#merry christmas you filthy animals (affectionate)

[estellesdoll]

31 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 | 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

⊹. 𝒅𝒂𝒚 31 : 𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌'𝒔 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒍𝒆 𖧧 . ָ࣪    ִֶָ

𓄹 ࣪.𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𓄹 ࣪.𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𓄹 ࣪.𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𓄹 ࣪.𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 : Chris and the reader plan the ultimate Christmas reveal for Nick: he's going to be an uncle.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 : future dad!chris sturniolo x pregnant!reader

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : pure fluff

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 : 1k

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 :HELLO, EVERYONE! WE’VE FINALLY REACHED THE END OF THE POSTS ON THE CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST. I WISH YOU A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR AND THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT!

I know this Christmas masterlist is filled with pregnant!reader content, but I honestly couldn’t resist 😭.

You sat on the couch, sipping hot cocoa as Chris fussed over the placement of a particular ornament for the third time.

“Babe, it looks fine,” you said, laughing softly. “Nick’s not gonna notice if the star isn’t perfectly aligned.”

Chris turned to you, holding the ornament like it was the Holy Grail. “He notices everything. You know he’ll make some snarky comment about my lack of symmetry. I just want this to be perfect.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, running a hand over your small but noticeable baby bump. “It’s not like he’s gonna be staring at the tree once he opens his gift.”

Chris set the ornament down and walked over to kneel in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. “You think he’s gonna freak out?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Hmm. Freak out as in scream and throw himself on the floor? Or freak out as in go completely silent and then explode five minutes later?”

Chris laughed, his dimples making an appearance. “I’m betting on the second one.”

You grinned, reaching out to smooth his hair. “Either way, it’s gonna be a Christmas he’ll never forget.”

--------

The sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, followed by Nick’s unmistakable voice.

“Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals!” he called out, his footsteps heavy as he stomped snow off his boots. “Where’s the eggnog? And why does it smell like cinnamon in here? Did you two join a Hallmark movie cult?”

Chris smirked and got up, heading toward the hallway. “We’re in the living room, Einstein. And no, we just know how to set the mood.”

Nick appeared a moment later, carrying a tray of cookies and a bottle of eggnog. His eyes immediately darted to the Christmas tree. “Wow. This is…a lot. Did you hire an interior decorator, or is this all you, Chris?”

“Rude,” Chris shot back, crossing his arms. “I’ll have you know I did all of this myself. With some help, of course.”

Nick’s gaze shifted to you, and he raised a brow. “Let me guess—she’s the one with the actual taste?”

You laughed, holding up your mug. “Guilty as charged.”

Nick plopped down on the couch beside you, draping an arm over the backrest. “Well, I gotta say, this is impressive. Almost too impressive. Are you two hiding something? Because this is giving ‘we’re about to drop a major bombshell’ energy.”

Chris shot you a quick look, his lips twitching as he tried to hide a grin. “What? Us? No way. Just a totally normal, boring Christmas Eve.”

Nick narrowed his eyes but didn’t press further.

--------

After some idle chit-chat and cookie munching, Chris clapped his hands together. “Alright, time for gifts!”

Nick raised a brow. “We’re doing this before dinner? That’s suspicious.”

“Just go with it,” you said, biting back a laugh.

Chris handed Nick the golden gift box, his expression carefully neutral. “This one’s from both of us.”

Nick eyed the box suspiciously. “This better not be another one of those prank gifts. I’m still traumatized from the time you gave me that fake lottery ticket.”

“Just open it,” Chris urged, gesturing impatiently.

With a dramatic sigh, Nick tore into the wrapping paper, revealing the plain cardboard box inside. “Oh, good. A box. Just what I’ve always wanted.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

Nick lifted the lid, and the sarcasm melted from his face the moment he saw the onesie inside. He stared at it, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process the words printed across the fabric: Best Uncle Ever.

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he looked up, his eyes darting between you and Chris. “Wait. Is this—are you—?”

Chris grinned, his dimples on full display. “Surprise.”

Nick let out a disbelieving laugh, running a hand through his hair. “No freaking way. You’re having a baby?!”

You nodded, tears pricking your eyes. “You’re gonna be an uncle, Nick.”

Nick shot to his feet, pacing back and forth in front of the tree. “Holy crap. This is huge. Like, this is the biggest thing that’s ever happened to this family. I mean, aside from me being born, obviously.”

Chris snorted. “Obviously.”

--------

Nick spun around, pointing a finger at Chris. “You realize this means you have to get your act together, right? No more last-minute Target runs for diapers. And you better start reading parenting books, like, yesterday.”

Chris held up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Dr. Phil. We’ve got it under control.”

Nick turned to you, his expression softening. “And you—you’re gonna be the best mom ever. But, uh, just so you know, I’m claiming the title of ‘favorite uncle’ right now.”

