy is sooooo bad,” Bethie whispers happily, looking to her big sister for an agreement.

“He's mischievous,” Avery says.

“That's a big word,” you say, “where'd you learn that one, honey?”

Steve pats your arm. He doesn't say anything, just lets you know he's there with you.

“We're reading a book about Santa at school and they said all the mischievous kids end up on the naughty list.”

“That's not necessarily true.” You kiss her forehead. “You girls are mischievous, but you're still good girls.”

“I'm not mist-jiv-us,” Beth denies.

“You're the most mist-jiv-us,” Steve says, “I know what you're up to, Bethie bear. I always know.”

“I'm not up to anything!” she denies, giggling at his accusatory tone.

“I am naughty,” Dove says.

You and Steve laugh at the same time. “Only a little,” Steve says.

“A lot!” Avery says.

Dove just laughs and lays back against Steve's chest. Avery languishes between you and Steve like a princess, propping her leg over your thigh, and Beth snuggles into your arm. You breathe in the smell of Wren's hair, totally relaxed in the squeaky clean depths of the living room, your family finally in one place.

Steve deserves a great, huge, heaping thank you, but you don't have anything to give him. You turn to him over Avery's head, trying to think of what to say to him to express how grateful you are for all that effort and love, years of it, but when he meets your eyes you know he already knows what you want to say.

“Can we pretend there's mistletoe or something?” he asks, looking down to your lips, his own pursed into a longing pout.

“Yeah, Stevie,” you say, lifting your chin invitingly. “Wow, look, there's mistletoe! You know what that means.”

You can feel the shape of his smile when he kisses you, and though he keeps it short and sweet, that evening his hand stays on your arm for hours drawing hearts between iterations of your name, one loving letter at a time.

619 notes · View notes

rookthorne · 5 months

Text

The 12 days of Christmas have never looked so good, and I am here to spoil us with the best miniature advent calendar in the form of my Bucky's!

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑼𝑵𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬𝑺

― BUCKY BARNES ―

֎ Biker!Bucky Barnes — Brotherhood & Bullets ֎ Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes + Bodyguard!Winter Soldier — Staya Volkov ֎ Farmer!Bucky Barnes — Peaches 'n Cream Ranch ֎ Incubus!Bucky Barnes — Depths of Pleasure ֎ Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes — Sturdy Roots, Strong Hearts ֎ Mafia!Bucky Barnes — His Empire, Her Rules ֎ Artist!Bucky Barnes — The Queen's Masterpiece ֎ Mechanic!Bucky Barnes — His Girls ֎ Nurse!Bucky Barnes — A Hero ֎ Alpha!Mafia!Bucky Barnes — Ruling Instinct ֎ Paramedic!Bucky Barnes — Lights, Sirens and Sincerity ֎ Personal Trainer!Bucky Barnes — Progress, Not Perfection ֎ Pornstar!Bucky Barnes — Purity ֎ Scare Actor!Bucky Barnes — The Hunt ֎ Viking!Bucky Barnes — The Skógr

― STUCKY ―

֎ Firemen!Stucky — Built Differently ֎ Tattoo Artist!Stucky — Garden of Ink

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑭𝑰𝑪 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻

56,529

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑺

— The EVENT PLAYLIST can be found HERE. — The AO3 SERIES can be found HERE.

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑺

I would like to extend a massive thank you to @smutconnoisseur for helping me come up with prompts for this, and to @sebstanwhore for brainstorming for hours and hours with me!

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── 𝐊𝐄𝐘 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

— 𝐀 = angst — 𝐖 = whump — 𝐈 = sick fic — 𝐃 = dark — 𝐃² = dead dove — 𝐏 = poly — 𝐊 = kid fic — 𝐅 = fluff — 𝐒 = smut

🌟 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐬

─── Bodyguard!Bucky x F!Reader x Bodyguard!Winter Soldier ── 𝐏 + 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

A trip downtown and into a haven for Christmas was meant to be a fun, uneventful day out — a chance to refresh your decorations and introduce James to the festive spirit. A low key and calm trip into the chaos. Only, Bucky had other ideas, and there was nothing that would get in the way of his dastardly deed.

🎄 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐅𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬

─── Tattoo Artist!Stucky x Florist!F!Reader ── 𝐏 + 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

The reveal of Bucky and Steve’s plans for the day took you by surprise, but you would only let shock and awe hold you for so long in its clutches. A job needed doing, and for damn sure were you going to do it with a flourish.

✨ 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬

─── Incubus!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

There weren’t many things that could surprise your Incubus — aeons old, with the wit and wisdom to match, but when it came to Christmas, it turned out the sex demon himself was a virgin in celebrating the festive season, before you.

🎁 𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐰 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥

─── Lumberjack!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

A girl’s day out with Koda takes a surprising turn, and you were left with more questions than answers with Bucky’s strange, mysterious behaviour.

🎀 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬

─── Mechanic!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

To turn the Grinches into Reindeer, you needed to work hard to win them all over — some were easier than others, but with your own Santa on your side, it made it all the easier.

🧸 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐬

─── Nurse!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Christmas shopping was a dangerous mistake, Bucky realised, and all he could do was hope that in the end, he could rein you in, and you wouldn’t go home with the whole entire store.

— 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐩

✨ 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞

─── Farmer!Husband!Bucky x Wife!F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

You knew very well that your husband was up to something ever since he woke up before the crack of dawn to sneak out of the bedroom, but he wasn’t alone — there were two trouble makers in on the mischief.

🎅🏻 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐚

─── Firemen!Stucky x F!Reader ── 𝐏 + 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

A day at the station reveals more truth than you could have ever imagined — not in the presence of your boys and little ones, or how they were so gentle with the young ones in their joy for festivities.

🦌 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

─── Lumberjack!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

You were expecting it to be an ordinary day; prepare for the festivities with Koda and Sarge by your side, begging for treats and whatever else they set their eyes on. But what you did not expect, was to do so, with two reindeers in tow.

🌟 𝐃𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

─── Mafia!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Opulence was so readily and freely available to you in your lifestyle, and you had your love to thank for that. Of course, that meant you were going to find him the most dashing present, and spend a fortune on it, whether he liked the pop of colour, or not.

🎀 𝐎𝐡, 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥

─── Alpha!Mafia!Bucky x Omega!F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

The love that Bucky and you shared was unparalleled, unlike anything you had ever felt before. It was a joy to witness and be a part of the tender side of the otherwise ruthless and effective Mafia King. And on that day, it was no different — playing your cherished role had never been so fulfilling.

🎁 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫

─── Pornstar!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Christmas was a time for gifts and giving; of sharing with those you loved with all of your heart. Bucky was one of the lucky ones, and you had the most perfect gift for him.

🕯 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚

─── Scare Actor!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

The festive additions to Bucky’s Soldat costume had been a genius idea, you only had to work out the best way to bribe your boyfriend to go along with it, first.

— 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐩

🌟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞

─── Biker!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Miracles and surprises were never in short supply around Christmas, you had learned that during the last Christmas you spent with Bucky and the club; your own family. But, what if something came along, uprooting your certainty, and presenting all of the questions you were beyond nervous to find the answers for? You knew one thing was for certain, though. Your heart, while full of love and adoration for the man you called your own, maybe, just maybe, had room for another special someone.

🍪 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐲 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐧

─── Farmer!Husband!Bucky x Wife!F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Bucky knew well enough that your venture to the Christmas market would not leave him unscathed, but still, as your loving husband, he trailed behind you loyally and almost complaint free — until you sprang a surprise on him.

🕯 𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞

─── Tattoo Artist!Stucky x Florist!F!Reader ── 𝐏 + 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

There was never, ever a dull moment when it came to the pair of troublemakers you had involved yourself with, and your Christmas market stall was not immune, either.

🎁 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

─── Artist!Bucky x Mafia!F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

To test the patience of a lioness; a predator that watched over a pup, it was to toy with danger. You would flash your teeth in warning, but the real threat lurked in the shadows behind you, and there was no way he would let harm befall all that you held dear.

— 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐩

🌟 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

─── Bodyguard!Bucky x F!Reader x Bodyguard!Winter Soldier ── 𝐀 + 𝐏 + 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Decorating the tree was a tradition you were determined to bring into their home, and you were just as stubborn as they were to make it stick. But when night fell, that all washed away, leaving room for the love that one of them needed to make it through the silent night.

🎀 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲

─── Tattoo Artist!Stucky x Florist!F!Reader ── 𝐏 + 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

The holiday season was in full swing, and you were keen to make a head start for the coming days — each bouquet wouldn’t make itself, nor would the orders be filled if you stayed where it was warm and cosy. What you didn’t expect in your shop before the crack of dawn, however, was two men intent on sprucing up the space.

🕯 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥

─── Incubus!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

It was not the first time you had made a deal with a devil, but at least, on this occasion, you could watch the way his eyes darkened, or how his tail swished in the air; perfectly in beat with the hammering of your heart. The night only just started, but you were determined to get all you could from this unorthodox agreement.

✨ 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝

─── Lumberjack!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Christmas in the snow was something you adored about the festive season, and spending it with the ones you loved, both human and animal, would make it all the better. But Bucky had a surprise up his sleeve for you; the cards of his mischievous ways held close to his chest until the moment was right.

❤️ 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

─── Mechanic!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 + 𝐒 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

The distractions of festivities irked Bucky like no other, especially when you were standing there as though you weren’t the woman of his dreams, innocently decorating the living room and the Christmas tree within it. You weren’t to know just how far he would push and prod, not until it was too late.

🎅🏻 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬

─── Nurse!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Organically, a hospital was a place where gloom spread faster than a wildfire — it was hard to picture the environment as joyful and festive. Until you appeared, Christmas tree and ornaments in hand, and with the determination of a stubborn reindeer for the task you set yourself: decorate the hell out of the place, and bring some cheer to those who needed it the most.

