#like a fucked up little advent calendar

[bantersnatch]

have you ever gone "gee i sure wish i could read a weirdly grounded prequel-slash-character study speculating about host!vic's relationship with their step family"?

...no?

well. that's what i wanted. i wanted it so badly, in fact, that i've gone and written it myself. if you've ever gone looking for a longer/multichapter vip fic, or you want to see host!vic start out bad and get so much worse, or you just crave bianca content -- there might be something here for you, too!

[theflyingfeeling]

fanfic rambling in the tags, nothing interesting really, just me talking to myself lol, okay to ignore or read as you please ✨

[rxmye]

" 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘 "

𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 — everything in the end comes down to you . . God why are you so fucking hot when you're in control?

nsfw / sixteen + content / smut / gender neutral reader / yandere content / sub!yandere / pathetic!yandere / vibrators / ruined orgasms / begging / choking (you choke him, bro is into it) / torture / dacryphilia (kink for crying) / pet names "good boy" (awakens something within him) / desperate yandere? desperate yandere. / yandere oc x reader

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: we are so back, coming back the way I started (with Yoichi)

"Fuck, please", his voice was hoarse as he begged, looking at you with those tear stained doe eyes, he let out another whine, "please, please, please", he whispered like a prayer as you turned the vibrator even lower—ruining another orgasm in it's wake.

Yoichi swore he had never felt this desperate in years, grinding into the vibrator, his hands struggled some more on the makeshift binds, his wrist already scarred with rope burn—he wouldn't complain though . . no . . why would he ever complain.

Yoichi grit his teeth, a whine leaving his throat and more tears threatening to fall, this time however it was because of frustration—he leaned his head back, his bangs shifting, covering his eyes, sweat forming on his forehead, as he let out a few heavy breathes.

A choked sob leaving his throat when you turned the vibrator back on high, broken moans leaving his hoarse throat.

Yoichi closed his eyes shut, his toes curling from the feeling, saliva escaping from the corners of his mouth as he let out a particularly loud moan—Only to be cut off with the feeling of your hand wrapping around his throat—muffled noises left his mouth, and it was honestly pathetic how fast he came, white cum spurting everywhere, it even got on your clothes.

It took a minute or two before Yoichi opened his eyes, still feeling a bit dazed. The two of your eyes locked, and he flushed with embarrassment and awareness, the events of the last half an hour catching up to him.

You looked at him, "What do you say?", you questioned, eyes narrowing into a glare—and it would be a lie to say that didn't turn him on a little bit . . at the very least.

Yoichi hesitated for a moment, before finally answering, "t-thank you"

You smiled, ruffling his hair, and Yoichi felt his blood rise to his head, "Good boy", fuck.

Yoichi's stomach dropped low, and those two words awakened something in him that he just couldn't undo.

want more, buy my limited time only advent calendar?

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[parfaitblogs]

present enough for me ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you're decorating your apartment with your boyfriend, you're all too clumsy, and really, who makes glass baubles these days? 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff tags: established relationship. decorating a christmas tree. mentions of blood. joking about murder and prison (it makes sense i promise). puts up with your shit!spencer reid.  word count: >1k a/n: short n sweet little thingy to keep us going this holiday season ♡

❄︎ advent calendar masterlist

Everything had happened so fast. 

One minute, you were hanging a bauble on the tree, Spencer's ever so familiar voice reverberating around the room as he recites information you had to applaud him for knowing. 

Facts like, "Did you know Germans celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve? Because technically, Jesus was born on the night of the 24th. It's like this for a lot of European countries, actually." And, "Orthodox Christmas is on January 7, because Orthodox centric countries like Serbia, Belarus and Russia follow the Julian calendar, instead of the Gregorian one we do."

And, unfortunately, Spencer Reid's info-dumping is not annoying, but attractive to you. You oftentimes find yourself keenly listening in as he rattles off facts about things you'll probably never understand to the extent he does. Though, he does love over explaining just so you can comprehend some part of it. 

It had, evidently, led to you becoming a bit too distracted by your boyfriend halfway across the living room, adorning the television with tinsel, and resulted in your hand slipping as it slid a bauble onto the faux snow tree branch. It had fallen, and shattered, shards of it exploding across the wooden floor. 

You curse aloud, taking an instinctual step back, eyebrows furrowing. 

"Are you okay, angel?" Spencer calls, and you cringe at the sight of the pieces of bauble on the floor, though nod your head regardless.

"Yeah. You should see the other guy," you mumble, crouching down to the floor to pick up shards of the bauble. 

"No, don't touch—" he's cut off by your hiss as the sharp edge of the bauble slices your skin, your other hand that was already nursing some pieces, closing into a fist around them.

"Fuck," you seethe again, all the shards dropping to the floor at your — arguably stupid — mistake.

"The first health and safety rule when you drop glass is don't pick it up with your hands," Spencer scolds, his slippers padding against the floor as he heads over to you. His hand wraps around your forearm and he picks you up, shaking his head. 

"Okay, well, what idiot makes glass baubles?" you retort. 

"What clumsy idiot buys them?" he shoots back, and you huff because, well, he's got you there. 

"You're supposed to be supportive and nurturing," you mumble, though you're sure if Spencer overbearingly attempted to console your injured hand immediately, you'd question if he's sick.

"I can multitask," he answers, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Up."

You jump off the ground as he picks you up, carrying your body over to the kitchen stool, where he sets you down, away from the crime scene that is a shattered, bloodied bauble.

"It looks like that bauble tried to murder me," you say, staring at the scene. 

"I'll put some caution tape around the tree until it goes to trial."

"I vote two consecutive life sentences."

"Two? What's the second one for?"

"Conning me," you grumble.

He laughs as he disappears into the guest bathroom, just to reappear with the bright red First Aid kit, placing it on the kitchen counter next to you.

"Hand, please," he says, standing in front of you, and you hold out your palm. "Oh yeah, this is pretty bad, huh?"

"I can handle it," you huff, puffing your chest up. "A soldier never shows fear."

"My brave girl," he says, using baby wipes to clean up the blood, gently. "Did it get you anywhere else?"

You shake your head, wincing at the pressure — however slight — over the cuts on your skin. "Just my hands."

He nods his head, and once the blood is cleaned, he's soothing them with some antiseptic cream, trying to keep his touch as featherlike as possible. 

"I liked that bauble too," you mumble as he begins wrapping a bandage around your hand. 

"It's the same as the thirteen other one's of its design in the pack."

"No. It was special," you reply, shooting a glare at Spencer, who surrenders almost immediately. 

"Okay," he slowly nods his head, only really indulging in your antics to humour you. And maybe himself. 

Once your hand was wrapped up, and Spencer had given you a kiss for your undeniable bravery, you were bounding back over to the tree to finish adorning it with trinkets and other decor. 

"Please be careful," he warns, though abandons his post on the other side of the living room to help you with the three. 

Just in case. 

"I'm super careful."

He shoots you a look, that you match with a shit-eating grin, and then you're delving back into decorating the tree. 

By the time you're done, you are not any more injured, and the tree is lit up with an assortment of colours and glitter, and you're smiling, leaning against the television cabinet to admire it. 

The television cabinet dressed with a collection of candles, candle holders, tinsel, and a festive table runner you forgot you even owned. 

A table runner your hand was resting on.

And Spencer was too late in warning you, and your hand swings forwards, before you trip and land flat on your ass.

He doesn't help you up this time.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[monstersflashlight]

Advent calendar: Day 12. Ginger bread

A/N: As a disclaimer: this wasn’t intended to be as funny as it is.

Ginger bread man x fem!reader || degradation, dirty talk, special dick, flavored cum, (mentioned) oral sex, vore (maybe a tiny bit?)

Your date went well. More than well. Well enough that your pussy is tingling and he’s following you to your room. He pushes you back into the bed, his body hovering over yours as you tremble in anticipation. You’ve been waiting for this moment since you first laid your eyes on his sugary sweet body. He parts your legs, and you shiver, knowing fully well what he’s seeing.

He chuckles, one of his fingers rubbing your wet seam. “Going around without panties? What a dirty girl. I bet you like the danger of it, don’t you? You like knowing someone can sneak a peek and see how wet you are… Naughty, naughty human…” How can he look so cute but talk so filthy? It was driving you insane. “Next time tell me so I can have some fun while we eat,” the promise on his tone makes you groan.

He pulls your shirt over your head, leaving your skirt on. He takes his shirt next, making you groan as you see his golden skin, toasty and sugary, his dough body so yummy you want to take a bite out of him. But then he pulls down his pants and you have to bite your lip.

“You… Your dick… It’s a candy cane,” you finally let out, trying to stop the giggling from erupting but failing.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath, though, he grabs you by the hair and pulls your head back, licking a stripe along your neck as he asks: “Laughing now, little whore?” You whimper, the giggle dying down as your pussy starts quivering at the edge of danger in his voice. You let out a half response, something that pretends to sound like a no, but ends up in a moan.

He strokes himself, a colorful pearl of precum appearing at his tip and making your mouth water. He follows your eyes and smirks, rubbing along the tip of his candy-cock with his thumb and offering it to you. You latch onto his finger and moan in delight. He tastes wonderful, like condensed milk with a hint of mint. It’s delicious and you want nothing more than to devour him.

But he has other plans.

He slaps your pussy with his candy, making you let out a squeal as he laughs. And then he does it again, and again, until you are whimpering, pleading him to fuck you, to have mercy on your poor self and fuck you until you can’t breathe. Until you forget your own name and you can only chant his.

He laughs at you, massaging the tip of his candy against your clit, rubbing the minty moisture with your juices, making your whole pussy tingle. You never thought you’d be into something like that, but thinking about it, you also didn’t know you’d be into gingerbread men… And there you were: panting and desperate to be fucked by one.

“Please, please…” You beg, scratching his shoulders until he hisses. You probably took part of his dough, oops.

“Say you want it, little whore. Say you want my candy inside your tight wet pussy,” he instructs. You blush harder, his filthy mouth is driving you insane.

“I- I want it…” You try, but another slap makes you groan, interrupting your talking. He chuckles and lets you be for a second so you can say: “I want your candy inside my tight wet pussy.” The embarrassment to repeat his words makes you want to hide your face in your hands, but he holds you still, your face looking into his toasty colored face.

“Such an obedient little whore, you really want it, don’t you? You are desperate to be stuffed…” You nod vehemently, the tip of his candy-cock finding your entrance. You moan louder, urging him to do it, to get inside of you, your legs wrapping around his middle, your heels pushing him forward as he laughs and complies. “So desperate, my filthy little whore…” He whispers against your ear as you feel him entering you at a tortuous pace.

You cry out his name, your nails digging further into his dough, your heels trying to urge him deeper, but he doesn’t bulge. He’s taking his time to fit inside of you, so very slowly that your brain is short-circuiting and you can’t do much but groan over and over. He feels perfect, the ridges, the mint, the feel of it… it’s making your brain turn into jelly.

“Just like that, surrender to the pleasure…” He’s pushing into you in short thrusts, hitting points you didn’t even know you liked. “Such a good little whore, clenching on my shaft and making me feel so good… You are divine,” his praises only make you more desperate, panting and breathing so hard you fear you are about to hyperventilate.

But he’s not having any of that, and he thrust the final centimeters in a hard thrust, making your eyes roll back into your head as you scream his name and arch your back as far as possible, pleasure spreading from your pussy to your whole body.

It’s transcendental, a pleasure so deep and primal you can’t comprehend it, but as soon as he starts thrusting, you don’t care about that anymore. You only care about how good the candy-cock feels inside of you, how deep he reaches, and how his ridges are hitting your secret points better than any dildo ever could.

You are turning into a melted body under him, his thrusts measured and pointed, hitting your G-spot precisely as you chant curses and groans. A drop of sugar hits your cheek as he starts to sweat, you lick it, marveling at his taste once again. You throw your head up, latching onto his neck to suck a hickey and get some more of his delicious taste.

“Oh goddess, you feel so good. Your pussy is so tight, you are so perfect. Made for me. Your pussy is made for me,” he keeps spilling filth as you suck on his neck, his groans mixing with the slapping sound of his chocolate balls against your ass. “Do you want to come, little whore?” You moan an affirmative, sucking harder on his pulse point. “I’m going to fill you with so much cream you are going to become sugary sweet,” he whispers as he thrusts harder.

His fingers finding your clit and rubbing until you are losing your mind and precipitating over the edge of an incredible orgasm that makes your legs shake and your pussy quiver. He follows soon after, coming inside of you so much and so hard that you can feel every single twitch of his come hitting your insides.

He, true to his words, fills you with so much cream it starts to overflow around his candy-cock, making you feel filthy and sated. It’s the best feeling in the world. His body sags against your front, the full body pressure, making you feel content and relaxed, his cock still twitching inside your overused hole. He chuckles when you mumble incoherently against his cheek, kissing every part of his face you can reach.