You laughed, wiping at your eyes. “Deal.”

He dropped back onto the couch, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this. This is the best Christmas present ever. You guys really outdid yourselves.”

Chris nudged him. “So, you’re happy?”

“Happy? Are you kidding? I’m ecstatic. This kid’s gonna have the coolest uncle ever. I’m talking matching outfits, secret handshakes, the works.”

Chris groaned. “Oh God. What have we done?”

--------

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, hugs, and heartfelt conversations. Nick insisted on re-wrapping the onesie so he could open it again, and Chris recorded his reaction for posterity.

Later, as the three of you sat by the fire, Nick leaned over and placed a hand on your belly. “Hey, kiddo. It’s your Uncle Nick. Just so you know, I’m gonna teach you all the cool stuff. Like how to make the perfect peanut butter sandwich. And how to annoy your dad.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Great. Just what I needed.”

You smiled, resting your hand over Nick’s. “This baby is already so loved.”

As the fire crackled and the snow fell outside, you couldn’t help but feel that this Christmas was the start of something truly magical.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 : @emely9274 @gemzyy

@/estellesdoll

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[dipperscavern]

cregan stark NOT found oiled up naked angry and suspended underneath my christmas tree today. pissed as hell. merry fucking christmas i guess

[unpopularvivian]

@gold-dust599

Merry Late Christmas ya filthy animal. (Affectionate)

I was feeling bold today and so wanted to make the Replica K-3 designs by using different aesthetics from the Aesthetics Wiki. These designs below might be drastically different than the originals.

Original designs:

Thomas: (Arcadecore)

Edward: (City Pop)

Henry: (Naturecore) YOU MADE ME RUN OUT OF TIME ON THE APP

Gordon: (Dark Nautical)

James: (Royalcore) THIS BITCH HAS SO MANY DETAILS IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY-

Percy: (Dreamcore) Get it? Because MC Percy is weirdcore and Replica K-3 Percy looks like a younger version of him-

[jean-kayak]

LMAO not another brain rot 🤪

(I've been thinking about sub!bokuto for like two weeks now 💀)

warnings: mommy kink, bondage, multiple orgasms, handjob, unprotected sex, implied fingering, overstimulation

NSFW under the cut

"oh now what do we have here?" bokuto stops in his tracks as his eyes widen. he's screwed, he's been caught and in the worst possible way. sitting in the middle of the bed on his knees with his hand around his dick, a few strokes away from an orgasm.

he doesn't move as he hears shuffling before he feels the bed dip down in front of him, but he still doesn't look up. you lift his chin up with your index finger, your thumb rubbing over it softly. "don't get shy on me now, bub."

"you're home early," is all he can manage out, and he glances down to see that you've gotten rid of your clothes and now you're just in your underwear.

"i wanted to surprise you, but it looks like you already had one for me." he doesn't say anything, and you move your hand towards his, pushing it away. "let me help you, yeah?" you say softly, and you start stroking him, and he lets out a whimper as he lets his face fall into your neck.

god, he's missed this. he thought he could go a whole week and a half without you touching him, but he couldn't. the facetime calls weren't enough, and he knows he's not supposed to touch himself without permission, but he was feeling extra horny today.

you bring a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it softly as you speed up your strokes. "you close?" you ask, even though you already know the answer, and he nods quickly against your skin, breathing out a 'please.'

you keep up the pace, leaning down to his ear. "cum for me, bub," you command softly, pulling his earlobe in between your teeth. you feel him go rigid against you as he cums, his release landing on the both of you. you rub his head affectionately as he comes down from his high. "you feel better?" you ask, pulling his head away from you.

he smiles as he nods, sleep coming to him fast. "thank you." you move the both of you until you're straddling him, and he's on his back.

"you didn't think that we were done, did you?" his eyes go wide as he takes in your words, and he already feels the restraints wrapping around his wrists before he feels them wrapping around his ankles. "you know you aren't supposed to touch yourself without permission."

you sit next to him on the bed, stripping off your bra and underwear before straddling him, but you don't touch him. he pulls against the restraints softly. "'m sorry, i won't do it again, please."

"pleading already? i haven't even started yet." bokuto doesn't know what's more torturous, the fact that you're touching yourself and he can't, or the fact that he's had three orgasms and he's still rock hard. they're not satisfying enough, he wants to be inside you, and he pulls against the restraints in frustration.

"hm? what was that? you gotta speak up, bub, i can't hear you." you lightly trail your nails down his thighs, up his torso, over his nipples, everywhere but where he wants you to touch him.

"i want," he starts, and you tilt your head as you lightly brush over his dick, making him whine softly. "touch me, please touch me."

you feign ignorance as you rub over his chest. "you want me to touch you right here?" you ask, and he shakes his head.

"lower, touch me lower," he murmurs, and he jolts when you finally touch him where he really needs it.