🎄 𝐏𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

─── Alpha!Mafia!Bucky x Omega!F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

A new tradition you introduced to Bucky took a turn you should have, at the very least, expected, but it did not mean you wouldn’t milk it for all of its worth.

🧸 𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨'𝐬 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡

─── Paramedic!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Your surprise arrival at the station brightens more than Bucky’s day, and you couldn’t be happier to witness the joy in all of their faces when you revealed that you came bearing gifts.

💛 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞

─── Pornstar!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Bucky was a sweet talker; able to get every last thing he wanted if he just used the right words or tone with anyone. It was part of his charm. Though you thoroughly enjoyed it, he tended to weaponize it against you at the least convenient times; up a ladder and decorating the tree one of them.

— 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐩

🦌 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

─── Lumberjack!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

A few visitors to the cabin take both Bucky and you by surprise, and the sweet, kind creatures were as curious about you as you were of them.

🧸 𝐏𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

─── Nurse!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Sometimes even the hardest, most independent workers needed someone to lean on — whether they be of flesh and blood, or wool and stuffing.

✨ 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧

─── Paramedic!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

The festivities of Christmas were often overlooked by Bucky in his job in favour of rushing off to save a life, but not this year — this year, you were there to bring joy to him, and to all of his team.

❤️ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧

─── Personal Trainer!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐀 + 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

With little else to do during the busy festive period, you made your way to Howlie’s Gym, the place you made a home away from home and where you know your best friend made your haven safe. What you did not expect to find, however, was him in the office with the brightest smile on his face — as though you hung the moon that shone down over the two of you.

💚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐫

─── Viking!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Thieves came in many different forms — from Loki to a simple villager, or to a horse with the mind of a trickster and a heart of gold.

— 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐩

🌟 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫

─── Biker!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

As the President of his club, Bucky always made sure that he made it home, whether it be for his brother’s, or to just keep his legacy alive one more day. But it was not just that anymore, not after he had you as his guiding light — a beacon so bright that he knew he’d be a fool to act reckless, when he knew you were waiting for him back home.

🎀 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐞𝐝

─── Mechanic!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐒 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Surprises were not an unexpected occurrence when you come to think of it, not when you had Bucky Barnes as your boyfriend, though you had to give him credit where credit was due — he was a crafty, cunning man when it counted.

— 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐩

❤️ 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬

─── Biker!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐀 + 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Bucky was adept at making the best of a situation; a rain of bullets or his pain, it did not matter. A comedic, blasé brush off of whatever was wrong, and he was on his way. Though, that trick didn’t work on you. And you always saw straight through it.

🕯 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫; 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

─── Paramedic!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐀 + 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Battles were fought and won, ruthlessly bloody and heartbreakingly sorrowful, for all. Especially your own warrior, who put his all into the work needed on the front lines, and sometimes, he needed protection of his own.

🎅🏻 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧

─── Scare Actor!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Bucky had more than one way to scare the living daylights out of you — it wasn’t just in his job description; it was in his nature.

🎄 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥

─── Tattoo Artist!Stucky x Florist!F!Reader ── 𝐏 + 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

There was never a boring moment during the festive season with your two loves, and it was no different during one of their many visits to your shop. Only, this time, Bucky had a trick up his sleeve.

— 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐩

✨ 𝐀 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐞

─── Biker!Bucky x F!Reader ── 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

A battle raged and weapons clashed on that festive day, and only one of the two warriors would make it out alive. You were determined to make your opponent fall to his knees and beg for mercy — only then would you celebrate the victory. But first? Wade through the plight of the treacherous terrain and land that one hit.

— 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐩

❤️ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞

─── Firemen!Stucky x F!Reader ── 𝐏 + 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

You knew with absolute certainty that you meant a lot to both Bucky and Steve — to them as themselves, and to their marriage, but you did not truly understand the depth of their devotion to you, not until a frosty, chilled morning where they revealed just how much they truly adored you.

🌟 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

─── Tattoo Artist!Stucky x Florist!F!Reader ── 𝐏 + 𝐅 ─ 𝐀𝐎𝟑

A long day led to a long week, snowballing into a long, long festive season. The boys — your knights in shining armour, residing in their castle of artistry — they knew long before you yourself did, and they had an idea of how to turn it around, to bring a smile to your lips and to restore your vitality.

— 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐩

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes event #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #rookthorne's works #MB

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katiexpunk · 4 months

Text

Nightmare Before Christmas | Pairing dark!Joel Miller X Fem!Reader

This story is a gift fic for @xdaddysprincessxx as part of the @pedrostories Secret Santa event. You wanted dark and I hope I delivered. Merry Christmas, babe.

Summary: As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness. Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked. Most of the time. Tonight is not one of those times. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word Count: ~3.6K Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Tommy and Joel are not nice guys in this one. Escorting. Non-Con. Guns. Knives. Kidnapping. Spitting. Ropes. Chloroform. Alcohol. Degrading pet names. Joel calls reader kitten. Reader jumps out of moving vehicle. Blood. Rope burns. Unwanted creampie. Conflict on pleasure. Fingering. Explicit/rough penetration. Breeding kink. No major physical descriptions of reader/graphic is for visual purposes only. No specific age gap mentioned. No use of Y/N. No happy ending. Authors Note: Special thank you to @kewwrites for lending me her brain on this one. Additionally, thank you to @toxicanonymity for writing dark content that I had to binge-read to put me in the headspace to even write this lol. And thank you @sydneyinacoma for holding my hand as I wrote this one. Also submitting this as part of @romana-after-dark's Dead Dove December event. Merry Christmas? Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications Extra dark smut below the cut.

As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness.

Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked.

Most of the time.

Tonight is not one of those times.

++++

It’s Christmas Eve, and you’re in the bathroom of your sleek apartment on the twenty-fifth floor in the heart of Los Angeles, preparing for another evening of playing the part of whatever and whoever your client wants you to be.

Sometimes you’re the arm candy, sometimes the new girlfriend, and sometimes you’re just something to look at. It wasn’t always easy, not at first, but the rewards are well worth the endure.

You slept with a handful of your clients early on, only because you needed the money, but now it’s your hard line. You ensure your prospective clients know your rules before you agree to go out with them, and for the most part, they don’t try to cross them. Sure, some try, but all it takes is a quick threat of I’m leaving and they’re happy to fall back in line. You think half of them are convinced that they’re charming enough to make you break the rules, just for them, but none of them ever are.

You stand before the mirror in a chic ensemble that accentuates your curves without revealing too much. Wear something black and don’t make it trashy, his instructions said. You run your fingers through your hair and give it a final touch before fastening a pair of statement earrings that sparkle like the lights on your Christmas tree.

The gentle chime of your phone signals a new message. You pick it up, the screen illuminating your face with a soft glow. Your client for the evening, a successful entrepreneur named Tommy, confirms the details for the evening and informs you that a car will meet you at the agreed-upon location at 8:00 pm sharp.

You check the time and still have another 15 minutes. You meander over to your bar cart, pour yourself a nip of vodka over ice, and sip it while you kill time. You’re not usually nervous, but tonight feels different.

Not before long, you take a deep breath and head out the door.

++++

The night air is crisper than usual for LA this time of year, but you ride with the windows down anyway. Your destination is a trendy rooftop bar where Tommy has chosen to meet. He hasn’t told you the occasion or why he’s hired you, but your best guess is that it’s some swanky holiday party or circle jerk between a bunch of rich people.

The car pulls up to the entrance, and the driver walks around the vehicle to open the door for you. You adjust your dress with sweaty palms as you step out and head into the building.

The rooftop offers a panoramic view of the city. Much to your surprise, nobody is there, except for the waitstaff and a man far from the entrance. Tommy is seated at a corner table, engrossed in the cityscape. You approach with grace, and as Tommy turns to greet you, your eyes lock in silent acknowledgment.

The night unfolds as most of them do.

There’s nothing strange about it. He orders a bottle of Dom, and you share a meal over casual conversation. He tells you that he rented out the entire rooftop because he wanted some privacy. Which isn’t unusual, you figure he might be some high-profile figure, or maybe he’s married, but you’ve come to learn it’s best not to ask.

There’s nothing inherently different about this client than any other.

But for whatever reason, you can’t shake the pit of lead that’s settled in your stomach, and the gnawing little voice inside your head that’s screaming danger.

He touches your bare knee under the table and gives you a dark look, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise to stand. The gnawing little voice might as well be an opera singer at this point.

You clear your throat and take your phone out of your purse to check the time. Fuck. You test your luck and try to excuse yourself early anyway.

“Well, this has been lovely, but I –” you start to say, but you’re cut off by his dark eyes.

“Nuh-uh, you’re mine for another two hours, doll,” he says in a raspy low voice.

You watch as he slips a few $100 bills on the table. As he silently rises to stand, you catch a glimpse of the handgun that’s fastened on his hip beneath his suit jacket. Your pulse quickens at the sight.

You follow him to the elevator, and he presses the lobby. Standing next to you, you realize how much bigger than you he is. He’s broad and built, he looks like he could rip a phonebook in half with his bare hands.

Stay cool, stay cool, stay cool.

On the ride down, you feel him snake one hand behind you and he hikes the hem of your dress up and runs his cold fingers up the back of your thigh and over the curves of your ass.

“Tommy, I don’t sleep with my clients. Please stop,” you ask, your voice firm.

He turns to face you and cages you against the elevator wall. He’s so close, you feel his hot breath on your lips. Your eyes glance over at the screen above the numbers, and you still have another 15 floors to go until you’re at the lobby. Your stomach drops.