But he surprises once again, kissing you deep and hard until you are panting and you can feel the arousal building up back again inside of you. “And now I feast…” He says before he travels down your body and buries his face in your pussy.

[coelakanths]

ik my birthday is three months away but i have GOT to start planning

[taexoxosgf]

THIS DECEMBER

PAIRING park jisung x fem!reader | ft. friendgroup!nct dream

WORDS 5k

SYNOPSIS Your horny friends try to pull a little prank on you in the days leading up to Christmas. One thing Park Jisung likes to remind them is: he totally doesn’t want any part in it. Except, he totally does.

WARNINGS smut, ANGST, fluff, lots of dialogue, vag fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, vanilla vanilla vanilla, they're in love basically

NOTES I have to admit, this isn’t my best work lolllllll. though this was supposed to be posted on christmas, this can be my new years gift! 2024 here we come babyyy

★ Part of A Dreamy Christmas Collab!

“Why don’t we all be her secret Santa?” 

“What are you talking about?” Jaemin chuckles, eyes dancing as he seems intrigued by the idea.  But what pervades his mind was nothing like what Donghyuck was about to propose. 

“Think about it…” he trails.  “She used to say, if it’s an SOS, and we need help in that department,” he points to his crotch– “She would help us out.” 

“You’re fucking crazy,” Jisung rolls his eyes when he catches on to Hyuck’s sudden idea.  

“So you’re saying we all get her a present?” Chenle asks.

“Yes… But we all have to give her the same… present,” he walks between each of the men like a devil hovering over their shoulders.   

“Hyuck, just get to the point,” Jeno huffs. 

“Okay, bu–”

“No ‘buts!’ Get to your point,” Renjun groans.  

“The gift we’re giving her can’t be put into a shitty little box.”

“Oh my god, NO!” Mark whines.  

“What’s so wrong with a little fun?” 

“Are you seriously suggesting an… orgy?” 

“No, you idiot,” Hyuck pinches his nose bridge.  “Let’s all give her our present one by one leading up to Christmas… Like an advent calendar,” he shrugs, unable to hide the pride beaming off of him from the simile.  

“So you’re suggesting we all have sex with her in the days leading up to Christmas?  Am I hearing this right?” Jaemin intervenes once more, orbs gleaming with interest. 

“Ding Ding! We have a winner!”

“Jisung’s right. You’ve gone insane,” Renjun fully laughs.

“You know I’m insane, and that’s why we have fun.  But you know what? Let’s make this more interesting… When we tell her after Christmas, the person who she says is her best fuck, get’s her secret Santa present,” Hyuck smirks. “You know she goes all out.” 

“I’m in, but it might be hard for Mark because he’s actually in love with her,” Jaemin turns his body towards his friend who avoids eye contact before offering a retort. 

“Why just me? You guys are all in love with her!” His claim is met with a group of huffs and groans.

“How do you know she’ll even agree to this?” Jeno points out, earning a nod from the others. 

“She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to.  If she does, then great! Amazing even! But if she doesn’t, then man, I feel kinda bad because we all got a thing for her.” Hyuck accepts the facts of the predicament. “Hopefully we can laugh about this on New Years.”

“I don’t.  I guess I’m the only one,” the youngest of the group speaks out but it’s not taken seriously by his older friends as a fit of laughter echoes within the small space.  

Hyuck’s the first one to speak– placing a hand on Jisung’s shoulder, “You’re the worst out of all of us.”  

“What are you talking about?”

“You guys always bicker and talk shit but I know all you want to do is rip each other’s clothes off,” Jeno jumps in. “Nice try though.  I almost believed it.”

“I’m not! She’s annoying as hell!”

“So annoying you want to fuck it out of her, right?” Jaemin joins. 

“You guys are jumping me right now, I’m leaving,” Jisung excuses himself earning a look of victory from his friends.

“Wait!  So you agree to it, right? Jisung?!  Hello?”  Chenle and Renjun yell out in unison, but the only reply heard is the slam of a door.  

“You’re serious about this Hyuck?” Mark asks one last time. 

“No, but this is just so those two kids will finally admit they’re down bad for each other.  I think this will be their breaking point.” 

“Damn,” all the other boys yell in unison. 

“I know right? Someone needs to hire me for something!  I don’t know for what, but something!” he crosses his arms to bask in his actions. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Mark laughs at his friend.  “You’re so dumb.” 

“Just wait and see.  He won’t make it to Christmas…”

Everyone is being… weird. 

On the very first day of December, you and all your friends come together to pick a name out of a jar.  The game of Secret Santa is an annual tradition you love partaking in. But once the weather dropped thirty degrees, all the boys started acting shady.  They were canceling plans with you on purpose, avoiding eye contact when you spoke to any one of them, and just running away the first chance they got.  It was easy to get mad, even call them out for it, but the replies would always be the same– that there was nothing wrong or they were just tired.  

And you’re not going to lie, it was starting to make your skin crawl.  The sudden shift in dynamic between you and the boys has you wondering if you did something wrong. But if they were trying to pull something, then they had another thing coming. It was frustrating, trying to shake it out of them in every way possible, but no one would budge.

December eighth rolls around and you know everyone is free today because you all collectively promised Sunghoon that every year until the day you die, this day will always be open for him.  It’s always an annual trip to the snowy mountains– a secluded cabin and powdery snow that’s fit for snowboarding. Surprisingly, but not so surprisingly, everyone’s busy up until the car ride to the cabin. 

Their persistent avoidance, even for an event like this, just pulls on the strings even harder. 

You’re leaning against the island of the kitchen, glaring into their souls from across the room as the music's bass reverberates throughout the warm cabin; and the bitter liquid in your plastic cup disappears like water down a drain.  

“Why are you standing here all by yourself?” 

You turn to the voice, sporting a grin once you realize who it is. “Hey, birthday boy. Just glaring at the boys.  Don’t know if they notice though,” you squint a little harder, hoping they’ll finally notice. 

Sunghoon’s orbs follow the seven of them scattered around the living room. “They notice alright. I’m sure they’ll come crawling back when they realize you don’t play.” 

“Oh, they know I don’t.  But they’re still gonna try anyway,” you let out a heavy sigh.  “I just wish I knew what they’re up to.  It’s killing me.” 

“Just ask Jisung.” 

“Why Jisung?” The mention of your friend’s name causes the subject of your orbs to shift to him, but he’s already looking your way.  When you make eye contact, he hurriedly glances away, confirming the suspicion that something’s up. 

“I feel like whatever they’re planning, he’s telling them he doesn’t want to do it.” 

“Why is that so detailed? Do you know what they’re up to? Spill right now!”

Sunghoon shakes his head in denial, raising the cup to his lips before responding. “Nah, you guys are always going at it. That’s all. It’s just a hunch.” 

“Fine, maybe I will. But I was gonna do it anyway.” 

You’re already making your way towards Jisung when Sunghoon blurbs out.  “If it doesn’t work, I’m always available.”

“You wish, Park.”  But you stop in your tracks.  “Wait, what?” 

Sunghoon walks off in a hurry, “Nothing! Had to try at least once!” 

Rolling your eyes at the birthday boy, you finally make your way to your destination but all seven of your friends go completely mute once you reach it.  There’s not a sound emitting from them, and it practically forces smoke out of your ears. 

“Okay, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Jeno murmurs.

“You guys have been ignoring me ever since December started! Spill your evil plans right now!” 

“Nothing’s going on,” Chenle adds, but it’s met with a crack of his voice at the final word, and you know one hundred percent they're lying. 

“Haechan! I know you’re the mastermind,” you turn to your friend, but all he does is shrug, eyes still looking everywhere but yours as he nonchalantly sips from his drink. 

“Nothing whatsoever. We’ve just been busy that’s all,” Jisung speaks out, but you chuckle, knowing he’ll eventually give in if you press him hard enough. 

“Of course, you’re a part of this! Sunghoon told me you weren’t, but I doubted him as soon as those words left his mouth!” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jisung’s tone changes, as if he’s warning you.

“That little shithead!” Jaemin groans.

“I knew it!” you exclaim.

“What did he tell you?” Renjun interrupts.

“Nothing, just what I said before.”

“Nothing is going on. You don’t believe us?” Jisung is still firm on his decision to make you believe otherwise. With that stupid smirk he’s trying to hide and how his form influences you to shift back. 

“Of course, you’re still on that even though Jaemin just admitted you guys are planning something! You’re the worst!” 

“And you’re a dumbass,” Jisung mumbles once you turn away.

“Look who’s fucking talking,” you don’t realize you’re stepping closer at every syllable exchanged and you don’t know why your friend loves to push your buttons so much.

“You always say I’m the worst and then you come right back.  I don’t think you hate me as much as you say you do,” Jisung’s eyes glimmer with a playfulness to them, closing the space between the two of you as the bickering reaches its climax.  But his words only fuel your rage.

At this point, you can only see red.  

All you do with Jisung is bicker or fight about stupid shit. Your friendship with the other boys is the glue that holds you and Jisung together.  No one could guess that you met all the boys through him. You both had been friends with benefits long ago— practically another lifetime. But you’d jump off a cliff before admitting that the shards of glass remain. And that it still cuts. 

It’s impossible to act like everything is fine and you both can get along.  So instead, you fight and fight until no more words can be said.  

“Ooooo,” you hear Jeno say, reminding you you’re still in a place full of swarming bodies. 

“What about you? You either hate me or you love me. It can’t be both,” you mutter, condemning yourself as you catch a glimpse of his lips hovering above yours.  You're both staring one another down, and you notice the same vein on the side of his temple, and his jaw clenches with each phrase that escapes your lips. 

“Watch it,” Jisung seethes.

“What? If you wanna play this game, let’s pla—“

“Okay! Enough of this,” Hyuck groans before dragging the both of you by the wrist and out of the main room.

“What are you doing Hyuck?” you urgently inquire, but he doesn’t reply.  He only hurriedly rushes along, throwing you both into a bedroom you don’t recognize.  And as you rush to escape the enclosed space, your friend shuts the door in front of your face– leaving you with your hands practically clawing at the door.  

“Lee Donghyuck! Open the fucking door right now!” you yell out, unable to comprehend how your friend could think this was a solution.  “Open the door before I beat your ass!” 

“He’s not going to open the door,” Jisung reminds you of his presence amidst the chaos.  “Not until the morning.”  

“What?! No. No. No. This is not happening right now.”  

“Let’s just sleep.  So when we wake up, we can just get outta here.”  

You scan the room, realizing there’s nothing for you to rest on except the bed in the center– the one Jisung is currently sitting on.  “You think I can fall asleep with everything that’s going on?  And I don’t even know what’s going on,” you’re shifting awkwardly, habitually rocking yourself on the heel of your feet following the eye of the storm.  

“Just sleep.  It’ll be over soon,” Jisung already makes himself comfy, placing his legs under the covers and rearranging the pillow to his liking.  He’s too calm.  Way too calm for what just occurred. 

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” 

“I don’t know, figure it out,” he mumbles, lids already fluttering shut.  You hate how you admire how long his eyelashes are.  

His eagerness to ignore the dilemma influences you to the bed to pry his lids open.  As Jisung opens his eyes willingly, you finally take notice of how close you both are.  His eyes widen at the proximity and he shifts back to the edge of the bed in surprise. You’re caught off guard because there seems to be something lingering in the air between the two of you.  And you brush it off because you know it’s annoyance. 

“Just sleep,” he softly lets out before returning to his original position.  “Next to me.” 

His softness in these last words has you admitting some defeat– realizing fighting won’t solve anything.  “Fine.”  

There are still zero answers that will satisfy your scrambled mind.  

And you’re trapped in a room with someone you can’t stand for more than five minutes.

It’ll be over soon.  Right? 

You’re fucking drenched. 

As the daze of sleep washes over, you notice the stickiness between your thighs. And not the good kind. 

It felt as if you just entered the fiery pits of hell. 

“What the fuck?” you whine. The air was so humid, you were practically suffocating.  And as you turn to the side, you see an irritated Jisung.  If you thought you looked gross, Jisung didn’t have a dry spot on his clothing.   

You try your hardest not to stare at the clothing sticking to his abs.  This is not the time.

“Don’t,” he warns, thinking you’re about to poke fun at him.

You chuckle at the sight of his discomfort, offering a half-assed apology.  “Sorry.”  

“Lee Donghyuck! Turn off the fucking heater!” he yells out, but there’s no answer.  

“Fuck.  We’re going to die.” 

“I’m not dying here with you.  That’s not how I’m going out.”  

“Is that so bad?  Chill the fuck out,” you roll your eyes. 

“Yes it is! I’m gonna kick the door down and beat Donghyuck’s ass.”

You don’t know if it’s the unbearable heat, or the constant fucking attitude from Jisung all night.  Maybe it was the pent-up frustration from all the other times you both didn’t get along.  But you’ve decided enough is enough. 

