#naughty holiday event

[abbyanne-sari-sari]

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Happy Holidays everyone!

[fushitoru]

all i want for christmas is you! a gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ bf!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ after a well needed rest from the kids, you and your boyfriend focus on baking christmas cookies for your pta responsibilities. however, it ends up taking a naughty twist when satoru finds out the surprise you've planned out for him.

warnings ⸺ FLUFF, smut in the form of fingering and p i v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, some jealousy, but mostly crack, pta cookie baking for megumi, very domestic, not edited, “good girl,” teasing, use of pet names like “baby,” gojo is a warning in himself

a/n hbd to my husband and loml 😚😚 i hope you guys enjoy this it kind of made me realize only long fics heal my soul but this is anticipation of holidays :33

general masterlist

You sometimes did not know what to do with Satoru.

When he told you to come over to make Christmas cookies that are part of his PTA commitments for Megumi, you really didn’t expect him to come out of his room with that sweater on. It’s an ugly sweater—so he’s got the holiday spirit nailed down—that has printed “BIG PACKAGE JUST FOR YOU.” Below it, a cartoon Santa stood pantsless, strategically holding a neatly wrapped gift box over his crotch.

You give him a look as he comes out to join you in the kitchen. “Please don’t tell me you wore that in front of Tsumiki and Megumi.”

He has the gall to look offended as he puts on his even stupider “Your opinion wasn’t on the recipe” apron. “Of course, what kind of father do you think I am?”

You sigh, moving to put in the last of the dry ingredients. “I saw Megumi watching Breaking Bad on his iPad last week.”

“What?” he gasps dramatically as he pauses while moving for the fridge. “I swear I downloaded Youtube Kids!”

Look, Satoru is a good dad. Foster-dad. Whatever. He’s been taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki for ages now, ever since that incident happened, and he’s been doing his best. But, unfortunately, his adult life and burdens and responsibilities cause him sometimes to be a absent father. He makes up for it—goes shopping with Tsumiki for her clothes, spends quality time with Megumi.

One thing he’d never miss, however, are those PTA meetings.

He is the PTA mom final boss. No matter what event is being held, he’s going to go all out. You don’t miss the smirk he gives to Karen everytime he brings an even bigger cookie platter for Megumi’s homeroom than she did for her son Sam’s, nor the sassy pursed lips as he donates artist-grade markers from Michael’s instead of Mia’s cheap ones from Walmart.

Yea, he is just petty like that, but it’s always the moms whose sons have gotten into fights with Megumi that he outdoes everytime. You know better than to question his peculiar form of revenge.

“I think that means he found a way to break through the parental controls. He’s definitely your kid,” you reply with a bit of mirth in your voice. Then, you quickly move to intercept Satoru’s journey to get the eggs as soon as you notice a miniscule movement of his. You were not about to let Satoru force another trip to Whole Foods with the clumsiness you’re all too familiar with in your five years of dating.

Grabbing the eggs before he can, you turn around to find him staring at you, a dazzled look on his face.

“What?” you ask, already smirking. The view of the outfit you’d worn today had been obscured by the apron when he first came in, but when you moved to get the eggs in front of him, he definitely got a view of your ass in your tiny red skirt and fuzzy, festive top.

“Why the hell are you wearing a sexy Mrs. Claus outfit?”

“I was thinking we’d watch Christmas movies and chill today after the cookies!” you exclaim, just as Satoru interrupts with, “We’re baking cookies for children, you freak.”

The room went dead silent.

Your cheerful smile dropped instantly. Meanwhile, Satoru’s face lit up like he’s just won the lottery, full of pure glee.

Both of you shout at the same time, “What?”

You slam the eggs down onto the counter with just enough force to make him flinch, narrowing your eyes at him. “Excuse me? Did you just call me a freak?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he yelped, backpedaling so fast you were surprised he didn’t trip over his own feet. “It’s just—” He gestured wildly at you. “—that outfit is… is…”

“Is what?” you demand, crossing your arms and daring him to dig himself deeper.

“Babe,” he starts to whine, apologetic like a wet dog and padding his way back over to you while pulling you in for a back hug. “It’s hot, okay? Don’t get me wrong, it’s driving me crazy. I’m trying to focus on cookies, and you’re over here looking like every Christmas fantasy I didn’t know I had.”

“Get off me,” you grumble, shooting him a glare as you try to shake him off. “You are not touching these cookies. Sit on the couch.”

He yelps as you slap his hand. “Babe, but I’ll just be reinforcing the patriarchy if I let you stay and do all the work in the kitchen.” Then, he moves closer to your ear like the chronically online loser he is and whispers, “6’ 3’’ btw.”

“Go away!” you shriek, waving him off. This process would indeed be two times faster if Satoru was on his couch. There wasn’t any rush, but you’d really appreciate getting to the dicking-down part of tonight after much appreciated privacy from the kids for the first time in forever. You take a mental note to thank Yuji’s grandpa and Nobara’s grandmother with extra cookies for the sleepover as you shoo your boyfriend to the couch.

You get back to work on the wet ingredients by cracking the eggs, but not before you hear a “I’ll be reflecting on the systematic oppression women face in the workforce.”

Pulling off the oven mitts on your hands, you wash your hand but not without sneaking a peek over the kitchen counter. You were locked in on the cookies, paying no mind to Satoru’s existential bemoaning, and now that you’re done, you can’t wait for the fun part of tonight.

After waiting a few minutes and checking and rechecking the cookies to make sure they’re done, you set them aside to cool and make sure to turn off the oven. Tonight, you were determined to get that big fucking package Santa owed you, and your boyfriend was going to be the one to deliver it.

As you walk out, you know the strat you’re going to use: innocently suggest a Christmas movie to watch, snuggle close to him, and he’ll fall into the trap you set for him like a bear towards honey. You know your boyfriend all too well, and today, you were feeling coy.

He’s stretched out on the couch, scrolling on his phone, his posture as awful as ever. But the second he hears your footsteps, his head snaps up. His eyes immediately dart to the movement of your bare legs, lingering on the tiny red skirt you’re still wearing, before slowly traveling back up to your chest. Wow. He really wasn’t making this difficult.

You plop down next to him while grabbing the remote, pulling up Netflix. “What movie should we watch today?”

He blinks, clearly distracted. “We’re watching a movie?”

The Princess Switch catches in the side of your eye as you scroll through the options. Without looking at him, you answer, “Yes? What else were we going to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, his voice already dipping into that teasing tone you know so well. “Maybe something that doesn’t involve Vanessa Hudgens playing herself two times.”

You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Don’t knock it till you try it, Mr. Holiday Spirit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave you, though, and when you finally glance at him, his expression has shifted. He’s not teasing anymore. His eyes are a little darker, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a grin. “What?” you ask, already smirking.

“Nothing,” he says, his voice lower now. “Just... you look really good in that outfit.”

Your cheeks heat, but you play it off with a laugh. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Satoru.”

“Won’t it?” he murmurs, leaning a little closer, his hand brushing against your knee. The heat of his palm lingers even after he pulls it away, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You’re about to respond—something witty, something to keep the banter going—but then his hand moves again, this time resting firmly on your thigh. “You’re really going to make me sit through a Christmas movie when you look like that?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.

Your breath hitches, and you can’t help the way your body reacts, leaning just a fraction closer to him. “What would you rather do?” you challenge, your voice softer now.

His gaze dips to your lips, and that’s all the invitation he needs. In a second, he’s closing the distance, his mouth pressing against yours in a kiss that’s anything but sweet. It’s hungry and demanding, like he’s been waiting for this all day, and when his hand slides higher up your thigh, you realize you’ve completely forgotten about the movie and the preview playing. Satoru, clearly a little annoyed judging by the pout on his face, moves to close the preview featuring Vanessa Hudgens’ obnoxious British accent and then the room is silent except for the wet sounds of your sloppy kissing.

When you’ve both made out for a while—now with you on his lap—you both pull back with fastened breaths, looking at each other’s glistening lips. Finally, from Satoru comes out a, “That. I wanted to do that.”

Maybe it’s the attention whore in you always looking to rile up Satoru and get his affection, but you couldn’t refrain from blurting out a “Are you sure you wanted to do this with me, or would Linda have sufficed?”

At the scrunch of Satoru’s nose, his face practically spells out a Who the fuck is Linda? “You know, the one that gets really friendly with you when I’m going to the bathroom at those PTA meetings.”

Satoru sometimes did not know what to do with you.

Here he is, trying to make out with you when you’re looking like that, makeup done perfectly and looking beautiful as always. He hasn’t gotten laid with you in a hot minute, and here you are, picking at him. He has no fucking clue who Linda is, but what he does know is that you’re really cute when you get jealous. “Yeah?” he teases, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek. His grin is maddeningly smug, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Linda sounds nice. Should I call her up?”

Your jaw drops, but the sharp retort forming in your head is lost when his hand slides from your cheek to your neck, his thumb brushing lightly along your jawline. He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You know,” he continues, his voice a low murmur, “if you’re jealous, you could just say so.”

“I’m not jealous,” you shoot back, your voice unconvincing even to yourself. You shift under his gaze, trying to keep up the façade, but it’s hard when his lips hover so close to yours.

Satoru’s grin widens. “No? Then why are you bringing up some imaginary PTA Linda when I’m clearly only interested in you?” His lips press against the corner of your mouth, a slow, deliberate kiss that makes your breath catch.

“You’re clearly only interested in being annoying,” you quip, but the words lack their usual bite as his hand slips lower, trailing down your side until it rests on your bare thigh. His touch is firm, possessive, and it sends a shiver through you.

“Annoying?” he echoes, his tone mock-offended. “That’s a big word for someone who just ruined a perfectly good makeout session to talk about Linda.”

You glare at him, but the effect is ruined when his thumb begins tracing lazy circles on your thigh. “I didn’t ruin anything,” you argue weakly.

“Didn’t you?” He dips his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Because now, instead of kissing you like I want to, I’m stuck reassuring you that Linda doesn’t stand a chance against my very sexy, very jealous girlfriend.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, but it turns into a soft gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his tongue soothing the faint sting. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but your hands betray you, tangling in his hair and tugging him closer.

“Mm, but you like it,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. His free hand slides higher, skimming under the hem of your skirt, his fingers teasing against the soft skin of your hip. “Admit it.”

“Shut up,” you manage, though your voice is breathless now. He’s too close, his scent overwhelming, his touch setting your nerves on fire. When his hand tightens on your thigh and he pulls you closer, you give in, letting him capture your lips in a kiss that’s all desperation.

Linda, whoever she may be, is long forgotten as Satoru kisses you like he’s trying to make up for every second you’ve spent apart. His hands roam, his touch firm and confident, and when he pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re all I want,” you believe him completely.

A breathless “Satoru” leaves your lips as he gently–but hurriedly–lowers you down to lay on the couch while he bends over you, inching down the hem of your top to bury his head in your tits. “Oh my god,” he groaned. “I missed my girls.” He starts to leaves rough kisses, an occasional bite and suck, and then stops. Takes in a deep breath. “Wow, you smell good babe.”

You look at him, flustered. “Stop smelling my tits, oh my god.” For good measure, you grab his hair to bury his face against your breasts once more.

“No,” smooch, “it’s,” smooch, “smelling good. Like the new holiday scents from Bath and Body Works.” He then abandons your chest to kiss his way down your body, sliding your skirt down as he kisses around the edge of your panties. “I’ve missed her, too.”

Despite yourself, you moan, spreading your legs to give him full access. He takes it enthusiastically, giving you a little kiss in your middle. Then, his eyes don’t leave yours as he uses his teeth to pull your panties down, slowly and sultry. Your pussy leaks even more, and the motherfucker notices, because there’s a faint smirk on his face as he hones back in your wetness, running his fingers to spread your slick. “Wow, my girl must have been sooo pent up,” he croons, eyes not leaving your hole and the way it clenched every time he spoke. “My good girl is soo desperate.”

Without missing a beat, you sneakily reply, “Don’t call me that, that’s so corny oh my god—-“ You’re interrupted with your own gasp as he enters a finger in. When he finally curls it, hitting your g-spot dead on, you suck in your breath. You really missed this.

“Oh, really?” He giggles, clearly amused by you trying to rile him up. “If my baby doesn’t like being called a good girl then why is she clenching so hard on my—“ thrust— “fingers?”

And suddenly the feminist in you leaves as his big, thick fingers ram into you faster than ever, and you start squealing like the slut you are for your incredibly hot boyfriend who’s equally as much of a slut for you, judging based on the rock hard erection against your thigh. Take that, Linda.

You’re in a daze of pleasure, too fucked out to notice Gojo wrenching down his sweats to pull out his throbbing cock, to pump it to full mast. It’s only when he rips his finger away from your cavern that you start to whimper, clawing at his arms to continue fingering you.

And he starts cooing, giving you a small kiss on your cheek as he aligns his dick with your pussy. “I know baby, I know,” and he groans as the soft, wet heat of your pussy grips on him hard as he pushes in. It’s not long before he starts thrusting, wiping your tears while driving in even faster. “Wow, good fucking pussy.”

“Satoru,” you whine, but you don’t even know for what. You were close enough when he was fingering you, but now you’re steadily approaching your climax. But Satoru, who’s attuned to what your body needs, readjusts himself to go even deeper.

It’s when you gasp loudly that a glint lights up in his eyes. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” He drives into that spot like a jackhammer, savoring in your little squeals and moans of his name, until finally, he feels you climax.

“Oh my god,” you says breathlessly as your orgasm takes over you, convulsing while Satoru doesn’t let up, continuing his pace until his hips become more sloppy. After a few off rhythm thrusts, he comes in you, collapsing on top of you.

He’s breathing heavily from exertion, and you run your nails on his back and hair gently. You both bask in the glow of your orgasm. Of course, that is until Satoru perks his head up. “Do you think I can eat that kid Martin’s cookie? Megumi told me he doesn’t like him and that he’s annoying—-OWWW, what was that for?”

[gutsby]

Stuck

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel gets nominated to play Santa Claus for Jackson’s holiday festivities. Of course, you’re into that.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Breeding kink. Age gap. Santa Clause kink (it’s brief). F!Oral. Omitting one tag to avoid spoiling the ending—please read at your own risk.

Note: Kinda inspired by Otis Redding’s Try a Little Tenderness

Word count: 5.5k

“Give your old man a kiss before he leaves?”

The invitation shouldn’t have made you as wet as it did. But it had. And Joel just grinned, lips twitching beneath his big fake beard and palms pulling you toward his body.

The kiss had had to be wholesome and quick. Before long, he’d be surrounded by a sea of eager, wide-eyed, and awe-stricken children in the middle of Jackson’s town square, and what sort of example would you be setting if you were the girl caught kissing Santa Claus?

It wouldn’t rally much confidence in Father Christmas, if either of you had had to guess. You let him go. With a soft, innocuous tug of his belt buckle and a pat on his padded belly, you’d promised to be extra good while he was gone and leave more than just milk and cookies out for him later. Joel had blinked twice, and in the glint of one look, you could tell he’d wanted to say much more.

But then Tommy, dressed as an elf and scowling like Ebenezer Scrooge, had tugged him off your porch.

“You can get those cookies later, Nick. Let’s go.”

And that had been the last you’d seen of the pair before you’d snuck off to see Maria about Joel’s secret gift.

Now, two hours later in the glow of a roaring fire and near-unbearable excitement, you were perched on the sofa. Sitting with your knees tucked underneath you and a glass of milk, a tray of cookies, and a small, rectangular box tied with a bow set beside you on the coffee table.

You really hoped Joel would like his present.

You also guessed it wouldn’t hurt that you were currently half-naked in a ruby red satin teddy for his return home.

As soon as you heard the creak of the front door, you straightened up. You watched a body shuffle in, head bowed and shaking snow off his sprayed-white locks. Joel looked perfectly ancient in his present get-up: thick black boots, velvet crimson pantsuit, chest-length beard, and lopsided hat. He looked haggard and adorable, too. You could tell by the way he kicked off his shoes and left them stranded by the door he was absolutely drained by the events of that night—dealing with every kid in town under the age of ten likely hadn’t been his first choice.

But now he was here. Joel had been so preoccupied with getting off his boots that he hadn’t even seen you on the couch, and the instant his gaze landed on you, it froze.

“Baby…” he groaned.

His whole face softened, like he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him then, and his arms stretched out for you.

He looked childlike, almost, with the way he lumbered over. His limbs were heavy, and they felt that way coming to crash over your cowered frame on the sofa. You leapt back and squealed, only to feel two big palms grab you by the hips and pin you underneath him. Joel’s breaths were warm, and his eyes were alight with rapt intrigue.

“This all for me?” he asked, sliding his hands down your thighs and in between them. He cursed feeling the heat.

You had to bite back a laugh at how silly this looked—Santa Clause, a staple of your childhood, prying your legs apart and all but drooling at the sight inside. Pawing at your legs, then at your hips, then at the band of your panties beneath the tulle hemline of your teddy. It felt fun in a depraved sort of way. You felt naughty, like you might not want to share Joel’s gift with him until after all the fun was over. But, deep down, you weren’t that cruel.

“Don’t you wanna see your gift? Have your milk and cookies?” you asked sweetly, just narrowly managing to slide an arm out from underneath Joel’s weight and pointing to the assortment of goodies on the table.

Joel looked that way briefly, but then his gaze was back on you. Its warmth was smoldering. Darkening in time.

“Later. Santa’s got a bone to pick with you first.”

You squealed again as fingers hooked in your panties.

“But— but— you’ll really like this gift, Joel. Really.”

“Yeah? Already got one for you right here, kiddo.”

In a crass, graceless sort of gesture, Joel removed one hand from you to grab his crotch, and shake it firmly—‘Got a good seven inches of this gift to share, sugar’—and from there, you had no choice but to acquiesce. If Joel really didn’t mind putting off his gift for yours, at first, that was on him. You leaned back to get comfy.

“If you insist.” The smile you flashed him was coy.

Knowing, as your underwear was slid down your legs and Joel nestled in between them on the couch. You propped your head on a pillow and watched, feeling another small wave of sick nostalgia wash over your senses; Joel was still fully dressed as Kris Kringle stripping you naked.

He’d just moved to pull off the white beard, tied snug with a string, when you reached down and stopped him.

“Leave it,” you said, voice quavering with the threat of a giggle. This was insane. “Leave the beard. Leave all of it.”

Joel flashed you a look with a brow cocked up, confused.

“You want me to eat you out as Santa Clause?” he asked.

He grinned, and you almost laughed again. His expression was still puzzled—mixed with arousal, the look suited him well—and before he could say another word, you just nodded. Shimmied your red panties the rest of the way down and kicked them off at your feet.

But when Joel reached for your legs to pull you closer to him, you slipped off the couch. Your limp, shimmering frock that barely covered the globes of your ass underneath it brushed the bare skin as you darted off.

You’d meant it to be playful. Joel couldn’t brush aside gift-giving and get his way quite that easily. You stood on your own two feet, pivoting back to face him before starting to make your way toward the stairs. You waved.

“Okay. Give me a minute. If you’re giving me my present now, I need to get the rest of yours ready. It’s…upstairs.”

Joel’s—or Santa’s—whole face dropped. He stood.

“That wasn’t the deal, kiddo. You before me.”

He was already pacing after you, slowly at first; then, when your feet reached the first step, he broke off in a run. You screamed, and tried to tear your way up the rest of the stairs, but before more than four thuds had sounded on the wood, you were being thrust back in Joel’s arms—hoisted off your feet, and carried to the living room without another breath or pause from him. You kicked your feet, pretended to be indignant, and were smiling to yourself, inwardly, the whole time. He would really be kicking himself for this later, you knew.

“Gonna be a good little girl for Santa and stay put now?” he huffed, setting you down on your feet. Rather than heading for the couch, he’d placed you on the rug by the warmth of the fireplace and the winking lights of the Christmas tree, where he knew you felt coziest. And, in the glow of both, he could drink the view in completely.

You dropped to the floor where you knew he wanted you.

Still smiling. Fighting a laugh: “Yes, daddy. I’ll be good.”

Joel laid you back. Spread your legs. Tugged your butt right where he wanted it beside the fire and slotted his torso in between your thighs. Your body was practically humming with anticipation as he brought his head lower.

The fluffy white bobble at the end of his hat swung in front of his face, preventing his mouth from sinking in.

He groaned.

“Fuckin’ kids.” He batted the thing out of his way.

“Been toyin’ with my hat and beard all goddamn night. You’d think I was a…a jungle gym to those little hellions,” Joel added with an edge of taut frustration to his voice.

You knew he’d liked the ‘hellion’ antics, whether he was willing to admit it or not. He’d pretend to be pissed at the kids for being kids, but deep down, he was always more than willing to oblige. He’d practically volunteered to take on the role of Santa before the ballot had even been cast for who’d get to play the Big Red Man for the festivities.

He was your old man. A softie at heart.

Hard in other places, but that was just how you liked it.

He spread your legs with both of his hands and practically moaned at what lay before him now.

You were wet. Glistening. In the light of the fireplace and the evergreen behind him, he could see it all too clearly: how pretty and slick and shiny you were along your slit. You’d been patient awaiting his return, and he could tell. Though you were dripping nectar through your folds, you hadn’t smeared one drop with your fingers—you sat like a gleaming, unwrapped present for the man to devour.

And maybe it felt wrong, all swollen and stiff beneath his costume pants and his hair dusted white to make him look even older than he was—about 1,700 years, give or take, instead of fifty-nine—but the look in his eyes said he wanted it all. He felt raw, and needy, and debased.

You liked seeing Joel this way. You liked feeling wrong.

It was what most of Jackson thought of you, anyway. What had taken Tommy, Maria, and the closest of your friends the longest time to accept, nearly all of your neighbors still thought was pretty strange: how Joel was decades your senior and you two were dating—happily. What they were liable to think when the news of you trying for a baby spread in town was anyone’s guess.