“You’ll do whatever I ask you to tonight, doll,” Tommy rasps, his voice cold. A shiver runs down your spine as you feel a hard metal pressed up against your ribs – the gun. “Do you understand?” he asks, not questioning.

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes, and your adrenaline courses through you like an F1 car. When you don’t respond, he presses the barrel of the gun harder into your ribs. Ow. “Better answer me now, Doll, or this isn’t gonna be fun for you,” he threatens. You manage to rasp out a shaky “I understand.”

Just as you do, the elevator signals that you’re in the lobby and the doors open. He steps back from you and you slump down the wall for a moment, utterly terrified. He nudges his head toward the exit and walks closely behind you, the gun now positioned on your lower back. There’s a dark suburban waiting at the entrance of the building.

You slip into the vehicle, the cool black leather cold on the backs of your legs, and he follows in behind you. There are three other men in the car, two in the front, and one in the far back. They’re all dressed in dark colors, most of them covered in tattoos, and you’re willing to bet that all of them are armed.

“Ooo, she’s a pretty one. We’re gonna have fun with her,” the one in the back says in a heavy voice.

“Fuck you,” you yell back, spitting on him. It lands on his face, and a terrifying look crosses it.

He wipes the spit from his eye before he grabs the gun from his side and holds it firm against your temple. Your breathing catches in your throat and your heart freezes mid-beat.

“You better behave you little cunt, or I’ll make it hurt more than I’m already going to,” he rasps and you let your eyes go glossy as you stare out the window, silent. He removes the gun from your head and sinks back into the seat.

As they drive off, you consider your options. You could fight them, you think, but that probably wouldn’t end well for you. You consider trying to grab the handgun from Tommy, but he’s so much bigger than you, that probably wouldn’t end well for you either; plus you’re not even sure you’d know how to shoot it. You could grab your phone and try to call 9-1-1, but Tommy would notice you rummaging through your purse for it.

As they’re driving, you notice that they failed to lock the doors. You’ve never kidnapped anyone, but even you know that’s a rookie mistake. You watch the road blur behind a road of tears, and then it dawns on you – your only option is to jump. You clear the tears from your eyes, set on your escape plan, and wait for the perfect moment.

Once the car is at a reasonable speed, or so you guess, you don’t know how fast you’re going, and there seems to be no car directly behind you, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You swiftly pull the door handle, and do your best imitation of a duck-and-roll.

You hit the pavement with a loud thud, and roll a few times, completely fucking up the skin on your knees and palms. Giving yourself no time to think, running on pure adrenaline, you stand up, abandon your heels, and make a run for it.

“FUCK!” Tommy yells, “God damn it, man, turn around, we gotta go get her!” he yells to the driver.

You have no idea where you are or where you can go, but you allow your legs to propel you forward.

Don’t stop, just run.

You look over your shoulder and see the suburban making a U-turn, and you assess your options once again. You see a Taxi idling in the distance. You don’t think, you just pound on the glass for a quick second before opening the door and slipping into the vehicle.

You’re panting, out of breath, and borderline hyperventilating. You scream “DRIVE, DRIVE, DRIVE.” The Taxi driver looks back at you, eyes wide, noticing the blood that’s dripping down your legs in thick streams.

“Did you hear me!? Drive, please they’re going to find me,” you scream. He turns his head back to the windshield, pulls the lever into gear, and hits the gas. The back wheels of the taxi spin out in the gravel as he deftly pulls out into the road ahead.

With your breathing still erratic, you look behind you through the rearview mirror and are pleased to find that nobody is following you.

Holy shit. You escaped.

You sit back normally in your seat and hold one hand on your heart, and the other on your stomach. You assess your hands and legs, noticing you’re covered in blood and gravel. You go to reach for your purse, but shit, you must have lost it when you jumped.

“What the hell was that about?” the taxi driver says in a raspy low tone, looking at you through the rearview mirror. You don’t respond, your hearing still muffled and ringing from the adrenaline.

He drives for a few minutes and then turns into a dark alley.

“Wh – what are you doing?” you ask, keyed up, running on fear. Your hand instinctually finds the door handle, like you might need to jump again. He unbuckles his seat belt and whips around to face you, the leather of his seat squeaking a little as he does.

He’s big, you can tell he has broad shoulders and thick biceps. Salt and pepper curls grace his head, and he has a scruffy beard to match. There’s a deep line between his eyebrows and a rugged handsomeness to him.

“You haven’t told me where you want to go, and you’re not listening to me. ‘M not driving you anywhere until you tell me what the fuck that was about. And ‘sides, you’re bleeding. Can’t have you getting blood all over the back of my car,” he says.

He turns back around and opens the driver's side door.

“Where are you going?” you ask, voice shaky. What the hell?

“‘M grabbing the damn first aid kit out of the trunk,” he retorts, a tinge of annoyance to his voice. You’re not sure why he’s being so rude in the first place. You hear the trunk pop open, the sound of ruffling like he’s grabbing something, and then the sound of the trunk slamming shut.

He rounds around to your passenger side door and opens it.

“Look I’m fine, I don’t need you to –” he shuts you up with a thick rag pressed firm against your face.

You swear you see him smirk before your vision blurs and fades to black.

++++

The air in the dimly lit basement hangs heavy with dampness, and a faint odor of mildew lingers in the stale atmosphere. As your consciousness slowly returns, you realize you’re standing and tied up against a support beam in the middle of the room.

Your wrists are bound with coarse ropes above your head in a tight knot, causing them to lose circulation. You try to wiggle yourself free, but your body is pinned firmly against the wood by ropes that also extend across your legs. You try to scream, but there’s no point. A thick strip of duct tape covers your lips, muffling even your loudest of efforts to cry out.

You frantically observe the room around you. It’s illuminated by a single flickering light bulb overhead, the walls are concrete that have been stained with age. The only audible sounds are what you assume are footsteps in the house up above. You try and wiggle yourself free, but it only exhausts you.

You float in and out of consciousness. As your eyes fall closed, you hope that when you wake up you’ll find that this was all just one big fucked up dream. A nightmare before Christmas.

++++

You awake to the sensation of cool metal on your cheek. You groggily come to, and once your vision clears, you see the face of a man – the taxi driver. Your eyes bug out and you whimper beneath the duct tape.

“Shh, shh, hush kitten,” he coos, running the flat blade of the knife over your soft cheek. “You’re okay, ‘m gonna take real good care of you, I promise.”

Hot tears well in the corners of your eyes, your eyes now bloodshot. You whimper something that sounds like a muffled “please,” under the tape and you see his pupils dilate. A devilish smirk crosses his face.

“Oh my kitten has manners, does she,” he rasps, dragging the knife down the razor edge of your jaw, over your sternum, and down the valley of your breasts. “Say it again for me,” he says. You’re a full-blown factory of tears at this point, and you muffle out another masked please. You tug on the ropes and stare back at your captor.

You flinch as he uses the knife and cuts your dress down the middle. Your perky tits spill out of the tight fabric, and he looks at them with hungry eyes. He sheaths the knife and uses his thick hands to rip the rest of the fabric off of you until you’re completely bare before him, minus the thin scrap of your underwear.

“Well shit, baby. Look at you,” he takes a step back and admires your body, bringing his hand to palm at the growing bulge in his pants.

You turn your head so you don’t have to look at him, trying to focus on something, anything but him. You hear the clanking of his metal belt unbuckling, and the faint sound of his zipper coming down. He drags his pants and underwear off of his body, and stands before you, fully hard, his large cock throbbing and red. He looks down at it and spits.

Massaging his length in one hand, he stares at you and tells you, “Look at me, kitten.”

You don’t.

A deep growl escapes his chest, and he steps closer to you. Still massaging his cock with one hand, he uses the other and grips your jaw tightly, smushing your cheeks together, forcing you to look at him. “There she is, my pretty girl, that’s better,” he taunts.

“See what you do to me?” He says, nodding down to his cock, his jaw slack. “This is what you’re gonna get for tempting me,” he darkly adds. He continues to work at his cock; to him, you may look like you’re watching him, but you’re doing your best to blur your vision, to think about anything else.

His hand leaves his cock and comes to rest on your chest with his palm flat. He trails it over your breast and cups the weight of it, rolling your nipple to a stiff peak between his index finger and thumb.

“If you promise you’ll be a good little kitten for me, I’ll make this feel good for you,” he says. All you can do is whimper and cry as he uses you.

He drags his flat palm down your body, over your tummy, and cups your pussy over your underwear, feeling the warm heat of it. He growls and hooks his fingers under the fabric until the tips of them are nudged into your slit, near your hole. He dips the tip of his middle finger into your cunt, and you flinch.

“Good little kitten, already wet for me,” he says, and then plunges the length of it inside of you. You gasp, and he smiles. He drags the length of his finger, now covered in your slick, up the seam of your pussy until it lands on your clit. He begins to draw tight circles there, and you can’t help but moan at the sensation of it.

A low growl reverberates through his chest as he works at you, his dark eyes trained on your face. You try to suppress the need to come, and he can tell. “Filthy little girl, pretending you don’t want to come for me. Go on, baby. I know you want it,” he says darkly, coaxing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

He alternates between fucking his fingers into you and rubbing your clit. You don’t want to come, but you can’t stop it. Can’t fight it. As much as you hate it, you’re at his mercy. You’re scared to admit what it might mean if you were to come under circumstances like this, but you’re so tired, you just want to feel something good. “Be a good little slut for me, kitten. Come on my fingers, know you want to,” he says, and shit. Your vision goes white, and for the first time tonight, you don’t feel anything except pleasure.