"oh, you mean here?" he barely has time to nod before you're stroking him, and he screws his eyes shut as he throws his head back against the pillows. "look at me, bo." he listens almost immediately, and he whimpers knowing he's not going to last long.

he cums with a low moan, and before he can come down from the high, he feels you starting to sink down on him. "why the face? isn't this what you wanted?"

yes, this is exactly what he wanted, but he doesn't know how long he'll be able to last. you feel too good, you're so warm, so tight, and he feels like the air has been punched out of his lungs. "you can't cum yet, bub," you warn, and he whines as he looks at you pitifully. "you've been such a good boy for me so far, you wanna help your mommy cum, don't you?"

he whines and nods quickly, the praise going straight to his dick. you clench around him, and he throws his head back as he feels a hot flash of pleasure through his whole body. "fuck. please, mommy, please let me cum, please. please." he's babbling incoherently at this point, the overstimulation threatening to send him over the edge.

you rub at your clit, letting out a moan. "cum for me, bubba." just as you finish your sentence, the knot in your stomach snaps, and you pulse around him as you put your hands on his chest to keep yourself from falling forward.

bokuto cums with a shout, his back arching off the bed as his eyes shut. he falls back down, his body going limp. you both catch your breath, and you slowly slide off of him, and he winces.

you move to untie his wrists first before slowly peppering his face with kisses. you place them on his forehead, over his eyes, on his cheeks, his chin, slowly helping him come back. you rub at the red marks on his wrists before planting soft kisses on them.

he opens his eyes, and you wipe the tears in his eyes as you smile at him. "are you okay?" you ask, your face hovering over his. he smiles at you before he nods, and you plant a kiss on his lips. "you wanna take a bath?"

he shakes his head, and you lift up to take the restraints off of his ankles. you lean back over him, rubbing the sweat of his forehead, moving the pieces of hair plastered to his forehead. "don't wanna move, wanna stay here," he murmurs, and you can hear him drifting off.

"okay," you agree easily. "i love you."

with the little energy he has left, he wraps his arms around you. "i love you, too."

Merry Christmas ya filthy animals

[chezzkaa]

Just Open It

Pairing: Ryan Haywood x Reader Day 4 of Fics Advent Calendar 2017. Read the others here

Summary: suspicious gift giving wc: 491

“Who’s this from?”

You look up from your monitor, eyes meeting Ryan’s bewilderment as he tentatively holds the neatly wrapped parcel. He looks fearful, as though the paper will explode open at any moment.

He pulls a face, giving it a light and careful shake. “Is it from the AHWU pile?”

“Don’t be so paranoid,” you tease, standing with a cascade of pops and groans. “It’s from me.”

He looks surprised, eyebrows quirking and lips settling into a soft smile. Making your way through the office you dodge the array of dangerous objects scattering the floor, shoes nudging bouncy balls and ill-placed stink bombs.

“You got me a Christmas present?” he asks, bashful. You nod, silence of an office abandoned for the holidays providing nothing but comfort.

“Of course I did, I’m not completely heartless.”

“The fans would have something to say about that,” he chuckles, watching while you stand in front of him, eyes kind while he weighs the gift back and forth in his hands.

“I can’t be a psycho all the time,” you muse, kneeling in Jeremy’s chair and looking up at Ryan, “I’d never get anything done.”

Ryan reaches out and ruffles your hair affectionately, pinks rising in your cheeks. “You make a good point.”

“Something else the fans would want to talk about,” you chuckle, poking him in the stomach. “Are you going to open it?”

“But it’s not Christmas.”

“Jesus, Ryan. Since when do you care about appropriately timed package opening?”

You’ve caught him, the narrow glare you receive filling you with triumph. A smirk peels across your lips, his twitching in amusement. “Besides, I’m not going to see you these holidays.”

“Aww,” he teases, looking more flattered than taunting; “are you going to miss me, Y/N?”

“Just open the damn gift.”

“Okay, okay,” he waves, kicking the chair and sending me in slow circles. “You’re so pushy.”

“And you’re so annoying. Don’t make me take it back.”

He glowers before turning to the present, tearing open the paper with reckless abandon. From the contents spills thick, bright red fabric, his face lighting up as he turns it over. He bounces, pressing the sweater up to his chest to reveal the ugliest print of ‘Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal’ that you could find.

“I love it!” he cheers, pulling you from the chair and into his arms – and you swear that he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m going to wear it all the time.”

“You better do,” you wheeze into his shoulder, his grip relaxing until you’re both just holding each other, surprisingly at ease. “Just, promise to think of me when you’ve got it on?”

He pulls back to see you pull your bottom lip in, chewing anxiously. He doesn’t look nervous, instead smiling with enough warmth to melt the frost clinging to the windows. “Y/N, I’m always thinking about you.”

“Oh yeah; then where’s my gift?”

“Ummm.”

“Smooth.”