Joel seemed to forget all that as his head sank lower. He forked two of his big, meaty fingers in the shape of a ‘V’ and pushed your folds apart in just the way you liked, and he breathed out slow, warm puffs of air over your cunt. You shuddered, and you waited for his tongue.

“Baby…” he trailed off again.

“Yeah?” Your voice was tight.

A beat of silence passed.

“I’m…probably gonna need to take off the beard.”

You breathed out a soft, reflexive laugh, and you didn’t protest. Joel tugged down the big, white, wiry clump of hair from his face and let his other, shorter one surface.

This one wasn’t white, but it was a handsome black and grey, with a lot more of a silver sheen to its these days. You smiled as Joel drew closer, and that smile only faltered a little as the man kissed your inner thigh.

He did the same to the other leg. He dragged his mouth down the skin toward your center and let his lips part a little. He kissed you again, this time at the top of your mound. It made an extra low, almost lewd sort of sound. He rubbed his nose against your lower belly, and the contrast of the weathered texture to your own was stark.

Joel was old. He looked it even more with his hair painted white and his mouth hovering over your slit.

“She been good this year?” he hummed, peering up.

Before you could answer, Joel’s tongue slid out, and he drew a fat, wet line over the seam of your pussy. Your hips jolted in response, and his free hand held you down.

“She tastes good,” he went on in the most casual tone.

Then, without further warning, his jaw slackened some more and he started lapping at the tender flesh beneath it. He dragged his tongue through the thick, stringy mess and closed his eyes, like he was savoring the taste. His lips curled, and he kissed you again—this time, it closed around your clit, and he suckled you gently. With the first wet pop and a sickening squelch from his mouth, your eyes nearly rolled back in your head; Joel’s opened again as he flashed you a shit-eating grin between your legs.

“She’s been real good for me this year, hasn’t she, hon?” And he squeezed your leg to indicate he wanted a reply.

You tried to answer, but it came out garbled and weak:

“So good, daddy. So— so—”

Oh.

Joel’s fingers moved from their forked position to push his index inside your weeping hole. At the same time, the tip of his tongue flicked delicately against your clit. The two parts of him moved in tandem, and from the feeling of both, you had to bite your lip to keep from letting out a cry. Your hand reached down to grab his hair, but all it could find was that goddamn Santa hat. Joel snickered.

With his lips, tongue, and finger still working your needy cunt, he couldn’t help but smile as you cast the hat aside

“Damn thing,” you cursed, fingers lacing through his hair.

“Language, young lady,” Joel murmured.

Like he was one to talk.

You made a fist with the chalky white locks and rutted your hips the tiniest bit, too flush with pleasure to give a single fuck what words came out of your mouth, and from the way Joel grinned and slid a second finger inside, you had only to guess he didn’t mind either.

He could pretend, though. He licked a little harder, then:

“She’s gonna be sweet for her old man, isn’t she?”

“Y— yes, she is.”

“Nice and polite before she gets this cock?”

“I promise.”

Appearing satisfied with this response, or else simply wanting to bring you to the edge and make you cum on his tongue, Joel wedged his fingers even deeper, then curled them. He brushed the soft, fleshy wall in a beckoning motion and, at the same time, sucked your nub between his lips. He felt you tense, heard you moan, and likely sensed there was no better time for his tongue to dart out again. Just as he released your clit from its airtight kiss, he was back licking circles on the tender, swollen thing, eyes flitting up to yours to hold their gaze.

“Daddy,” you whimpered.

When his fingers curled another time, you cried out.

Your brain was on the fritz; your heels were digging in the rug, stomach tight as it had ever been, and your hands seemed to move with a mind of their own. One was gripping Joel’s hair, giving you leverage to cant your hips against his face, and the other was palming your breast through the thin lace fabric of your teddy. You craved stimulation—couldn’t breathe without the feel of something on you, and in you, as you were about to cum.

Joel nodded his soft approval. He watched you fondle yourself and seemed enthralled, even from where he lay.

“That’s it, baby. Touch yourself while daddy licks your pussy. Lemme see how good she’s feelin’, sweetheart.”

His words were all the propulsion you needed and more. You pinched your nipple through the fabric, whined at the pleasure wrought by your fingers and by Joel’s simultaneously, and felt an even deeper twist in your gut. You grip constricted in his hair; you didn’t need to speak.

“She’s right there, isn’t she? I know that feels nice, baby,” Joel groaned, voice low, “Gonna cum for daddy now?”

You whined. You gripped tighter. Your body needed this.

“C’mon, hon. Let me have it. Cum on daddy’s tongue.”

Two more strokes of his tongue, a gentle thrust of his fingers, and the brush of your own touch across taut, pebbled flesh was enough. The next second had you clamping down on Joel’s hand and giving him all you possibly could, lips parted and spilling a feverish, shrill whine while your orgasm washed over you. Your toes curled into the rug, and Joel pressed your hips down as his tongue fucked you through it. He licked and sucked and coaxed your needy walls again and again; he felt you tremble, and he let your wet essence soak him through.

By the time you were done, his face was glistening.

He lifted his head from between your legs, gaze wild and lips shiny with your full release. He licked them, elated.

“All good, hon?”

“Amazing.”

You let out a shaky breath and pet his hair. Joel smiled.

“Wanna go upstairs? Be a little comfier in the bed, I bet,” he offered, slowly starting to rise, before wincing. Then when his knees audibly cracked, “Your old man needs it.”

You had no doubt about that. You sat up and smiled, and let him lift you to your feet along with him. Another snap.

“Aw, hell,” Joel hissed, shaking his head.

You wrapped an arm around his waist before pacing another step. He leaned a little into you, though not too much, and you couldn’t help but flash him an arch look.

“Did your wishlist include new kneecaps, by chance?”

“No ma’am. Just stronger hands to spank with.”

Joel didn’t miss a beat, grinning down at you.

You would’ve returned with something equally cheeky and light, had you not remembered that thing close by.

“Wait, wait—your present!”

Joel eyed the square box as you retrieved it. His eyes flashed with curiosity before you reappeared under his arm and helped him start up the stairs. He walked, and let out a soft groan, and when you’d made it halfway up, he shook his head at you again. It was slow but emphatic

“Gotta finish your gift first, sweetheart,” he murmured.

And, try as you might to get an inch of give after that, you sensed fighting Joel’s generosity was futile by then. You knew him well enough to guess that he’d only be satisfied receiving his present once yours had been properly secured with another orgasm, and his spend dribbled in big, thick rivers down the insides of your legs.

You heaved a sigh and smiled, walking slowly with him.

Joel, if you only knew.

Despite his best efforts, the man still couldn’t work out how he’d ever gotten so lucky to find something like this—someone like you. As his hips worked their way up to a near-desperate pace, bordering on frenzied as he fucked into you, Joel decided that he wouldn’t bother guessing.

He’d accept this for what it was: a gift he didn’t deserve.

The two of you hadn’t even gotten around to the business of unwrapping your presents yet, and Joel already knew that he had it all just looking down at you.

With your back arched and your hands making fists in the sheets beside your head, wet and glistening cunt accepting each one of his thrusts and squeezing him tight on every stroke, Joel had to steel himself just feeling how good you were, knowing how well you fit him in every way, and sensing this was as close to replete happiness as he’d ever get. He couldn’t ask for more.

Even without a baby, he knew things would be okay.

The two of you had been trying for months now, wholly without success of yet. There had been the night he’d bought a blue pill and fucked you four times in one day, and you’d told him at the end of it all that your period was late. But then you’d bled the next morning, and your hopes, for the present moment, had been dashed away.

No pregnancy hopes since then had amounted to anything else, and at length, you’d agreed not to let it get your spirits down—or try not to, anyway. You’d fuck as often as you could, but you wouldn’t let the thought of wanting a baby make the process less fun for you now.

That didn’t mean Joel couldn’t remind you every now and then what you were hoping the endgame would be.

Presently, he leaned over your prone body on the bed and pressed his lips to your ear. He ground his hips against your ass so his cock wedged itself all the way in to the hilt, and when the tip was just threatening to graze the edge of your cervix, he dropped a kiss on your cheek.

“Want me to put a baby right here?” He spoke gently.

Your walls clenched around him involuntarily, and your head reared back to fall against his shoulder. Joel took this as his opportunity to start peppering more kisses. He knew how much you liked the dirty talk while he was deep inside, talking about how much he wanted to blow his load and knock you up. It was a melting point for you both, and he sensed that you wouldn’t last long after it.

He had your head tilted to his, your lips spilling moan after moan as his dick plunged further inside and your eyes struggling to stay open. They flitted between his, and they gave him a hopeful look. You managed a smile.

“Right…right there, daddy,” you whimpered out.

Another sound escaped your mouth and flooded his, and Joel couldn’t help it: he kissed you, and he fucked in deeper. He couldn’t have wanted this more if he tried.

His forehead was slick with sweat, as was yours. Your bodies were grinding together—Joel’s soft, warm belly filling the concave space where your spine curved down, and he rutted repeatedly into you, like an animal in heat.

His face was right beside yours as his teeth gritted out:

“My sweet girl want a baby in her for Christmas, that it?”

Again, you whined and rolled your hips against his, nodding your head, and the look in your eyes was wild.

“Baby—please. Please fuck your baby in me, Joel.”

Joel could do more than that. Much more. Ask him for twins, triplets, or however many kids you could’ve wanted, and he would’ve given it to you then.

He wished it were that simple, and he could’ve knocked you up and made you happy a long time ago, but sadly, that hadn’t been in the cards for you two. Joel shortly brushed that thought away, not wanting to lose his momentum or delay the oncoming orgasm about to rattle your body underneath him. He kissed your shoulder this time, thrusting with his stiff, wet cock in just the way you liked, and in seconds, he got what he wanted—what you needed, clearly, as your muscles seized and your lips let out a sharp, shrill cry in response.

Joel held you to him as long as he could. He felt you melt into the bed and only held your body tighter, rutting his hips at their relentless pace to keep your pleasure alive. He heard you whine, tell him to cum inside me, daddy, please, and from that point on, he sensed he’d have to slow a little. It couldn’t be helped. When he came, he had to pin you down and fill you completely—take his time working his spend inside your needy, pulsing cunt, and when he was done, just keep you there. Let you feel him. It was a satisfaction unlike any other for you both, and it was one he’d come to love these last few months. He stilled inside you, feeling his cum coating every inch of your walls around him, and he grinned. You let out a sigh.

“So I…I made the ‘Nice’ list, Mr. Clause?” you panted.

Joel’s head dropped to yours in a short, rumbling laugh.

His dick twitched inside you, and his belly growled a bit. He definitely should’ve taken you up on those cookies.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d say we’re square,” he breathed back.

How long you laid like that was anyone’s guess. Joel didn’t bother keeping track of the seconds or the minutes spent splayed out over your body; he only sensed when he was starting to go soft and you wriggled your hips underneath. He shifted and let you flip around.

His cock now completely out and a smile touching your lips as you turned to face him, your gaze flitted to his.

“Can you go get me one of your shirts, please?”

You were also both stark naked, thanks to the lightning-quick stripdown you’d both done the second you’d made it to the bedroom. Though Joel was sleepy, he knew the routine: get you a shirt, get him a clean pair of boxers, and get the two of you off to sleep. It’d been a long day.

“Yes, dear,” he answered dutifully.

He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose before rising. He padded his slow, heavy feet over to the dresser at the opposite end of the room, and he opened the top drawer.

“Second one, please. With the flannels,” you called out.

Okay.

Joel snagged a pair of underwear for himself, then went to the next drawer to get you a flannel to wear, since the scorching heat of your house evidently wasn’t enough to keep you warm. He smiled to himself, about to crack a wiseass comment about you being cold-blooded or something, when the man was obliged to stop. He took one look inside, dropped his boxers, and paused a spell.

When Joel started again, it wasn’t to speak—he just turned and lifted the first thing he saw in the drawer.

“Wha—oh, shoot. I was supposed to wrap that,” you said swiftly, wincing as he held it. Still smiling at him, though.

“Seems a little small to be a gift for me, don’t you think?”

In his grasp was a miniature onesie. Beneath it, in the drawer you’d directed him to, there had been at least four more just like it. All soft, pastel-colored, and small.

Your smile stretched even wider as you shook your head.

“It’s from Maria and Tommy. More of a…future present, for the two of us,” you shrugged, pushing to sit up in bed.

Joel eyed you a moment. He wasn’t sure what to say.

On your face, he saw hope and excitement etched bright. Like you were fine to keep waiting on this ‘future,’ no matter the duration. One glimpse of that and Joel felt a lump the size of his fist in his throat. He walked over.

And it had to be the last thing you wanted to see, surely—him setting the onesie down, dropping beside you in bed, then fumbling gracelessly, uselessly, to hold you.

Feeling every bit the remorseful, too-old man who couldn’t give you what you wanted. He wanted it, too.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he blurted out, unthinking. He pulled you to his chest; within his own, his heart was pounding, “I know…I know it’s taking us awhile. That’s my fault—”

“Joel.”

“My cum’s as old as dust and that’s probably why—”

“You don’t—”

“—you aren’t pregnant yet. I know it’s frustrating for—”

“Seriously, Joel—”

“—you to deal with. All of that disappointment, I mean—”

“JOEL.”

“What?”

His pulse was still thudding away. You blinked once.

Then, in a slow but deliberate path, your gaze trailed over to the nightstand. Joel’s followed after in similar fashion.

“You still haven’t opened your present,” you said. Stern.

It wasn’t the tone Joel had been expecting to hear at all.

And when you handed him the box, he felt his blood pressure spike. Absently, he thought that couldn’t be safe for a man his age. He couldn’t even tell what it held, and still, the prospect of it had him anxious beyond words. He turned it over; something rattled inside.

‘Go on, Joel.’ Your voice coaxed him gentler then.

And he did, though his fingers trembled some.

The weight in his grip could’ve been an ounce, a pound, or a ton, and his hands would’ve shaken all the same. Joel felt a current pulse through him as he slid the lid off.

Then he just stared.

His eyes widened.

“That’s…”

“Exactly what I have been trying to give you all night!” You laughed. The sound was light, not derisive or cruel.

When he looked up to you, your cheeks were as full and high as he’d seen them all day—you were smiling so big.

That made him think that this wasn’t a joke. Or a dream.

Surely his brain couldn’t have contrived both the most perfect, blinding smile on your face and a slim, white, pink-capped little stick with a ‘+’ on the screen at once.

It still hadn’t hit him completely, though, so he blinked.

“Really?” His voice was hoarse. Vacillating.

“Really.” Yours was more certain. Happy.

And, while the truth of it was slow to seep in, Joel knew he couldn’t waste another moment. He didn’t think—just pulled you in and squeezed you to him as tight as a vice. He couldn’t think—the rush of his blood in his ears and the puffs of your breath and the clatter of that positive pregnancy test in its box, discarded, were all too much.

As soon as he squeezed, your next breath was a sob.

“I meant to tell you, Joel. I meant to. I’m…I’m sorry.”

Your confession came out muffled against his chest, though Joel heard it all with total clarity. In a blink, he had you drawn back a little, just so he could hold your face and search your gaze with his own in a wide look.

Before he could even speak, he saw the tears welling up, as if coming from nowhere. You were still trying to smile.

“It’s been weeks. Since…since my period. I just—” With a wince that could’ve shredded Joel’s insides in two, you went on, “—I couldn’t stand disappointing you again.”

The same way he’d felt. Why you couldn’t tell him.

“Baby, hey, no— no. No, no, no. Please don’t say that.”

It was all Joel could do to keep his own emotions at bay.

“After the last time, and the— and the way you looked so happy at the thought of being a dad, I…I…had to be sure. Maria got me a test, and we triple-checked.” You sniffled.

Moving to wipe at tears as if any of this was your fault. Joel’s thumbs only grew more fervent in their path to smear the moisture away, and his head kept shaking back and forth—‘No, sweetheart, that’s not on you. Don’t even think that. Come here.’—as he tried to be a comfort. He couldn’t be happier. He hoped you were too. While tears engulfed his hands, he hoped you would be.

Even if his bones were old and his knees were weaker than he wanted them to be; even if you couldn’t count on two hands how many years stretched out between you and the decades made it seem like forever to the people in town. Even if this baby was the first, and last, you had.

Joel just wanted you happy.

It was all he could ask to have.

“We’re gonna be parents,” you said, half in awe.

You blinked harder and more tears slid down, but the look behind them was brighter. Your eyes were on his.

“We’re gonna be parents,” Joel repeated, “You and me.”

Then he pinched your puffy, wet cheeks, pictured a baby that looked the tiniest bit like you, and he had to lean in. He kissed slower than he meant to—had to savor you.

A baby.

His baby.

Your eyes were a little wider when he pulled away.

“Happy with your present, daddy?” you teased.

Joel blinked, and he thought of the dozen-odd boxes he had laid out under the tree downstairs—all for you to unwrap in the morning—and he realized then that you had him soundly beat in the gift department that year. Though none of what he’d bought could even hope to hold a candle to what you’d given him tonight, there were still ways to try and make it up. Say thank you.

“I love my present. And I love you.” Joel answered softly.

And just as you smiled, were about to slide back under the covers and tell him you loved him just as much, he grabbed your ankle. Started to lower himself after you.

Your eyes widened more.

“Joel Miller.”

His smirk widened right back.

“One more present before bed?”

You might’ve rolled your eyes, but you let him climb over you just the same. You felt his weight shift over yours, sensed a familiar stir in the depths of your body, and peered up to meet a matching smile you knew you’d find.

Joel was beaming from ear to ear like this was the luckiest day he’d lived to see. Like he couldn’t wait to show how glad he was to be a dad—over and over again.

“Just wanna make sure we made it…stick, y’know?”

He was grinning now. Gently laying you down.

You sighed, smiled, and spread your legs.

“Too late. You’re stuck with me, Miller.”

“Yeah? I like the sound of that.”

“What?”

“Stuck.”

[minhosimthings]

A Nonsense Christmas || NSFW

Synopsis: Due to a terrible snowstorm, you were forced to skip out on your yearly family gathering. However, your Christmas gets better when a certain blonde slips through your chimney to give you, your naughty presents.

Pairings: Felix × fem!reader, includes rest of Skz, Julie of Kiof, Ni-ki of Enhypen

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, p in v sex, use of vibrator, fingering, hair pulling, brief squirting, missionary, loss of virginity, virgin!reader, unprotected sex (not for you), praise, degradation, overstimulation, swearing, dirty talk, mention of alcohol

A/N: FELIX NAVIDAD FELIX NAVIDAD YEAHHHH. Fun fact, this is my second Felix fic. And also my entry to @stayblrofficial's Holiday Writing Event! Anyway, a late Merry Christmas to everyone and I hope next year is as splendid as this one was. As always, enjoy!

Word count: 6.8k

Song Rec: Juno by Sabrina Carpenter (preferably her live stages)

Stockings on the wall, peppermint tea, a giant tree with baubles, snowmen, hot chocolate, presents and Santa Claus.

And maybe Mariah Carey too.

Those were the things that made your Christmas, a true Christmas.

Ever since you were old enough to remember, you knew your family was crazy about Christmas. Each year, without fail you’d be dragged off to buy new stockings, a ginormous tree, hot chocolate bombs, gifts for relatives and numerous Christmas events organised by some or the other watchkeeping society. You distinctly remember the smell of warm milk and your mother’s home baked cookies wafting into your room on Christmas Eve. You also remember the feeling of a slap on the hand when you and your brother tried to steal some cookies, only to be chided and locked in your rooms until the morning, lest you sneak out and ‘find’ Santa Claus. 

But of course, being the amazing child you were, you learnt from an early age that the fat man who rode a sleigh pulled by reindeers and carried a sack full of presents was nothing but an old wives tale. Laughter still erupted from within you whenever you’d recall the time you told your younger brother, Riki about it, making him sob for an hour–though he immediately shut up when you bribed him with a stolen cookie. 

Christmas with your family was always the happiest day of the year, no matter what complicated adult shit was going on in your life. Pending taxes and doctor’s appointments that you’d missed? Screw that, you were going home to waste an hour a day for three days playing League with your brother on your parents’ 16 inch flat screen TV. 

 Even the idea of boarding the plane to your hometown always made you kick your feet up in the air. All the planning, the buying of gifts (along with the hours of waiting in line at the stores), the baking—practically everything Christmas related filled your soul with joy and hope.

But this year was different.

This year brought along with it, a snowstorm—which wouldn't die out until the January of next year. 

That is how the meticulously planned flights and schedules that you had arranged in your calendar all went into the trash bin, as you had to listen to your parents wail about how they’d miss their most beloved child so much at the Christmas party they were having. All as your brother watched on with betrayal in his eyes from the background. 

Though you tried to soothe their nerves by saying how you’d have just as much fun this year as you did every year, deep inside, you were sobbing non-stop. Everytime you remembered the fact that you wont get to sleep in your childhood bedroom this year, you cried into your pillow, eventually drifting off to sleep from the exhaustion. 

In a lousy attempt to cheer yourself up, you accompanied your colleague Julie to a Christmas tree hunt for her house. You had even taken your brown trench coat and deerstalker hat out—a Christmas gift from your parents. While Julie was off bargaining with her crocodile tears, you snooped around the tinier trees—meant for those people who either wanted to spend their Christmas alone, or just didn't want a massive and expensive tree. 

And when your eyes landed on one that was sitting all alone, just waiting for the right person to take it home, you knew in your heart that you just had to be that right person.

Some more crocodile tears and a few transactions later, you were suddenly standing in front of your fireplace with a tiny tree decorated with even tinier baubles. The tree reached up to your waist, and though it wasn't as big as the one your parents had, it still warmed your heart enough to get out of your momentary depression and get onto the road to Christmas cheer. So what if you couldn't be with your family? You were big enough to enjoy festivals on your own now.