He collects the slick that’s formed as a result of your orgasm and uses it to coat his hard cock. He watches you and admires the fucked out look on your face.

“Gonna free your legs now, kitten. Don’t go getting any ideas or I’ll find another way to use my knife other than cuttin’ these ropes, got it?” he rasps. He ducks down, pulls the knife from his back pocket, and uses it to saw the ropes until you’re free before once again tucking it away.

He drags your now-soiled panties down and off your legs. You know he’s going to fuck you. And as fucked up as it is, and as much as you don’t want it, there’s a little tug at your low navel, a thread of arousal that tells you otherwise.

He uses his hands to grab your hips and he tugs at them until your back is slightly arched against the beam. Your wrists hurt, the harsh rope burning your skin, but it pales in comparison to the thick stretch of him in your cunt.

He fills you in one thrust, giving you no time to adjust to the size of him. He holds you up, your legs wrapped firmly against his core, and he fucks into you. He fucks you hard, his thick cock punching against your cervix with nearly every thrust. You whimper from the intensity of it.

“That noise…keep making it,” he begs, his voice wrecked. You fight your hardest to stay silent after hearing that. “Need to know, kitten – are you on birth control? IUD? Anything?” he asks, and you think if you tell him the truth, maybe he won’t come inside of you. Stupid, stupid mistake. You shake your head “No,” and he groans.

His hips slow and stutter. “Fuck, fuck – yeaaaahhhh, kitten. Fuck, you’re mine,” he pauses with himself buried to the hilt deep inside of you as he pumps his seed deep inside of you.

“So good for me, kitten. You’re so good,” he says, caressing your cheek with his thumb, still inches deep inside of you. He rips the duct tape off your lips in one swoop, the tearing sensation causes your eyes to water. He plants a soft kiss on your lips, before biting your bottom lip hard enough to bleed.

“Taste good, too,” he adds, licking your blood off of his lips.

He pulls out, leaving you completely wrecked, and his cum smears all over your thighs.

“Names Joel by the way,” he says, his voice impossibly dark, “just thought you might wanna know the name of the man who’s gonna make you a mother.”

END

Please follow @katiexpunkupdates to get notified when I post fics.xx

#pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift23 #dark joel miller #dead dove do not eat #dark tommy miller #deaddovedecember2023 #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #dark smut #tw noncon #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader

626 notes · View notes

oceane4loveu · 5 months

Note

can you make a guide on it girl christmas

Dream girl winter

External glow

hydration

drink plenty of water to avoid dehydration, use products rich in ingredients such as hyalurinic acid, glycerin and ceramides which strengthen your skin's natural moisture barrier. In winter give priority to the product which gives priority hydration and nutrition of the skin. Don't forget to moisturize your lips and protect your skin with a broad-spectrum sunscreen offering at least SPF 30.

shower routine

Your shower routine literally determines how you smell throughout the day. Find a signature scent and find suitable products. I love the products from Sol de Janeiro, Dove and Philosophy. You can also use the ordinary glycolic acid as a deodorant personally I only use it twice a week and I use a deodorant from Dove. Do a body scrub every week to get rid of dead skin. I recommend the one from Tree Hut which is good too. Use a body lotion and also a scented mist.

take care of yourself

take a day to take care of your nails, your hairstyle to do your eyelashes etc. you can also go to a spa to have a massage or something else. really take advantage of this day to have fun, rest and make yourself beautiful.

workout

you don't need to spend hours at the gym, invest 20 to 30 minutes of your day to move your body every day. you can find workout videos on YouTube of 30 min,I also recommend the 5000 step workout.

Makeup

start by applying your moisturizer before putting on makeup, then use a foundation with a dewy finish, put on concealer, brow tint or clear brow gel, mascara, For the blush, opt for a creamy blush Because the creamy finish will give you glow,Don't forget the nourishing lip gloss or lip oil to make lips shiny and vibrant.

Diet

use the 80/20 rule this rule suggests focusing on a healthy and balanced diet 80% of the time and treating yourself the remaining 20% example

Internal glow

inner self care

journals and practices meditation. Take a moment for yourself every day to write down your thoughts, relax and chase away negative thoughts.

7+ hour of sleep

give your body the rest it needs, give yourself at least 7 hours of restful sleep each night to allow your skin to repair and regenerate.

read books

Read books that entertain you, inspire you, and help you become better. you can also listen to podcasts or audiobooks.

social media detox

take a step back, limit your time on social media and focus on what really matters. put your phone on do not disturb mode and try doing an activity like cooking, knitting or something you enjoy.

Romantizing life

winter vision board

use Pinterest to find images that match your aesthetic, winter looks, fun activities, anything that makes you happy. Then create a vision board that you can put as your wallpaper.

Winter bucket list

now make your bucket list. write down all the activities and experiences you want to have during this winter. check off each activity as you accomplish them to feel proud.

create your playlist

create a playlist with songs that make you feel good, happy and that match your aesthetic.

romantizing life technique

enjoy cups of hot chocolate while watching your favorite series or movie, listen to your playlist while you walk, take photos of the landscape or make a mini blog of your days, spend time with your family, cook with your friends or alone, organize cozy evenings, take care of yourself and create good memories.

New year

set yourself goals

Take your time to write down all your goals for the new year. These should be achievable goals that you know you can actually achieve. Visualize yourself achieving all of your goals and working towards them throughout the year.

Life vision board

create a vision board for the new year. use images, quotes and words to represent what you want to accomplish and how you want to feel throughout the year. look at the board every day to stay motivated and focused on your goals.

#dream life #dream girl #high maintenance #it girl energy #self development #self love #it girl #becoming that girl #self care #winter girls #winter #dream girl tips #best version of yourself #best version #main character #self confidence #that girl #clean girl

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shadowtriovibes · 4 months

Text

mind if i move in closer?

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Word Count: 2.8k

Rating: PG

Summary: sickeningly sweet christmas fic, loosely a continuation of the potioneer's apprentice (not necessary to have read to read this!)

“Do you want to borrow my scarf?” you ask him, teasingly preening as he glances over his shoulder at your new accessory. “It’s charmed to keep you warm.” Sebastian frowns. “Who sent you that? Ominis?” “No,” you say, throwing one of the scarf’s long ends across your shoulder. “Just this handsome fellow in Hogsmeade who’s grown quite fond of me.”

December 25, 1891

Christmas morning at Hogwarts is a surprisingly quiet affair.

Having spent many of your formative Christmas mornings in a Muggle boarding school before arriving at Hogwarts, you’ve grown accustomed to waking up to the sounds of eager whispers and excited squeals as the handful of holiday holdovers awoke to find a small array of presents laid out for them. Gifts were usually provided by the kindly heads of house who’d remained at the school during the break – many of whom were just as lonely as the children they watched.

A few oranges and sweets here and there, some secondhand books, perhaps a wooden puzzle for them all to share… It was always lovely, even during leaner years.

Of course, Christmas at Hogwarts was spectacular – massive fir trees decorated with floating baubles and shining ribbons lined the corridors, beautiful music drifted down from the Bell Tower, and the annual feast on Christmas Eve teemed with seemingly endless platters of food.

Your first holiday season at Hogwarts hadn’t been lonely at all. With Ranrok still at large and dozens of poacher camps causing trouble throughout the Highlands, many students chose to spend their Christmas at Hogwarts rather than risking the lengthy train ride back to London or hiking out to their family homes in nearby hamlets.

This year, however, there were only two Slytherins who remained in the castle over the winter break: you and Sebastian.

While the two of you had each been quietly pleased to learn that the other would be staying, you’d both been surprised to learn that even Ominis would be departing to spend Christmas with his family, per their demand. Before he left, he’d darkly insisted that he’d bet a fistful of Galleons that he’d be back before New Year’s Day if his brothers had anything to say about it.

While Ominis sulked, Sebastian had been the one to explain to you that the older pure blood families, many of whom shared your house, are especially traditional during the holidays.

Or, as he’d so bluntly put it, “All the posh ones will be traveling somewhere warmer, and even the snooty half-bloods don’t want to leave their little sprogs here with all the orphans and the impoverished.”

“That’s lovely,” you grumbled.

He’d merely shrugged and smirked, “At least we’ll have the run of the place.”

Christmas Eve dinner, at least, had been fairly lively thanks to a handful of younger Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors who delighted in joining hands and pulling open wizard crackers. Sebastian had insisted you keep the wizard’s chess set he’d received, as yours had contained a live turtle dove that had promptly flown off to roost in the rafters.

(Professor Black, who had also stayed over the holidays, declined Professor Weasley’s invitation to join the holdovers in the Great Hall, which Sebastian insists was the best gift he could have possibly received.)

The pair of you spent the rest of the evening in the common room, taking turns sipping from a bottle of spiced apple brandy Sebastian had managed to charm out of Sirona’s hands during your last trip to Hogsmeade. By the time you’d wobbled up the stairs to the seventh-year dormitories, you’d been unable to stop giggling while Sebastian walked you to your door.

“Get some rest,” he’d laughed, his cheeks flushed red from the alcohol. “Father Christmas can’t bring you presents if you’re still awake, can he?”

“Father Christmas, hm?” you ask, rolling your eyes. “It’s just the two of us, Sebastian. I think he’ll pass over the Slytherin common room this year.”

Something secret sparkled in his eyes, but he said nothing as you opened the door to your room.

Just as you’d turned around to say goodnight, Sebastian leaned in close and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Happy Christmas,” he mumbled. “See you in the morning.”

Before you could even exhale, he’d quickly made his way up the opposite steps to his room and firmly shut his door behind him. You felt warm all over as you’d changed into your nightwear and climbed into bed – not just from the brandy, you’re sure.