“What’s your fucking problem?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You’re always so fucking mad at me.  I do nothing and you’re mad.  I breathe and you’re mad.  It pisses me off!  At this point, I should be the one giving you the attitude you give me!”  

“And you know what?  I always cared what you thought.  But not anymore. I’m done caring so pretend I don’t even exist,” your heart is beating out of your chest as the words spill out like vomit.  

“That’s no–” Jisung’s unable to finish his sentence when suddenly his orbs follow your fingertips gripping the hem of your top to bring over your head– leaving you in a bra.  “Wha-”

“It’s hot as shit and I’m not going to suffer.  Do what you want,” you huff, continuing with the removal of your jeans. You notice Jisung's stare lingering on your contours as you eventually pull them off, and it appears as if a million different things are running through his mind when he suddenly glances away and shakes his head.  

You’re not going to lie, it’s amusing seeing Jisung’s usual persona falter. Your boldness and the situation it creates masks the uncomfortable predicament the two of you are in.  “It’s not like you haven’t seen me like this before.”  

“What did you mean by ‘you used to care about what I thought?’” He swallows nervously.

His words have you stopping in your tracks, not realizing your words were true candor. “Nothing, I was just saying nonsense,” is all you can render as you make your way to the bed, but Jisung beats you to it, grabbing your wrist to prevent you from escaping.  

“Tell me. Please.  I know it wasn’t nonsense,” his voice is like syrup, the usual bite to it completely gone.  

You turn to face him, though you regret it the moment you notice how his eyes match his voice. “Well, I cared what you thought because of what we did before we all became friends.  And us… Or whatever we are.  I don’t know what we are now but I cared about you and what you thought about me.”

“Cared?”

“I still do…”  

“Then why do we fight?” 

“I don’t know.  I guess you hate me so I just returned that energy.” 

“I don’t hate you,” he sounds hurt, the similar bite of his voice attempting to escape.  “You annoy the hell out of me, but I could never hate you.”

“Oh…” 

“You really act like you hate me though,” Jisung offers a small smile.  

“I don’t hate you. You’re annoying as hell. And I just don’t know what to do with everything lingering in the air when I’m around you,” you bite your lip at the confession, realizing it wasn’t a very good one. And you see him watch you do so. 

“You mean the tension?” 

“Yeah… The tension… The tension causes us to fight. Right?” The air becomes more suffocating than it already is. Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s Jisung so close to you, or how you’re basically naked in front of him.  

“What else would we do?” his eyes are still trained on your lips.  

“I don’t know,” you murmur not above a whisper. “You tell me.”

“Let me try something,” he takes a step forward, shortening the small space between the two of you. “Promise you won’t get mad.” 

“No promises,” you urge, because you’re unsure of what Jisung planned to do after the indirect confessions made in the room today.  One things for sure. This territory hadn’t been visited in ages and it scares the shit out of you.  

“What are you go–” You’re cut off the lips that make its way onto yours. 

When you see Jisung dipping his head down to capture your lips onto his, you're taken aback.  However, the minute he makes contact, your legs almost buckle.  It's a familiar sensation, and you melt into him as he tests the waters with increasing devotion.  

When you reciprocate the kiss, it gets feverish, and your trembling lips work together haphazardly, interwoven with airy sighs.  His arms reach for your waist, pulling you into him harder than ever before.  He knows your body like no one else, and it drives parts of your brain haywire.  It feels like only yesterday that you both would rendezvous.

He groans into your mouth and squeezes your ass as you tug on his hair the way he likes it.  It makes you whimper since the combination of the sloppy kiss and the rush of pleasure is far too satisfying. 

 It feels good.  Way too good.  

That's why when Jisung pulls away, you chase his lips and he emits a small chuckle at the action. “Tell me you missed me.  Tell me you don’t hate me and never did,” his shoulders rise and fall at a rapid pace as he catches his breath. 

“I don’t,” you look up at him, and you want nothing more to kiss him again.  It feels like all the frustration aimed at him was sexual.  It’s honestly his fault for always looking so tempting while offering some smartass retort.  “I never did.” 

"God, I missed you," he smashes his lips against yours again, this time much more aggressive, and the back of your knees reach the edge of the bed, briefly disconnecting your lips.  You laugh, and he smirks before diving back into you as soon as your back comes into contact the mattress.  

Something possesses him at that moment, makes his hands glide up the back of your thighs, to kiss down your neck, sucking and biting to leave small bites that he later licks over to soothe the sting.  “Know how much you love to be marked.” 

“And I know how much you love me choking on your dick,” you giggle, licking a long stripe along his neck up to his jaw.  

“You’re dangerous,” Jisung hooks your thong aside, unsurprised when he notices the sticky arousal coating his fingers.  “Fuck, I forgot how wet you get.” 

“It’s from the heat.”  Your words contradict themselves as noises of pleasure leave your lips when he runs his fingers along your folds.  Jisung, on the other hand, knows the meaning behind your words like no other.  “All this stickiness is from the heat? I don’t think so baby,” he offers some stimulation to your clit and your back arches once he comes in contact with your bud.  

You shake your head and he dips his head down onto your neck offering a small kiss against the side of your neck.  God, he looks so hot, with the sweat dripping down the side of his temple and his puffy lips from kissing.  

The lewd sounds from his fingers running along your folds sends you into a frenzy.  You’re attempting to gain more friction, bucking your hips to feel more.  You’re so needy for his touch.   You've been longing for this touch.  "I'll be nice, baby," he says, inserting one finger inside your hole, your walls engulfing him up to the knuckle.  Jisung experiments with twisting and curling his fingers, enjoying the way you gasp and pulse around his fingertips. 

The wet glide is so satisfying and you moan, basically fucking yourself onto his fingers. “Sung–” is all you can choke out as he begins thrusting with a rhythm you both can’t forget.  “Wai–”

But Jisung can’t withhold any longer, not with you looking so pretty underneath him.  Not with the sounds that he remembers all too well.  His cock practically throbs at these thoughts, begging to be free from its confines when you’re already a mess.  He’s pressing against your clit along with the constant thrust of his fingers.  “Shit, Sung!” you wail, already foreseeing your high from the short time.  

Your nails dig into his forearm, body twitching from the overwhelming pleasure only he can give you.  “Oh, fuck,” the words are combined with a moan as your orgasm takes you by surprise, coating his fingers in a creamy pearl substance.  It drips down your folds as he pulls away, and the wash of the aftermath runs from your toes to the crown of your head.  It’s blissful, but your hunger for him doesn’t stay satiated.  “Good girl,” he says as he revels in your figure. 

“I need you,” you pant.  “Now.”  

“Whatever you say, Mom,” he jokes as he pulls his shirt over his head before discarding the rest of his clothing.  

“Ewww. Never say that again,” you say, earning a laugh from Jisung.  

“Like words ever stopped me before pretty girl.”

He's tugging the side of your panties, dragging them down the side of your legs while practically gaping. He continues with your bra and he gazes, unable to believe everything taking place currently.  You're like a dream, sprawled out beneath him. The pretty girl he could never get close to after being so close with.  

“Ready?” he asks after he shakes himself out of the trance you have him in.  

“Mhm,” you nod.  

He pushes inside, sighing into your ear at the creaminess of your cunt.  Your arms are wrapped around his neck as he bottoms out, fingers burrowing further into his scalp.  Jisung, rather than staying against your neck, takes advantage of the chance to peer at you.  When his nose brushes up against yours, all he sees are your lips caught between your teeth.  

At the feeling of his big cock inside of you, you clench around him.  He groans against your mouth, habitually bucking his hips forward.  “Fuck,” you moan out, back arching at the feel of his cock dragging against your walls. Your brain is already a mess and it has been since the moment he kissed you.  But Jisung loves how you’re a mess around him.  He takes pride in how he makes you feel, and that turns him on beyond belief. 

“Move Sungie, please,”  you plead and Jisung groans at the nickname you know he loves so much.  It’s enough for him to grab your wrists to pin them above your head before he begins moving.  

“Sung,” you call out again when he begins to move.  His calculated movements have you squirming beneath him, but you’re still perfectly fit against him and it’s as if you both never stopped this routine.  

“You’re mine.  I’m not letting anyone touch you,” he coos, and you’re quick to agree.  “Yours.” 

The constant rhythm he keeps has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and you're shivering when he picks up the pace--giving him a look that seems to make Jisung's cock practically explode.  He snaps his hips forward, so close to the edge that you shudder at the perspective. 

He's fucking you so well that your eyesight is fuzzy, and the brush of his dick against the spot that drives you insane only adds to the sensation. "I-I'm so close," you warn, your irregular breathing hitting his face.  

“Wait S-sung-g no.” Just as you’re about to hit your peak, Jisung flips you over so that you’re sitting on his thighs.  Though you’re disappointed in the delay of your orgasm, the angle has his cock pushing deeper than before, tip nudging against your velvety walls harshly.  “Fuck, I can’t,” you beg as your back arches at the smallest movements.  

As fast as words leave his throat, Jisung dips down to suck on your nipple, occasionally leaving purple blossoms.  “Wait I’ll–” 

“You’ll what?” he says, chuckling when he sees you instinctively grinding forward against his member. “Cream my cock?” He watches your fucked out expressions, loving how your eyes are lined with tears.  

“I’m planning on it, “ he smirks before thrusting up into you.  

“J-jisung!” you’re a sobbing mess above him as his harsh thrusts sends pure pleasure up your spine.  His name falls off your lips like a mantra, and the gibberish he can’t make out only urges him to move furiously into you.  Though your brain is a puddle of mush, the band in your lower abdomen is about to snap, so you grind your hips against him with newly found fervor, stimulating your clit in the best way possible. 

Jisung watches you above him as his fingers dig into your waist.  You’re so beautiful, he thinks.  Everything about you, every part of your mind and body he worships, and he swears he’s not going to let go of you this time. 

“S-sung,” you moan again and again, and Jisung continues to abuse your boob, kissing up your throat as you inch closer to your high. “So perfect.” 

You let out a high-pitched moan at a specific thrust, and your thighs tremble against his.  "I got you," he says as he places a gentle kiss on your lips.  And after a few thrusts, you're collapsing against him, again repeating his name.  You're just a lick away from teetering off the edge.  

“I want it so bad,” you blabber against his neck.  “S-so close.  Don’t stop.” 

“Give it to me,” he dips underneath to circle your bundle of nerves with the perfect pressure and you come undone, high-pitched moans and whimpers against his ear.  

 The mix of cum and the slick from prior allows the glide to be that much easier for Jisung to glide against as he tips over the edge as well.  You’re still pulsing and gripping his cock like a vice and it’s a done deal for Jisung.  “Inside?” 

“Inside me,” you kiss the side of his neck.  He feels euphoric as your noises against his ear urges him on and his arms hold you tightly.  And after a few more thrusts and desperate hips, his cum shoots inside you.  “Fuck.” 

It's so much energy that when the sensation of your high washes over you, you collapse against Jisung, who also collapses against the mattress. 

“You’re sticky,” you look at his face and admire how good the afterglow of sex looks on him.  

 Jisung massages little circles across the small of your back in comforting stillness.  

“I’m going to murder Hyuck,” he realizes how much the humidity encases the room. 

“Maybe not too brutal, because his plan to lock us in here so we can finally make up worked,” you notify him and his eyes light up.

“I think everyone’s asleep.  How about we torture them some more?” he smirks at you.  

“I say Hyuck isn’t going to get a wink of sleep tonight,” you mischievously grin and it’s enough for Jisung to dive down and continue drowning in your lips. 

DECEMBER 31  11:59 PM

“Damn, I can’t believe my plan worked! You guys are attached to the fucking hip,” Hyuck comes over to you and Jisung hand-in-hand.  

10

“Your plan worked for once dumbass,” Jeno butts in abruptly, almost spilling the alcohol in his cup. 

9

“We have no more arguing but I don’t know if it’s worth it,” Jaemin points.  

8

“You guys are like rabbits!” Mark yells out.

7

“Gross! Not the fucking time! I need to find someone to kiss,” Renjun groans. 

6

“Yeah but everything Hyuck does to end our suffering, it just reappears as something else!” Chenle laughs, earning a middle-finger from the subject of his words. 

5

“Guess you were right.  We can laugh about this on New Year's,” Jeno turns to Hyuck.  

4

“Happy new year motherfuckers,” Chenle says before clinking all the cups together.  

3

You turn to Jisung as the clock counts down, his arm around your waist. “Happy New Year, boyfriend.” 

2

“Happy New Year, Girlfriend,” he smiles the hardest you’ve seen him in a while.  

1

“Happy fucking new year,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours. 

Happy fucking new year indeed. 

[cranberrymoons]

hey sweetheart

prompt: meetcute at work (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: e (18+) word count: 896 words tags: modern au, line cook eddie/waiter steve, hooking up

welcome to Day 4 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

Steve is halfway through his first week when he meets him: the line cook with the long hair pulled back in a bun, the stark black lines of tattoos snaking up his arms, the flirty little smile that he flashes in Steve’s direction when Steve comes back to pick up Table 6’s starters.