And so began your quest to celebrate Christmas exactly as you did each year—albeit without your family. You’d have to omit some of the family games and (unfortunately) the tradition of smacking Riki's head into a pie, but apart from that, you were determined to prepare a Christmas Eve feast fit for one and do everything that you'd do if you were home.

Who knows? 

Maybe you’d even stay up for Santa.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The living room was warm, cozy and overall looked straight out of a Christmas movie. After some hard hours of snooping out your basement, you stumbled upon some Christmas-sy decorations, which in reality were from last year's Halloween. 

But hey, decor is decor, and your house finally looked like something which was not the Grinch's house. With mistletoe hanging from every corner, along with your tiny tree and a cracking fire, you plopped down on your couch, and let out a sigh. The dinner you made was devoured within fifteen minutes, and you were surprised by how great your plum-pudding turned out. Maybe Christmas would be great this year as well. 

Alas though.

All that mistletoe and no one to kiss it under. 

All wrapped up in work ever since you graduated, you never really thought about relationships and all that jazz. Under the weight of your parents’ protests for grandchildren, you’d gone on a few dates here and there. But gradually, you started to lose interest and so did your parents. Their interest turned to your brother, whose misery you enjoyed in a sadistic sibling way. 

And anyways, who needs boyfriends and mistresses when you’ve got something better?

Fanfiction! 

Sitting on the couch, you lazily scrolled across your Tumblr home-page. A gleam tore through your eyes as the sight of all the Christmas fics. Your fingers soon started aching from all the tiny hearts that appeared at the end of every other fic that popped up, with their customised banners and flamboyant titles. Most of them were your general Christmas morning fun stories, but the ones that particularly caught your egregiously horny eyes were the ones where the ‘warnings’ paragraphs stood the tallest. 

Unsurprisingly most of them were named after Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan songs. But then again, who’d skip the opportunity to name a fic about filthy positions and a short part about bondage, ‘After Midnight’? 

After meticulously crafting a well curated library of fics (ranging from sugary sweet to the one about the 69), you glanced up at your clock.

10:03

You had recently been enjoying going to bed as soon as the hands of the clock hit nine pm. Yes, it was a ridiculously early bedtime for someone whose teenage years were filled with promises of staying up till 2 in the morning when you grow up, but if adulthood had taught you anything, it's that 'early to bed, early to rise' was actually a pretty good proverb to live by. Were you getting old? Perhaps. 

Still not old enough to stay up for Santa though, you thought, laying your phone down on the coffee table and settling comfortably onto the couch. You curled up like a cat, and faced the warm fire, crackling in front of you.

Your eyes wandered up to the Christmas list that you had created on a whim, when you got drunk with Julie earlier that day. There were only two things on the list.

A glittery blue vibrator, and for someone to fuck you into the next year. 

A bit much to wish for some old man in a red suit to bring all of those things to you in a sack, but hey it never hurts to hope. And plus, you were horny and all those cunningulus fics were not helping.

With a stomach threatening to burst if you eat one more cookie, and a body that was just plain exhausted, you snapped your eyes shut and drifted off to a much deserved sleep. 

It will be a happy Christmas tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And what about that big bunch of fertilizer for that farmer from Norway?” Seungmin anxiously tapped his foot as he scanned his eyes again and again over a list attached to his clipboard. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, and his friends Jeongin, Hyunjin and Changbin were staring at him with concern in their eyes.

“Seung, you should think about taking a nap for a while.” Chan strode into the room with a huge box  stuffed with toys in his arms, “Everything will be fine.” He added on seeing Seungmin’s horrified expression. 

“It's okay Seungmin, I can just knock you out.” Minho sauntered into the room, wearing a red leather jacket and a huge smile—which turned into a frown when Chan glared at him.

“I just don’t understand how we’re supposed to do all of this without Santa.” Seungmin sighed, collapsing into a chair, “I knew we should have started everything months ago.”

“People wouldn't have even started to make their Christmas wishes by then.” Hyunjin said in a soothing voice, in an attempt to calm his friend’s nerves. Seungmin only sank further into the chair, with a disappointed expression on his face.

“I would.” A cheerful voice said from the corner, which turned out to be Jisung, who was dressed from head to toe in red and gold, looking like a Christmas prince in all his majesty. Jeongin rolled his eyes and looked at the empty armchair next to him. He looked up at Chan.

“Where’s Lix?” He asked, alarmed by the fact that the person who had practically been glued to him all morning was now nowhere to be seen. Chan shrugged, but then Changbin responded.

“I think I saw him checking out stuff in the pink section earlier.” Changbin’s ears turned faintly red when he said this. And it wasn't due to the freezing cold.

The ‘pink section’ was a notorious part of Santa’s workshop. In short, it contained the more ‘adult’ wishes—which were made by single, lonely people or by people who hadn't tasted genitalia in years. Santa was said to have established that section at the demand of his wife, but even Jeongin—the history buff—didn't know the exact reason why. Either way, it was a section, whose contents none of the boys liked handling. Each year they would draw their lots to decide what section each would handle. This year Chan was in charge of the toys and Seumgin was in charge of gardening material. 

And the pink section? It went to none other than—

“Lix!” Jisung exclaimed, at the sight of the blonde haired man standing at the door, “Close the door will you? The heater’s on.”

“I noticed.” Felix said in his rich and captivating voice, that could charm almost anyone. Felix flung his arms up and stretched like a cat, the sound of his stiff bones cracking could be heard, as he sat on the empty armchair next to Jeongin with the widest smile on his face.

“Why so joyous, Lix?” Minho asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Felix turned to him.

“It's my first time doing the pink section.” He said rather proudly. A few strands of hair settled in front of his face, framing it beautifully and surrounding him with a magnificent, peacock-like aura.

“You need any pointers?” Chan said, to which Minho laughed raucously.

“Christopher Banhg, our resident playboy.” He said in between fits of laughter. Changbin joined in the teasing, whilst Chan’s entire face slowly started to turn red.

“How many times have you chosen the pink section again?” Changbin asked, “Oh right, seven times.” He answered his own question before Chan could even open his mouth, “I bet you know everything there is to know about it.”

“Oh shut up.” Chan said, his eyes still stuck to the floor, before he turned them to Felix, ‘As I was saying, do you want tips, Felix?”

Before Jisung could say ‘that’s what she said’ Felix spoke, “Nope, I am well prepared for tonight!” His eyes formed crescent moons as he smiled brightly, “I’m particularly excited for this one request though.”

“Oooohhh.” Hyunjin grinned mischievously, “I bet it's a pretty one.” Felix nodded, to which the entire room burst out into laughter.

“Watch out, Chan, he’s coming for your playboy title.” Jisung chuckled, “What’s the wish then?”

“Well, she wants the usual—” Felix took out a post-it note from his pocket and began reading, “A glittery blue vibrator, and the interesting part—” He smirked deviously, whilst raising a brow, “for someone to fuck her into the next year.”

A collective 'oooh' rang around the room as the boys glanced at each other with teasing eyes, and then at Felix. Those kind of requests were usually rare, and at most, all of the boys (excluding the oldest playboy) had fucked about three people, in all of their career. 

“I’m weirdly excited.” Felix affirmed, putting the list back in his pocket, and looking past Jeongin’s shoulder at the giant window. Outside, on the beautiful canvas of the starry night, snowflakes fell without any cease in their seemingly perpetual motion. As Minho and Hyunjin had been complaining for a week, this year’s winter was harsher than any before. And they meant it quite literally, as they lived at The North Pole. 

“Best of luck Lix.” Changbin gave him a bright smile before standing up, alarming Jeongin, who had his legs resting over Changbin’s thighs.

“Not that you’ll need it though.” Minho said through a barely stifled yawn, “Oh well, I’m off to groom my reindeers. Come along, Innie.” Jeongin grudgingly got up and followed Minho and Changbin out of the room. Hyunjin and Jisung soon followed, after stealing pieces of plum cake from Chan and after Seungmin left—with Chan following carefully behind him—Felix sighed and slumped deeper into the chair.

Reaching into his inner jacket pocket—the secret one he had painstakingly stitched—he pulled out a picture that looked like it was taken on a Polaroid camera. 

It was a picture of a woman, dressed in a brown trench coat and a ridiculous deerstalker hat. She was pretty damn hot, Felix had to admit, with a posture so straight that he wondered if she was a princess. 

“Fucked into the next year, huh?” He chuckled to himself, putting the picture back into his pocket and running a hand through his hair.

He couldn't wait to get to your house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As a child, you had always imagined Santa to be a bit slimmer than the pictures in which he was depicted, reasoning that he wouldn't be able to fit through chimneys if he was that big. Though your parents were quick to laugh at your opinion, they also didn't want to tell their mere child of a daughter that Santa wasn't real. So they encouraged your extremely controversial opinion. 

And you held that opinion quite proudly. None of the other kids in your class had ever thought about that, and regarded you as the class’ genius. Because of this, to this day you still expected Santa (if he did exist) to be the kind of dude you saw on advertisements for gyms.

What you did not expect Santa to be was a 5’8-ish, ridiculously gorgeous blonde guy, dressed in a red suit that fit him beautifully, holding a sack tied with a red ribbon. He stared at you. You stared back.

This was not how you were expecting your Christmas to go like.

Not with a robbery.

“Who the fuck are you.” You said, cautiously picking up a pillow. You tried to run your mind back to all those childhood self-defence classes. Although—judging by this guy’s muscles—they weren't going to be of much use.

“Relax, Miss Y/N.” The man said in a voice as beautiful as his face, “I’m not gonna hurt you.” By the faint light of the crackling fire behind him, you could spot tiny freckles painted across his cheekbones, “I’m here to deliver your Christmas presents.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck. 

“You do realise you sound crazy right now?” You said, gripping the pillow a bit tighter, “Listen dude, if you’re here to rob me, I have nothing in my—”

“As I said,” The man kept speaking in the same eloquent manner, “I’m here to deliver your presents.” He preemptively flung his sack to the ground, and bent down on one knee, unravelling the ribbon and opening it up. He reached inside and pulled out a box, setting it on the table in front of him and closing his sack again. Then he looked up at you.

“I’m sorry, but could you please turn the lights on?” He said, “I can’t see that well in the dark.”

This younger Aussie version of Santa can't see well in the dark? You thought as you turned a lamp on. As much as this was the most unbelievable scenario ever, something in the back of your brain told you everything that was happening was real and you were certainly not high right now.

“Um…excuse me?” You began lamely, the blonde looked up at you, “What’s your name?”

“Oh pardon me. I forgot to introduce myself.” He laughed and got up, extending a hand, “I’m Felix. And I'm here to deliver your presents from the North Pole!” He motioned towards the meticulously wrapped present lying next to your tiny tree. Your eyes wandered from the ground up to the note stuck on top of the fireplace.

A glittery blue vibrator, and for someone to fuck you into the next year. 

“Uh…” You said, unsure of what else to say. You took another look at the man—Felix. He certainly was handsome, you thought—perhaps not exactly your type but definitely good-looking enough. His long hair fell over his wide shoulders, and you could see the way his suit was tightly fit over his biceps. Your stomach flipped over.

This guy was extremely hot.

And you were extremely horny.

“When you say presents—” You began, slowly sitting down on the couch, “—do you mean that there’s an actual vibrator in there?”

Felix nodded and sat down next to you, running a sharp tongue over his lips. His soft, pink lips. Was it just you or was the fire way too warm right now?

Your life was nothing short of interesting. As a child, you had gotten into multiple ...activities that always seemed to have a surprise at every turn. But this?

This was on top of the list of weird things that have ever happened to you. 

“Would you like to open the presents?” Felix snapped you out of your thoughts and you raised your head abruptly to look at him. Your eyes locked onto his and you audibly gasped. 

He had eyes as black as coal, stunningly beautiful, with the comfort of a warm fire glowing behind them. They made you want to dive into them and swim around for a while.

“You’re so pretty.” You whispered, not comprehending what you said until a second later, “I mean–” You internally slapped yourself, “—I’m sorry that’s not I meant I just—”

“It’s alright doll.” Felix cut you off, “I think you’re pretty too.” His voice again; it felt like a glass of whiskey after a long day. Doll, he called you. 

“Oh..” You trailed off, feeling warmth creep up to your cheeks, “Thank you.” You mumbled, looking down at the presents once more, “Should I open them now? Or wait till tomorrow? I don't wanna be ‘a naughty girl’ or anything.”

“Don't worry about that.” Felix leaned forward to rest his hands on his thighs, “You’re already on the naughty list, sweetheart.”

You gulped down the saliva accumulating in your mouth, and rushed to pick the box up. Your hands shook as you pulled the satin ribbon. The walls of the box collapsed to reveal a long, blue machine, covered from head to toe in glitter. You looked up at Felix. 

“You really are the weirdly younger version of Santa huh?” You said in a shaky voice. Felix smiled—he seemed to shine when he did so.

“I’m an assistant.” He said, shifting closer to you, his eyes wavered down to your lips, “There are eight of us in total, and we go around the world each year to give out presents to children and adults alike.” He looked at the vibrator and smirked, “No matter how naughty they’ve been.”

The queasy feeling rose in your stomach once more. As hard as you tried to avert it, your gaze went to his lips again and again.

“But, I’ve caught you haven't I?” You said in a soft voice, “W-Won't you be punished or something?” Felix smiled again and shifted dangerously close this time.

“That was the plan, sweetheart.” His voice was as deep as the rumbling of the earth, “You see, I only delivered one of your precious presents.” He smirked again and his hand came up to caress your cheek, you didn't pry it off, “You still have another wish don't you?” He leaned forward and whispered, “To be fucked into next year?” 

His warm breath against your neck made you shiver, you could feel his knee pushing to open your legs. Normally, this would be an abnormal situation. But it was Felix and you wanted him to do to you what the characters in your fics did to each other. 

"Felix…" You sighed, tensing up as he nudged his nose into the crook of your neck. His lips soon followed, attaching to your skin and leaving warm, wet kisses. They really were as soft as they looked. 

"Shush now." He mumbled, absorbed into pressing kisses down your neck, "How about I take care of you tonight, hm?" 

You stayed silent. How could you tell him that you've never actually…done it?

“Felix I-” You took in a shaky breath, “I’ve never…done this before.” Felix looked up at you with widened eyes and blinked. Then he smiled gently.

“That’s alright, doll.” Doll, again, “I’ll be gentle, if you want me to.” He slipped his hand off your thigh and extended it to you, glancing at the stairs to your bedroom, “Shall we?”

Taking his hand was the best decision you had made all year.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Felix’s lips are almost unfairly soft against your own as his hands rush to undress you, pushing your t-shirt up your waist and pulling down your shorts to the middle of your thighs. Pressing his forehead against yours, Felix pulls away ever so slightly, “Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?”

Nodding, you can’t help but be curious about his plan. You find yourself questioning every fic you’ve read in the past. Or maybe they’ve never had Felix’s tongue shoved into their throats. 

Felix lazily drags your panties down your legs, flinging them across the room before slipping a hand below your legs and picking you up, placing you gently onto the bed. Romantic, you thought. 

He placed a kiss to your forehead before he started to strip himself, your gaze raked over his body as you waited on the bed, biting your lip in anticipation. Once he was matching you in nakedness, he crawled up to your position on the mattress, starting to lavish attention to your body once again.

“Hey there, pretty.” Your cunt clenches around nothing at his words, earning a chuckle from Felix. Admittedly, you’d never felt so dizzy at the prospect of having a man go down on you—he just looks so pretty, with his freckles and his hair and his everything.

Dropping his head between your knees, he groaned at the sight, and bit his lip to contain himself. You wanted to cover yourself but when your legs moved even a tiny bit to hide, he spread them wider and the cool breezes from around the room slapped across your feverish cunt. 

The feeling was already so pleasurable, and you didn’t know if it was the afternoon glass of rum making you feel this way or just Felix, either way you knew you were incredibly turned on.

“Have you ever touched yourself down here?” The way he said it, as if you were all innocent, he narrowed his eyes when you nodded yes, “Hold on.” Felix reached across and grabbed the box you had set on the bedside table. Your present.

"Used a vibrator before, sweetheart?" He asked gently, smiling when you shook your head, "That's alright, I can show you how." His voice deepened as he said the last words and you widened your eyes. 

Adorable, Felix thought, as he handed you the vibrator. Albeit being momentarily confused, you nudged it onto your labia—like how the fics described.

There you were, bathed in soft moonlight, laying on your mattress naked, legs spread, and steadying the vibrator on your clit. Felix smirked to himself as he studied the way your thighs quivered when he placed his hand on top of yours 

"May I, pretty?" Felix cooed, reaching for your pink vibrator. You handed it to him, laying back obediently and waiting for his ethereal touch. His freckles seemed to glow like stars in the moonlight—his face a magnificent galaxy.

And when he rested the vibrator onto your clit, you let out a relieved sigh in response, breathing out softly, lifting your hips up and grinding up against the vibrator in his grip.

"Good girl. Just lay back and relax for me," he softly directed you, his bare words were enough to send you to the edge of Heaven.

 "Oh, Felix," You glanced down at his smirk and how his eyes were fixed on the way you were clenching around nothing. He loved the way your slick folds glistened in the soft lighting, and the way your breasts started to subtly bounce as you started to violently shake. 

"How about we turn up the speed hm?" He mumbled, eyes lighting up when you nodded yes, unable to speak due to your current predicament. He was making you feel good—better than your fingers ever could. And better—you assumed—than any other man could.

The vibrations of the toy increased, making your legs shake as you tried to ground yourself from the intense pleasure that you wondered if you could take any more of. 

That was when Felix held you by your waist and started to target a specific spot, somewhere you could never reach with your own fingers. The feeling of him hitting your g-spot with such precision and the vibrator doing its job on your throbbing clit, made you squirm, trying to get away from the intensity of it all, but his firm hand on your shaking thigh kept you in place. 

With a loud muffled moan you squirted, unable to warn him—you were too unfamiliar with the feeling of such intense pleasure that it got you overwhelmed, too overwhelmed to even speak. The blonde let out a breathy chuckle when he saw the mess you were making, but didn’t stop nevertheless.

Your lips were fixed in an o shape, your cheeks were pink, and your brows were pinched together. You shut your eyes and threw your head back as Felix's name slipped through your slew of whimpers.

“Felix! Oh fuckk—” Your moan came straight from within your chest—a noise you didn’t even know you could make, “Felix I-” But you couldn’t finish your sentence, thanks to the almost painful feeling growing at the base of your belly. 

“Shh sweetheart, it’s alright.” Felix’s voice was soothing and warm, “It’s alright, I’m here darling.”  You gulped softly when Felix gripped your hip with one hand and led the buzzing vibrator deeper into your sensitive pussy. The tip of the glittery blue machine slid up and down your slit, making you whine and push back against his hand.

 “Oh goddd—fuck fuck fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm. 

You never really understood the full feeling of an orgasm, settling on it being the feeling you got when your fingers got tired of rubbing your folds. But the feeling of Felix’s face being inches from you, his eyes beautifully darkened and his hand working against your sex, you realised this was what all the fics described. A feeling like an earthquake erupting from within you.

You were right on the verge of greatness again, slowly nearing a climactic ending, when your eyes fluttered open, and you saw Felix sitting up on his knees, holding the vibrator far from your throbbing pussy. He was staring down hungrily at your thighs, a look lingered behind his eyes—a dangerous one.

Without warning, he took his middle finger and started teasing your folds with it, the vibrator now disposed on the side. Your eyes widened as he sunk his finger into your drooling cunt. For a moment, you thought about the probability of this being a glorious dream. But when his long, veiny finger pushed all the way in, a long, satisfied sigh escaped from your parted lips and you did not want this dream to end.

Your folds glistened in the dim moonlight, the obvious need evident in your tone when Felix plunged another finger inside your tight heat. "Fu—ck," you moaned softly, your breathing a lot more ragged now that he was moving his digit in and out of you, slipping his fingers in knuckle-deep and smirking at how you seemed to suck in his fingers. God how pretty you looked, with your shaking body covered in sweat—you glistened like diamonds in the light.

"Someone’s eager," Felix chuckled. The pads of his fingers started to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting slightly louder moans from you.

“You want me to stop, baby?” Felix’s brows furrowed worriedly at the sight of your ragged breathing. You shook your head at him and placed your hand at the back of his head, gripping his hair. Felix moaned loudly.

 "Fuck sweetheart," he grinned at you as he added his ring finger, and you could feel the cold metal of his ring on the warm flesh of your thighs as he pumped them back and forth into your heat, “Fuck—keep-keep doing that…that’s right..” His voice was a bit deeper, betraying his arousal. Who knew Santa’s assistant had such a filthy kink?

Felix’s hair was feather-soft against your shaking hand, as you brought your right hand up as well to feel it. Your grip on his hair only motivated him more, as the sounds of your pussy squelching as it sucked up his fingers, filled the room. His middle finger worked immaculately against your cunt, a place you could have never reached with your fingers alone. 

Felix looked magnificent as he admired your body—the crook of your neck, the soft skin of your thighs, the way your eyes rolled back—he was relishing every single thing about you. Wild, primal thoughts flanked each neuron of his mind. Felix could feel your cold breath hit his lips gently, like a cool wind moving a river. 

“Shit—can I kiss you, sweetheart?” He asked cautiously, his fingers tensing inside of you when you nodded. You felt his lips press against yours, the sweet feeling of pressing candy to your mouth came to you. You could taste slight notes of rum and cranberry on his tongue—an intoxicating flavour.

He pulled away briefly, his face was still close, and he pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. Your hand pulled his hair once more and he groaned deeply, his cock twitching between his legs. 