But when you wake up… There’s nothing but silence.

The fire across the room is muted with its usual silencing charms, the popping and cracking of the firewood kept quiet while you slept. There are no roommates eager to open gifts, no smells of Christmas treats like roasted ham or cinnamon pastries cooking in the dormitory kitchens down the hall, which you’d cherished in your old schools.

…But at the foot of your bed, you find a small pile of presents.

You smile to yourself as you sit up and rub your eyes, half expecting the delicate boxes wrapped in bright paper and gently curling ribbons to dissolve away as your vision comes into focus. When they remain, you dare to gingerly pull one into your lap, tracing your fingertips over the crisp paper wrappings.

The first parcel is from Augustus Hill, who’d sent over a fine woolen scarf charmed to remain warm and dry even if it collects falling snowflakes that melt against its magical heat. It’s a deep forest green and is wonderfully soft, and you can’t resist wrapping it across your shoulders as you reach for a second gift.

From your potions master Parry Pippin, you receive a fine set of measuring spoons made of polished copper – much more attractive and precise than the brushed pewter spoons you’d ordered from a supply shop in Diagon Alley.

Professor Weasley had even gifted you a box of stationery supplies that contained a set of quills, a few rolls of parchment, and even a pot of ink. A practical gift to be sure, but thoughtful (and quite generous, you think).

Your favorite gift is from Ominis, who’d sent a box of French candies with magical molten centers from a wizarding confectionary shop in Paris, where his family always visits for the holidays. Inside he’d tucked a note insisting that Sebastian had been sent his own box as well and you were not to let him coax you into sharing yours. You’d fondly rolled your eyes before pinning it to your ever-growing collection of correspondences affixed to the wall beside your bed.

Of course, you can’t resist treating yourself to a piece of candy or two while you change into a simple dressing robe and freshen yourself in the wash basin beside the fireplace. One tastes like cherries and brings a delightful pink flush to your cheeks and lips, and the other tastes like nougat and makes you whistle like a songbird while you pull back your hair into a loose braid.

By the time you wander downstairs, Sebastian is already poking at the common room fireplace, cursing under his breath.

“Happy Christmas, Seb,” you call out, tucking your dressing robe tighter around your waist.

“Happy Christmas,” he mumbles distractedly. “It’s bloody freezing in here.”

You smile to yourself as you take a seat on the cozy settee across from the fireplace. Sebastian has managed to rustle up some extra firewood, undoubtedly from one of the empty boys’ dormitories, to ward off the chill of the common room.

“Do you want to borrow my scarf?” you ask him, teasingly preening as he glances over his shoulder at your new accessory. “It’s charmed to keep you warm.”

Sebastian frowns. “Who sent you that? Ominis?”

“No,” you say, throwing one of the scarf’s long ends across your shoulder. “Just this handsome fellow in Hogsmeade who’s grown quite fond of me.”

To your delight, Sebastian’s frown deepens. “What? Who?”

“Oh, you’ve met him,” you answer, feigning indifference. “He’s rather posh, very stylish, always dressed impeccably… You and I saved him from a troll once, if you recall.”

Sebastian bites the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning when he finally catches wind of your little ruse. “Ah, I see. Just playing one of your little games with me.”

“You make it far too easy,” you tease him, unraveling your scarf and gently draping it across his broad shoulders. “There, that ought to warm you up.”

(Immediately your mind starts to wander off as it conjures up images of how else you might warm up your unfairly handsome friend, but you’re quick to chastise it into silence.)

“You’re too kind, love,” he says, that ever-present smirk still on his lips.

Both of you are silent for several long moments while you hang on to the ends of the scarf, staring up into his warm brown eyes. His gaze dips down to your mouth when you bite your lip, and just as you’re about to ask him if he’d like to walk you to the Great Hall for breakfast, he blurts out, “I have a gift for you.”

“You – a gift?” you ask dumbly. “For me?”

“Of course,” he says softly. “Er, I should warn you that it’s nothing big, but… I wanted you to have it, so…”

He trails off quietly, fidgeting with the sleeve of his robe.

“I have a gift for you too,” you admit. “I left it upstairs. Can I go get it for you?”

“S-sure,” he stutters. “You bought me a gift?”

“Don’t be daft, Sallow,” you tease him. “I made you a gift.”

With that you turn on your heel and march back up the stairs to your dormitory, snagging the delicate potion bottle shaped like a cloud with an indigo ribbon wrapped around its neck. You gingerly turn it over in your hands, watching as the light purple draught inside swirls around languidly.

Downstairs, Sebastian waits for you with a small box tucked behind his back. He looks slightly nervous, you think, so you decide to offer him your gift first.

“Alright,” you say as you take a seat. “First, let me just say that I had Mister Pippin check this to make sure I did everything right, and he said it’s perfectly fine.”

(In fact, Pippin had said you’d done a brilliant job, but you don’t want to oversell yourself before Sebastian has had a chance to try your brew.)

Sebastian eyes the glass bottle as you offer it to him, gently turning it over in his hands.

“You made this?” he asks softly, and then he grins and asks, “Did Weasley help you at all? Because I already learned my lesson with his ‘Fizzing Whizzbeer,’ thank you very much.”

“No,” you insist, biting back a laugh as you remember Sebastian chugging a bottle of Garreth’s experimental brew and being stuck levitating a few feet above the ground for an entire afternoon. “No, I made this just for you.”

“What’s it do?” he asks curiously.

“Well, it’s… it’s a sleeping draught, sort of,” you say softly. “It’s got lavender for comfort, and valerian springs for restful sleep, but I added cinnamon and a bit of shrivelfig to create peaceful dreams.”

Sebastian slowly tips the bottle back and forth, watching the thin liquid dance around the bottle. “Peaceful, hm?”

You’ve known about his nightmares for a while now. He doesn’t like to talk about them often, but he’s admitted that since that day in the Catacombs, he’s hardly slept a full night without being plagued by visions of those damned Inferi, of his uncle’s limp body, of Anne’s face…

The bleary eyes and wan expression he sometimes wears to breakfast after a particularly hard night tell you everything you needed to know, and you’ve spent the last several weeks visiting Hogsmeade after class to work with Mister Pippin to create your own special draught. Not dreamless sleep, but better sleep.

“I just thought… that you deserve to have some good dreams,” you mumble.

The corner of Sebastian’s mouth quirks up. “I do have good dreams, sometimes.”

(You miss the way he glances over at you, raking his gaze down the length of your body. You miss how it lingers where your dressing robe has fallen open a bit, showing off the delicate neckline of the thin chemise you’re wearing underneath.)

“O-oh,” you stammer. “W-well, I suppose now you can… have more.”

You frown disappointedly until Sebastian rests his warm hand on your knee, gently holding the bottle against his chest with his other.

“Thank you,” he says. “Really, I can’t believe you made this just for me. Merlin, it’s… it’s a perfect gift.”

His gaze is heated, and intense, and something about it makes you want to squirm, so instead you breathily ask, “May I have my gift?”

Sebastian holds your gaze as he slowly nods, only letting it break it when he turns to grab the box he’d hidden behind himself. With trembling hands you lift the lid to find a small silver badge inside, reverently tucked inside a nest of tissue paper.

Your hands go still.

“Sebastian, is – is this…?” you whisper.

“My family’s crest,” he murmurs. “You’ve seen it once before, in our fifth year.”

Gently, you lift the crest out of the box and cradle it in your hands. The heat from your skin quickly starts to warm the cool metal, and you trace your fingertips over the “S” hammered into the center of the badge.

“What – how–” you stutter.

“Earlier this year, Anne sent it back to me,” he explains softly, watching with dark eyes as you pour over the symbols that adorn the crest: a cauldron, a flowering tree, a pair of crossed daggers, and a crescent moon.

“Why?” you whisper.

“I’m still not sure,” Sebastian says hollowly. “She just sent the crest, with no letter. But if I had to guess, I think… I think she wanted me to know that she’s safe, but not where she is. Not yet.”

You clutch the crest against your breast. “Oh, Sebastian…”

“It’s okay,” he says, his voice going rough. “It’s – that’s what it’s for, the crest. I gave it to her to keep her safe, and she gave it back to… to tell me that she’s alright. If that’s all she wants me to know, then… then it’s enough.”

You shift closer to him on the couch, the flickering fire casting dancing shadows along the side of his face.

“Why are you giving it to me?” you ask him curiously. “It’s beautiful, Sebastian, but – isn’t it important to you? To your family?”

He swallows nervously. “I don’t… have a family anymore. Not really. Anne is out there somewhere, safe without me, but… you and Ominis, you’re my only family now.”

You let the crest fall to your lap before you throw your arms around Sebastian, burying your face against that warm scarf of yours he’s still wearing. You don’t have the words to say how much this gift means to you, but you think he understands when he wraps his arms around you, skimming one of his large palms up and down the length of your back.

“It kept Anne safe, and – and now it will keep you safe,” he murmurs. “I don’t… I’m not sure you understand how much you mean to me. I need you to be safe.”

“S’bst’n,” you mumble into his shoulder. “Y’re m’vry’th’n.”

He laughs softly and asks, “Sorry, what was that?”

You pull back just enough to press your lips against the shell of his ear, knowing that if you meet his eyes you’ll never have the courage to tell him how you’ve truly felt about him since your fifth year.

“I said, ‘Sebastian, you’re my everything.’”

Then the hand he’d cupped around the back of your head slides down, down, until he nudges his thumb along your jaw to coax you out of your little hiding place. His eyes are so dark, and the soft whine he lets out before he crushes his lips to yours is all the warning you get, but then… then he’s kissing you.