It’s a hell of a time to start a job in the first place: mid-holiday season, no one around to train him except Robin who’s only worked there a couple weeks longer than he has and knows next to nothing about The Way Things Work.

But she’s Robin, and she’s familiar, and she knows him well enough to warn him to avoid the flirty long-haired line cook with the big brown eyes and the dimples and the million watt smile directed right at him and – 

Fuck.

“Sweetheart, you rang in Table Twelve wrong,” the guy says, leaning forward over the pass with a ticket in his hand. “This says no onions, but the special isn’t made with onions.”

Steve stares at him as he loads Table Six’s plates onto a tray. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, but only barely.

“My name isn’t Sweetheart,” he says eventually. “And so – just extra don’t put onions on it. Who cares?”

The cook raises his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. “Thought it sounded nicer than ‘hey new guy’, but if you’d prefer that –”

“Steve,” he says. He shoulders his tray. “My name is Steve.”

The cook gives him a little smile, eyes flashing in the bright fluorescents of the kitchen.

“Alright, Sweetheart.” He tilts his chin up. “Extra no onions for Table Twelve, and you can call me Eddie.”

---

It continues on like that for a week or two: Eddie flirting, finding any excuse to ask a question about his ticket. 

Steve knows what he’s doing; he’s worked in restaurants before, and he’s fucked enough hot line cooks in his time that he should know better than to fall into the trap, but still, he finds himself drawn in, entertaining Eddie’s endless teasing and prodding and poking until he starts doing it back – little digs about his shift meal, questions about a menu item that he already knows the answer to.

“Dude,” Robin says, halfway through his first month. 

It’s rounding up on Christmas, and the place is packed, corporate groups out for holiday parties and couples on dates. 

“If you don’t stop flirting, I’m going to cut your fucking dick off,” she says. “Seriously.”

And – okay. That’s fair. 

Steve pulls himself away from where he’d been leaning over the pass, asking Eddie a question about the catch of the day that he’s already asked three times tonight. Clears his throat and straightens up. He tugs his tie back into place, claims the braised oxtail that’s destined for Table Two and clears his throat.

“Sorry.”

Eddie sends him a wink, and Steve feels himself flush.

“Please tell me you’re not going to fuck him,” Robin says as they exit the kitchen.

Steve sighs. “I’m not going to fuck him.”

---

And of course, he’s lying through his teeth.

The very next night, they’re both off work, and he gets a text from an unfamiliar number, just –

hey sweetheart 

Steve flushes as he stares down at his phone, scratching a hand back through his hair. He takes a breath.

Wonder who this could be , he texts back.

All he gets in response is a simple,

😇 

---

Two hours later, he’s flat on his back in Eddie’s bed, clinging to his shoulders and whining as Eddie fucks him so hard he loses his breath, so hard he feels like his brain is rattling around in his skull. He digs his teeth into Eddie’s skin, ankles locked around his back and not even bothering to hold back the noises that Eddie’s punching out of his chest, just –

“Fuck,” he gasps, voice coming high in the back of his throat. “Holy shit, I –”

Eddie’s mouth runs up the column of his neck, hands trailing over his skin, nails dragging sharp lines down his sides.

“You going to come for me, sweetheart?” he asks, voice low in his ear. “Show me how pretty you can be?”

And that’s – for some reason that sets Steve off, turns his skin over to fire as he grips tighter to Eddie’s shoulders, nails digging in, back arching off the bed, coming so hard he sees stars.

---

And then later, when they’re both fucked out and exhausted and Steve is preparing to take his cue to gather his clothes and make a graceful exit, he feels Eddie’s mouth skimming up the side of his neck, hand tangling in his hair, dragging him into another kiss.

A real one, with teeth and tongue and lips, a kiss that isn’t intended to go anywhere other than just to be , and his breath catches a little in his chest, hand skittering over Eddie’s back as he rolls over on top of him.

“Stay?” Eddie asks, voice quiet and hopeful and muffled where their mouths are still pressed together. He smiles, lips quirking up and drawing Steve along with him. “You know I know how to make breakfast.”

And Steve breathes out a quiet laugh, bumping their noses together. He sighs.

“As long as there’s bacon.”

[also on ao3]

[dietcokegirly12]

“His Advent Calender !”

KINKMAS DECEMBER 7TH

synopsis: when you tease aki by using a naughty advent calendar, with the promise of letting him fuck you raw, what happens next..?

word count: 2.7k

tags: teasing, slight edging, unprotected sex, mention of daddy, size difference, spanking, grinding, etc etc

art creds: @ndsoda and @ste

꒰ა ˚₊ ・┈・☃︎ ⟡₊⊹ˎˊ˗・┈・₊˚໒꒱・┈・☃︎ ⟡₊⊹ˎˊ˗・┈

“what’s that, baby?” your clingy boyfriend, aki nuzzles into your neck from behind, hand curling around your waist as he looks at the chunky package in your hands, topped off with a little bow, white ribbons curling.

you smile. “an advent calendar.”

today was december first, the first of twenty-four slots to be opened daily, and the tradition was to usually have a little sweet or trinket awaiting you, but this one was different.

no, rather than having anything like that, it held twenty four days of panties.

lace, thongs, g-strings, boy shorts, mesh, see-throughs, ones with suggestive phrases, any kind imaginable, they were in there.

and you were going to tease him relentlessly with it for the next twenty four days. he really had no idea the amount of trouble he was in for.

he furrows his eyebrows, gruff voice huffing softly in your ear. “hmm, why’s it so big?”

your grin widens as you hold it out to him. “why don’tcha open it and find out?”

he takes it from you gingerly, turning it over in his hands, inspecting it with a sense of curiosity. “the first?”

as you nod, his large palms slide over the smooth, glossed front, before finding the window corresponding to the date, opening the little cardboard flap.

and all he can do is gape, as a green, lacy thong flutters out, bedazzled in silver glimmering rhinestones, and lands on the floor.

immediately his eyes are focused back on you. “did you..”

without waiting, you pick up the pair, and with one swift tug on your baggy, drawstring sweatpants, they fall down, exposing you to him, as you slip them on.

“like ‘em?” you wink, turning around for the full effect, your plump ass on full display for him to ogle at.

“i..” he reaches to squeeze your ass cheek gently, leaning in for more, and you can already see a tent beginning to form in his pants.

“ah ah..” you swat his hand away, turning back to smirk at him gleefully. “you can look but no touching. not until christmas, at least.”

his mouth drops, and his head lolls to the side as he studies you with a look akin to disbelief.

“that’s the challenge! twenty-four days of teasing..” you bounce around happily, much to his displeasure as his hands reach for you again.

“twenty four days of torture..” he muses with a groan, feeling your plush tummy, his hand weakly trying to slide lower, only being stopped as you pull back.

“no touching!” you whine, watching as the bulge in his pants fills with life, straining further against its confines.

this was going to be hard.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ ⋆⁺₊❅. ꒱┈• ｡ﾟ┈꒰ ⋆⁺₊❅. ꒱┈• ｡ﾟ┈꒰ ⋆⁺₊❅. ꒱┈•

the next day, you get adorably striped boyshorts. the day after, red candy-cane patterned see-through ones. the next, a pretty red ribboned one with a little bow. after that, a cheeky little g-string.

and every day, aki becomes more and more flustered and needy than the previous. almost to the point, he was borderline pathetic.

now, aki was no weak crybaby of a man. he could hunt devils as well as anyone, and his masculinity and leadership abilities left him dominant. most of the time. until it came to you.

after constantly being firm and commanding toward everyone, always on the hunt and ready to attack, you were the first person he ever felt truly comfortable with. around you, he was weak.

and oh was he weak for you right now.

“c’monnn jus’ one taste.” he’s lying on his stomach in between your legs, spreading your thighs apart with his large palms, and staring up at you with big, pleading eyes.

“akiii..” you purr, backing up. “remember the challenge rules..”

he moves back grumpily, his voice slightly gruffer than before. “yeah, what’s the point? there’s not a reward..”

you let out a mock gasp. “oh, did i not tell you?”

his face immediately perks up as he gazes at you like an eager puppy, an imaginary tail wagging behind him. “no, tell me what?”

“if you do manage to last the whole twenty-four days, at the end of december, on christmas your present is… you get to cum inside. raw.”

his mouth dries, cock immediately hardening painfully in his pants, heartbeat thumping erratically. he had never.. come inside you before, or anyone else for that matter. even though you took birth control, you never wanted to risk it, saying it was better to use a condom, and pull out to be safe rather than sorry.

but now. all bets were off. he was getting that reward, whether it took every ounce of strength in his body, which it probably would.

you arch your back slightly as you gaze down at him, swaying your plump ass side to side teasingly. “so.. it’s in your best interest to last.”

he growls, roughly grabbing you and throwing you down on the couch, your squeals filling the air as he lands a sharp, stinging smack! to your left ass cheek. “sweetheart, you need to stop that or i’m not going to be able to last.”

you flip back over with a huff, pouty. “not my fault you don’t have control of yourself..” you say petulantly, as you reach to loop your arms around his neck.

he sighs softly, burying his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your warm familiar scent. “you’re right..” gently, he begins to place kisses up, lips brushing ticklishly across you.

you giggle softly, opening your legs to him, his eyes immediately drifting downward. “naughty girl..” his deep murmur rumbles in your eye as he leans closer to press a kiss to the side of your jaw.

you let out a small hum of pleasure, and he leans closer to deepen it, his hardness pressing against your leg insistently now, almost throbbing with heated need.

before he can move any closer though, you push him away, closing your legs again, and unable to stop the smug grin that spreads across your face at the flash of feralness in his eyes at being pushed away yet again.

before he can speak however, you turn around and walk away, your curves accentuated by the green pair of cheeky lace boyshorts you had on underneath one of his baggy t-shirts.

“it’s only the sixth, aki.”

. . .

over the next few weeks, aki’s need for you becomes brutal, almost overpowering in its entirety.

he’s always pressed up next to you, his chest to your back, or touching you in some way.

and he’s always hard. always.

so much so that it looks like it hurts, pants always stretched too tight from the massive bulge he’s packing.

occasionally, you’ll stretch or shift next to him, rubbing on his cock slightly, and you’ll feel him stiffen, his breathing almost stopping entirely.

but it was only until christmas eve, when he snapped.

it had happened to be freezing, temperature dropping below thirty degrees, and the heater just wasn’t enough.

you nestle your shivering body beside your warm boyfriend, practically radiating heat in his baggy shirt and sweatpants, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the christmas movie you two had put on to set the mood.

snuggling as close as you can to him, you nose your face into him, clutching tightly as you try to absorb some of his warmth.

“babeee.. it’s so cold.” you whine, pressing closer, as if you were trying to mold yourself to his skin.

he jerks forward ever so slightly, and you can tell that how close you were was beginning to have an effect on him. “yeah, i turned on the heater, it should kick in soon..” his voice is raspy, slightly deep as he tries to maintain a subtle tone.

you nod, snuggling closer and trying to warm yourself up by rubbing along his chest and abdominals.

he groans slightly, trying to nudge you off him, adjusting himself in his manspread form on the couch.

“aki.. hold me..” you protest, immediately jumping into his lap at his reluctance to touch you.

“honey.. don’t..” his head falls back and eyes squeeze shut tightly as you move, getting comfortable, draping yourself atop him, clad in your new, naughtiest underwear yet, a cute little thong with the words, “daddy” stitched on the back and pretty lace up the sides.

to make things worse, you were not wearing a bra underneath your baggy t-shirt, and the tips of your nipples were poking through, brushing against him slightly.

and then, you grind. it’s a very subtle movement, barely noticeable, only perceptible to aki, whose senses were already heightened from being deprived of you for so long. your clothed cunt drags along him as you pretend to fix your hair, before curling back up on his chest, only turning to gaze up at him innocently when he inhales sharply.

but before you can even speak, he has you pinned under him in a blink, ferocious eyes gazing down upon you.

“i.. told.. you.. to stop that!” his weight crushes your chest as he presses on you fully, but before you can get him off of you, his lips come to crash against yours in a messy, uncoordinated kiss.

he’s kissing you with a kind of feral desperation only a starved man can capture, pulling and pushing against your lips, with hands coming to spread your thighs wider, nestling his bulge snugly in between.

you gasp, but are quickly cut off by the forcefulness of his tongue being shoved roughly into your mouth, neediness clear in the way he reaches down to grab your ass, squeezing roughly as a guttural grunt tears out of his throat.

“been teasing me s’long.. where’s y’er smart mouth now?” he groans as his hands slide up, up, up feeling every inch of skin he can reach.

you can only whimper in response as his hands move from groping your ass to your inner thighs, kneading and tracing gently, so close to the heat pooling in between them.

he pulls up your shirt to reveal your bare breasts, quickly licking and sucking on them, eyes closing in bliss as he humps against you.