Fuck, you were so gorgeous. A faux memory played out in Felix’s mind, he wanted you all to himself—in sickness and in health, till death do you part. The way your lips parted and the melodic way you said his name, he never knew his name was such an elysian thing, till he heard it from your lips.

His hot lips moved away from yours and down to your neck, kissing and gently biting the delicate skin. You let out a gasp and arched your neck, it felt so divine that you didn’t even notice that his fingers were out of your pussy and placed on your hip. 

Your breasts moved into Felix’s face as you arched your back at his teeth digging into your skin like a savage animal and Felix audibly whined. His hand came up to play with your boobs, his fingers fiddling with delicate skin. His painfully hard cock grew even harder, as he wanted nothing more but to fuck the sanity out of you.

“Baby,” he breathed, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he could manage when he was this overstimulated, “Sweetheart, don’t you want my cock?,” he whispered again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you.

“Lix…” You whine, you could see his rock-hard length between his legs, “Lix—need your cock–please please pleeasee…” Felix was undone by you—the way you writhed underneath him, the way your voice shook, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed—he could feel it and he loved it.

 “Alright… alright, doll.” He chuckled, gripping your hips in order to align himself with you. He was big–huge even–it made you a bit nervous. You knew from your non-virgin friends that–at most, it was only 4 or 5 inches, without all that ego. You didn’t have a ruler but you knew that Felix was much more than 5 inches.

What a way to lose your virginity.

“Ah-ahhh fuck!” You nearly screamed as he entered you, Felix didn’t like teasing–and by God were you thankful for that.

“You like that baby?” Felix grunted, his voice was oh so deep–as was his length, “Yeah, you like being stretched out huh?” His right hand was underneath you now, squeezing your buttcheek like his own personal stress toy, “Naughty, naughty girl—ah godddd” Felix was a moaning, whimpering mess, the sound of you making him feel lightheaded as he pounded into you, “Should have known you were a dirty girl when I saw that list–oh fuck, keep squeezing me like that—that’s a good girl…” Your slick walls were clenching around him like a vice, and he knew he was done for.

You could only moan in response, reeling in the way his cock stretched out your walls, the sting being nothing compared to the bliss you felt as he relentlessly fucked you.

"so fucking pretty, taking me like this, so so pretty" Felix continued, rambling.

"mphm, Felix, you're so big!" You moaned, thinking nothing of it as you spoke, his size being the only thing in your mind at that moment. His thumb strokes against yours, trying to distract you from the pressure, pressing your forehead with kisses, singing you soft praises.

"You're so tight," he whispered, relishing in the way you clenched around him while it started to adjust itself. The pain was killing you, but at the same time–you wanted more. 

No, wanted wasn't the right word. 

You needed more.

“You’re almost all the way in ,darling” Felix whispers, almost as if he heard your thoughts. His breathing is growing heavier by the second, and he’s forcing himself to hold back from just thrusting the remainder of his cock in. He knew it was your first time—those adorable eyes, that filthy mouth of yours begging him for more—but he resisted, lest he hurt you.

“Oh Felix fuckkkk..” Your eyes opened to look at him. He was beautiful, an angel in his own right, moon-like eyes and a face full of constellations. No wonder, you couldn't stop yourself from falling into him.

Your mind is gradually turning more hazy with Felix’s cock taking up the majority of your thoughts, on top of his scent that’s been creeping into your olfactory senses. The more Felix inched his cock into you, the more he pressed onto your g-spot, and the more it started to make you see stars whenever you blinked. You grew so sensitive that you felt every throb Felix’s cock is giving you.

“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please Lix...” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more. 

"Good girl. You're taking me so well." he praised you softly while he delivered a few harder thrusts, "Can't believe this is your first dick," Soon, there was no pain at all, only pleasure. 

Your eyes rolled back briefly as Felix hit that spot deep within you, the one that made sparks dance behind your eyes, the one that made you moan from your chest.

You felt your pussy expanding around him as he started rocking his hips back and forth, hitting that same spot again. You held your breath for a moment, still adjusting to the size difference, and when you exhaled, a few stifled sounds came through. It hurt so good. 

He grabbed you by your waist, steadying himself while he started to speed up, getting caught up in how good your virgin hole felt wrapped around him. Felix watched as he pumped back and forth, fixating on the way you coated his length in your arousal.

You couldn't help but groan at the change in tempo, head craning back into the pillow, your mouth slung wide open.

“Felix oh god!!” You whined, your walls were so sensitive, “Fuck, you’re so hot..” You had no idea what words were coming out from your mouth, “Ahh—ahhh fucking hell—I love you!” You wouldn't even remember saying those words until the next day. Felix’s eyes visibly softened at you.

"Say it again for me, darling?" He slowed his pace, but increased his temperament, his hips slapping against yours with a sting as he thrust in and out of you, slow and hard. 

“I–ah shit!” You gasped, his scent was your oxygen, “I love you..”

“I love you too, baby.” Felix leaned forward to kiss you. Your lips danced passionately, even as your bodies stayed connected to each other. His lips felt like first snow and soft ice cream, you wanted to devour and be devoured by him.

“Look at you, you sweet little thing...” He teased as he grinded his cockhead into your sweet spot, slowly sliding in and out just to feel your wetness coat his dick. It’s pure nirvana for him, warm and wet and perfect, a place he could bury himself inside.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of anticipation and frustration building within you. You clenched your fists, digging your nails into the mattress, as Felix continued to move at a pace that was maddeningly fast.

“Going dumb on my dick aren't you baby?” he groans as his hips slap into yours, bruising your walls and using you, his cock is throbbing inside you, balls twitching and voice falling more breathy and desperate—so close to filling your pretty little pussy up.

"Cum with me, baby, cum all over my cock like a good girl." Felix said through gritted teeth, his tone somehow still soft and caring despite his pace. 

“Oh god…Felix!” You moaned, “fuck fuck fuck need your c-cum please—oh my god.” Every muscle felt like fire. You’re caught up in how everything feels, too distracted to care about the noises spilling out of your mouth. All you know is this feels good – it feels passionate.

As if on command, his last, hard thrust sent you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, you released sticky juices all over his length, the squelching sound of him fucking you through your toe curling orgasm making him reel. 

With another cry of release, you shattered again and again it seemed, your body arching as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Felix held you tightly, his fingers digging into your side as you trembled in his arms.

He was seconds behind, filling you up with his cum, fucking it into you as he stuttered above you, pressing his weight further down as he gripped and tugged at any skin of yours he could reach.

“That’s it, that’s it baby.” He worked you through your toe-curling orgasm, "That's it my love, you’re doing so good for me.”

Your breathless moans filled the room as he stilled inside you, letting his cum soak into your walls and his length, unable to bring himself to pull out. His hand came to your hair as he rested his head against yours, trying to catch his breath with fluttery eyes. You leaned into his touch, humming at his soft caress.

“Good girl,” Felix murmurs, being careful in the way he pulls out slowly from your well-used hole. You shudder, and Felix feels the way your entire body tenses, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, darling.”

Your chests heaved with exertion. In spite of his softening cock, Felix couldn’t help the feral, almost animalistic, feeling when he saw the sight of your mixed release trickling out of your pussy.

“Ahh shit.” He mumbles, rolling over to collapse next to you. Felix feels something touching the sole of his foot, and when he looks down, he chuckles, making you look at him.

“What happened?” You ask drowsily, your eyes on the verge of falling asleep. 

“It’s nothing, sweetheart.” Felix assures you, pushing the cum-soaked vibrator at the bottom of the bed onto the floor, “Are you alright, baby?”

“That–” You breathe in deeply and smile with your eyes still closed, “—was the best Christmas present I’ve ever received.”

“I’m glad, sweetheart.” Felix smiles, pulling you safely into his arms, as you drifted off to sleep.

Felix sighed and melted into your warmth. He had to leave in a few hours to deliver all the other gifts, but a few more minutes wouldn't hurt and so he stayed.

After all, he’d be coming back on New Years as well.

With a much better present. 

Thank you for reading, dear reader! Hope you have a great day ❤❤

[ybklix]

marshmallow world

⭒˚‧ ✧ pairing: bang chan x fem!reader ☆ synopsis: a little lesson before christmas to continue your good girl streak and save yourself from the naughty list. ϑℓ genre ─ warnings: mdni, smut, tiny angst, daddy kink, dom!chan, jealousy & possessiveness, kinda toxic chan, spanking, slapping, dirty talk, pet names (some dreg), teasing, edging, orgasm denial, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, creampie ׄ 　۪｡ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ word count: 7k

masterlist ♡ taglist

wen's note: mini winter/holiday special, i'm sooo back, winter's here, enjoy :3 edit: I was writing this before #those selfies, woofwoof, he fed my delusions more yasss, also my beloved friend said no more dirty sex and i came back w more dirty sex, sorry:( just dom chan brain rot rn, edit2: bro railway teaserrr anywaysss

Chan was the sweetest boyfriend of all, it was an absolute dream to have him, he was attentive, took care of you, spoiled you, knew the smallest detail about you, and always paid attention to you despite his demanding job in a very competitive and hard industry which he worked hard to get there, you knew his story and you both completed each other.

But he only had one tiny detail, not everything was perfect, he had a small flaw that you let it go of because everything good made up for it… but the big damn problem with Chan was always his jealousy and possessiveness. To be honest, jealousy was never something you liked, it seemed absurd, toxic, like the person distrusted you… but coming from someone like Chan, you couldn’t help that sometimes you liked it, only sometimes, because sometimes he was too serious about it and it annoyed you, and other times you got sexual pleasure, but no matter how long you had been dating him, you never knew what to expect because it was always the same: his obvious annoyed expression.

You arrived home, you and Chan had been living together for a long time, it was late and the snowstorm almost caught you on the road, slightly delaying you a little, torturing you every second you spent locked in that car with your own boyfriend… because you just had a very nice night… to suddenly be ruined by Chan’s clear and very expressive face of disgust and anger. The ride was tense, you knew something was wrong with him, but particularly tonight you didn’t have the energy to confront him, so you’d let him go to bed upset if that was the right thing to do.

It had been the ‘Christmas’/holiday event for Chan’s entertainment company, of which he worked as an excellent and well-respected producer. So far, so good, before leaving your home, Chan laughingly hurried you, sweetly, telling you that you would be late while you fixed your lipstick and put on perfume; you were wearing a very nice short red dress, Chan was dressed in his black suit that made him look dreamy. You arrived at the event, some knew who you were, some didn’t, but everyone knew that Chan had a girlfriend. You enjoyed a very good time, had dinner, and danced, and then slightly each of you started to radiate your own charisma, being friendly and socializing with more people… all good, until halfway through the night you made a friend, Seo Changbin, another producer of the company since Chan left your side for a second to talk to his social circle or even expanding it, Changbin didn’t leave your side the rest of the night, you got along well, you thought it was nice to meet a new person.

But as soon as Chan saw you there the trouble started. He couldn’t believe such an atrocity his eyes had to witness. His girl, his, his, his, you would always be his property; talking and laughing with another guy while you gently touched his shoulder and leaned your body towards him as you giggled.

You were about to let it go, not be blinded by his jealousy… but it all went to hell as soon as he saw Lee Minho approach you, your ex-boyfriend, a choreographer for the company. And then there you were, like a little slut —so he thought— in the middle of two men, smiling, not knowing their intentions.

But Chan could not change. He was like that because he wanted you all to himself. And you never stopped him.

You sighed, avoiding looking at Chan and leaving him behind, as you took off your heels and he closed the main door. You were physically exhausted, cold, and emotionally unprepared to be exhausted if you faced Chan.

You ignored him, sucking air between your teeth from the sudden cold that shivered your whole body and the first thing you did was turn on the heat in the entire house, you turned on the lights of the pine tree and your Christmas decoration pretending to be fine, still, you were not calm, you felt his heavy gaze on your back, his ponderous breathing, not a single word had been spoken since he told you in a stern tone, “We’re leaving now.” You were so sober, your muscles stiff, about to remember this whole tense night the next morning.

You were about to go upstairs, about to cry because you hated ignoring Chan, because your pride was so great, and all you wanted from him was to be around his arms, feeling his warmth as it snowed outside, but no, you had done nothing wrong but talk to men other than him. You hoped he would think and come to his senses so he could apologize in a few hours at dawn.

But it wasn’t like that, Chan had his jaw tense, he was not just annoyed, but furious for some particular reason. He took off his long coat and watched you walk through the house, while he was lighting it up as he went by, he had so much to tell you, but his intentions were a bit diverted as he watched you walk up four steps while he was still standing on the first floor and had a very nice view of your bare legs in that short dress, arousing another feeling other than anger. In the end it was him taking you home, to bed, where you lived together and shared, he calmed down a bit, but he was still upset and wanted to claim you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he mentioned, his voice low and commanding. “We need to talk.”

Your hand was resting gently on the stair railing. You froze at the sound of his gravelly voice, stopped your steps, and looked toward nothing in particular, just with your eyes straight ahead. He was upset, you knew it, you could hear it in every word he said that made your skin flinch. You stood there for a second, sighing softly, whether to just ignore him, continue up the stairs, or confess to him that you didn’t want to talk, either option had fatal consequences anyway.

“I’m talking to you, Y/n” he said again.

“There’s nothing to talk about today, Chan. I’m going to sleep” you replied, unwillingly, turning your back to him.

He ran his tongue across his mouth, annoyed and in disbelief that you responded to him such a thing, like a spoiled little brat, unwilling to even look him in the eye, those were not the manners he had taught you. He always taught you to be a good little girl for him.

“Well, you may not have anything to say but I do and I want you to listen to me properly” he spat annoyed, his ears red in anger and a tingle in his body at having to just watch your back silhouette, he hated that. “And look me in the eyes when I talk to you. Turn around and come over here. Now.”

What was once a pent-up sadness in your being, turned to anger. You took a breath, annoyed, you hated it when he spoke to you like that, demanding orders in a despot manner, without affection and knowing the undertone of the reason for his tone: once again a pathetic scene of jealousy, you were tired of them. And the worst thing was that you hated to listen to him in situations like that; you turned and watched him take off his black leather winter gloves and looked at him closely for the first time in the evening since he had spoken to you harshly. You could tell he was expressionless, his eyes relaxed, his mouth closed… but you knew him so fucking well, and watching him slide his gloves down his long fingers didn’t have the right to look that attractive. You stood half bravely in front of his commanding complexion illuminated by the hallway light. You looked into his eyes, into his dark, piercing gaze, just the way he wanted it.

He moved even closer to you, almost brushing against your face, and began to speak in a false soft, slow speech, as if you had to understand every word he said:

“You’re going to tell me exactly what you talked about with Seo Changbin and what had you so entertained for an hour and a half… and then you’re going to tell me why your bastard ex-boyfriend dared to approach you. I’m listening.”

You analyzed every part of his face, from his soft dark curly hair falling down his forehead, slightly parted, his sharp eyes, his nose tipped with a soft red from the cold weather, and his full pale pink lips. He was so cute, you loved him, but you missed a few hours ago when he was sweet Chan. You wanted to kiss him, to feel his soft cool lips, but he was just a jerk sometimes. So you let out a mocking, incredulous giggle right in front of his face as you backed up a step while rolling your eyes childishly annoyed. Chan wanted to give you a good spanking for your immature response.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe it. Are you listening to yourself? Why would I have to tell you every word I say to anyone whenever I meet someone new, huh?”

Chan was ready to calm down, but your mocking chuckle greatly upset him.

“Why would you keep it from me?”

“Chan… because…” his gaze darkened, you looked him straight in the eyes, he hated you calling him Chan while arguing, he hated you calling him by his name while talking seriously without any affection, “I could have told you properly, we could have talked about this, telling you I met someone new on the way home, being us, but you always have to do the same old shit and come angrily towards m…”

“Watch your language and tone when you’re talking to me,” he interrupted you, domineering, clenching his teeth, almost piercing you with his gaze, leaving you speechless.

You swallowed dryly and looked at him again. You didn’t want to argue. Not tonight or tomorrow. Because his sister was coming to visit you tomorrow afternoon for the month of the holidays and you wanted to have more love than contempt for him now. You barely took the courage to speak up, to communicate and express everything, and if you were upset about it then it would be reflected in your speech… but him. Either you were leaving… or you were still there.

“Why?” you said calmer but still direct and sharp, still as if your body and mind obeyed him automatically, having a lot of impact on you, “Are you the only one who has the right to be angry now?”

He nodded softly, with a calm expression, leaving you like a small bomb about to explode. Why? You hated his level-headed expression, always being right apparently, always having the last word and winning the fight.

Your eyes glistened, stinging and burning with the sensation of hateful tears building up in your eyes and the painful knot stuck in your throat. You wanted to tell him so many things. He was the love of your life but you wanted to tell him to fuck off, to claim to him exactly the same things he was telling you. But you stopped, your heart raced and you took a deep breath. You were in an internal battle… thinking if this was a small fight, a small scene of jealousy, and if you continued you would make the problem bigger…. but it wasn’t the first time it had happened and you had no idea why this particular time it was weighing on you more than the other times. You hated not knowing how to decipher what this was all about.

“I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.”

You just said that, tired, defeated, like someone helpless and abandoned, unwilling to sleep in the same bed with him if you were going to be like this, conflicted, tense, not getting his sweet kisses before bed and snuggling into his body. You’d rather sleep alone than coldly turn your back on him.

You turned, ready to go back upstairs when his hand stopped you by abruptly grabbing your wrist.

“You don’t have to sleep in the guest room when this is also your home and you have your room to sleep in, with me. We just need to talk. I know you and Changbin exchanged numbers, I want you to delete his contact, and block him, now.”

You watched him. You swallowed the lump in your throat and Chan tightened his grip on you.

“What? I won’t do it. Let go of me. I don’t want to see you tonight.”

That hurt. Chan thought you were taking it a little far, dragging it out, as he inwardly recanted after seeing your pretty, sweet face about to break down in tears. He just wanted you to know that you were his and no one else’s, that if another guy wants to be your friend then he must know him first and boy did he know Changbin, quite the playboy, womanizer, party boy, Chan was shocked that you got along with a guy like him. Chan just wanted to teach you a lesson tonight. But you had other ideas. You were including the emotional, he felt bad, but he couldn’t stop himself, if he was going to hurt you a little to let you know very well how much he loves you and cares about you, then he would make the sacrifice.

“Why do I have to do it, huh? Why always me? I never tell you anything when all those little doll idols would touch your arm and lean their skinny bodies towards you calling you their oppa or all that shit with their irritating voices while inviting you to their apartments right in front of me and expressing how muuuuuch they want to work with you again. You’re a fucking asshole” you snapped.

Chan released you and looked at you sternly for a few seconds. You frowned and looked at him with confusion as it seemed he was about to say or do something else and you felt a hint of curiosity to know what it was, but he just broke into a loud and mocking chuckle, changing his face to serious completely, narrowing his eyes and showing his teeth.

You were completely confused now. What had been so funny? Now you were annoyed to hear his mocking laughter. It was as if Chan was waiting for you to explode. His body relaxed and so did his mind, thinking you looked adorable when you were angry. When he finished laughing and only a smile remained on his face, you could notice the glow and tenderness in his gaze at the sight of you. You scoffed in disbelief, thinking he was a fucking lunatic, switching from one emotion to another.

Once again, you were about to walk away and leave him there, you were confused and slightly annoyed, but he stopped you again, taking a step towards you and putting his hands on your waist.

“Aw my love, did you always mean that? Complain about the other girls?” he spoke, cocky, and leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Why didn’t you ever say anything, huh? Why… you’ve never claimed what’s yours…”

You shuddered. Because I’m not crazy and I don't distrust you. You thought but didn’t say it. His grip became harder and he pressed his body against yours, making you nervous in seconds, his hair was still soft despite the cold weather he was exposed to for a few moments, he still had his manly cologne and his body was warm, you adored being close to him. You didn’t respond, you stood transfixed in your place, uneasy but comfortable with his closeness. You wanted to know what he would say next… Chan whispered in your ear again, sultry voice, his cheek brushing against your skin.

“Because… I’m about to do so, claim what’s mine. Someone tonight spent the night showing you off, standing next to you… someone who wasn’t me and you? You stood by his side like a fucking obedient whore. Oh… you don’t know how fucking pissed off you’ve made me. Being such a bad girl for daddy.”

You were building your arousal slowly at every word that came out of his mouth, as if it was the most erotic and filthy thing, because Chan got you too worked up, his domineering build clinging to you and his rough voice whispering in your ear sent shivers down your spine. Until you heard that word, that word he likes to refer to himself in and he likes you to call him that from time to time during sex and you understood it all. All this time he wanted to play that. You thought that if he wanted to fuck, he should have told you from the beginning and he could have spared you all the drama and the series of disastrous emotions he put you through. You wanted to tell him to fuck off once again… but your heart was beating fast now for other intentions as you quickly thought of the beautiful, pleasurable sex your boyfriend gives you and that you adore so much… plus the possibility of a good fuck with some hateful, angry, after your little argument, shit, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Bad girls deserve their lesson. Come on, I’m going to give you your punishment in front of the Christmas tree so you can see the pretty lights while daddy teaches you how to be a good little girl again.”

Chan picked you up before you could respond or react, taking you by surprise.

“Cha-chan” you protested vaguely.

He led you into the main living room, just as he said, where you both decorated happily and sweetly days ago, putting the Christmas tree and the stockings with your initials hanging on the fireplace.

Chan left his gloves on the little table and took your bag on your shoulder to leave it there too.

“What did you just call me?” he said, serious as he pulled you down from his arms, raising his eyebrows as he looked at you testing you as if you had said something wrong and he was waiting for you to correct yourself.

You looked him in the eyes, he was getting more and more dauntingly close to you, you didn’t want to say it, it was so unnecessary… and so hot, Chan was particularly hotter when he got into that mode, so dominant as if something about it possessed him.