“Seb,” you gasp into his mouth, and then he lightly tugs on the tie around your waist until you shift yourself halfway onto his lap. It feels like hours go by just like that, just the two of you alternating between lazy, curious kisses and frantic, needy surges every time one of you lets slip another heated confession.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”“You taste incredible.”“I don’t ever want to stop doing this.”

Eventually, you let your head rest on Sebastian’s shoulder while he trails soft kisses from the hinge of your jaw down to your shoulder and back. He’s ravenous, he’d told you himself, but it’s not until his stomach growls loudly between your bodies that you even remember that other type of hunger.

“We’ll miss breakfast if we don’t leave soon,” you whine.

“Let’s stay here,” he murmurs against your neck. “We can eat those chocolates you got from Ominis for breakfast.”

“That’s… tempting,” you sigh distractedly, and then you pause.

Leaning back, you quirk a brow and ask, “Sorry, the chocolates I got from Ominis?”

“Well, sure,” Sebastian says smoothly. “He sent me a book on cursebreaking, but I can taste fancy chocolate on your lips, so I assumed…”

“You filthy liar, Sebastian Sallow,” you laugh, throwing your head back. “He warned me you’d try to talk me out of my sweets!”

“To be fair, that’s hardly the only thing I’ll try to talk you out of,” he drawls, sliding his hands down to your hips. “Namely this robe of yours…”

“Scoundrel,” you croon, leaning down for another hungry kiss.

(Ominis’ chocolates make a decent breakfast, even if half of them melt by the fire, ignored entirely while Sebastian makes good on his suggestion regarding your robe.)

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian x mc #sebastian x you #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #my fic #HEY GUESS WHO WROTE SOMETHING!!!#THE EVIL [my anxiety] IS DEFEATED [for now]

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oceantornadoo · 5 months

Text

a ghost lives

price came to your door and told you simon was killed in action. three months later, who's that at your door step?

angsty but turns smutty. happy ending dw :)

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“no.”

you slammed the door, hands shaking. “no, no, no. it’s not possible.” your shaking hands raised to your cheeks, clawing. tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision. the door opened, a dark figure walking through it. you flinched, taking steps backwards until your back hit the wall. you kept shaking your head, murmuring “no, no, no” without sound. you slid down the wall, staring at the man in front of you.

simon was in shambles. the moment he was medically cleared he had jumped on the next plane home, not bothering to tell anyone. he needed to see you, to hold everything he held dear, to believe in good again. and instead of a warm welcome, instead of your customary jump and kiss, you were breaking down. he didn’t understand it. what did he do wrong?

“love? it’s me. i’m home.” he said almost stupidly, unsure of his next move. he closed the door and locked it, and you flinched again. you were sitting on the floor now, tears running down your face with your head in your hands. he set his bag down gently, not wanting to spook you. he ripped off his mask and gloves, tucking them away. you gasped, finally making eye contact.

“you’re not real. you died. my husband died three months ago. you’re in my imagination. please, just go away.” you pleaded, prayed. price had come to your doorstep three months ago, hat in his hands, tears in his eyes. he talked about a difficult enemy and unfair terrain. the only word you heard was “k.i.a.” you died that day, and had been a breathing ghost ever since.

simon was in shock. he had left the hospital so quickly that he had never talked to his unit, didn’t know what they told you. he dropped to his knees, your pain flowing through him tenfold. “i didn’t die, love. i was just lost. i survived for two months in the woods until they found me. i was so badly injured i had to be treated by foreign operatives. price doesn’t even know, i thought they told him. i’m so sorry. i am so, so sorry. i’m here.” you shook your head at his every word. your nightmares were terrifying, but this was the worst one yet. you had never hallucinated in broad daylight. his familiar scent of musk and that cologne you bought him last christmas wafted through the air, punishing you.

“i don’t believe you. you’re not real. i buried you.” you couldn’t afford to hope. the last months had been about survival, and you had just started eating regularly without bursting into tears, imagining simon cooking his famous meat pie in your kitchen. “casket was empty, lovie. i’m going to touch you now. i need you to know i’m here.” he reached his hand out slowly, like he was approaching a feral cat. you flinched again, breaking another piece of his heart and burying it like that empty casket. his fingertips brushed your cheek and your mouth dropped, tears stopping.

“si? tell me this is real. convince me.” he maneuvered over until his knees touched yours, bringing you down to earth. you couldn’t believe him. your ghost was alive. there was no way. maybe you had too many melatonin gummies last night.

“look, dove.” he pulled up his shirt, showing you new scars. you had his scars memorized, mapped down to the millimeter, and you would never dream of him being hurt more. he showed you his bandages, moving your fingers over the wrapped bullet hole. he grimaced and you gasped. you would never wish for simon to be in pain, so the fact that he was meant…

you flung yourself at him, shedding new tears. “you’re here, you’re really here. you’re alive.” he nodded against your shoulder. you hear a small meow and drew your head back, looking at riley jr., your ball of fur. she padded over softly and nuzzled her head against simon’s knee, drawing a short laugh from him as he scratched behind her ears. through all of your nightmares, riley jr. had never acknowledged your ghosts. which meant simon was real. which meant he was alive.

“i’m here.” he kissed your forehead, brushing back your hair. “i’m here.” he kissed between your eyebrows, smoothing the creases there. “i’m alive.” he kissed your tears away, drying your face. “i’m never leaving, dove.” he kissed your nose, finally drawing a small smile out of your. “i’m home.” he kissed your lips, and you kissed back fervently. your husband was home and alive and here. “simon, i’ve missed you. you have no idea. i died that day. i’ve been waiting to join you ever since.” he shook his head as tears rolled down his face. “be ready to wait another 70 years, love. we’re alive.” you tackled him again, pushing him down on the ground. you kissed him with the passion that had been gone for the last three months, cracked and dried out inside you. you climbed on top of him, needing to feel him, needing to believe.

you grinded your hips against his, drawing out a low moan. “let me inside. let me show you i’m alive.” he said, still not convinced you believed him. you nodded, overcome with love for the man beneath you. he rubbed his palm against your clit, rocking you as you kissed. you hadn’t even thought of sex in the last three months, and it had somehow built up to this. you were instantly wet, always ready for your simon. you felt his hardness underneath you as he bucked his hips. you unzipped his pants, taking him out, long and heavy in your hands. he pulled aside your shorts and you sunk down on him with a low moan. “my husband. my simon. you’re alive.” you finally, truly believed it. he bucked into you, the friction of his clothes stimulating your clit. “my wife and her beautiful cunt, sucking me in. look at you.” there were dried tears on your face, sweaty clothes clung to your body, and your cunt squelched with every thrust. you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. you were so pretty, even when you cried.

he flipped you both over, fucking into you hard on the floor. his hand wrapped around your head, protecting it from bumping. “i’m back because no one could ever fuck you like this. no one as good as me. say it.” he ordered, needing reassurance. “no one as good as you, si. no one will ever be you.” you moaned, your orgasm building up, with something behind it. he sucked your neck and pinched your nipples, reminding your body of how good it felt to be owned by him. “come on, dove. come for me.” you felt so wet and achy, your emotions out of control. his voice was the only thing keeping you conscious. you felt stuffed, full of your husband. “come on, my dirty girl. let me fill you up. my welcome home gift.” you gasped as you came, a tingling sensation following it. you looked down as you squirted on simon’s cock, so overwhelmed. he came, the juices mixing, trailing down your holes. “gonna give you a baby so you won’t ever leave. we’re never leaving each other, yeah?” he grasped your hair and pulled you in for a kiss.

“never, simon. i’m yours.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon riley wife #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #angst with a happy ending #tornadothoughts

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calliopesdiary · 4 months

Text

“Super Boy and the Invisible Girl”

based on; superboy and the invisible girl from next to normal!

summary; fem!potter!reader knows while her parents love her, that james will always be their favorite. leaving her wishing she were invisible… until remus lupin comes along.

warnings; just fluff and angst, reader is a potter, reader x remus lupin, cussing here and there, james being oblivious, sirius black being a prick, reader is a ravenclaw, reader struggles with eating, one use of y/n, (i tried guys 😭)

a/n; came up with this idea on holiday! hope you all enjoy 🥐

not proofread or edited

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superboy and the invisible girl

Home for the holidays with the Potters were no joke, bright christmas trees decorated every corner. light tinsel strung across each fireplace. mistletoe hung on the doorways. christmas lights hung on the exterior of the house. but for you, it never felt like “home for the holidays”, it felt more like; solitude for the holidays.

You knew your parents loved you, make so mistake of that. it was just depressing to be able to tell that your parents did indeed have a favorite child. James, The golden child, he could truly do no wrong in their eyes. He was seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, than there was you, who could only stand to the sides. Story of your life, really. You often wondered what it’d be like to be able to magically appear and disappear whenever she pleased. which— she could practically do if she didn’t talk at all at family gatherings. it felt like your entire family preferred James, it was all; “how’s James’ studies?” or “We are just so proud of James, i mean— he’s a seeker for Gryffindor! couldn’t be prouder, really”. it didn’t bother you— most gatherings, but Christmas at home was just… different

Maybe it was the fact whenever you asked your parents if you’re friends could come for a change, but they would always apologize and explain that they had already spoken with James about his friends coming over, typical.

Maybe it was that you really couldn’t stand Sirius or Peter. but something about Remus was calming, not sure what, but he was much sweeter and calmer than the other three.