“aki!” you moan, trying to pull his drooling mouth off your tender breast, nipple perking and hardening in his mouth, as you whine to get him to focus on your throbbing cunt.

his rutting into you turns particularly harsh at your cry of his name, already beginning to shove down his sweatpants as his voice comes out in a rough, gravelly groan. “what time is it?”

you’re so distracted, so lost in pleasure already, it takes you a moment to realize what he said. “h-huh?”

he reaches across you to flip over the clock resting on the coffee table by the couch.

11:59 pm.

christmas eve.

and in front of your very eyes, it flashes, red numbers illuminating you two.

12:00 am.

he turns to you, voice hoarse. "y-you said.."

rolling your eyes, you pull him down on top of you, nose-to-nose. "i know what i said aki, just fuck me, yeah?"

his sweatpants are already around his ankles, hard bulging cock pressed against your plush tummy, trickling precum, and forehead pressed to yours before you can even finish your sentence.

“you don’t know.. hah.. what y’er asking, sweetheart.” he groans out, before pushing his hips into you further, dick nestling into your quickly drenched panties, arousal starting to seep through stickily.

you moan, when he presses his entire face into your heaving breasts, licking sloppily and leaving trails of saliva pooling behind.

“now turn around, and lemme see those cute little panties you’ve been so eager to flaunt in my face, hm?”

you shiver at his voice, obeying as you get on all fours and turn around for him, practically feeling the burn of his eyes on your ass.

“ohh..” he purrs out, as he reads, your face flushing. “daddy huh?”

you squirm slightly, trying to squeeze your thighs together as you feel more slick pooling between you. “akiii..” you whine, swaying side to side, your ass just begging to be spanked.

“i know, baby..” no matter how much he wants to tease and make you beg after taunting him for so long, he’s just as desperate as you, and is already pulling your tiny thong to the side to line himself up, rubbing his thick, bludgeony tip along your sopping folds, both of you moaning in unison.

“you.. hah.. r-ready to feel me raw?” he pants out, already beginning to slide himself inside you.

your back arches, pushing back onto him to take more as you nod and whimper mindlessly.

he grunts, while filling you with more of his thick inches. now, without the condom, you’re able to feel every vein, every ridge, and every pulse. you swear you’re in nirvana with the way your pussy wraps and molds around his girth perfectly.

and he’s going so slow, and though you think he must be teasing you, what’s really happening is he’s already about to cum, from just being in you without a barrier for the first time.

you begin to push your ass back and forth impatiently, your pussy swallowing all of him in greedy little thrusts.

he moans, head tipping back as his hands pull at your hips, guiding you as the rough sound of skin on skin echoes, wet squelching ensuing.

you go faster, unused to the feel of his veiny cock plunging into you raw, and unable to get enough as you whimper and moan at the pleasurable stretch.

“oh.. baby.. s-slow down or m’gonna cum..” he groans from behind, hands weakly gripping onto your waist in an effort to set a more deliberate, steady pace.

you can’t help yourself though, grinding your perky ass back on him over and over again, tits bouncing as you move faster and faster.

aki groans, his whole body shuddering behind you, as he holds on to the last shred of his sanity, dick pulsating deep inside you.

you’ve never felt anything as good as this before, his tip scraping your cervix brutally, and all of his rough inches filling you to the very brim, your pussy stretched obscenely around him.

every throb is magnified and has you seeing more and more stars as the seconds pass. hefty balls smack against your ass, and your eyes roll back from the sheer pleasure of it all.

in fact, you’re so distracted you don’t notice your orgasm creeping closer and closer until it hits you all at once, your entire body seizing and twitching in spasms as your entire vision goes white, coming so hard you would’ve fallen forward if it weren’t for aki’s bruising grip on your hips.

in fact you’re cumming so hard, you don’t realize you’re squirting, until aki’s gasping, staring down at the glistening sheen that pours between your thighs, and coats his cock in your syrupy slick.

his eyes roll back in his head at the sight, and then he’s cumming too, pumping load after load of ribbony white seed, pulsing deep into your walls until you’re so full, you feel like you could burst.

“aki! s’too much..” you moan, legs quivering and eyes watering from the sheer stretch combined with everything he’s pumping you with.

“m’sorry! can’t stop.. ah.. fuck!” aki’s breathy, ragged voice can barely pierce through the haze swirling in your head as spurts continue to forcefully pulse into you, your fluttering cunt betraying you by sucking him further and milking him for every drop eagerly.

he quickly flips you over, burying his face in your neck with his cock starting to shoot blanks, mouthing small kisses along your collarbone.

you squirm underneath him, moaning as your bloated, cum-filled tummy is squished under him.

he notices, and leans back to peer down at your drooling, fucked-out expression.

“poor baby..” he coos, large hands coming down to press on your lower stomach.

instantly, creamy white seeps out of you, oozing and trickling to form a puddle below you, aki’s dilated pupils focusing on you completely as he breathes heavily. “can’t even take me raw after all that talk..”

he chuckles softly, before plunging his cock back all the way inside you again, plush walls cushioning and fitting around him snugly. “guess you’re just gonna hafta learn. because we’re not even close to done yet, sweetheart.”

tagslist (ask to be tagged!): @ghostedwriting @amanoava @fluffyfrog1619 @newnlovesjennie @b0n3s-is-gay @kyoukas-tofuxx @sakui1

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 8.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! (Also, English is not my native language)

Advent calendar includes: headcanons, snippets, one shots, imagines, blurbs etc.

Words: 1,430

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

A/N: Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And if you enjoy it so far, please let me know <3 On another side note; I didn't get to proof read it anymore, will do so tomorrow!

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

8th Dec. - Hex Play

“What now?” Dean asks, his eyes darting up from the small folded paper he had added to the hex bag in your hands. “We just… go to bed or what?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” You tightly wrap the red string around the leather pouch, sealing it for good so that neither of you will end up with a crows beak or a coyotes backbone in your face while you sleep. "And if we wanna leave, we just tear the paper apart."

The hex bag gets shoved under the mattress before both of you swing yourselves onto the bed and get comfortable, your hands instinctively searching one another to intertwine your fingers. For a moment, you both stay silent, your eyes glued to the ceiling in anticipation.

Then Dean’s (short) patience snaps and he grunts in annoyance, “This isn't wo-” “Son of a bitch,” he breaths out wide-eyed, taking in the sudden change of surrounding. One moment you were in your bed, next you both stand in the hallway of a hospital.

“No way,” you mutter just as befuddled, your eyes roaming the life like location while you turn around - just to get bumped into by a man in his white coat. “Whoa- watch it mate-”

“Nurse,” he nods at you with a sultry smile before he continues his way down the hall with his damn cowboy boots clamping against the floor. Wait. Cowboy boots? No fucking way this is- You whirl around to meet Dean’s face. And oh God, his green eyes were practically sparkling like the friggin’ vamp guy from Twilight.

“Dr. Sexy.” You say, hoping to snap him out of his swooning state.

“Doctor Sexy, M.D.” He corrects you. He watches him until he takes the corner at the end of the hallway and he finally manages to shift his focus to you for the first time, his lips parting at the sight. “Goddamn, honey.” His eyes widen once more, his tongue darting out briefly to swipe his lips, “This hex play’s workin’ like a charm.”

You look down at yourself, just now realizing that, right, the guy had addressed you as ‘nurse’. And lo and behold - you are wearing a nurse’s attire. Or well, let’s say a bit of a sluttier version of a nurse, but you had to admit, the short white skirt and the matching stockings had some sex-appeal. “So this is what you wrote down? This what you dream of?” You look up at Dean with a teasing smile as you notice him basically gnawing his bottom lip at the sight of you like this.

“Hell yeah,” he admits without hesitation, “You look so hot – I just – damn.” Yep, this was exactly what he had always dreamed of; the classic role play cliché of the sexy nurse. But it was you, it wasn’t any nurse, but actually you. Dean stares down at you, his mind seemingly short-circuited while you can make out a faint moan that he just tried to bite back. Your lips curl into a knowing smile while you begin to get into character. “Soooo…” you drawl in a sultry tone and taking a step closer until your breasts are pressed flush against his chest and his breath hitches at your unexpected move. You continue the teasing, your fingers slowly trailing up his doctors coat until they reach the first button of his shirt, playfully fumbling with it, “I think I need to do a check up on you… Doctor.”

“Y-Yes,” Dean stutters slightly, his breaths coming out in short, excited little huffs. You had barely even touched him and he is already so close to a whimpering mess. “Alrighty,” You chuckle while you grab him by the collar to lead him over to the next open door. “Time to get those pants down for your full body check.”

Dean stops in his tracks, trying – and failing – to hide the intense shudder that runs through his body at the way you play your role absolutely perfectly. “Damn, woman,” he mutters under his breath, his words underlined by a faint whine. “Wait- I know a better spot-” He grabs you around the waist and pulls you along, navigating you both past a dozen nurses and doctors until you two end up in the office of none others but Dr. feakin’ Sexy, M.D’s. Taking back the lead in this roleplay, you swiftly push him up against the wall, your red lips leaving a trail of lipstick kiss marks along his collarbone and all the way up to his cheekbone. Dean shudders under your touch, his voice a low whimper, “My God, hon-”

“Nurse,” you interject while you keep nipping at his pulse point, drawing another needy whimper from his lips. “I must be very thorough with my inspections...Dr. Winchester.” You announce against his skin and your fingers quickly go to work their way down each button.

Some minutes later, Dean is stripped completely naked, his entire body peppered with sweet red lipstick markings proving your thorough work. Your hands run along his inner thighs, the nails gently grazing his skin until one of them comes up to cup his testicles and the other wraps around his rock hard erection. Dean’s breath gets caught in his throat, his head falling back against the wall with a loud, strangled whimpering noise, halfway choked back by his teeth, biting his bottom lip.

You drop to your knees and your mouth quickly goes to work, earning yourself a row of guttural moans from him. With your head moving up and down in a tantalizing pace and your fingernails gently scratching the sensitive skin close by. “P-Please,” he starts to plead with you, his words laced with need and desperation, “Please- n-nurse,” each of his hands grab a fistful of your hair, his fingers tightening whenever you suck hard and his hips buck into your mouth. “W-wait,” he suddenly pulls you back, his voice breathless and his legs slightly trembling from how close he was to falling over the edge. You instantly stop, your eyes searching his while you lick your lips and wipe your chin clean with your thumb. “Is everything alright? You want me to stop?” You ask a little unsure while you stay kneeled in front of him.

“N-no, God no,” He clarifies quickly, still catching his breath, “But I don’t want this to end yet.”

Next thing you know, Dean scoops you up from the ground and with swift steps carries you over to the office desk where he sits you down on the edge of it. He leans over you, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate kiss, smearing your lipstick across your face. When he breaks the kiss, his emerald eyes lock onto yours, making sure you enjoy this just as much as he does. “You… like it too? This?” he whispers against your lips, hoping for your reassurance. You smile, your fingers gently threading through his dark blond hair while you whisper back. “Hell yeah I do.” Dean’s lips twitch into that trademark smirk of his and he doesn’t wait any longer to push up the little fabric that your skirt offers before he slips your panties aside to slip his cock inside you with a shared deep groan from both of you. His strong hands keep you close to him as he rocks his hips, pushing in and out of you slow at first. But then the need quickly builds up and he moans and pants into the crook of your neck, “Fff-uck- Y-you’re so good, so beautiful, s-so tight-,” his fingers dig into the flesh at your hips while he starts to thrust into you, making sure to hit all the right spots to hear his sweet little nurse moan as well.

You dig your nails into the skin of his back, clawing at him as you feel him push you closer and closer to the edge, that knot tightening up more by the second. One of his hands suddenly lets go of your hip to snake down past your bunched up skirt and right back up to your swollen clit, his rubbing index finger determined to make you come undone in more than one ways. With a loud whimper your hips buck against him and your legs wrap around his waist to pull him in, needing him deeper, to fill you up all the way. “D-doctor,” you whine, your clouded brain trying its best to stay in character despite your impending climax. “I- I’m close-”

“Me too,” he pants breathlessly, his hips increasing their pace, now set on getting you both over the edge. With another hard thrust, you feel your body tense up and the next moment the crash of the orgasm waves through your body while Dean cums at the same time with your walls clamping around him.

“God…” he pants heavily, his forehead dropped to your shoulder, “That… that was amazin’… You are amazing.”

*** “Y’know what I don’t get… wasn’t this supposed to be like our dreams combined?” Dean looks around the hospital’s hallway, searching for something which didn’t fit into the setting of his favourite TV-Show. His hair dishevelled and his doctors coat put back on sloppily. “Or did I miss somethin’?” His confused eyes trail back to meet yours with a raise of his eyebrow, his arm draped around your back pulling you a little closer. You shrug it off with a wry smile, “Guess it just picked yours over mine.” Dean grunts, not entirely buying your explanation while he rummages through his capes pockets to grab the small pouch. Then he pulls your piece of paper from the hex bag and a faint smirk appears on his lips, “Can I see what you wrote down?”