You opened your mouth, looking at him submissively. He thought you were about to give in and listen to him; however, you only provoked him more for fun.

“Chan.”

You noticed his eyes widen slightly, annoyed, surprised, you almost smiled, the corner of your lips quivering at the complicit and huge smile you want to put on your face, you know how very angry it makes him that you behave somewhat spoiled, but you know deep down how much he loves to correct you, how much he loves his dirty little game where you get uneasy and are hopeless until he fucks you dumb. You know exactly what was waiting for you and you were uncontrollably aroused under your calm demeanor and naughty look; your pussy was throbbing and tingling, you could feel the wetness in your folds, and the most pathetic thing was that you had provoked it on yourself… by thinking and thinking, by remembering exactly the precise measure of your boyfriend’s big cock tight and choking in your cunt. It was pathetic because Chan had done absolutely nothing but gently tease you with his words, calling you a bad girl and calling himself daddy. The good thing was that you were good at pretending, but as soon as he dared to undress you, to really touch you, he would find out how very wet you were for absolutely nothing. Just for being him, wearing his suit, and looking at you like helpless prey.

“You’re going to keep behaving like this, huh? Are you gonna be a difficult slut?” he mumbled, finally putting his hands on you, stealing your breath, “You really want to disobey Daddy and get your punishment, don’t you? I won’t be gentle at all, baby girl.”

You stood still, but excitedly restless, almost letting out a shuddering sigh as you felt his big hands on you. You were ready for him to touch you, to let you do with your body whatever he wanted, you needed him, you wanted him, and you were giving in completely. You watched him, your eyes shining straight up at him submissively, asking for action, passion, and sex, hungry for lust in the only great way that only Chan can achieve in you.

You half opened your mouth, softly sighing, it was getting harder and harder for you to breathe, your heart was pounding and your sensitive pussy wouldn’t leave you alone, everything was happening sizzling in slow motion; his heavy gaze on you and his slightly icy hands on your waist. Again, you wanted to kiss him.

But suddenly everything happened so fast, leaving you surprised and unable to react almost. Chan seemed to be acting slow, watching you with desire and teasing you with his closeness that he knew how much it drove you crazy… but suddenly, he nimbly slipped his hands under your dress, caressing your thighs briefly until he tugged at your safety shorts and panties, making you sigh and leaving you with the strange sensation of your pussy exposed, your warm folds and pussy lips abandoning the comfort of the fabric of your panties. Chan left your garments by your knees, looking almost humiliated the way they were merely there, your underwear stuck on your thighs. He smiled arrogantly, getting a small glimpse of the fabric of your wet panties. You watched his hands make the sudden movement, you were surprised to see his noticeably large bulge in his pants and then you saw him, confused and surprised, but excited, your clit throbbing as you discovered he was already getting hard too, just at the thought of the sexual act that awaited you and the tension that was building up.

“Are you going to undress yourself or shall I? Huh?” he tilted his face towards you, waiting for an answer, toying with you, “Are you going to cooperate with daddy? Because if I take it off, I’m going to rip that whole tiny red dress you’re wearing, you fucking whore.”

His words were harsh. You didn’t answer and just watched him with your heavy breathing. You were speechless, you were so aroused that if you started talking you would moan and begin to stutter, you didn’t want to look this helpless in front of him, at least not now. But deep down… you wanted him to be the one to take absolute control.

“You’re not going to answer? Are you going to remain like this? Fine” he sentenced somewhat annoyed.

He reached down on his knees to slide your shorts and panties off your legs, stood up again, and in quick, sharp movements he tried to remove your dress and finally got rid of your bra. You let him do it and in a few seconds you were completely naked in front of him, with your hardened nipples resenting a little change of weather, even so, it did not compare with the intense fire you had inside, you wanted to be touched and satisfied, you wanted pleasure in any way provided by your boyfriend.

Chan watched you for a few seconds, your frail body exposed and naked for him made to carry that bubbling sensation move through his crotch on his pumping erect rigid cock. He licked his lips, memorizing every part of your body, your coy movements as you pressed your legs together, which he knew was a habit of yours because you were so adorable and incredibly turned on that it was hard for you to control your very cute and needy pussy, he memorized how you bit your lip nervously and the shimmer in the eye shadow, your makeup intact, just before he’s about to ruin it, making you gasp and whimper.

He roughly grabbed your wrist, squeezing it tightly, forcing you to walk and taking you a few steps to the front of the couch. He stood in front of you, and for the first time that night, he gently touched your face in his hands, but then squeezed your cheeks as if he was enforcing authority by making you look at him.

“You’ve been a very very bad girl and you know the consequences for that” he whispered, released your face, sat down on the couch and ordered you roughly. “In four, now. Hands and knees on the floor and from now on I want you to respond to everything I tell you, understand?”

Chan ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip, getting no response, he bent his body and reached up to your ass, quickly and unexpectedly giving it a hard spank, repeating, “I said, did you understand?”

His hand burned into your soft, unprepared skin, which finally, you fulfilled his fantasy, and yours, leaving your pride and games aside, as you responded between in a surprised gasp and needy tone:

“Yes, Daddy.”

That was music to Chan’s ears, a delight to all his senses, your adored voice, the one he loved so much, as sweet as honey and soft as velvet, submissively saying exactly what he wants to hear, your little mouth struggling against the obscenities by which you will be subjected... but nothing will compare to the sound of your skin breaking and your whimpering, combining with the squirt of her soaking wet pussy being used by him as he wished.

He leaned back against the coach quietly and you looked at him, his erection was bigger in his pants and all you could think about was how much you wanted to ride his cock, at your pace, lovingly, but you listened to him as you knew you were in for something else, you still would enjoyed it.

Your hands and knees on the floor. Your eyes to the Christmas tree—just as he said, and your body submissive and exposed for Chan. He bent down again, you almost recoiled at the sound of his body on the couch, moving closer to you. Chan caressed your exposed ass and ran his fingers gently across your pussy making you moan softly, you were again restless and aroused.

“My baby doll, you have a beautiful ass, too bad I’m going to leave it bruised.”

That said, you closed your eyes tightly and let out a groan of shock, almost like hiccups. Your first spanking. Hard, burning and rough. Chan continued mercilessly, keeping his word, hit after hit, echoing in the room your skin abused by his heavy hand. You arched your back, curled your toes and your hands clutched the floor as you whimpered and bit your lip in desperation seeking release, but you couldn’t help it, it was so dirty and painful but you loved it, you loved the sound of your ass being pounded and of the impact of his hand leaving your buttocks in searing pain.

“I want you to think about how bad you’ve been, little girl. About what you did that Daddy has to give you this punishment.”

“Yes, Daddy” you replied in a gasp.

You had done nothing wrong, but at this point you couldn’t reveal yourself or turn back time, you were surrendered and immersed in his lustful method of pleasure.

Your makeup began to smear, your eyes watered and just as you were painfully tired, he paused for a moment, finally turning his attention to your throbbing, wet sex. Chris’s cock twitched at the sensation of your pussy coating his fingers. He continued to caress your burning, red ass with one hand while teasing your entrance with the other, making a comment for it:

“Are you liking it, you fucking slut? Do you enjoy it when daddy puts you in your place and spanks you for your bad behavior? Look at that pretty pussy, god, you’re so soaking wet, making a mess for me.”

Another unexpected pair of spankings and his naughty fingers exploring your intimacy that altered every part of you.

You were obsessed with your boyfriend, both of you were of each other, which is why that detail led you to be in precisely the situation you were in now. You knew to perfection the shape, size and color of his fingers, long, pale with a pinkish undertone, veiny, you could visualize the obscene image of them caressing your soaked pussy, of the fingertips pinching your clit and rubbing wildly between your labia to be wrapped around them and, of his digits abusing your entrance, of getting lost in it leaving a mess every time he pushed them deeper and deeper into you.

He kept spanking you, playing with your entrance, going deeper and deeper into you and using your hole carelessly as if it were a toy. Once again he kept his word when he said he would not be gentle. You were a mess, you didn’t know what to concentrate on at all, you babbled and squealed daddy every time your ass hurt and you felt yourself dripping more and more on his fingers.

You were close, so close to reaching your orgasm that your entire lower body burned in sharp, intense pain, Chan gathered, from the irregularity and change of tone in your whimpers and your sweet, soft pussy muscles throbbing and tightening from an immediate release of your peak of sexual desire.

“Are you about to cum, princess? My baby girl wants to reach her orgasm?” he spoke with a certain teasing tone in his sentences.

You nodded, desperate. Tousling your hair, letting it fall over your face, humiliated and incredibly aroused, whimpering in pleasure and pain, losing all your pride as you clung to the cold floor as you responded:

“Yes-yes-yes-y, Daddy, I’m going to cum.”

He blurted out a chuckle, “Really? You’re going to cum while I pound your ass and treat your little pussy roughly? You like being treated like this?”

You whimpered, letting out a squeal as you received your last and most painful spanking, as Chan increased the speed of his fingers in your pussy, the obscene and humiliating sound of your fluids colliding with his digits being heard.

“Yes, Daddy, I-”

“You’re fucked up, baby girl” he mumbled, almost satisfied.

Satisfied to see your ass ruined and red and you still managed to squirm in pleasure.

But Chan stopped, right at the hottest and most exact moment, leaving you mad and in pieces.

“No…” you whispered, annoyed, crestfallen holding all the frustration and strength in your body.

“Well, you don’t deserve such a thing” he added, slapping your exposed vulva twice to which you squealed in surprise, “You don’t deserve to cum, not even if you beg for it you fucking whore. You’ll cum until I say so.”

Chan sighed audibly almost in a groan, getting up from the couch while you remained in the same position, feeling the real pain and burning in your buttocks now that Chan had removed his hands from there. It hurt so much, the tingling from the impact ran through your body that you even wanted to cry again, the worst thing was that even with that pain you couldn’t calm your intense desire to have him.

The next thing you heard was the sound of his clothes tugging, Chan taking off his suit jacket, he unbuttoned the first few of his shirt and the sound of a zipper pulling down and soft fabric falling gracefully rubbing something. You knew right away.

“Come here. I’ll let you get Daddy’s cock ready before I tear your fucking little cunt apart.”

You couldn’t move, your body hurt so much, still, with your own strength, you stood up, your ass red, your makeup smeared and your eyes teary. As soon as you turned around, he came back or to say:

“Get on your knees. You’re going to suck Daddy’s cock” you watched him, from his eyes, going down to meet his pressed cock in his boxers, in a bulge, hard and large. “I didn’t hear your answer.”

“Yes, Daddy!”

You almost responded immediately, almost shivering as if you were freezing to death but it was just the nature of your nervous and highly aroused body and mind, devoted and surrendered to him, making you get on your knees submissively in front of him, raising your gaze, your pain was hard to avoid, but so was your unsettling pleasure. Your hands were indecisive and restless, about to touch his stiff exposed erection that looked so tempting to your sore eyes. Chan was caressing his cock, so pumping, red, and stimulated, dripping in the pretty pink tip of his precum.

“Ah, ah, don't touch until I say so,” he warned you, his voice coming from deep inside him, sounding thicker, you knew he was extremely aroused at this point. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

You obeyed him and he, so lost in pleasure took a step towards you, seeing you from above with every noticeable vein in his body exposed to view, his vein in his neck, from his big hands, from his cock...

Chan stroked his cock gently, masturbating it a little then put a part of his cock and glans on your warm tongue, rubbing himself on you.

“Ff-fuck, oh yeah, taste that fucking precum, baby” he moaned, watching you with pleasure, smiling slightly then closing his eyes and gently throwing his head back for a moment.

That had caused more pleasure in you than his fingers and spanking had caused in you before, you loved blowing Chan because you could hear him moaning and your mouth was busy with his big cock in it, it felt so good that just the feel of his soft glans on your tongue and his thick white droplets, you were again a sea of bliss on your bottom, shivering in despair.

“Now I want you to lick it, lick my cock up and down, just like that, yes-yes, use your hands, baby girl.”

You were so happy to hear such quiet commands as licking his cock and you enjoyed every second, you felt it first, your hand cupping a fist to stroke it better, every part of his texture and every single detailed feature, just for you.

“Ff-fuck.”

Chan was close, he had resisted orgasm hard giving his best effort, but the submissive sight of his little girl on her knees for him running her tongue over his big, stiff cock like it was candy didn’t help matters.

You licked his entire length, just as he gently commanded you, reveling in his pumping sex on your tongue and lips, wishing for a moment that he was naked too so you could see his wonderful figure at that angle you were.

“Put it in your mouth” he whined and you quickly did it, “oh yeah, bobbing your head all over daddy’s cock, just like that, mmm. Good girl.”

You put his cock in your mouth, wrapping it around your lips and finally feeling his throbbing sex inside your cavity. It felt so good to have him like this, pleasuring him as he moaned and bit his lip. You wanted to touch yourself as your pussy had a life of its own down there, so throbbing, dripping, and needy, but you knew that touching yourself would lead to no good if Chan found you out. He stroked your hair as you held his cock with your right hand while with your left, awkwardly and nervously you gently caressed his clean, smooth pubic area, his balls from time to time, and his pronounced pelvis rising towards his exercised abdomen.

You let yourself get a little carried away from the feel and taste of Chan that without thinking you slowly wanted his cock a little down your throat, you wanted the feel of his thick member fucking every part of you, but Chan delicately tightened his grip on your hair, pulling it back to pull his cock out of your mouth, leaving his member bouncing gently in the air and brushing against your lips, his erection wet and stimulated and you dripping in your saliva and his precum, confused, looking into his eyes.

However, the next thing you felt you didn’t expect it at all, his large hand slapping moderately hard on your cheek leaving it red and sore.

“I never said to use your throat, huh. Did you want daddy’s cock so bad? Stand up, you’re going to get it now.”

You were still in shock from the slap, but you obeyed as you understood that it would finally happen. Chan grabbed you roughly by your forearm, putting you on your back to him, he forced you to bend over, as you clumsily held onto the couch, as he had put his body behind you. Chan began rubbing his glans on your wet, swollen, juicy vulva, pleasuring himself on your labia before shallowly positioning the head of his cock at your entrance.

You wanted to scream for him to do it, you wanted him to fuck you from the first instant your panties began to get wet for him.

“There will be no safe word, I am going to fuck you hard to remind you that you are mine and you are going to take Daddy’s cock whole like the slut you behaved like tonight, got it?”

You were about to answer, but a squeal came out of you as you felt his pumping deep throbbing penetration piercing your insides. You whimpered between pleasure and pain, Chan was opening your entrance, and inside, your pussy always struggling to accommodate his well-endowed penis.

He began to fuck you while holding on to your hips and touching your very sensitive ass from time to time, he caressed your whole body, your back, and your tits while keeping a deep, fast, and tearing rhythm that left you breathless. You started to see blurred, you were lost, with your pussy choking his cock, about to cum again when he came out of you; he took your body with ease and held you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist. Chan wanted to see your tired, frustrated face as you struggled with his big cock in your pussy.

He smiled at the sight of you, your cheeks red and a little of his precum at the corner of your lips, your eyes bright and your whole face begging for sex. He re-entered you, holding your body from your ass which you whimpered at your sensitivity. Chan controlled your body, dropping your body so that his cock slid into you, making you both whimper, he was big, he didn’t fit all the way in, and his cock squeezed at your entrance and pushed your cervix every time he did that.

He continued to control your body, causing you to be a mess in search of your ultimate release in an orgasm.

“Tell me that you’re mine” he started to babble.

The idea of just owning and having you quickly went to his head, of being him and only him the only one who has you screaming with pleasure, the only one who loves you and knows how you like it. Chan always fucks you sweet and slow, gentle, just because his cock is big at your entrance, but sometimes he does it hard when you ask him to, but now he was destroying you beautifully, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I’m yours, daddy, fuck-”you were speaking haltingly and breathlessly.

“Daddy, please” you whimpered, his cock was being too much for you.

“Daddy, please” he mimicked you mockingly making a high-pitched tone of voice with a smug smile, “Please what, don’t you like how all your little pussy is being taken by daddy?”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes.

You finally felt it, your orgasm, so close and there was something you always wanted.

“Can I kiss you, Daddy?”

He smiled, “Do it, baby girl” he replied breathlessly.

You began to squirt his cock and part of his thighs and the rest fell to the floor, finally, you felt his lips and cautiously unbuttoned his shirt to feel and appreciate his exercised chest.

“Daddy, can I cum?”

“Fuck, baby girl, yes do it.”

You whimpered again, louder, hugged him, brushing your breasts on his pecs, feeling his soft hair and the scent of his perfume on his neck and you cum shuddered, wanting to release every muscle in your body, leaving you trembling and pleasurably agonized.

Chan enjoyed the disaster of your orgasm, sliding his cock inside you for a few more seconds until he hit your cervix with the spurt of his hot cum.

“Mmm” was all you could say as you caught your breath and felt his orgasm fill you completely still leaning on his shoulder near his neck.

Chan left you there, your body wracked and well satisfied, clinging to him.

He stroked your hair and whispered a sweet “I love you. Do you want to see the snow outside, princess?”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱

꒰ 𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @cherricola-star @lolareadsimagines @ayyonoona @do-you-remember-summer-127 @wildtokay @korthbum @hyune-ssne @oddracha ꒱

[eupheme]

— the season for second third fourth chances

[part v of sugar, sugar] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 4.5k

tags: holiday fluff, reader references/celebrates christmas, misunderstandings, light angst, references to canon-typical anxiety, violence, wade's cancer diagnosis, and death, references plot events in DP 1 & 2, sexual innuendos/implied smut, feelings

With the holidays on the horizon, your afternoons are filled with preparations for Wade’s annual holiday party. With baking and cookie decorating, finishing up wrapping presents - and maybe even a little Christmas miracle, when you find yourself running into a familiar face.

"What?"

It slips from you, as your eyebrows shoot up - glancing down at the piece of cardstock. Before you're adding -

"Why?"

Wade huffs, his finger tapping against the text that loops across the top.

"Don't give me that, Sugar. I spent ages picking out the right font, I know the contrast is enough for you to read it clearly."

And he's right. You can definitely read it, even without the coarse coat of glitter making the headline sparkle.

‘Spread Some Christmas Cheer’

The letters arching above a photo of Wade. His suit on, of course, as he lounges across the lap of what appears to be a mall Santa. Dread in the man’s once-twinkling blue eyes, as one of Wade’s legs drapes across the velvet red suit, the other kicked high against the back of the padded red chair.

‘With Wade Wilson's Winter Wonderland’ in script beneath - with dates and time for his party listed below.

"I can definitely read it," You acknowledge, "I was just asking what, as in what made you take this, and maybe even where, because-"

"Oh," He chuckles, "Yeah, I'm absolutely banned from JCPenney, but worth it, right? This is my best-looking card yet."

You can't help the smile, "It's definitely something."

He grins, "So, you'll come? I heard there might be a certain someone there."

"Is that right?" Your tongue pokes against your cheek.

"Mhmm. Pretty sure he sees you when you're sleeping. Definitely know if you've been naughty or nice, and I know for a fact I've seen you in his lap-"

There's a sound of disgust, as your nose wrinkles, "Okay, can you not talk about Logan that way? I don't need a Santa comparison in my head."

"Just thought I'd spice some things up for you. It's nothing to be ashamed of, we've all had a crush on the big man."

"On who?" There's a rough voice behind you - Logan hand fisted around the fleece jacket tugged from the back of the armchair.

"He knows what I'm talking about," Wade points, "I'm just saying, if Santa needs help handling that sack of his, I'm so fucking down."

"Jesus fucking Christ." An arm curls around you, as Logan glances at the invite, "Wait, this is this weekend?"

"Yes, this weekend," Wade sniffs, "We talked about it yesterday."

"Wasn't home yesterday." Logan's eyebrow cocks, "Or the day before."

"Well, I talked about it with somebody." Wade shrugs - another tapped finger at the bottom of the card, "Anyways, blah, blah, blah. It’s all here, proper name, place name, backstory stuff... just be there, because I know where you live-"

"We'll be there." You interrupt, biting back your smile, "Want me to bring anything?"

Wade's look turns pleased, and then thoughtful, "Well, I was going to get some cookies from Yeastie Boys Bakery..."

The words trailing off, as you groan - already so over the new bakery in town, their stupid jingle and 'viral' cupcakes that taste like shit.

"Don't even talk to me about them."

You can feel the way Logan's hands brace on your shoulder. The low, "he's kidding sweetheart-" rumbled in your ear.

"Guilty." Wade's hands spread wide, "Was just trying to rile you up into offering some of your own splendid wares. Al still talks about the ones you brought over last year. If it’s not too much work…"

The sentence trails off, as he bats his brown, pleading, puppy-dog eyes at you.

"Lead with that next time, asshole." Logan sighs.

"It's not." You answer automatically, though you're already mentally running through your schedule.

The presents you still have to wrap. The loose ends of Wade's gift that you still have to weave in. Another trip to the grocery store, for certain - you'll have to bake at home, since it's a favor.

There's a kiss pressed to your temple, as Logan moves around you.

"I know that look. Don't push too hard, honey." He finishes shrugging on his jacket, "I’ll see if Laura and I can help you out tomorrow."

Wade's voice chiming in, “And let it be known I am formally offering to help, but-”

You huff, “Thank you, but you’re still banned from my kitchen, Wade.”

Still not over the surprise of your gingerbread appearing with piped anatomically correct additions, after you had left him unsupervised last year.

The kiss goodbye you share with Logan lingers, a grateful press of your mouth against his. Wondering what you did to deserve such a man, still ready to pinch yourself every day.

A look in his eyes that matches yours, as he steps around Wade, who still lingers.

"Thanks, Sugar." He grins, "And remember - you better be good for goodness sake-"

You groan, as you shove him out the door. Logan's fingers curling around the collar of Wade’s jacket, the other tugging at the handle.