“James!!” Euphemia squealed as she practically jumped into him. “Hi, Mom” James’ dazzling smile was annoying to you, but absolutely adorable to Effie. She hugged his friends closely, like they were her own children. and then, You walked into your own house, and all you got was: “Hi sweetie, missed you” She pecked your forehead and smiled, before walking off too soon to ask about Quidditch or his grades, leaving you to stand in the doorway and peer at your house as you slowly traveled up the stairs and went to hide in your room. It was nicely decorated, besides— it’s not like you had much help. You flopped down on your bed, finally allowing the melancholy tears roll down your cheeks, not soon before wiping them away.

he’s a hero, a lover, a prince. shes not there.

You heard a quiet knock on your door. “Come in.” You called, hearing the door to your bedroom creak open softly. “Hey… I just came to drop this off.” Remus held his hand out with a small box resting on his palm. “Who’s this for?” You snickered, gently taking the box. “Well… you, of course” He admitted shyly, “Oh…” You seemed surprised, to his confusion. “You look surprised?” He chuckled softly at your puzzled expression. “I’m not. It’s just— people don’t really give me gifts. But I appreciate it. a lot” He simply smiled, and nodded a soft goodbye, retiring to his own room to presumably unpack. You on the other hand, carefully tore open the package he had given to you, placing the ribbon down gently on the side table. The tiny box revealed a small necklace with a small crystal on the end and a note reading;

“Ive noticed you tend to be forgotten, but I finally thought of something to possibly make you smile.

Happy Christmas, Dove.

Remus”

You smiled— obviously. Possibly the sweetest note you had ever received, not that you received many, But it was special nonetheless. You assumed that Euphemia was probably making dinner. You detested eating in public, it scared you. people watching you while you ate? watching how much you were eating? living hell.

You knew you couldn’t get yourself out of this one. Besides, if not Remus, someone would’ve called you out for it, whether it was your oblivious brother or Sirius mocking you for it, someone would. You quickly slid on some “acceptable” clothes and quietly walked down the staircase, before running back up to clip on the necklace Remus had given you.

“Hi, Dad” You mustered up some sort of smile, not really meaning it but attempting it for him. “hm? Oh! y/n. lovely to see you, dear.” Fleamont replied, clearly occupied chattering with Sirius about recent Quidditch strategies. You sighed, sliding into your usual seat, which was luckily next to Remus. What was this connection you felt with him? probably just comfort, atleast— you hoped. James would go ballistic if you and Remus liked eachother, even if he barely paid any mind to you, he’d still care. eventually, Effie served dinner. It was an array of different meats and vegetables and such. Yet you didn’t grab much, “Are you gonna get any more?” Asked Remus, having a worried expression on his scarred face. “I’m not really hungry.” You answered, “Oh.” He shrugged, he didn’t think much of it, just girls being girls. You ate your tiny portion and opted to say at the table rather than leave, maybe your parents would ask how your studies were.

Fleamont cleared his throat. “So, Boys. How’s everything been going at school this semester?” You narrowed your eyes, taking a sip of water so you didn’t spat something out you’d regret. “Good, so far atleast. Slytherins usually get in the way of enjoyment.” Sirius stated, while you felt your blood boil since you were good friends with some Slytherins, including his own brother, Regulus Black. “Well that’s typical. What about Quidditch? Wins for Gryffindor?” He placed some more food in his mouth. “Won every games this season, Slytherin plays bloody dirty, and the Ravenclaws are to busy shoving their heads in books to be any good.” James replied, knowing full well you were a Ravenclaw, but he must’ve just forgotten that you were there. “They should read some books about Quidditch.” Sirius snickered. “Detentions this semester?” Effie added. “No.. Course not.” Peter blatantly lied. “But we have played some bloody brilliant pranks on Slytherin this year.” Sirius added. “Thats how it’s done, boys!” Fleamont laughed.

I wish i could fly, I’d fly far away from here.

You’d felt it coming, the word vomit. after hours of silence from you, you finally spoke up.

“What about me?” You asked, The entire table falling silent.

“What about you?” Sirius snickered, as did James.

“I- I just didn’t hear that anyone wished to know about how my school year went.” You were done with silence. “Why would we? you probably just sat in your dorm, reading.” James snarled, going back to his food. “So it doesn’t matter that I made top marks?” You inquired, “That’s great, love. But your brother has won Gryffindor wins recently and—“ You cut her off quickly. “And you haven’t gotten a chance to hear him brag for 3 months? forgive me.” You started defensively. “I’m sorry, but i’m not going to sit here and listen to you ask James and his friends how they are and how their studies are when nobody bothers to ask me the entire night.” You absolutely knew that you felt angry, it was just your first time speaking out on the matter. “Quit lashing out, you’re being disrespectful.” Fleamont stared daggers into you. “You know, atleast James has the guts to not pretend to actually love me.” You took a sip of your water while everyone else gasped and took glances at eachother. “How dare you!” James started. “I just want to know why you guys only care about James? what did I do?” You asked, with small tears filling your eyes.

“Oh, Honey. You’re not pretty enough to be this stupid.” Sirius spat

slience.

superboy and the invisible girl

he’s the one you wish would appear

he’s your hero, forever your son.

than there’s me.

You sat up and bolted off, real tears filling your eyes this time. How fucking could he? Time had felt like it froze for the solid hour you spent outside your house sobbing, wondering if they regretted anything. You wondered yourself if you regretted you had said, but you didn’t feel guilty, you felt betrayed. You tried so hard to not believe him, yet you did. The rose bushes swallowed you whole as you laid in the soft grass, sobbing quietly as you heard several people walk past you, attempting to find you. until Remus hovered over you, “Dove, your hiding spots are getting all too simple.” He smirked, clearly attempting to lighten the mood. You sniffed, rolling onto your side to continue your crying. “Shh… Dovie, I hate seeing you cry…” He crouched down to your level, wrapping his arms around your midriff and pulling you up to him as you cried. “It’s okay, baby… everything’s okay… nobody’s mad… please…” He whispered sweet nothings into your ears as his warmth eased your crying. “It’s like the minute James is in the room, nobody cares about me anymore.” You were shaking softly. “They love you, Dove. I love you.” Remus kissed the top of your forehead. “You don’t mean that.” You stated, seeming quite sure of yourself. “I do, please.” He sounded so reassuring, like you could trust in at all costs. “I- Is James mad at me?” You asked, unsure of yourself. “Not anymore, I’m pretty sure Effie talked to him, but I came to find you.” He shrugged, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have lashed out.. it’s just— I cant stand to be forgotten time after time again.” You admitted, blushing softly as he gently pressed you against him. “Everyone understands, Dove. I think they’d like to apologize.” He grinned at her, since her tears had stopped. “You hungry?” He asked, pulling out chocolate from his jacket pocket. “I don’t know if I really need that—“ You started to protest. “Nonsense, eat.” He practically force-fed you the chocolate. “Thank you.” You giggled softly. “And i think you might need this, too.” He pecked your lips, leaving you speechless. “I could never forget you.” He stood up and practically ran off. “Remus Lupin!” You yelled, darting after him

Looks like someone finally remembered you.

end ☁️

#marauders era #remus lupin #sirius black #fem!reader #marauders #james potter #peter pettigrew #reader #remus lupin x reader #angst with a happy ending #superboy and the invisible girl #potter!reader

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normal-internet-user · 6 months

Text

For you, Niyah- I was ✨️inspired✨️

HEY, LOVER

~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~

Summary: Donnie would never allow his darling to be touch starved.

Warnings: None. Fluffy couple stuffs

Requested: Nah

GN Reader!

....................................

"What's with that face?" Donnie asks softly, glancing over at you from where he was sitting at his worktable.

"What face?" You ask dismissively, "I don't make a face."

In truth you were, infact, making a face. It wasn't your fault though! You wanted to cuddle, but Donnie was busy and you didn't want to bother him about it.

So you sat in your designated chair and made a face.

"No, you do. You definitly make a face, dove." Donnie says, pushing up his goggles, "I'm watching you do it right now. What's wrong?"

You pout, and it takes your purple clad lover about .1 seconds to realize what you want. He leans back in his chair with a sigh, holding out his arms, "Come here, my darling." He says softly.

With a big smile on your face, you move over to sit in his lap, and he wraps his arms around your waist. You press your foreheads together and Donnie looks up at you with an amused smile.

"Better?" He asks small laugh.

"Much." You whisper back with a content smile when you rest your head on his shoulder.

....................................

Ta-da! All done, and for you, @sweaterrat ! Hope you like :)

This is actually the first fic I've posted in a while. Jeepers. I have alot of Christamas one saved up lolzies. I'm trying SO HARD not to rush into the Christmas stuff cus its still NOVEMBER-

#normie writes #donnie x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt #tmnt x reader #x reader #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #tmnt 2018 #donnie x reader fluff

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inkdrinkerworld · 5 months

Note

best friends to lovers with sirius x reader PLEASEE love the touchy bsf james fics sm

I’m making this touchy bsf!sirius and shy!reader!!

Something about being close to Sirius amps up your shyness. It doesn’t help that you’re always together because your friend circles overlap.

Right now, you’re hosting early Christmas dinner for all your friends because they’re all off to their family- everyone but you and Sirius ironically, but you’re trying not to focus on that too much.

“Poppet!” Sirius’ call echos through your apartment and finds you in the kitchen where you’re taking your bread out the oven.

“In the kitchen Siri,” you say, not quite a shout but loud enough for him to hear. Your heart speeds up when you hear the click clack of his boots on your flooring.

“Happy early Christmas,” he says quietly, setting the bottles of mead, spiked eggnog (a recipe he had begged your mother to teach him many Christmases past), and sorrel.

His hands, now free, find your hips as you set the loaves on cooling racks.

“Happy early Christmas,” you echo, trying not to freak out at his proximity. It’s not unwanted and it’s been freely doled out to you for years, but you still can’t help but feel giddy and shy under his touch. Or his gaze, or well, just anything Sirius really.