You snatch the small scrap of paper from his fingers and dodge his attempt to attain it back, “Hey-!” “That’s my secret!” You snigger mysteriously, the crumpled paper disappearing in your back pocket. “Yours was better anyway.”

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007

[lokischocolatefountain]

Seven

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: Gen (kind of a crack fic if you ask me)

Summary: You and Javi discuss children

“How many?”

“Hmm?”

“You keep saying children plural. How many do you want?” You asked, flipping through the pages of the magazine idly. You weren’t even reading, just looking at pictures and reading a gossipy headline about some of the other actress.

“Hmmm seven?”

“Fuck no!”

“Why not?”

“Why not? WHY NOT?” You asked, horrified. “Javier, I’m a human being, not a baby making machine. You have a government job and I’m just a lab tech. We will never have 7 kids money unless you pocket some of the cocaine you seize. God, can you imagine if they all wanted to go to law school? Or medical school?”

“I wasn’t thinking that far ahead,” he said, taking the magazine from you and setting it aside. He pulled you into his lap, kissing you neck from behind and making you squirm. “I was focused on how hot you’ll look pregnant.”

“Of course you were. Horndog,” you scolded, pinching the arm that held you close. He hissed, but didn’t loosen his hold, only pulling you in closer.

“Can you blame me? With such a hot girlfriend, a man is bound to let his imagination run wild.”

“Shut up.”

“Five?” He asked, making you angrier.

“Are you trying to have a family or form a basketball team?”

He laughed before kissing her lips. “Four?” He bargained.

“Three is the absolute maximum for me.”

“Then three is good.”

“Yeah?” You asked, softer when you heard the sincerity in the reply that came with no hesitation.

“Mhmm.”

“But everything is up for debate after the first one,” you added, just in case. Pregnancy did not look fun and you didn’t want him holding you to this if you were too fucked up from the first pregnancy to try again. “I might hate being pregnant and never want to have another one again. We might have to be satisfied with one baby.”

“That’s good too, baby. I only want as many children as you’ll give me. Whether that’s one or three or seven.”

“Definitely not seven.” You smiled, adjusting yourself to sit back on the sofa with just your legs in his lap. “And no bargaining on gender either. If we have three daughters, you can’t ask for another one just to try for a son.”

“I would love three daughters. Why do you think I’ll ask you for a fourth one after that?”

“I don’t know,” you said, shrugging. “Men usually want sons. To teach them soccer or go fishing or whatever.”

“I’ll teach our three daughters soccer. Girls have legs. And I don’t care for fishing anyway. If they want to be with animals, they can take care of the ranch.”

“God, I planning my life out with a ranchero who wants a million kids!” You said, laughing.

“You’re just realizing that?”

“Oh god, I don’t know what’s worse— ranchero or DEA agent. Do you like chop wood shirtless or something? Cause I can’t handle that. I will end up having 7 kids if I saw that.”

“You’re mixing up rancheros with lumberjacks, baby. But I’ll learn to chop wood if you want. And I’ll teach our daughters to chop wood too. And how to shoot. And how to fix a car. Teach them plumbing and everything. So that they don’t have to call their boyfriends at midnight to ask them to fix their sink,” he said, making you giggle at the recollection of that night.

“Oh please, you weren’t complaining,” you scoffed, reminding him of the night he came over to fix your sink and ended up staying all night and all day in your bed.

“Exactly. No boy is slithering into my daughter’s bed like that. I won’t allow it.”

You scoffed. Oh you poor little fool… “You think my father didn’t teach me how to fix my sink, Javier? That I didn’t break it just to invite you over?”

“Fuck!”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. Let’s have three sons.”

.

.

.

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[allywthsr]

CHRISTENING | (l.norris)

summary: Lando wants to christen the Christmas tree

wordcount: 1.5k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: smut!

notes: the only smut this advent calendar.. what are we thinking?

advent calendar

”It looks beautiful, doesn’t it?“

”It does.“

”We should christen it.“

”The Christmas tree?“

”Yes!“

”Lando, what are you thinking?“

”I want you to lay down under the tree and open your legs, then I‘ll rail you until you’re screaming and begging for me to let you cum.“

You whispered a low ’fuck‘ and got on your knees, tugging on his waistband of his sweatpants. You pulled his pants and underwear down and licked your lips when you saw his cock springing towards you, he wasn’t fully hard yet, but that was something that could be changed in a few minutes. With your fingertips, you touched his dick lightly and teased him with it, tickling his tip and grazing all the way down to his balls.

”If you’re not touching it properly right now, I won’t let you cum today.“

With that threat in mind, you grabbed his cock, and licked from top to bottom, wetting it, so you had it easier when you were giving him a handjob. He started to make little noises, indicating he was enjoying what you were doing. The movements got faster and he grew harder in your hand, with every stroke you did, you were still teasing him by grazing his balls every now and then, you knew he was sensitive to touches down there. When you felt him twitch in your touch, you let him go and lay down on the floor, due to the underfloor heating, you wouldn’t get cold.

Lando was fast to sit on his knees between your legs, after removing his T-shirt, and pulling your pants down, just like you did to him. Your panty was thrown somewhere in the living room, and Lando took a second to admire your pussy. He often did this, taking his time and just looking at you, he couldn’t believe you were his. He laid down on his chest and his face was directly in front of your pussy, he grabbed your inner thighs and pushed them outwards, so he had better access to your core, brushing soft kisses on your legs and around your pussy.

”Fuck baby, you’re glistening“, with that he used his thumb and placed it on your clit, opening your pussy lips a bit more and letting his thumb swipe through it, collecting the juices.

You shivered at the contact, it already felt amazing.

”Look at how wet you are“, he held his finger to your face and you could see your fluids almost dripping off his thumb. You moaned quietly and he sucked his thumb in his mouth, licking off the juices. He wanted to tease you, so he blew on your pussy, the cold air made you shiver even more, and the sensation felt phenomenal.

Just after a whiny ’Lando‘, he finally got to work and licked across your slit, you let out tiny noises, he was a master at this. He opened up your pussy again and took a deep lick out of it.

”Are you enjoying this, babygirl?“

You could only moan and grip his hair, so he would start working on your pussy again.

He started off with kitten licks, teasing you to the fullest. With every lick he got deeper and at some point he even entered you with his tongue, breathy moans escaped your mouth, and started pulling on his strands, you needed to hold onto something. He drew little eights on your slit and when he finally arrived at your clit, that boy wasn’t stopping, he was licking all sorts of shapes on your bud, and you couldn’t hold it any longer. But before you could cum, he pulled his tongue off of you and let his pointer finger circle your clit, slipping it with the middle finger inside of you, slowly pumping them in and out while his tongue found its way back to your clit, toying with it.

”Are you close?“

”Y..Yes.“

”Do you want to come?“

”Lando… please…“

”Beg more for it.“

”Lando, please let me cum, I can’t contain it any longer, you make me feel so good.“

”Cum, babygirl.“

His words tipped you over the edge and you were left panting on the floor, while he sat up and looked down at you, seeing what he did to you, but you could also see what you did to him, his chin was glistening with your fluids. You were a mess and he barely touched you yet, again, he licked his fingers, so none of your juices would go to waste.

”Are you ready for my cock?“

”Yes Lando, I need it.“

With that he grabbed his dick in his hands and gave it a few pumps, getting ready for the sweet sensation he was going to feel in a second. He put his tip on your clit, and started moving it in circles, you were still sensitive because of your orgasm, and this brought you closer to your second orgasm of the night. He let go of your clit and focused on moving his tip through your lips, wetting his dick, so he had no trouble pushing into you.

You both were moaning when he slowly entered you, he stretched you out perfectly. With every centimeter he entered you deeper, you whined for more, he was so big, it surprised you every time how he fitted into you with no problem. When he was fully inside of you, he started kissing you with force, wet kisses were placed everywhere, on your face, along your jaw, on your neck, and after he pulled your T-shirt off, he clung his mouth to your nipple and sucked on it. While he focused on your right boob, he grabbed your left one with his hand and massaged it, pinching your nipple between his fingers.

”Move, Lando, I can’t hold it anymore.“

”Are you my needy baby?“

”Yes, I am. I need your big cock.“

”I‘m all yours.“

With that, he started snapping his core against yours, and you moaned at the force, he was not playing any games today, Lando was horny and you could feel it by the speed his hips met yours. The room was filled with the sound of your and Lando’s panting, as well as the sound of skin slapping against skin.

The little sounds Lando’s mouth escaped sounded beautiful and turned you on even more, Lando wasn’t that big of a moaner, only when he orgasmed, but short breaths always came out of him.

You lifted your legs and crossed them behind Lando’s back, forcing him to go even faster and harder. ”You need it fast and hard today?“

You could only nod, your mind was clouded in the post and pre-orgasm haze. You needed to hold onto something, you aimlessly reached around you, trying to find something. Without thinking about it, you grabbed a branch of the Christmas tree and with the other hand you found Lando’s back, pressing your nails into his skin, creating little crescents.

Lando was kissing your neck again, sucking slightly on it, but he was careful to not leave any marks.

You could feel yourself getting closer, just as Lando was, his movements became sloppier and his thumb found its way back to your clit, rubbing slight circles on it, stimulating you even more.

”Lando, you make me feel so good.“

”Ugh baby, you take me so well, your walls are clenching around me, I can feel it.“

You slightly pulled on the branch out of reflex and you could hear the baubles clashing against each other. That made Lando look up, ”Look at you, having to grip the Christmas tree because I‘m fucking you so good. But don’t pull on it too hard, or it‘ll fall over“, in your orgasm brain you didn’t really register what he said, just hearing him say to stop gripping the tree and you did, pulling on his hair instead.

With his last energy, Lando sped up his movements and thrusted even harder in you. Your walls clenched around him, your breath started to hitch with his every thrust, and he made you see stars.

”I‘m so close.“

”Cum for me, Y/N.“

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, your back was arched and the orgasm wave washed over you, your panting became harder, and moans escaped your mouth.

A few moments later, Lando also came with moans and he painted your insides white, now he collapsed on top of you, barely holding himself up. With heavy breaths he pressed kisses all over your face, stopping on your mouth, where he lingered.

His lips were puffy and red after a while, you probably looked the same, but you both had a satisfied grin on your face, while you went to the shower to ’clean up‘, but it really just was an excuse for round two.

[softpascalito]

Christmas Baking for Three - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You're tired, pregnant, angry and you mess up the cookies meant for Joel. He gets a full blast of your hormones - and still manages to surprise you.

Relationships: Joel Miller x F!Reader WC: 1800 Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Baking, Christmas Cookies, Christmas, Pregnancy, Female Reader, No use of y/n, Fights, Mention of normal pregnancy struggles, Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Nicknames, Kissing, Crying, Joel Miller in an apron Read on AO3 full advent calendar (updated daily)

notes: another lil calendar piece that is also dedicated to steph's winter writing challenge (@toomanystoriessolittletime) with the trope baking <3 i also wanted to mention a very short but very lovely pregnancy piece by SwiggitySwagNightmareStag with peña that i found really inspiring in regards to p characters and how they handle pregnancy. you can read it here! <3

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

You swore under your breath as you opened the oven door, only to be met with a gush of heat and the smell of burnt dough. The cookies that you had so carefully prepared, cut out in the shapes of christmas trees and hearts, had taken on a dark brown color, the furthest row from you already smoking slightly.

“Fuck-” With a quick move, you maneuvered the try of burnt cookies onto the sink to let them cool off. Looking at them in broad daylight, it was clear that they were barely edible and in no way as enjoyable as they should be.

You ignored the surge of anger inside of yourself, anger at the oven for being so damn unreliable, at the timer that you’d meant to replace ages ago, at yourself. You’d been too distracted with cleaning up, then being forced to take a quick trip to the bathroom upstairs and getting sidetracked with laundry.

A groan left you at the realization. The laundry was still soaking in the bathtub, abandoned the second you’d caught a glimpse of the clock and realized how long the cookies had been baking for.

Angry tears shot into your eyes. It felt like a never-ending battle between you and your ever-growing list of things to do, to prepare, to keep track of. And this had been the one thing you’d wanted to do for him, to thank him for taking over so many of said things now that you were in your third trimester. Maybe you could start over, hide the failed cookies, to spare your another embarrassment in front of-

As if summoned by your thoughts, the door of the small mudroom bordering the kitchen opened with a creak. Merely a second later and clearly alarmed by the smell, he was hurrying into the room, eyes raking through the kitchen until they landed on you. His shoulders slumped slightly as he took in your form, checking you from top to bottom.