Unable to help adding your usual farewell, “Be careful out there, okay? Come back safe.”

Not that they need it, not with their powers. But it still feels like a charm, tucked carefully into their pockets as they head out together again - off on a new mission.

"I’ll take care of your Sugar Bear.” It's sung out, muffled behind the closed door. “Love you byeee!"

A sigh, as you shake your head.

Guess you have some work to do.

Your pen marks another item off your list, as you inch your cart through the too-busy grocery store.

It’s already half-filled with other last-minute items. Another couple gifts, now that official date of the party looms on the horizon - you can’t leave Peter, Ellie, and Yukio out, after all.

A new decorative Christmas plate for the cookies - you had lost yours in the impromptu disc golf match that Wade hosted at the apartment last year.

Last you heard, it was still on the roof next door.

Molasses, brown sugar, and spices for gingerbread. A fresh box of food coloring, for the sugar cookies - you were out of red, from last year as well.

A pack of powdered sugar drops down into your cart. Reaching for a second, just as another hand bumps against yours.

Twin apologies chime, as your eyes flick to the side.

Instantly recognizing the woman next to you - the sheepish look on your face cooling.

“Oh.” Her eyes widen in recognition, “Hey.”

“Hi, Vanessa.” You offer a half-smile - the last dregs of your annoyance with Wade vanishing, as you rest the second bag on top of the other.

A beat, before you manage, “How are you?”

“Good. Office party,” She wiggles her own bag, before it slips into the basket at her elbow, “You?”

“Um, I’m good, too.” You shrug, “And no, uh… friend’s party.”

Wade seemed mostly over the disaster that happened close to two months ago. More prone to forgiving and forgetting - gracious, in a way that you could be, when you wanted. That you were, most of the time.

After all, it was easier, to let something slide off your back when it came to a personal grudge. You could be an adult and move on, then.

But it was still hard to forget how crushed Wade had been. How you knew that she knew he had been cooking for her the night she stood him up- a drunken confession that he had seen the notification that she had watched the stories he had snapped for his social media stories.

And even if he was over it, you weren’t sure you were.

“Wade’s party?” She guesses, and it makes you blink.

Wondering when and how she had been invited. As far as you knew, her name hadn’t passed his lips in weeks.

“Yeah.” Your eyes search hers - the tightness in them, how she bites the inside of her cheek, “Are… you?”

“Undecided,” Her lips lift. A breath, before she’s asking, “How’s he been lately? Is he…”

You can’t help the small frown, a mark deepening between your brows, “He’s good.”

A half-truth, before you tack a little more on, “Sure he’s appreciating the extra space. Fixed Al up with a Murphy bed, and Logan’s been staying with me a lot lately.”

“Oh. I thought-” Vanessa’s sentence trails off.

She looks lost for a moment. A glance downward, picking at the manicured edge of a nail.

You haven’t seen her like this before. Too used to her confidence, those sharp edges that you lack.

Pity flickers through you.

“I really have to go. If I don’t start these soon, I’ll be up all night.”

It comes out apologetic - and you realize, you actually mean it, “But why don’t you swing by my apartment in a bit? I’m gonna be baking all afternoon, but I make a mean boozy hot chocolate.”

The look she gives you is tinged with relief.

It’s enough to make you wonder what you’re missing.

“Wait, what?” You yelp - for the second time, in forty-eight hours.

There’s a smudge of flour on your sweater. Holiday music pouring through the speaker on your counter. Vanessa carefully inching the gingerbread cutouts an inch apart.

A shoulder lifting, as she repeats herself, “I said I thought he moved on. With you.”

Not knowing, with the way she had come late to the party where you had met Logan. Left early, with her new corporate schedule.

You almost over-pour the ground cinnamon into the second batch. Tipping it back into the jar, as you let the spoon clatter against the counter. Her head tilts, at your expression.

“You haven’t thought about it? I know you’re both close.”

In another world, perhaps.

Another life - one where you hadn’t met Logan when you did. Hadn’t spent months cheering Wade on, those once barely-there flickers of interest fading to something solidly platonic some time ago.

Your head shakes, the words coming slowly, “It’s always been you, Vanessa. Everyone knows that.”

The corner of her lips lift. Fingernails tapping against the aluminum pan.

“I thought so, too.”

You frown, “Is that why didn’t you show? When he asked you over for dinner?”

Vanessa laughs then, rueful.

“The dinner.” Her eyes flick away, going back to a memory - a beat, before the snap to yours, “Yeah. I wanted to go. I uh, just split with Dermot. From work.”

You nod, remembering - overhearing the conversation at Wade’s birthday.

“He wanted me to move in. Said he saw a future with me, but when it came down to taking that step…” Her lips press together, the lift of a shoulder, “I’ve never seen myself with anyone else. Only him.”

Only Wade.

“But… then I saw you with him. The stories he posted. The two of you cooking, dressed up like a date.” It comes in a rush, “I thought, incorrectly, apparently-”

“He was cooking for you.” There’s a furrow in your brow, trying to piece together the way she saw it.

The sundress you wore for Logan. The captions that tipped towards lewd that you had tried to get him to delete - jokes about “getting lucky”, or the chicken not the only thing “being stuffed tonight”.

She nods, “I’m getting that now.”

“I think you still should have gone.” It’s starting to make sense, but you can’t help the reproach in your tone, ”He was devastated.”

The look she shoots you is defensive. Vanessa had always carried an intensity you lacked, and you take the full brunt of it now. Your fingers curl into fists for strength, not letting your gaze drop first. A beat, before she nods.

“I guess it’s just become easier to run.” Vanessa admits, “Defense mechanism. Get out first. Ironic, I know.”

You frown, not knowing, “Has that… has that happened before?”

“Which time?” Her laugh is close to a scoff, as she sighs.

Your eyes drop now, as you go back to your work. Back to measuring, tipping the spices into your mixer. The words coming slowly.

”He hasn’t told me a lot. Just a bit about last time. About…” You search for the words, feeling guilty. “About him not doing enough. That you wanted him to do something meaningful, and then the stuff with the Avengers, and…”

The words die, when you see her face.

Sorrow and anger, with the sharp shake of her head, “I never gave a damn about the Avengers. That was all Wade.”

A sigh, as she collects herself.

“I just wanted him to find his passion again. He changed… a few years ago. Something happened, a really close call. He fixed it, but he wasn’t the same after.”

A breath, before she adding, “He took it hard. Guilt, I think. All I really wanted was for him to talk to me. To let me help him, but he never let me in because he didn’t want me getting hurt again. He shut down, and stopped talking to me.”

The mixer hums. A beep of your timer, as the minutes tick down.

“You know Wade. Always has a joke ready. Never wants to get serious if he can help it. It’s stupid, but we... drifted.” Vanessa’s throat bobs as she swallows, “I was dealing with my own shit, and when he pushed me away, it reminded me of last time.”

She catches your expression again, as the dough tips out of the bowl. The furrow of your brow, as you swap it for a chilled portion in your fridge.

“It’s been a recurring theme,” It comes out blunt.

Her look turning considering, then, when the frown doesn't waver.

“Do you love Logan?”

The rolling pin slips in your grip. Pressing too hard, denting dough.

“I-,” You breathe. The question unexpected, leaving you wholly unprepared, even as your heart beats out the answer.

Her expression softens, “You care about him.”

You nod mutely.

“What would you do, if Logan just - disappeared? No trace of him, just gone in the night?”

Her question hangs. A physical ache in your chest at the mere thought, one that leaves you unable to breathe. Pieces starting to click together - little bits of what you know, forming some sort of photo.

“Is that what Wade did?”

She nods, “It was right after his cancer diagnosis. He was going through a lot, and just - left. For years. I thought… I thought he had died. I mourned him. It crushed me.”

You can’t help but reach across the table - hesitant, in the way you squeeze her arm.

She lets you, a look shot your way. Defending him, unable to help it.

“I get it, though. I get that it was a lot. I’ve forgiven him. But…” Her teeth pinch at her cheek, that guilt coming back, “When he started pulling away, I thought it was happening again. I couldn’t live through that again.”

You finish for her, “So you left first.”

She nods.

Silence lingers. Nails tapping on the countertop, fiddling with the silver rings on her fingers. The heat of the oven curling across your arms, as you swap one tray for another. Setting it aside to cool.

“You should go talk to him.” Your voice cracks through the quiet, when you turn - hands bracing against the counter.

Her eyebrows raise, “And say what?”

”Tell him what you told me. That you were just scared.” Your voice softens, “He invited you to his party because he still *wants* you in his life.”

She blinks, silent.

“I’ll help you,” You coax, “Logan’s already coming over tonight.”

Your eyes flick down to your phone, checking, ”Uh, really soon, actually. I’ll go next door with you, and bring Althea back with me. Give you two some time to catch up.”

Vanessa’s fingers cards through her hair - pushing back the long strands, the words coming slowly, “I don’t know…”

“Wade is crazy about you.” It comes out bluntly, and it’s this that pulls her attention.

You’re already swiping a container off the counter. Filling the bottom with sugar cookies baked this morning - cut into trees and mittens, decorated with buttercream and sprinkles.

The lid snaps on, as you hold it out to her.

“Trust me?”

Her eyes meet yours, and you can see the swirl of emotions across her face.

You smile and finally - she nods.

She follows a step behind, as you leave the apartment. The hallway chilly, the entrance bringing in a dusting of snow across the carpet, with the revolving holiday traffic.

The closing front door downstairs echoes with your own, as you head the next apartment over. Knuckles rapping against the wood, fingers mentally crossed.

A voice ringing out, muffled, “If you’re part of Rudolph and the Red-Hot Reindeers, you’re a day early-”

Opening to reveal Wade, dressed down in a shirt and sweatpants with his Deadpool logo patterned across them.

“Oh, hey Sugar.” He smiles, “What’s up?”

“Well,” You stall for a second, trying to figure out what exactly to say, “Is Althea home? Was wondering if she could help me with something.”

Wade chuckles.

“Fat fucking chance, she’s two episodes into the Golden Bachelor right now and she’s sure as hell not moving-” The words die out as Vanessa moves into view, the container in hand.

He goes silent, for the first time you can remember.

“I have the same streaming apps as you, I’m sure I can convince her.” Your shift - a hand touching at her shoulder, urging her forward, “And maybe you could do me a favor, too. Taste test these for tomorrow?”

For a moment, you think he doesn’t hear you. His eyes lingering on Vanessa, his face bleeding from surprise to confusion to hope, as he takes her in.

“Yeah.” He manages after a long moment - clearing his throat.

“Yeah. I’d love to.”

It doesn’t take much convincing, not with the way Al enjoys a cup of piping hot tea as much as you do - along with the promise she can watch her beloved show in peace. Almost giddy in the way she makes for the door, cane in hand and Dogpool tucked in the crook of her other arm.

The door just shutting behind you before she’s hissing, “What in God’s name was that?”

You shush her, eyes flicking back towards the apartment. Almost jumping out of your skin when it’s followed by another voice, this one pitched low.

“Seconded. Busy afternoon?”

Logan leans against the wall, Laura expression clear with the pull of her brows. Thirded.

“Something like that.” You herd them inside your apartment, before they can be overheard - not that Wade was listening, you’re sure.

The door is barely shut, before they’re rounding on you. Your own hands on your hips - a nod directing them towards the kitchen table, laden with bare gingerbread cookies.

Al tucked in the armchair, spun around the face the bustle of the kitchen, her show long forgotten.

“You’re stalling.” Laura points out bluntly, as you hand her the bag of icing.

Your tongue tucked against your teeth, as you shoot Logan a look. His eyebrows raised in response, eyes sliding over to the brick wall that separates your apartment from Wade.

“I’m not,” The word strings out, “It’s just, like, it’s not a big deal, right?”

She scoffs.

Althea’s cane taps the ground, “Something happened, and you’d better spill.”

“Alright,” Your fingers spread in front of you, “I ran into Vanessa at the store today. And we got to talking, and I invited her back here. I think she regrets what happened between them.”

There’s a snort of derision, and you can feel yourself starting to bristle.

“We all have our opinions, myself included-” You allow, as another noise interrupts you - lower and more gruff this time. You spin, shooting Logan another look.

“But I think she was genuine. I’ve certainly had my fair share of… miscommunications,” His expressions softens at your words, the corner of his lips curling as you shift to face Al.

“And I got some really good advice once from someone. Something about ‘talking about it’, and that’s what I encouraged her to do.”

“Hope you’re right,” Al sighs- but there’s a smile there, hidden in the way her lips press together, “That boy is more sensitive than my left tit in a snowstorm.”

“Jesus.” It’s muttered, at your shoulder. Logan’s head shaking as he joins Laura, the hint of a smirk as she works on piping a set of angry eyebrows.

Your eyes roll, “I am.”

Spinning back to face the table, as you grab your own bag of frosting.

“After all, it’s Christmas,” You can’t help but throw her way, from over your shoulder.

“And isn’t that the best time for a miracle?”

Logan’s arms wrap around you later, as you snap the last lid in place. Finally done with your last-minute idea - decorating each of the gingerbread to look like your friends.

Laura slipping out a few minutes ago, intent on staying until the end. Just as determined as Logan to see things through, even though you tried to get her to leave a few times - worried about the weather, the long drive back to the mansion.

The slight smile as her eyes rolled - with your affection towards her, you forget how impervious she is.

Althea long asleep in the couch, the quilt Logan’s borrowed so many nights before tucked around her. Ambient holiday music still pouring through the speaker, your attempt to drown out the enthusiastic reunion taking place next door.

Can’t bring yourself to mind. More relieved than anything.

And you deserve it, you suppose.

“You did a good thing.” It’s murmured into your hair, as you finally relax into him.

Arms curling beneath his, wrapping around his broad back to embrace him. You hum with contentment as his lips brush your temple.

“Don’t know if I can manage a miracle,” His lips curve when you lean back, eyes flicking up to meet his, “But if there anything else you might want for Christmas?”

Your teeth sink into your lip, as you grin.

The answer is easy, as your face tips towards his.

“Just want more time with you.”

Logan huffs, as his hand dips down. Cupping soft flesh, kneading - as he tugs you the rest of the way. A grin, just before his mouth presses against yours.

“Mm. Hope you don’t mind celebrating a little early, then.”

Red and green have exploded in the apartment next door - the flamingo lights that spill from the kitchen replaced with blinking bulbs. A tree that you’re truly unsure how it fit through the door, much less the narrow hallway, tucked in the corner.

You and Logan had helped decorate it earlier in the month - Wade directing from the couch, as the two of you and Althea arranged the ornaments. A ninja star zip-tied to the top, but with the lights turned low, and the swirl of snow coming down outside - it’s cozy.

It’s familiar - faces you’ve come to know well, known to love, fill the space. The cookies are a hit, sweet exclamations as they find the ones that represent them. Woolen and knitted sweaters, bodies tucked together on a hodgepodge of surfaces.

And perhaps, you do end up on Logan’s lap. His thighs spread wide in an armchair Wade found on the curb, out of place against the brick walls and industrial windows with its floral pattern.

Your eyes meeting Wade’s from across the living room, anticipating the tease.

But he only smiles back.

Something soft - an arm slung around Vanessa’s shoulder. The ‘white elephant in the room’, as he had cheekily alluded to it, addressed with a carefully placed piece of mistletoe.

Side-eyes and stunned silence easing into smiles, when you all saw the way they looked at each other.

And when he corners you to tell you thank you, you know the bone-crushing hug is not just for the handmade red-and-black beanie and scarf that you had gotten up early to finish for him.

The rest of your gifts don’t quite reach the same level, but you’re pleased all the same. Laura’s smile shy as she tries on the Docs you caught her eyeing, ankle twisting as her eyes dip down.

Logan’s arm tightening around your waist when you hand him the wrapped package. His eyes lingering on yours until the paper is loosened, a pleased hum when he sees the lined leather jacket you picked out for him.

“Your first winter with us in New York,” You smile, “Can’t have you catching cold.”

Something to keep in warm, when he tinkers on the bike stashed in the basement. To protect him, when he’s not in his suit. Better than that the faded fleece he’s lifted from Wade’s closet.

And even though you’d been fairly certain he’d given you your gift last night - and again this morning - there’s still a pretty card tucked into your palm. A piece of paper folded inside, next to sentiments that made heat rise to your cheeks.

A photo printed out - a cozy little cabin, the roof lined with snow. Framed with a thick ring of woods and surrounded by wilderness. The reservation dates and details marked out in the text below.

“A vacation?” You can’t remember the last time you’ve been away. Excitement surging at the thought of spending a week tucked away with your boyfriend, “For us?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” Logan husks, “Found a nice little place up north. Just you and me.”

His fingers flex against your waist, his face tipping up to yours, “Would you like that?”

“I’d love that.” You smile.

You love him.

You’re certain of that - a name for that warm weight in your chest that’s been there for weeks. Since the beginning really, coming to a full flourish with the conversation the day before.

Maybe with the turn of the new year, you’ll pluck up enough courage to tell him.

For now, you beam at him. Pressing yourself close - entwining fingers that squeeze. Hoping he can read the soft look you give him, the words murmured out, in the little bubble you’ve found yourselves in.

“Merry Christmas, Logan.”

His thumb brushes your cheek, before he tugs you down to meet him.

“Merry Christmas, Sugar.”

after part iii, i could not leave our bff wade with a sad ending!!! 💖 for a little bit early on i toyed with the idea of making this series a poly one (before come on and show me) hence a couple little references throughout (and the reason to keep the breakup in the first place) (which I still have beef with in the movie, BUT I did my best). thank you for checking out this series, it might be one of my favorite things I’ve had the pleasure to work on and seeing the love on it has been so amazing 💕

[moonchild701]

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Naughty Santa

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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<

Summary: Elf Helper Reader sits in Mall Santa Touya's lap

Pairing: Pro Hero Dabi/Fem Reader

Content Warning: Smut, Public Sex, Crack, Horrible Christmas puns (you're a menace), Light Spanking(??it's like a single smack), Riding, Exhibition, Almost Caught, Praise Kink, Semi Clothed Sex, Mall Santa Dabi

Word Count: 2k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is the 5th part of 12 fics for a 12 Days of Christmas event. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

Don't be scared to be a lil naughty this year🤭

Prompt: Sitting on Santa's lap

My Masterlist

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Touya was somehow convinced ̶b̶u̶l̶l̶i̶e̶d̶ ̶ into being Santa Claus at the mall this year.

It's for a charity event the agency hosts every year, with the heroes and sidekicks playing Santa and his elves for the hoards of germ-riddled, snot-nosed, whiny brats.

Now normally, with it being his agency, Endeavor himself is supposed to be the one playing Santa again, as he'd done the previous years.

But last year, the flaming trash's temper flared at one point, causing his stupid flame beard to appear, burning away the fake Santa beard and promptly traumatizing most of the kids who witnessed it, which then dropped the agency's ranking.

So this year, needing a new Santa, it was decided that Touya, as his eldest and the next in line to inherit the agency, is to suffer as Santa.

The suit is stuffy and uncomfortable, the beard is a horror on his skin, and the children are loud, obnoxious and annoying, as children usually are.

He wants to go home.

His only saving grace, is you, dressed in that adorable little elf costume that has no business looking that sexy.

A little red and green dress that he's pretty sure is a size too small as it just barely covers your ass, stopping at mid thigh, with thigh high, red and white striped stockings leaving a thin sliver of skin, green and white shoes and hat, and fake elf ears.

That outfit can't be kid friendly.

Looking at the other sidekicks dressed as elves too, in relatively the same thing, he decides it's just him. The others look normal.

At least he has something to look at to keep him sane. 

And that's exactly what he does right now as you greet the first swarm of gremlins into Santa's Wonderland.

Whatever arousal he'd gained watching you was instantly gone at the grating sound of the high octave of children screaming and clapping.

It's gonna be a long day.

*****

"And we're done!” you chirp, bounding over as the last of the kids, a little girl, skips away, waving at everyone. Many sticky, screaming children later, Touya is finally free.

Seeing the drained look on his face, you smile softly at him. “I’m gonna help clean up if you wanna just rest a bit, okay?”

He hums tiredly in response and you press a quick kiss to his cheek before leaving. 

The chair he's been stuck in is soft and he's exhausted, so he just unbuckles the black belt, unzips the front of the Santa jacket and pulls off his white gloves, resting his head on his fist and letting his eyes slip shut. A small nap won't hurt.

*****

He wakes up to a weight on his lap and automatically complains. “I’m done being Santa!” he groans, damn near whining, stubbornly keeping his eyes closed.

“But Santa,” you coo, gliding your hand up his chest, over the white vest he wore under the costume, feeling the lines of hard muscle beneath the fabric. Pulling the fake beard down under his chin, you press a kiss to his lips and murmur against him, “What about what I want for Christmas?” 

Well that certainly got his attention. 

His eyes snap open to look at you, feeling your cheeky smile against his lips. Straddling his lap, hands balanced on his shoulders, you hum happily when he pulls you in closer by your waist and deepens the kiss, biting down softly on your bottom lip. 

You let your lips fall open and Touya slips his tongue into your mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck. He can feel himself grow harder and kisses you deeper, heated hands falling to trail up your thighs, under your dress, to your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh there, before pulling away, leaning back and dropping both of his hands to your thighs to pull you down onto his bulge, groaning.

“Someone's gonna see us, Dolly,” he murmurs, eyes lidded and hot on you.

You pull the beard fully off, throwing it to the side somewhere, and drag him back in by the nape of his neck, muttering against his lips, “Everyone left. There’s only the cleaners at the back of the mall. I checked”

“Hmm, so? What do you want, baby?” he asks amusedly, voice husky and low.

You trail your lips up his jaw to his ear, whispering, “Fuck me, Santa,” your breath tickling his skin. "And keep the hat on."