“D’you need help with anything, poppet?” He asks, his cold rings running up your hip as he waits for your response.

“Can you pull the biscuits from the fridge? They’re the last thing to bake.”

Sirius nods, leaving you quickly and in the space of time it takes, all your friends come tumbling into your house.

James with the ham, Remus with turkey, Lily with a tofu dish, Marls and Dorcus with gifts.

Your house goes from quiet to lively in a matter of seconds and the boys set the table while you and the girls start drinking.

“Do you think Sirius will make a move on you?” Dorcus asks and you roll your eyes.

“We’re just friends,” you mutter, sipping your sorrel as your friends scoff. This is a conversation you’ve all had in many different ways.

You insist you’re friends and then Sirius goes on a does something not exactly too friendly.

“Dove? Can you come here a minute?” Remus calling you makes your eyebrows raise to your hairline.

“Yeah, Moony?” Sirius is already sitting in his self assigned seat- the one right beside yours- with a frown on his face. As you get closer, you notice he’s scowling and gritting his teeth.

That makes the nerves in your stomach churn a little more violently.

“Would you please tell Pads that you wouldn’t kiss him to ring in the New Year?” The girls laugh at the reasoning for Sirius’ sudden bad mood.

You frown. You hadn’t thought that was what he was gonna ask you. “Do you want to kiss me, Siri?” Sirius looks up at you instantly, eyes stormy.

“S’not about what he wants dove, do you wanna kiss him?”

You feel put on the spot and know Remus will drop it if you ask him to, but Sirius looks pensive. Like he’s on edge for your answer. Like he might combust and disintegrate if you refuse to kiss him.

Not like you would. He’s got lips that deserve to be kissed.

“Yeah I’d kiss him. Or let him kiss me, whichever way it has to go.”

Sirius perks right up, much to your friends’ delight. “We can start practicing now or when these lot leave if you like, poppet.”

#siriusblack #sirius black #sirius black one shot #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black fluff #sirius black drabble #sirius black blurb #sirius black fic #sirius black x best friend!reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x black!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x yn #sirius black x y/n

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luveline · 5 months

Note

Hi babe! Not sure how you feel about writing ab parents so feel free to ignore, but had an idea for kbd au if Steve’s parents tried to contact him/get into their lives and he’s all like stay away from my kids

kisses before dinner —steve has a tense relationship with his parents. mom!reader, 1.5k

The girls haven't seen their grandparents for… a while.

Steve's dad always has something to say about his life. How he's thrown everything away being a stay at home dad, or how idiotic it was to stay with you. The latter was enough for Steve to want to cut contact initially, but you convinced him not to do it on your behalf.

Steve, pretty much everyone we knew thought I was baby trapping you, you'd said.

Well, he'd said, attempting to lighten the mood, little do they know I baby trapped you.

Damn. Wanna do it again?

So it was funny. His parents didn't like you but they hardly liked him, he didn't mind —he was so fucking angry because who the fuck did they think they were, how could they look at you and not love you, you, in what world was it possible?— and he put up with their passive aggressive Christmas cards and their sparing visits, but then his mom took it too far.

He can remember it word for word. “Beth, honey,” his mom had said, her nose stuck in its permanent wrinkle, “why are you eating it like that? What do your friends at school think?”

“Mom, don't,” Steve had butt in. Beth didn't even go to school at that point.

“She's such a weird kid,” she said, shaking her head.

Some could argue it was fond or that she didn't mean anything by it, Bethie is very unique sometimes, but Beth turned her face to her dad with crestfallen eyes, as heartbroken as Steve had ever seen her before, and asked, “I'm weird?”

Steve doesn't remember the last time he spoke to his mom. A year ago at least.

He does miss her. But he doesn't really know her, never has, and he'd choose Beth over her without a thought. It would take a hundredth of a millisecond to decide.

That's why seeing her is a shock. He's going to see her, they live in the same town —you bumped into her a few weeks ago and had to give her the rundown. Everyone's okay. Yeah, we had another baby, she's doing great.

Steve had blown up at her. The girls had never seen him that angry in their lives and they haven't seen it since, and the gap is impassable.

Or so he thinks.

“Steve!” He tenses up. “Steve, honey!”

He can't decide what to do. He can't exactly run away; Bethie and Dove sit knee to knee in the shopping cart, Avery has her hand in his pocket, and Wren is strapped to his chest. Running would leave at least one girl behind, and where would he go? The frozen food aisle?

“Oh, it's grandma,” Avery says. “She looks… old.”

“She is old,” he says, turning reluctantly on the spot to watch his mother rush past a stack of cans of carrots. “She's ancient.”

“Steve, baby.” His mom stops in front of him, more flustered than he knew she could get back, struggling to maintain a sense of casualness. “How are you? Girls? It's been so long.”

Steve doesn't have an inkling of an idea of what to say. He's not mad anymore, but he knows she'll never change, and he knows that your family is a hundred times happier without worrying what grandma and grandpa think of you. “We're perfect,” he says.

“And this is baby Wren?”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah, this is Wren.”

She's only three months old but she has a good weight to her, and she's brilliantly healthy. She blinks at the woman in front of her without recognition, her dark lashes a thick hedging. She's a beautiful baby.

“She looks like you again, Steve.”

“Yeah, my girl's good at having babies, but she hasn't mastered the mixing process,” he jokes without thinking. Love for you falls off the tongue.

His mother has the sense to make herself laugh. “Where is Y/N?” she asks.

“Mom went back to get milk!” Avery says.

“Yeah? And how are you, sweetie?”

Steve clears his throat. He understands what she's trying to do, but he remembers Beth's crushed face and he can't abide this shit again. I believed you when you said I wasn't good enough, he'd said, he'd shouted, his voice hoarse with it as you’d wrapped a hand around his wrist arm, but I will not let you do it to them. It's not happening, mom, I won't let it. You don’t get to say that to her.

“Steven…”

“Mom, we have to get going.”

“I said I was sorry,” she says.

“But you weren't.”

“Steve–” She doesn't look a thing like her son beside the similar way they begin to cry, that frown, “Please, I know I'm not perfect, we don't have to pretend I've– I'll hold my tongue. I just want to see my grandkids. I've never even held her.”

Steve covers the back of Wren's head with his hand, her baby hair soft as down. The girls are being remarkably quiet, beside Dove, who's whispering, “Who is that?” to Bethie in her clumsy toddler drawl.

“That's gran'ma,” she whispers back.

Steve's mom is, at the end of the day, their grandma. And she sucks and she doesn't deserve anymore chances, and the girls are better off without her for the majority, but…

Steve screws his eyes shut. Don't make me regret this, he thinks.

“I just want to speak to them,” she says.

“Alright,” he says quietly, covering Wren's ear. “Alright, mom, fine, but this is it. This is your chance. If you ever upset or insult one of my kids again, we're done. We will never, ever speak again. You won't see them, and you won't see me. I'm serious.”

“I'm sorry,” she says again.

“Fine.” He pulls the strap off of Wren's harness and shushes her gently as she protests, lifting her out of his arms into his mom's. She doesn't have time to decide if she's ready. This is how it's going to be. “Her head.”

“I know how to hold a baby,” she says.

You come around the aisle slowly, a little wince to your step, some residual tightness in your hips as you recover postpartum, but the frown you wear slips into surprise. “Terri?”

You save Steve and take the reins, suffering a conversation on your pregnancy, birth, and Wren's first weeks of life as Steve takes a breath. His heart races, adrenaline and a sticky, icky feeling in his chest as he watches his mom. He doesn't know if he's doing the right thing. His arms ache to steal Wren back.

It ends in an invitation for dinner. Whenever you're free, whatever you want, Steve's mom offers.

He's glad to see the back of her.

You put the milk carton in the cart and touch his elbow. “You okay?” He hums. Your hand moves up to his face, cupping his cheek. “She makes you so mad, babe. Do you need a second?”

“I think I'm pissed because…” He glances down at Wren, who's happier now she's in familiar hands. “I didn't realise she was a shitty mom. I knew we didn't get along, the same with my dad, but I didn't know…” He sighs.

“It's okay,” you say, giving him a gentle squeeze before Dove demands you pick her up. You do it unthinkingly, and that's why he's mad.

“I know what a good mother looks like,” he says. “I know how hard it is. And I know she didn't even try.”

You're all sympathy, looking like you wanna wrap him up in a cuddle in the middle of the grocery store. “You deserved better. It makes me angry too.”

“Are we going to dinner?” Beth asks.

“What, with grandma?” Avery asks.

“Not right now,” Steve says.

“Good,” Dove says decidedly, wrapping her arms around your neck to hug you, squishing your cheeks together. “Cocoa?”

“Cocoa? You want hot cocoa?” you ask, pleased.

It breaks his heart thinking about himself as a kid. He knows there weren't any moments like this, no soft touches or sweet treats that weren't begged for. You don't even think about saying no.

“And marshmallows,” you croon, rubbing the little space between her shoulders. “And we'll have to get a cinnamon roll too, for your sister. How does that sound, Beth?”

Beth doesn't like hot cocoa but she loves cinnamon rolls these days, and she nods her head exuberantly. As quick as that, the girls forget their grandma's interruption, and Steve tries his best to put it out of his mind. Family is messy, and it's harder now he has to make decisions for all of them, but he has you. His support beam, his sweetheart, you put Dove on your hip and sew your arm loosely through his. Tonight he'll talk your ear off about things you know already. You'll listen without complaint, stroking his hair back from his forehead if you have a free hand. His family growing up wasn't worth calling a family half the time, just three people connected by blood and a shared house, but the family he has today takes the cake. There's no competition.

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