“Are you okay?” Joel's voice was soft, despite him being a little out of breath. You could see the basket filled with firewood behind him. Another task that used to be yours before your stomach had grown too big.

He watched your reaction, carefully making his way around the counter, glancing at the burnt cookies in passing. It was enough to make the tears finally spill from your eyes, rolling down your face and landing on the shirt that was already stained with flour. And the anger inside of you? It had finally found an outlet.

The poor man didn't even have time to brace himself before you started yelling.

“You arent supposed to be home, what the fuck are you doing here?!” He looked taken aback, but only for a moment. Then his face seemed to relax. You didn't want him to relax. You wanted him to be as angry as you were and in as much pain and misery. You knew it was a horrible, horrible thought, but you couldn't help it. You wanted him to have to run to the toilet upwards of twenty times a day, to have him woken up by a human kicking inside of him at the most ungodly hours.

“You said you'd be at work until five! You're not-” Another sob escaped you as the knot in your chest seemed to grow exponentially, “You're not supposed to be here yet and-”

You couldn't find a single trace of anger on his face. Not in the crease between his brows, not in the corners of his mouth, not even in his eyes. All you could find was concern.

“Hey-” Joel whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks. They were cold but you leaned into the touch regardless, “What's going on, darlin? Talk to me, please.”

You hiccuped slightly as you tried to speak, the words fighting hard to not get outside. As far as your body was concerned, there was no point in telling him, in making him a bigger part of your currently miserable experience than he already had to be.

“Burned- I burned the cookies-” You mumbled, “I wanted- wanted to surprise you.”

Your arms finally wrapped around him, your body fitting snug against his, even with your baby bump between you. Joel pulled you closer, one hand supporting your back while the other gently stroked your hair, “Shhh, it's okay. You're okay.”

He held you like that for a while, occasionally whispering words of gentle encouragement into your ear until the sobs had stopped. Then, he nudged you towards the living room, guiding you to sit down on one of the armchairs next to the window. He stayed by your side, kneeling down in front of you as he kept his hands on your legs, gently rubbing your thigh.

“There we are,” Joel mumbled softly, producing a handkerchief from nearby and wiping the last of your tears from your cheeks. He gave you a few more moments of silence before he spoke.

“Wanna talk about it?” You opened your mouth to decline, to push him away and deal with it yourself. It's what you would have done a few months ago. But, as he kept reminding you, you were a team now. No, not just a team. Parents. Soon-to-be-parents. He-was-once-before-but-you-were-new-to-all-this-parents.

“It's just been a lot,” you mumbled, watching as Joel nodded along, soft brown eyes radiating understanding. “And I'm already putting so much work on you on top of your normal duties so I thought- I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Joel hummed quietly, his thumb pressing into your thigh a little, “You do nice things for me all the time, darlin’.”

“I don't. Not with-” You helplessly gestured to your stomach. You could practically see Joel's expression getting a little more serious at that, “Baby, I promise you do. You're here when I come home, right? You fall asleep next to me. You kiss me when you wake up in the morning. Don't need more than that, baby.”

Almost instantly, the tears were back. A thick one rolled down your cheek and Joel reached up just in time to catch it.

“I appreciate you wanting to bake for me, godda-” He stopped himself from cursing, a habit he’d picked up in the last few weeks, with the due date coming ever closer and him insisting that you should at least try to bring up a civilized child. You had a feeling it had less to do with your child and more with the amount of curse words Ellie dropped on a daily basis, but if it made Joel happy, you wouldn't argue against it.

He sighed, “I really do appreciate it. And you know I think your cookin’ is nothing short of magic,” he mumbled quietly. Then he shook his head, his hand wandering to gently rest on your round stomach, “But it's not why I'm with you.”

“Besides, you're already doin’ a whole lot of baking in here,” he added with a small smile, gently patting your stomach and you couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

“I wouldn't exactly call it baking.”

Joel raised a brow, “No, ‘m pretty sure it is. I made a real nice dough, put it right in here, turned up the heat and now I just gotta wait for it to be done.”

“You're such an idiot, Miller,” you offered weakly as you leaned down towards him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He smirked against your lips, “If being an idiot gets you to stop crying, I'll do it more often.”

The kiss barely had time to get more heated before you gently pushed back against Joel's chest, “Gotta finish the laundry upstairs.” A small frown built on his face, “We agreed I'd do that. Ain't good for your back, baby.”

“I told you, I've been-” He actually cut you off this time, squeezing your thigh a little to make you fall silent, “Remember what I said? When you told me you were pregnant?”

You raised a brow, “Before or after you almost fainted?” Joel sent you a playful glare at that, causing you to sigh, “You said we were in this together. That you- that you'd be here for it all.”

“That's right,” he mused softly, his thumb still absent-mindedly caressing your thigh. 

“Now, let me go take care of the laundry and you take a nap, yeah? You look-” He paused for a moment, clearly trying to find a nice way to say it, “You look real tired, darlin’.”

You drifted off to the sound of clothes being washed in the bathtub in the next room and to Joel's soft humming of a lullaby he’d been practicing. If this works just half as good on our baby, you thought right before falling asleep, we’re not going to half a single sleepless night.

When you wake up, the rays of afternoon sun are filtering through the windows, giving the house the warm glow you like it so much for. Stumbling into the kitchen, you're met with a sight that you've never seen before.

Joel Miller, an apron tied around his front, kneading away on a piece of dough. Your small laughter alerts him to your presence and you swear you can spot the faintest blush on his cheeks as you practically skip towards him.

“If you wanted an excuse to wear that, you could've just said so,” you tease, leaning against the counter as you watch him. Joel grumbles softly but the small smile on his face isn't lost on you, “ ‘bout time you wake up. Wanna help?”

You frown slightly- and then you realize what he’s doing. Baking bread is something you do often, but this isn't that. The cookie recipe you'd been using earlier is placed next to him, the dough looks exactly the same yours had before you’d burned it.

“Figured we both like cookies. Plus it doubles as a Christmas activity and, well.”

You kiss him. Once, twice, only stopping when he forces you to. He's perfect.

You bake together this time, with you showing him how to get the cut-outs just right, him sneaking a few pieces of the dough into his mouth when he thinks you’re not looking. It’s cozy and relaxing and for the first time in weeks, you seem to forget all about the struggles of being a pregnant woman.

You both sit in front of the oven afterwards, you in Joels lap, your bodies intertwined, both watching eagerly as the cookies slowly turn golden. He kisses your head, his nose nuzzling your hair a few times.

“Next time you’re overwhelmed like that?” He mumbles quietly, “Just let me know, yeah? You know I'm here. For you and the little one”

You nod softly, resting your head against his chest, “I know.”

notes: as always, thank you for reading. i adore each and every one of you. if you enjoyed this, feel free to give me an early christmas present by leaving a comment or reblogging <3

[monstersflashlight]

Advent calendar: Day 6. Gnome attack

A/N: This is the closest I’m going to get to a crack story, this is just very funny to me. I don’t find gnomes particularly sexy, but I do love them (to the point of having one tattooed), so this is just very funny in a sexual way. Hope you like it, and at least takes a chuckle out of you, enjoy!

Gnomes x fem!reader || free use, dub-con, inappropriate use of gardening tools (sex toys), fisting (technically), breeding

You hated gardening. It was not your thing, but when you bought a house with a pretty garden, you couldn’t fathom letting it go to waste, so you hired a big crew of gnomes. They were highly qualified and came with lots of recommendations, so you were more than happy to hire them. They were so tiny you could barely see their eyes under their cute hat, only their long hair peeking from under it, and their cute little nose. They were adorable. And you enjoyed watching them work, they were weirdly entertaining as you let your mind run free.

You spent hours and hours watching them, they were the most interesting thing in your house, and as many hours as they passed there, as much you’d be staring. They didn’t complain, they seemed to like the attention. Maybe a little too much…

They didn’t say anything about it to you, they didn’t need to. You started to feel… things. And so you became bolder around them. Hanging out with skimpy outfits, offering them lemonade as you leaned down with a very low neck that left nothing to the imagination. They ate it up, and always looked when you walked past them, making you feel powerful and sexy.

Until one day they had enough, and you welcomed their attention with more joy than they expected.

They weren’t working when you came out to the garden, they were staring at the door as you walked out and waited until you were in the middle of the garden to run to you with only one thing in mind: your pussy. And you screamed in delight when their tiny adorable forms launched at you and started ripping off your clothes. Your laughter and their desperate moans formed a symphony of ecstasy that drove you mad with pent up desire.

There were little tongues and fingers licking and poking. There were hot mouths sucking around your erect nipples, pointy teeth hitting all your pleasure points as they marked you as their own. Someone was sucking on your clit like their life depended on it, and you had the first of many, many orgasms. They continued the assault to your senses as you thrashed under them, tiny bodies holding you down as they had their fill of your pleasure over and over.

You looked down just in time to see the biggest of them, which was not much, grabbing one of the gardening tools they were using before you arrived, flipping it around and using the handle to push inside of you. You screamed in pleasure when he twitched it inside of you, hitting your G-spot perfectly as they cheered around you, more hands and mouths joining the orgy.

Your body was writhing with pleasure: too much, too fast, too soon.

But you couldn’t get enough.

Multiple of them had their itty bitty cocks out, jerking furiously over your body as you orgasmed once again. The leader made them stop, emitting some guttural sounds that made your pussy quiver around the handle of the tool inside of you, and then they all moved in unison. They positioned themselves in a line, two of them holding your legs apart as another one sat on your lower belly, controlling the slow fucking of the tool as he rubbed his free hand around your sensitive clit.

One after the other jerked off in front of you, adding more and more gnome cum to your messy pussy until you were dripping and the sounds of your mixed fluids, plus theirs, plus the tool moving in and out was deafening. It was the only thing you could hear, the filthy sounds of sex juices as you came once again.

And again.

And again.

By the time the leader arrived, all the others already came over your pussy and you had come so many times you lost count. He pulled the tool away after a few short thrusts with the handle, leaving you breathless as he pushed his tiny arm inside of you. You screamed at the top of your lungs as another orgasm ripped through your body and everyone of them cheered joyful as if the bacchanal ended.

When he pulled his arm back, he used your juices as lube to jerk himself right at your entrance, coming inside of you and pushing his arm inside of you once again, as deep as he could, taking his cum with it. Breeding you. He then did it again. And again. Until you felt so full of come you were almost ready to burst, but it felt so good you couldn’t care less.

Later, when the orgy had ended and they helped you back inside, you realized your neighbors probably saw… and that only made you horny once again as they laughed at your neediness.

They definitely gave you a reason to love gardening.

[deepestnightcolor]

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Kinkmas - 15th of December⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

ᴀ/ɴ: If you are still here, I hope you are still enjoying your little advent calendar! Open the door, see if it is for you and I hope you like it!

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 2804 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: cursing, drool, comfort sex, possessiveness, praise, pierced dick, raw fucking, creampie, taking pictures of you, Sam just wants to make you feel good because you are hurt, but don't worry, he is giving his best!

He just did not get it. Could not understand, no matter how hard he tried. And he probably never would – he would simply never understand how anyone could hurt you. Precious you with a glimmer in your eyes that made his head spin, a smile that lit up his world and a touch that made him melt, ready to be shaped and formed into whatever you intended him to be for the day. Yes, perhaps Sam was a little biased here with how down bad he was, but he was sure everyone in the damn town would agree that your piece of shit ex did not deserve you. Leaving you just before the feast of the winterstar? Sam was not a violent man, but he was willing to make well-placed exceptions. He had found you in tears in front of your house, phone clutched in one hand, face hidden by the other, sobbing quietly. It had broken his damn heart, had made his fist clench in a bitter rage he had never felt before, body already tense, ready to go scorched earth on what- or whoever had caused the scenery in front of him. But seeing you look up at him, pretty eyes still filled with tears, cheeks red and wet, lip wobbling dangerously, he knew he had to do something else first; be there for you. He had knelt down in the snowy dirt in front of you and had silently pulled you against his chest. At first you had tensed up, but that had quickly faded as you had melted into Sam’s embrace, sobbing into his shirt, your nails digging into the fabric as if you were scared that he would leave just as quickly as he pulled you into a hug. Truth was – Sam would have never left. His heart was absolutely breaking; it was like the pain you felt went over to him, running through his body, pinching at his soul, slamming its ugly fists against his heart. “I am here,” he whispered against your hair, his big hand stroking down your back and back up to your shoulders. “I am here now, promise.”

He didn’t know how long you had sobbed in his arms, and frankly, he didn’t care. What he had cared about was the fact that your sobs slowly had become more infrequent and quieter, that your body hadn’t shaken as violently anymore. You had slowly become more relaxed in his arms, and yet he had still held you tightly to his chest, his long fingers not stopping their brushing through your hair. “Sam?” You had whispered, making him tilt his head. “Yeah?” “I…I need you to do something for me.” “Anything-“ “I need you to f-…fu—I need you to fuck me, Sam.”