He breathes out a moaning curse, muttering "Weirdo.", while squeezing your waist and holding you in place as he thrusts his hips up against you, groaning at the friction.

You moan softly at the feeling, and your lips twitch with the need to grin as you get a horrible idea and decide to say it anyway.

"You wanna go up my chimney?" You giggle, laughing even harder at the face he makes. "Gonna empty your sack in me, Santa?"

“Please, not the puns,” he groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 

"Let me jingle your bells?” you whisper, smiling cheekily against his lips. He rolls his eyes, surging in to capture your lips in a kiss to shut you up.

He won't admit outloud how adorable you are right now; sitting pretty in his lap in your little elf costume, muttering horrible Christmas puns in between giggles, but he might as well play along. 

He trails his lips down your neck, pressing kisses to your throat and dragging his tongue up and over your jaw, murmuring, "Mm, you been a good girl this year?", as he grinds up against you.

You shudder, biting your lip to try to stifle a breathy moan, as you automatically tilt your head back to give him more room to your neck. "Mm, no Santa. I've been naughty."

He can't believe he's doing this. The Christmas lights are still lit for fuck's sake, though the mall had turned the main lights out. The music is still playing yet here he is, defiling the Santa chair.

As he peppers your skin in little nips and marks, he hums, murmuring, "Naughty girls don't deserve presents."

You grind down against him, raking your nails down his chest. "I can be a good girl for you, Santa."

Sucking a mark just below your ear, he purrs, "I'll have to punish you if you can't, hm?", as he pulls down the zipper of your dress, before pulling it up and off of you, leaving you in just your underwear, the shorts that kept you modest and the thigh highs.

“Can I get on the nice list if I make Santa feel good?” you ask, batting your lashes up at him while rolling your hips.

Laughing lowly, he rips the shorts off, a little fire aiding the process, nipping at your bottom lip when you giggle, and muttering, "Depends." as he drops the tatters of the shorts to the floor near the dress. "On what?", you ask breathlessly as he unhooks your bra and discards that too. You arch into his hold when he grasps a handful of your tits, kneading the soft flesh.

"On how well you take me." He grins, pinching and playing with your nipple, pulling you back down for another searing kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth at the first gasp.

One hand remains playing with your chest as the other squeezes your ass slightly, then slides in between the both of you to palm his erection before moving and shifting you to sit up on your knees while he pulls his pants halfway down his thighs, freeing his straining erection. 

He thrusts his unclothed cock up against you, making you moan into his mouth and grind down your clothed cunt against him, the soaked panties gliding over him.

You're so wet he could probably just slide right into you.

When he maneuvers you to sit up again, you let out a little whine at the loss of friction that’s cut off by a choked moan when he pulls your panties to the side and eases two thick fingers into you.

"Greedy little elf,” he teases, curling his fingers inside you, feeling how easy you take him, opening up so well for him. 

He thrusts once, twice, scissoring them, then pulls them out, immediately lining up the thick head of his dick to your hole, dragging it through your wet folds.

It's all the warning you get before he pushes in, groaning as he pulls you down onto his fat cock, slowly but all at once bottoming out. 

Throwing your head back, you moan long and low as you dig your nails into the velvet material covering his shoulders.

He runs his hands up your sides, letting you adjust to the stretch, pushing you up and back so you're on display for him, in nothing but your elf hat, thigh highs and panties. He grips your ass, lifting you up before dropping you back down onto his lap, your cunt sucking in his dick. You moan, gripping his Santa jacket to stabilize yourself. 

“Ride me,” is all he says. But you're still shaking, still trying to adjust to the sheer size of him, so when you don’t move, the stinging slap to your ass causes you to yelp. "I said ride. Good girls do what they're told."

“I’m sorry, Santa,” you mumble out, shakily pushing yourself up on your knees. "I'll be good." You drop back down with a whine at the feeling.

“There's a good girl. Just like that,” he moans, keeping one hand on your ass while the other holds you steady by your waist.

He watches you bounce up and down on his lap, your tits bouncing with you.

He watches your head fall back as you moan like a whore as you fuck yourself silly on his cock where anyone can see if they just walk by, the filthy squelching of your sloppy pussy only barely drowned out by your moans, the jingling bells of your elf hat and the Christmas carols playing in the background.

His other hand slides down, grasping your other asscheek and kneads them both, before he spreads you.

With his feet planted on the floor and the firm grip on your ass, he holds you still as he fucks up into you, hard and fast, making your moans echo through the empty mall.

The faster his pace becomes, the louder you get until the sound of someone whistling pierces through the air, making you both freeze.

Fuck.

The security guard.

How horny could you have been to forget about the fucking mall security?!

He slows his thrusts to a deep grind, with small, barely there movements that make you bite your lip to keep from moaning and getting caught by the poor, unsuspecting guard.

Touya brings a hand around your neck, turning your face towards his to capture your lips in a slow, languid kiss that works to both turn you on impossibly more and absorb some of the noises you can’t help but make with Touya stuffing you so well.

You can hear the guard’s footsteps coming closer and for some reason, their proximity only has you getting hotter. He pulls away from the kiss with a grin, nipping at your ear.

“Naughty girl,” he whispers, kneading your ass as he rocks your hips. “I can feel you clenching around me. You want to get caught, don’t you? You want this poor guard to see you being stuffed full, and wish they're the one fucking you, hm?"

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, shaking; his hot breath on your skin where he whispers filth into your ear pushing you that bit closer the edge.

The whistling moves further away, and as hot as the danger of getting caught was, you relax when it passes.

At least until you feel a warm thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing firm circles, as Touya resumes pounding up into you, and that's all it takes.

You go rigid, clenching down on him as a string of whimpered swears leave you as you cum, slick gushing out around and on him, soaking his pants.

And the vice grip of your spasming cunt drags him over the edge with you. “Fuck baby, take Santa’s present.” he moans, cheeky, laughing and breathless, as he cums deep inside you.

Heady and stuffed full, you breathe, "Thank you, Santa."

As you come down from your high, he chuckles, caresses your back, and presses a kiss to your forehead. "You're welcome, baby."

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

[kinley-cafe]

Have you been Naughty? Or have you been Nice this year? 👀

Congratulations, everyone! You didn’t ask for the job but now you’re officially a helper at Buck’s Holiday Café Workshop.

Not to worry! It’s a simple task: Just choose a recipient, and decide if they belong on Buck’s Naughty or Nice list.

Various surprises will be delivered to everyone December 22-25, according to which list you’ve placed their name on.

(Even if you've been naughty, you'll still receive something special~)

Buck and Tommy's lovely and festive delivery outfits were designed by the wonderful and talented...

I hope everyone is excited to see @aainiouu's beautiful work!

The form closes Friday, December 20th! So make your list, check it twice and tell Buck if your friends have been naughty or nice!

Order Now

Thank you @hunnysfwart for the bucktommy artwork for this event poster <3

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Day 27: Wearing nothing but a santa hat

Fandom: Arcane

Character: Vander

Naughty or Nice: naughty

It was now Winter, getting closer and closer to Christmas and you could not have been more excited and you wantex nothing more than to surprise Vander with something special

Wearing nothing but a red Santa hat perched upon your head along with some shimmer across her breasts, you called out for Vander.

Vander entered the bedroom, a surprised chuckle escaping him at the sight of you sitting upon on the bed, your radiant skin glowing in the soft light. The festive red Santa hat atop your locks added a playful touch, drawing his attention to the shimmering decorations on your ample breasts.

"My, aren't you a vision of holiday cheer?" he teased, his eyes roaming appreciatively over your exposed form."Though I must admit, I prefer you without the hat and with more of your skin on display."

Vander approached the bed, as he towered over you as he reached out, trailing a finger along your collarbone before cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

"What's the occasion for this sudden striptease, my naughty minx?"

"I wanted to surprise you.." you looked up at him with a heated gaze."I'm your present."

Vander's eyes widened at your bold declaration, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Oh, you most certainly are, my delectable gift," he rumbled, his voice thick with desire.

Crouching beside you, Vander ran his hands possessively over your bare skin, mapping every curve and valley and with a wicked grin, he leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispered"Allow me to start by tasting these delectable treats..." *Vander's hands descended to your breasts, thumbs circling the hardened nipples as he took one into his mouth, suckling greedily.

A soft cry tore from your lips, your fingers running through his hair tugging at the strands bucking into his touch.

Vander released your nipple with a pop, a string of saliva connecting it to his lips as he gazed up at you with lust-filled eyes. "Mmm, music to my ears, my love," he purred, his breath hot against your breast.

He lavished attention on your other breast, teasing the sensitive peak with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. Meanwhile, his hands roamed your torso, exploring the dips and ridges of body before delving lower, fingers dancing along the juncture of your thighs.

"Spread your legs for me," Vander commanded, his voice husky with need. "Let me feast on your sweet pussy, drink in your essence like the finest holiday wine."

Cheeks growing warm, heart beat rapidly pounding in your chest, you parted your legs for him. "I need you Vander."

Vander's eyes gleamed with triumph as he settled between your thighs, his nose brushing against your slick folds. "Patience, my eager little elf," he chuckled, his breath fanning over your sensitive flesh "We'll get to the main event soon enough. But first, I want to savor every inch of you."

With deliberate slowness, Vander dragged his tongue along your slit, savoring the tangy flavor of your arousal. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you squirm.

"Mmm, you taste divine," he murmured against your skin, hands holding your hips in place, his tongue delved deep into your core. "I could feast on your pussy all night long."

A cry tore from your lips, one hand grasping the sheets below you as the other grasped his hair. Your eyes closing as you chanted Vanders name.

Vander's mouth worked tirelessly over your throbbing clit, his tongue flicking and circling the sensitive bud as he drank in your sweet nectar. The sound of your cries and pleas only spurred him on, driving him to bring you to the brink of ecstasy.

As your hips bucked wildly against his face, Vander slipped a finger inside you, curling it to hit that magic spot within you that always made you see stars. He pumped his digit in time with his oral attentions, determined to unravel you completely.

"That's it, my love... Come undone for me," he coaxed, his voice muffled by your dripping folds."Scream my name as you fall apart on my tongue..."

With a final cry, your hips raising from the bed waves of your orgasm crashed over you.

As your climax hit you, Vander continued to lap at your spasming flesh, prolonging your pleasure. He savored the way your juices flooded his mouth, relishing in the knowledge that he was the cause of such intense bliss.

When her tremors finally subsided, Vander lifted his head, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he gazed up at you. "Exquisite," he praised, licking his lips clean of your essence. "You look absolutely ravished, my darling."

Standing tall, Vander shrugged of his shirt and freed his erection from his pants and with a gleam in his eyes he worked himself for a moment standing between your thighs positioned himself thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging at your entrance

"Now, are you ready to welcome the rest of your Christmas present?"

"Yes." Your voice breathless, hat long gone from your head.

[hyukascampfire]

˓꒰ 𝓣𝑯𝑬 𝓣𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑽𝑬 𝓓𝑨𝒀𝑺 𝓞𝓯 𝓒𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑴𝑨𝑺 ꒱٫

﹙🕯️﹚ hi everybody!! welcome to ashlynn’s 12 days of christmas. i think this will be a super fun way to get into the christmas spirit and explore a bunch of different ways to tell a christmas story! ࣭ ˓ ࣪. ׄ⸝⸝℘

˓ ࣪ ( 📜 ) find a spot by the fireplace! join the event taglist here.

──── 𝓖uidlines

𐔌𝟷. half of the gifts will be requests, which you can send here, and the other half will be gifts wrapped by me! so, 6 requests and 6 of my own. 𐔌𝟸. the requests have got to be christmas/holiday theme! new years is also welcomed. they can be smutty of course, i welcome that with open arms!! 𐔌𝟹. these are going to be more like drabbles. some might definitely end up longer, but i want to release TSFAWC on christmas as the final day! 𐔌𝟺. you can request any member from either txt or ateez!

 ‧𝑜n 𝓉he 𝒻irst 𝒹ay of 𝒸hristmas, 𝓂y 𝓉rue 𝓁ove gave to 𝓂e

𝒜 partridge in a pear tree 𝜗 c.sb

milk with your cookies? ･ anon request

too excited to sleep on christmas night, the last thing you might've expected was to find a very tall, very handsome man with arms full of gifts broken into your home. also, for him to claim himself to be santa claus.

𝒯wo turtle doves 𝜚 c.yj & c.bg

krampusnacht ･ @thetxtdevil & @miukuui

krampus, creatures of european folklore, come one winter’s night every year with exactly one duty: to punish the naughty, who they are said to either eat or drag down to the hell from which they came. assigned to you this year are two of krampus' most revered helpers. they adore their purpose. come december 5th, they make their march through the snow and toward the sweetest treat that they might ever have the opportunity to crack.

𝒯hree french hens 𝜗 h.k

velvet fuzz ･ anon request

it’s strange that you come home to a teary-eyed, pink-nosed man outside your home while coming home on christmas eve. even stranger that he’s got antlers sprouting up from his head.

𝒻our calling birds 𝜚 h.k

the frost remembers ･ @aduh0308

artblock has one weakness: creation. it just so happens that you decide to make your final hurrah, the greatest work of your life, out of winter’s most gentle gift. and, the frost remembers.

𝒻ive golden rings 𝜗 c.sb

gift wrapping ･ @biteyoubiteme

it’s a shame that soobin has to work on christmas eve, but coming home to a fire-toasted home and his little family is enough to make up for it.

𝒮ix geese a-laying 𝜚 k.th

it will come back ･ anon request

it’s a small world. you knew this, but you came to really believe it when you ran into an old classmate at the grocery store on a snowy vacation. how strange is that? even more so when he shows up once more at the door of your cabin, frozen from the cold and needing your help.

𝒮even swans a-swimming 𝜗 c.bg

at swan lake ･ @hmusunoo

as both equals and opposites, white swan and black swan, it is paramount that you and choi beomgyu do not touch. the curse of your natures did not even make exception for incidental brushes. that was never an issue for you—not until the day the prince took it upon himself to break every rule you’d ever known.

ℰight maids a-milking 𝜚 OT5/c.bg

let it snow! ･ @hmusunoo

choi beomgyu and you are best at one thing: getting on yeonjun's nerves. going out for a snowball fight on the first winter snow, he has the perfect plan.

𝒩ine ladies dancing 𝜗 h.k

@hyukaluver

this fic is getting revisited next christmas!

𝒯en lords a-leaping 𝜚 c.yj

@izzyy-stuff

this fic is getting revisited next christmas!

ℰleven pipers piping 𝜗 c.yj

@prince-jjae

this fic is getting revisited next christmas!

𝒯welve drummers drumming 𝜚 k.th

ginger & snap ･ @thetxtdevil

you were the last person taehyun expected to appear on his doorstep. sweet and fluffy and oh-so-proper; he never thought he’d see you again. but... there you stand. and, much to his own chagrin, he fears that nobody else could get him more bothered.

happy holidays, from me! here’s my gift to you all for welcoming me so kindly. (ｰ ｰ;)

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | sex shop

pairing | sex shop owner!andy barber x innocent!reader

warnings | age gap (reader sees andy as a total dilf.) reader is very innocent and also so scared to be there (understandably.) soft!andy, comforting vibes, he talks her through everything. humiliation kink is strong in this one. no real smut, just suggestive themes (sex shop, toys, talks of solo and guided masturbation.)

word count | 987

an | this little story is dedicated to andy's #1 girl, @worksby-d 🥺 dest i super hope you enjoy our favorite dilf here!! i tried to make him the big warm teddy bear we know and love, with a little hint of naughtiness shining through at the end hehe <3 happy holidays to you friend!!

imagine going to a sex shop for the very first time, aalllll by yourself, and meeting a very handsome dilf who helps you pick out your very first big girl toy 😏

parking as far away as possible (it’s at the end of a little strip mall in a tiny little town you’ve never been to before, you wanted to make sure you wouldn’t bump into anyone you knew!) spending like 10 minutes just sitting in your car hyping yourself up, you’re so nervous but you’ve wanted to do this for so long 🥺

eventually you build up your courage and make your way up the parking lot, to the front door of the place. a little silvery bell rings as you enter. you’re surprised at how clean and neat the place is. you weren’t sure what to expect, but this is better than you had been hoping. it’s not too big, a single large room with a counter in the middle. at first glance, you're alone, no other customers or employees in sight

the store has different sections with hanging signs directing you where to go. you can feel heat rising in your cheeks as you pass the racks of lingerie and intimates. just as you make it over to the toys for her section, you hear something from across the little shop. looking over, you see someone has entered through a doorway in the back. a man, but you don’t get too long of a look. your eyes quickly drop to the ground as you feel your embarrassment worsening

please don’t come over here. please don’t come over here. please don’t-

your silent prayers are ignored as footsteps approach. you take a step back from the wall of products, forcing yourself to look up at the stranger. your jaw almost drops at the sight of him, oh god, you’re thinking to yourself, why is he hot 😭

there andy stands in all of his glory, the epitome of dilfy deliciousness with his worn navy t-shirt and scruffy beard. scratching his head a bit awkwardly, he greets you, “hey, sorry. didn’t meant to startle you. can i help you find anything?”

your heart’s pounding in your throat as you look around stupidly before your eyes return to the absolute unit of a man before you. you blink like a deer in the headlights. oh my god. he works here, you’re a little slow to put things together

andy sees your surprise, letting out a gentle chuckle. “i’m the owner,” he explains. “you okay, honey? you look like you’ve seen a ghost”

a part of you knows this is an extremely sketchy situation. you’re alone in a sex shop with a dude probably twice your age (who apparently owns the place), out in a town you can’t remember the name of, with nothing to defend yourself except your two bare hands (which are now shaking)

but there’s something about the man before you that you just find so… warm? disarming? (…attractive? 😳) the gentle smile on his face, the way he softens his voice when he senses your nervousness...

you’re a little ball of conflicting feelings, half nerves and half head-over-heels for this unknown man. again, you blink, unable to find your voice to respond

“you’re alright, just take it easy,” he tries to help you relax. “this your first time in a place like this?” all you can manage is a nod. he gives you an understanding smile, “that’s perfectly fine. i’m here to help. can you tell me what you’re looking for, sweetheart?”

your eyes glance quickly back at the wall of toys in front of you before returning to him. he must see the increasing humiliation on your face. “u-um…” you’re finally able to stutter, “i-i don’t… i’m not… i guess i'm…”

he’s so patient and attentive it’s only making the butterflies in your tummy worse 😭 “not sure where to start?” he finishes for you. when you nod, he hums thoughtfully, “that’s okay, honey. do you have anything already that you like? is this for you to use on your own?"

you grit your teeth, nodding through the waves of embarrassment. “d-don’t have anything, sir. looking for something to start out with”

“i see,” he nods, looking over the selection on the wall before the two of you. “a bullet is a great beginner toy. simple, quiet, different levels of intensity to fit your needs. do you like clitoral stimulation?”

you have to fight yourself to keep from rubbing your thighs together right then and there 😩 something about the way he’s talking you through everything is sooo 🥲🥲 a feeling of dread hits as you realize you’re already getting wet

you force out a nod. he looks at a few options before picking out a small, discreet box. offering it to you, he explains, “this one’s my favorite. it’s nice and smooth, hard to hurt yourself with. rechargeable, medical-grade silicon. six levels of intensity. and the pink matches your nails,” he says sweetly, nodding at the shiny polish on the tips of your fingers

you clumsily accept the box, looking it over briefly. “there are instructions on the inside. the internet can be helpful too,” he suggests. the burning in your tummy worsens as he sees right through you, sniffing your complete innocence and inexperience with ease

“o-okay. this looks good. thank you,” you agree

“of course,” he nods with a sheepish smile. “once you get comfortable with that, we can work you up to something more sophisticated” you never implied that you’d be returning to him, but now that he’s said it, you know you couldn’t refuse. “and if you have any trouble, you can always come see me. i got a room in the back, we can take some time and find what works for you”

i might have to write that follow-up visit someday this is making me 🫠🫠

[sloanesallow]

Mirror, Mirror

Sebastian is glad to be home for the holidays, ready to gift his wife with a wicked fantasy. Written for the November NSFW writing event for the OHL Discord server. The prompt was "The Naughty List"...though I kind of shoehorned in the Christmas theme... Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (Unnamed) Tags: MDNI, NSFW! Sexual content, dirty talk, mirror sex, arranged marriage but they like each other, more Stupid Sexy Sebastian. Technically a continuation of "Tell Me". 1.7k words [Ao3] | [Wattpad] | [Tumblr Masterlist]

It’s Christmas.

Last year, Sebastian spent the holiday alone, but now he is a married man with a wife to dote on. After spending nearly two weeks away on Ministry business, he is eager to be home. It isn’t how he expected to feel so soon after the wedding, an arranged affair he wanted nothing to do with. But Mrs. Sallow has surprised him, in more ways than one.

She is still a shy creature of few words, but has relaxed considerably since their wedding night. She smiles and listens when he yammers on about his day and has gradually sought out his company and comfort. The more he learns about her as a person, the more besotted he becomes, realizing that their future isn’t as grim as he once believed.

Not to mention all the fun he’s having teaching her about carnal pleasures.  

Sebastian has every intention of surprising his wife with his arrival, but after sneaking up the stairs and entering the master suite, he finds it empty. He’s about to retreat and check the other rooms when he hears sloshing water from the adjoining bathroom and quietly advances. He peeks through the small gap in the door to see her relaxing comfortably in the ornate tub, head resting against the porcelain rim. Steam rises from the soapy water, the top of her breasts barely visible. It’s a delectable sight, one that nearly causes him to stride in and join her, fully clothed.

Instead, he grins and retreats, leaving her be as he prepares the room for their reunion. Sebastian sheds his coat and jacket, loosening his tie before rolling up his sleeves. He kicks off his boots and stokes the hearth so they won’t freeze. It’s only when he’s inspecting his hair and teeth in the standing mirror that he conjures a wicked idea.