Sam also wasn’t sure how often he had asked you if you were sure. Five, ten, or even fifteen times? He had asked you as he had picked you up and pressed you against his body. He had asked you as he was carrying you inside. He had popped the question just before your lips had been about to collide, making you do that cute sniffle-laugh that both tugged at his heartstrings and at the corner of his lips. You had gripped strands of his hair and pulled him into a kiss that could have been described as nothing but desperate, and Sam was shameless enough to say that he had matched that energy. Biting at your lower lip to let his pierced tongue lick over yours, sucking at it to taste you, gripping your ass with those big hands of his in an attempt to press you even closer to his body. He probably shouldn’t have given in, but he was here to help, right? This didn’t have to do with his own selfish desires. Wasn’t connected in any way to the nights he had fisted at his cock, your precious name at the tip of his tongue. Not at all related to the times he had daydreamed about being your boyfriend instead of that prick he had never liked.

“Are you sure?” He asked, peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses over your neck, enjoying the feeling of that preciously soft skin against his lips, the softness only inviting him to bite. Mark over where that fucking loser had been, reclaim what he had lost. “Yes, I a- fuck, Sam,” you whined, lulling your head to the side to bare more of it to him. Yoba, how could anyone be so stupid to let you go? But you didn’t need to worry – he would make sure you would know just how precious you were. How deserving you were of feeling good.

Turned out, you were showing him how good sex could feel. Sam’s eyes were rolled back in the far of his skull, his cock buried balls-deep inside of you, and holy fuck, he probably would never be able to fuck anyone that wasn’t you. He had to swallow several times to be able to even utter a word, Adam’s apple bobbing violently. “Fuck, baby, love, oh my fucking- you feel so good…” His dick was throbbing inside of you, pink, pierced tip shamelessly leaking pre-cum as he took a moment just to look down at you. Hair spread out beneath you like some sort of halo, pretty tits on display for him, thighs spread open for him to be accommodated. Slobber and freshly bitten bruises were forming on your skin, making his tongue feel heavy with split. Yoba, you were gorgeous, like a damn angel had crafted you. And yet you were in pain, pain you didn’t fucking deserve, but by hell, he was going to fuck that pain away.

He leaned down to press a quick, rather sloppy kiss to your lips, his cock throbbing dangerously in your cunt. He hadn’t moved much yet, and you still sucked him off so well already, squishy walls wrapping around him in a way that knocked the breath out of his lungs, and he had to fear he was going to fucking cum already. “S-sam,” you whispered, your hips bucking toward him in a loving grind, making him almost go cross-eyed. “Baby,” he whispered, breath quivering with his words. He slowly pulled his hips back, away from you, away form the grinds you gifted him; and holy fuck did it pain him to do so, especially when you whined his name again, lower lip wobbling just like it had done before. Sam gave you an almost soothing smile, one that was supposed to keep back the moans that were bubbling at the top of his throat. That first thrust would forever hold him in a chokehold – engraved in his brain, hammered in his heart. Oh, how your eyes rolled back and how your breasts bounced. He had even felt a quiver ripple through your thighs, so snuggly wrapped against his hips. He was fucking addicted in one stroke, forcing him to pull back, just to snap his hips forward again. His teeth were digging into his lower lip as he began to set a pace, blue eyes glued to your body, drowning in what his dick did to you. Your whole body seemed to react to him, your head thrown into the pillow as the pierced tip of his dick bullied forward, pushing deeper, deeper, deeper. You looked absolutely beautiful, and Sam forever fucking prayed that he would never forget that look on your face. That look that he caused. “You are so fucking- you are fucking- Yoba, fuck,” he started, eyes rolling as your walls squeezed him. Did you like that, huh? Liked being praised? Did that fucking douche dare not to praise you enough? Shit, he would praise you, promise. “You are fucking everything, baby- come on, touch me, baby. You can, let me feel those nails dig in my back.” His words seemed steady at the surface, but below there was a groan lingering, an animalistic sound of pleasure from the depths of his body. One he couldn’t keep in anymore when your eyes fluttered, those pretty orbs finding him, the look of sadness you had had being replaced by something more…primal and lustful. One that only grew louder when your nails did sink into his skin, scratching down along his spine. “That’s it, baby. Look so pretty, even prettier on my dick- hooo…fuck, you are squeezing me, baby. You like this? Yeah? You like my dick? Does it make you feel as good as you deserve, princess?” He panted, eyes slipping shut for just a moment, letting his instincts take over. Instincts to fuck you hard and deep, make you feel every. Damn. Inch. Of. His. Cock. He hadn’t even noticed that his thrust had gotten harder, fast, hard fucks of his cock deep inside of your pussy, making your body rut along the mattress, bed frame squeaking sounds of annoyed disagreement. But Sam didn’t care, the bed could break, he would buy you a new one, build it with his own two hands if you wanted him to, if you only kept looking at him like this – mouth open, eyes rolling and fluttering, but always with a dick-drunken look in them, a trail of spit on your chin as he pounded into you. He wanted to make you forget, wanted to make you feel as good as he did with his balls pulled tight and the thick vine on the underside of his cock throbbing, but he doubted he ever could, not when he felt like on cloud six and cloud nine, fuck that, whatever highest cloud there was, he was on that one.

“Sa-ham!” You squeaked, causing another groan to tear for him. He just had to. Just had to make sure you would have a reminder of this. His eyes wandered to the phone you had dropped only when he had started kissing you, tongue licking over your body as if he was set out to devour you, and now it was in his big hand. He looked at you, nodding at the phone, his hips stopping out of necessity – the blond tried to ignore the way his cock pulsed, the way your cunt squished and gushed, the sloppy wet having formed a creamed ring around his fat shaft. “Can I, baby? Gosh, you just look so pretty, look atcha…Want you to remember how good you can feel,” he rambled, licking over his lips, watching your face intently. You were panting, still in a daze, and yet there it was, a nod. Your thighs wrapped tighter around his hips, hands reaching up to grab his face and pull him into a kiss. Sam happily complied; he would have been stupid if he hadn’t. He grunted, shifting more of his weight on his forearms, adding some pressure on your body, just to make you feel a little closer. He needed it, and he hoped you enjoyed it, too, as your tongues clashed and bumped. Sam’s hips slowly began to resume their pace from before, heavy balls smacking against sloppy wet skin, cunt squelching whenever he drew back. “Gorgeous, wonderful girl. Ya deserve the world, baby. Gonna pick the stars from the sky for ya if ya want that,” he slurred, eyes watering with just how good your pussy felt. His fingers were fucking shaking as he pressed the camera button, pressing a small kiss against your lips before picking himself up just a little, allowing the camera to capture his cock pounding your pussy. Gosh, he was in love, with how you scratched him, how you moaned for him, how you snapped up your hips whenever he went especially hard – with you. “Good girl, good fucking girl, pussy taking me so well, holy fuuuuuck,” he panted. He felt the coils in his tummy twisting and turning, becoming tighter, threatening to snap, snap for you, ready to mark you up, cover the tracks of those who weren’t deserving. He was moaning your name quietly, the camera now lifted higher, trying to capture as much of your beauty as humanly possible, free hand groping your bouncing tit. “You are amazing, baby, hng- I am- oh fuck, you are going to make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that, princess.” His words were hissed through grit teeth, which was understandable with how close he was to the edge.

“You deserve the world, baby, deserve being pounded stupid by good dick every day, yeah? That’s it baby,” he cooed, hand leaving your tit to press his thumb against your throbby little clit, drinking in how your body twitched, back arching in, the moans that had fallen from your lips now mixing with mumbles of his name. That’s how he liked it, having you dumb on his cock, just how he was absolutely drunk on your pussy. “I can feel you squeezin’ me, babe. Gonna cum? Huh? Tell me. Look at me and tell me,” he ordered, whimpering at the way your nails dug deeper into his skin. Yet your eyes met, your head nodding. “Gonna-gonna cuuum! Oh FUCK, Sam!” You suddenly whined, your back snapping up again, an absolutely unholy whined sound escaping you. He knew he almost had you there, and he needed to bring you there – he was sure he would fucking die otherwise. “Yes, yes, yes, cum for me! Bless me like that, baby, please. Oh my Yoba, please cum for me, babygirl. Need you to drench me. Gonna do that for me? Are you? Pretty, pretty -fuhuuuck- pretty please,” he panted between harsh snaps of hips and quick flicks of his thumb, trying his best to hold back, trying not to pump you full just yet. Being begged like this did seem to do something to you, because it made you sob out his name as you were pushed over the edge, a wave of orgasmic bliss washing over you. Your toes curled as you pressed Sam against you, your legs locking him in as if you wanted to make sure he could not fucking escape you – as if he ever wanted that-, small begs and pleas leaving your kiss-bitten lips. Sam moaned in your ear, shamelessly so, kissing the shell as his hips sloppily fucked into you. If he had been precise before, he was nothing but humping you like a mere bitch in heat right now, kissing at your neck, your ear, whispering how good you were doing for him, desperately trying to keep the camera lifted steadily. “Made a mess on my cock, baby- ugh, so fuckin’ hot. I- shit, princess I am gonna fuckin’ fill you up, I am- mmpf-“ the last sound was drowned in the throaty moan that left poor Sam, the knot in his stomach finally snapping at a single word that left your lips: “please.” But who could blame him? It sounded so beggy, so whiny, so earnest. And shit, Sam would deliver.

He was left absolutely breathless as he came, nestled deep inside your squishy walls, ropes of cum filling your precious cunt. Poor Sam was shivering, phone shaking in his hand was he rutted, humping his cum deeper inside of you, hoping to fill you to the brim. Sam was just a man, after all, shamelessly milking himself with quick little thrusts, much softer than before. He could feel the world around him spinning, eyes watering again as he rutted, and rutted, and rutted, hoping to fuck a memory inside of you that you could hold onto. Only when he deemed himself drained did his hips slow, greedy Sam not able to bring himself to stop completely, even though he had nothing to give anymore. Until he saw your face. Lulled in the pillows, blissed smile on your spit-wet lips, eyes cross-eyed as you looked at where you connected. He had deemed it impossible, but his cock twitched, filling you with another rope of cum, bringing him close to sob. You were just perfect, weren’t you? Even in his fucked-out mind he was able to zoom in on your face, voice breathlessly whispering another praise. “You are absolutely perfect…Gosh, you are- you are the sun, baby. Fuckin’ hell.” It might not have made sense to you in that moment, but to him, it did. It always would. You were the sun and he was nothing like a mere moth, drawn to your light, ready to worship you, even if he would end up burnt in the end. A small smile tugged on his lips as he saved the video, panting still as he leaned down to kiss you. To his surprise, you kissed back again, your sweaty hands holding his cheeks affectionately. Hey, maybe he had fucked some of the pain away. And if not, he could always manage another round. Just for you, of course, sunshine.

[loonyloopylupin96]

Prompt: Advent | @moonwater-microfic | Words: 419

The October full moon had been particularly rough for Remus that year, but as he settles down in the library, just beside the door to the restricted section, he begins to feel like a normal student again. A normal student with a lot of work to catch up on.

After an hour, he's on a roll and his study is going well. Although he'd benefit from a bit of extra time he's loathe to request an extension - it wouldn't be fair to the others - so he continues on feeling quite focused in his own little world.

That is, until he senses someone approach.

"Are you an apparition? Or have you actually come back to school?"

He looks up to see Regulus approaching. There's a look on his face that gives Remus pause. It's some sort of twisted amalgamation of relief and… anger?

"I'm here-"

"Because I'm hoping you're an apparition. The real you would surely have sent me a letter or something to say you were okay, and not just hidden away in the fucking library when you got back."

Closing the book with a gentle sigh, he savours the silent seconds available to him as he sets it aside.

"I was going to come and find you once I'd made some progress on catching up, you know how it is-"

"No, I can't say I do," he argues. "You vanish suddenly, say nothing, and come back looking like you're at death's door. You don't tell me a god-damned thing. What am I supposed to think?"

The question hangs in the air between them.

"Right," Regulus continues, bitterly, "Forget it. I-"

"I'm sorry," Remus says at last, though he's speaking in such a low voice it's a wonder the other hears him at all. "I know you've been worried about me, and I know it's hard not knowing, but… I'm okay."

"Does that mean you're not going to be going off sick again?"

The silence answers on his behalf.

Regulus exhales, but as he stares furiously ahead of him, between the long row of shelves, he shuffles his hand over so his smallest finger can brush against Remus'.

"I had your return on my calendar, you know," he says, voice softening. "The advent of Lupin. Well, I just marked it as 'advent', the others think I'm senile."

It's only a matter of time before Regulus realises the truth, but he parks that thought aside - that's a worry for another time.

"I'm sure I'm not that important," Remus replies, breaking into a smile.  From the corner of his eye, he can see Regulus squashing a smile of his own.

"You are. To me."