Not bothering to use magic, he lifts the framed glass and sets it down by the foot of the bed, carefully angling the hinges just so. He sits, a new wave of excitement rushing through his veins as his imagination runs wild. That’s where his wife finds him when she emerges from the bathroom with bright, surprised eyes and flushed skin.

She adjusts her robe a little, a shaky smile pulling at her lips. “You’re home.”

Sebastian smirks as he takes in the sight of her, a figment of his wildest dreams come true. He extends a hand, a silent comment he knows she’ll obey. She slowly approaches, yelping when he wastes no time in pulling her onto his lap, strong arms wrapping around her waist to secure her against him.

“Did you miss me, Mrs. Sallow?” he teases, playfully nipping the tender skin on her neck. She gasps, and it’s a sound he’s come to adore. He repeats the action, adjusting her so she’s more comfortably leaning against his back. “Because I missed you.”

“You did?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” he murmurs against her pulse point as his hands start to roam. “I’ve done some rearranging. I think it’s time you see for yourself how enchanting you are.”

She trembles, and he glances up to find her staring at their reflection, a brilliant blush on her cheeks. “Don’t be so demure, my love. Not when I had you screaming my name the night before I left.”

“I—I did not—”

“Yes,” he interjects, gently tugging on her earlobe with his teeth. “You did. Would you like a demonstration?”

“Gods, no!”

Sebastian loosens his grip on her, but despite her flustered state, she doesn’t flee. Instead, she leans into his embrace, sighing when his fingers slip inside her robe. Her skin is still warm from the bath, soft beneath his touch. He cups one of her breasts, and when he rolls a nipple between his thumb and forefingers, her head rolls back against his shoulder, lips parted in a silent moan.

“Do you want me?” he asks. She nods but he pauses, daring to pull away. “You know better than that, dear wife. Use your words.”

“Yes, please,” she whimpers. “I—I want you.”

“As you wish,” he darkly chuckles, taking his time with pulling her robe open to expose her naked flesh. The silk parts and he slips the fabric from her delicate shoulders so he can trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down her neck. With one arm tucked around her waist, he spreads her legs, hitching one over his knee and the other over his free arm so her sex is on full display. He watches the way her expression shifts in the mirror, gaze locked on his fingers as they caress her inner thigh.  

“Did you play with yourself while I was gone?” he questions, thrilled by the way her chest rises and falls with quick, little breaths. She nods again but this time he doesn’t push for more. Instead, he slides his fingers to where she needs him most, parting her folds to find her slick and ready. She melts against him with a shaky moan and her eyes flutter closed.

“None of that now,” he chides, moving the hand around her waist up to gently grasp her chin. “Open your eyes, love. I want you to watch. Watch, or I’ll stop touching you.”

She slowly peeks open her eyes before blinking to focus on their reflection, another strangled moan slipping from her lips as he circles her clit. Her hips twitch up, her body silently begging for more. Sebastian flicks his gaze back and forth between her dreamy expression and glistening center, groaning at how hard the sight makes him. As eager as he is to drop trou and sink into her, there is something incredibly gratifying in the way he makes her come undone with just his hands.

Sebastian pushes a finger into her, and she’s so hot and wet that he quickly adds a second. “Look at how well you take my fingers, love,” he praises, listening to her labored breaths as he slides his fingers in and out of her, gradually increasing the speed and depth. “Imagine how it will look when it’s my cock splitting you open.”

His lewd words only seem to arouse her further, and he groans in appreciation when he feels her inner walls clench around him. He continues to observe his own movements in the mirror, spellbound by the erotic fantasy come to life. His wife, so wanton and willing, writhing in his grasp as he pleasures her in the way only he can.

“Sebastian,” she practically whines his name and he growls against her neck, marking her with his lips and teeth. He can’t help but rock against her, his arousal still painfully restrained within his trousers. She rocks against him too, panting and mewling in desperation as he plunges his fingers deep, pressing against the tender spot that triggers her orgasm.

Only when she slumps against him does he remove his fingers, wiping some of her release across her inner thigh as he steadies her through the aftershocks. Sebastian struggles to be patient as she settles, clenching his jaw as his cock throbs for attention. Eventually, his wife lulls her head to the side to gaze at him through her eyelashes and he angles her chin again to kiss her mouth, expressing his hunger for her.

“I need you,” he rasps, swallowing her whimpers as he bites her bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. Sebastian shifts her, “Fuck, I need you.”

She nods, desperation in her expression as she shifts, helping him to unclasp his trousers and tug them down far enough for his cock to spring free. He yanks off her robe completely, tossing it to the floor before pulling her back onto his lap, back flush against his chest with her hands and feet pressing into the mattress on either side of his thighs. The positioning is awkward, but Sebastian is intent on having her this way, so they can both witness the exquisite way she takes him.

“Perfect,” he hushes against her ear, positioning himself before grasping her waist to help her balance. “You’re so beautiful like this, my love. Mine.”

“Yours,” she replies, their eyes locked in the mirror.

A dark, possessive sound echoes from his throat and he snaps his hips up, filling her with his need. Their attention snaps to where they are joined, and Sebastian swears he might come from the sight alone. He can’t sink completely into her with the position, but he doesn’t need to, already grazing against the spot within her that makes her shiver in ecstasy.

He digs his fingers into her flesh, guiding her movements as he sets a slow, sinful pace in an effort to savor the sensation. The reflection ensnares him, a vivid display he’ll have burned into the back of his mind for the rest of his life. Sebastian snaps out of the momentary daze when he senses the telltale signs of her impending release, her entire body convulsing as her walls flutter and squeeze around him. He isn’t going to last, not like this.

“Come on, darling,” he grunts, pulling her down onto him as he curses under his breath. “Come on your husband’s cock like the good little wife you are.”

And she says she didn’t scream his name.

“That’s right, love,” he murmurs, his voice cracking as he feels his release rapidly approaching. He shouts her name in kind, clutching her close as he groans and spills into her. “Mine,” he repeats, over and over as he loses himself to the overwhelming pleasure.

She’s still trembling when he finally withdraws a few moments later, and Sebastian uses the last of his strength to gather her up in his arms before placing her comfortably in the bed. He stretches out beside her exhausted form, smiling as he presses lazy kisses to her shoulder.

“Happy Christmas, Mrs. Sallow,” he whispers, tucking himself close. She turns her head to look at him, and he swears there’s an emotion in her gaze not present before that makes his heart skip a beat. She smiles, kissing him softly.

“Happy Christmas, Mr. Sallow.”

Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated. 💛

[realtalkswithfinn]

Christmas at the Compound

Avengers x reader

Summary: Avengers x reader Christmas head cannons because I am a sucker for the found family trope.

a/n: I tried to get this up before christmas but totally spaced it, so… tale it as a christmas morning gift! I tried to make it as age neutral as possible, so it could totally be teen!reader or not.

The holidays are a tough time for the Avengers.

Most of them have lost family members or friends, and the idea of celebrating anything is extremely difficult.

Tony especially - he always gets gloomy around the Holidays.

He always says something along the lines of, "I don't actually care about this, but its social convention."

But secretly he cares a lot.

He overcompensates for his lack of affection throughout the year by buying everyone the expensive gifts he knows they want but could never justify spending on themselves.

At surface level, it just seems like “oh rich guy is spending rich guy money”

But they’re actually really thoughtful gifts

Like last year, he got Peter a new laptop for school.

He bought Bucky new and thick clothes since all of his were old and worn.

He upgraded Clints cellular data so he could talk to his family anywhere.

Things like that.

Sam and Rhodey take one for the team and string the christmas lights on the tower

“It’s too cold for this.” Sam would complain, the sharp wind nipping at his cheeks as he flew from one end of the building to the other, lights in tow.

“Come one man, where’s your christmas spirit?” Rhodey would laugh

“I’m just doing this so stark’s power bill goes up.”

it really was worth it seeing the tower lit up top to bottom though

Wanda LIVES for commercialized American Christmas

"We have to make gingerbread houses and go to Rockefeller to see the Christmas tree and we have to go out to the snow and go sledding-"

She demands family Christmas photos be taken, even though you don't really have anyone to send them to.

This years theme was christmas pjs

Which lead to a few very interesting viral videos of the avengers in an Old Navy

“Tony come on the reindeer ones are cute!”

“Bruce. A man can not hold onto his masculinity while wearing pjs with dancing reindeer.”

Natasha gets tired of the bellyaching and bickering and makes the final decision

She grabs everyone’s size in the Reindeer pjs and marches to the front of the store

After snagging Tony’s credit card, of course.

Actually taking the picture is a whole other ball game, but that’s a story for another day

Thor has a hard time with the idea of Santa

You try to explain it to him, but it doesn’t seem to help

“So a fat man breaks into the safety of your home late into the night… and you let it happen because he comes baring gifts?”

“Well… yeah.”

“But only to nice children. That he stalks throughout the year.”

“He doesn’t stalk the children he just…”

“Hm.” He squints. “what about the naughty children?”

“They don’t get any presents.”

“OR,” Wanda interjects, “Krampus comes to get them.”

“Is that another fat man in a red disguise?”

“No. He’s a demon sent from hell to eat them.”

Thor nods in approval. “Ah. That’s much more asgardian. A fair reward system for the youth!”

You stare at him. “So… you’re okay with Krampus but not Santa?”

“Well I think they work together well, like a team. Like us!”

“I… I guess…”

Decorating the tree was an all night event

You would help happy bring up what felt like hundreds of boxes of christmas decorations

The tree itself was about 15 feet tall, because it wouldn’t be a holiday at the compound if you guys weren’t extra

It was placed in the living space, right next to a huge wall of windows so all of New York could see your festivity

it had to be decorated to the nines to pass Wanda’s inspection

Not a bare branch

Theres tinsel, ribbons, colorful lights, and hundreds of ornaments

But of course, ladders were a no go

You guys liked a challenge

To reach the higher branches, you and Natasha would stand on Steve and Buckys shoulders

And I mean stand

Not sit

It was a thrilling balancing game

You trusted them to catch you if you fell, but you still had to try to avoid it at all costs to save the tree from certain destruction

Peter would dangle from the ceiling, crawling around to hang ornaments toward the very top

Both of these acts nearly gave Bruce and Vision a heart attack

“CAP, you’re moving to fast shes gunna lose balance-“

“Bruce, please take a breath.”

Meanwhile Thor is getting distracted by all the ornaments and forgetting to actually hang them up

“This one’s a little man of snow! How silly!”

Speaking of ornaments

You all have an ornament of yourself on the tree

Or, your super hero alias at least

There’s a tiny black widow, a little iron man, a bity baby hulk, so on and so forth

Tony always demands his be the highest up on the tree to fuel his god complex

Drawing names out of a hat to see who got to put the star on top of the tree

(except you guys would always rig it behind Wanda’s back, only putting her name in the hat)

She would always protest, insisting to let someone else do it this year, but you guys never relented

So with a big cheesy grin on her face, she would use her magic to delicately place the star on the tippy top

You would think Natasha wouldn’t want to see the Nutcracker Ballet after her time in the red room

But it makes her so happy to see dancing as an art form instead of a way to brainwash young girls

She drags you, Clint, Wanda, and whoever else wants to tag along every year

She even splurges on front row seats

You look over and see her eyes glittering while she watches every turn, leap, and stunt intently

Leaving the theater, she’ll walk on her toes and do a few turns, encouraging you to try as well.

She ends up cackling watching you trip and stumble

“We’ll work on it.”

Can you IMAGINE the ginger bread making contest???

You’re all huddled around the long dining room table with christmas music playing

Theres Clint and Natasha, who just make the classic gingerbread house, no fancy bells or whistles.

Then there’s Bruce,Tony, and Peter who are going absolutely wild building gingerbread sky scrapers and gingerbread hotels.

“Mr. Stark look, I made a working elevator!”

Bruce puts an electric system (fairy lights) through his

Steve and Bucky rebuild their childhood homes

Wanda is going all out, delicately hand placing every candy and covering the whole thing in edible glitter

Visions is pretty similar, but more sleek and modern than Wanda’s

And then there’s Thor, who’s totally missing the point and just DUMPING everything on top

“Hey Peter, I think yours is missing something.”

You string a long thread of white rope candy from his structure to yours.

“Webs!”

“You know… we can probably make a web-like consistency with some starch and frosting…”

That becomes a whole sticky project, but you eventually get it to work, connecting everyone’s gingerbread houses with icing webs

Steve and Bucky are TOTALLY participating in the classic christmas traditions they grew up on.

They sit quietly together in the living room, making paper chains and stringing popcorn

“Do you mind if I join you guys?”

they smile gently. “Of course not.”

You sit crisscross in front of the couch while they teach you

They tell you stories of christmases long, long ago, which feels kinda silly considering they’re talking like grandpas while not appearing much older than you

On Christmas eve, you’re all there except for Clint, who went home to his family

Youre all dressed in your pajamas from the christmas card

You make hot coco and cider

Wanda pops in some old vhs tapes and you watch the classics late into the night

“Alright you nutcrackers,” tony would say around midnight. “I know you want to stay up and catch Santa, but he’s not coming if you all stay awake.”

he really just wanted to go to bed

He sauntered off, calling for lights out.

Most of the boys wandered away to their rooms, leaving you, Wanda, Nat and Thor not quite ready for sleep.

“So,” you ask, taking a sip of coco, “Do you guys think we’re on the naughty list?”

Natasha Chuckled. “I’m not sure. Does beating people up count as naughty if you’re taking down the bad guys?”

Thor set his mug down on the coffee table, the bells on his sweater jingling. “Do not fear ladies, I will catch that nasty Krampus if he comes in to devour your soul. I believe you were doing the right thing.”

You all laughed, thinking he was joking. But he just stared at you.

“Thor… you realize Krampus and Santa aren’t… real?” Wanda asked.

He had a hard time swallowing that.

He ended up sleeping on the couch “just in case”

you woke up at 3 am to a loud clattering coming from the living room

You decided to check it out against your better judgement

There was Thor. Hammer in one hand, cookie in another.

Down the hall toward the elevator was a completely destroyed life-size nutcracker.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I thought I heard something by the elevator.”

“Congratulations. You murdered the Nutcracker.”

“I feared he was an accomplice of the holiday demon.”

“He’s been there for weeks!”

“He could have been a spy. Or possessed.”

“Goodnight Thor.”

Christmas Morning finally arrived

Everyone was sleeping soundly in their beds

Until Sam decided to be a little shit and wake everyone up at 7 am

He pounded on every. single. bedroom door.

“Y/NNNN. SANTA CAME TO TOWNNNNN.” he sing-songed

“No he didn’t.” You grumbled. “Thor killed him.”

“… I don’t know what that means.”

You all stumble out into the living room

Natasha took the time to actually run a brush through her hair and do her morning skincare

You and wanda were far too excited and skipped over that completely, barely remembering to brush your teeth

Tony looked the roughest - he had a silk robe draped over his pjs and looked like he was just awakened from a coma

Essentially, everyone was a little disheveled

Vision made everyone coffee before you started the gift exchange

You all sat around the coffee table in a circle so everyone could see each other

Bruce and Steve passed out the gifts from under the tree

it took a solid few minutes, there was a MOUNTAIN of presents

You went one at a time opening gifts

Some people think this is awkward, but you felt it was more genuine

this way, everyone can see the gift and the joy on the receivers face

as well as a million “thank you”s

It also gave time for the giver to explain why they chose the gift they did, whether it be something they remembered you said you wanted, something they knew you needed, or even just a simple “this made me think of you”

In the end, you loved all your gifts

And everyone loved what you got for them

But mostly, you were just happy to spend the holiday with your family

[lostreverb]

is it new years yet?

--

(luke cooper x fem!reader) can christmas parties still be fun while heartbroken? kinda.

content: fluff, underage drinking, kissing

a/n: merry christmas and happy holidays! here's a little present for you all (loosely based on 2x10 of the office and 'is it new years yet' by sabrina carpenter <3)

--

the dunder mifflin christmas party... was proving to be as boring as you expected it to be. the walls were half-heartedly draped in limp tinsel and cheap decorations that screamed 'we tried, but not really.' and as your aunt phyllis dutifully dragged you from co-worker to co-worker, you were forced to engage in the most awkward small talk. some of her colleagues were polite, while others were... interesting to say the least. the second you were done making the rounds you scurried off, finding a secluded desk in the back a perfect hiding spot from the draining festivities.

finally alone, you checked your phone for what felt like the hundredth time. scrolling through instagram, you were greeted with another post from your ex looking infuriatingly cozy in matching holiday pajamas with someone new.

"so which one of these sad-sacks are you related to?"

you nearly dropped your phone as you snapped your head up, meeting the dark, curious eyes of an unfamiliar curly-haired boy. his demeanor made him appear as though he only wandered into this tragically depressing event for the free cookies.

"uh, phyllis," you replied, thrown off by his sudden appearance. where the hell had he come from?

"venus? no way." he snickered.

"phyllis," you corrected, unsure how he even got venus from that. "she’s my—"

before you could finish, the boy’s response was cut short by the arrival of your aunt’s boss, michael, who swaggered over—santa hat crooked, digital camera in hand. he threw an arm around the boy’s shoulder.

"luuuuke! lukey luke, my duke!" michael exclaimed, with sickening enthusiam "sneaking around, huh? making out in the back room? classic christmas partayy"

you looked over at luke, who simply let out a nervous chuckle. "no we're not-"

"picture!" before either of you could articulate your protest, the flash went off, blinding you momentarily. "you guys keep it up and you might end up on the front page of the newsletter- naughty naughty kids!" michael beamed at his impromptu masterpiece, ruffling luke’s hair like a proud uncle before wandering off, humming an off-key christmas carol in search of his next victim.

"well, that’s who i'm related to"

"hmm?" you murmured absentmindedly, distracted by another notification. your ex again—this time, a family picture, the both of them grinning like they’d been handpicked for a hallmark card. "yeah uh-"

there was a sudden burst of cheering from the main party room, loud enough to shake the flimsy tinsel on the walls. you and luke exchanged a glance before heading over to investigate.

michael was at the center of the commotion, grinning like a man who’d just won the lottery, surrounded by a precarious pyramid of vodka bottles—fifteen of them, to be exact. it was hard to say where he’d gotten them or how he’d managed to sneak them in, but judging by the energy in the room, no one was asking questions.

the party had clearly turned a corner. people were singing, dancing, and chattering animatedly, the earlier awkwardness replaced by a chaotic, boozy camaraderie.

it sucked.

not the party itself, but the fact that while everyone else seemed to be having a good time you were still wrestling with the dull ache of everything you’d been trying to ignore. with a resigned sigh, you strode over to the pyramid and swiped one of the bottles, ignoring michael’s thumbs-up and exaggerated wink as you made your way back to luke.

he was leaning against the desk where you’d left him, arms crossed, a faintly amused expression on his face.

"i hate christmas."

"you ever watch die hard?" luke asked with soft laughter, eyeing you as you unscrewed the cap with a little more force than necessary.

"die hard?" you repeated, the vodka scorching its way down your throat as you took a swig. at least it distracted you from the other kind of burn. "like the bruce willis movie?"

"yeah. the bruce willis christmas classic" he said, leaning back like he was delivering a hot take.

"oh… i guess i forgot about that part" you handed him the bottle, watching as he tipped it back for a drink.

"forgot? it’s literally what the plot revolves around," luke lowered the bottle, giving you a look like you’d just failed a pop quiz.

"yeah okay whatever" you shrugged. "how old are you again?"

"twenty," he replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"perfect. i’m going to kiss you now."

his eyes widened, but only for a second. "what? uh—cool."

you leaned in, closing the gap between you, but just as your lips met his, a blinding flash lit up the room.

tags (ask to be added or removed anytime!): @fear-is-truth @violetsghosts @quickreider @tiffysdeath @honeymoon8 @lacucarachapisser @xrag-dollx @oceanblvd111 @evanbabybear @vi0l3tluvsu

[anomalyaly]

The Nut Cracked

Summary: Sebastian Sallow doesn't understand muggle holiday traditions. But this one, he could get on top of.

OR, a spoof of 'The Nutcracker', but make it feral.

NSFW. ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+. MINORS DNI.

AO3/Wattpad

3k words. Written for a NSFW discord server event: The Naughty List.

This is NOT canon to the 'Secrets' universe hahaha or is it

Tags: Explicit sexual content, objectophilia if you squint, seventh year, orgasm denial, Sebastian has blue balls and doesn't know how to handle it

Sebastian didn't understand muggle holiday traditions.

The brightly decorated Ravenclaw girl presented him with a small parcel that he had initially been excited to unwrap. But, as much as he loved seeing the look on Elsie's face as she handed it to him, he couldn't understand why, out of all the gifts she could have chosen, she had picked out an odd-looking wooden doll.

"It's a nutcracker!" She beamed. "My parents can never be bothered to figure out what to get me or my siblings, so they usually send us a whole slew of stuff."

"And...you saw an old man doll and it reminded you of me?" Sebastian turned it around in his hands questioningly. He tried his hardest to seem grateful, but truthfully, he was utterly confused.

She scoffed. "It's not an old man doll. It's a traditional gift that originated in Germany to ward off evil spirits and –"

"Evil spirits?" He laughed. "The only evil spirit we have to worry about during this time of year is Peeves."

"Well, if you don't want it –"

He abruptly yanked his arm away from her and held the wooden figure closer to himself. "I never said I didn't want it. I just think it could be more...appealing."

She tilted her head, her brows furrowed in confusion. "How so?"

Sebastian grinned slyly and picked up his wand, waving it in front of the nutcracker and transfiguring it to look like a girl with wavy, dark hair and freckles dusted along her nose and cheeks. He held it up proudly. "There. Much prettier to look at."

He was met with an eye roll as she stood from the couch and stretched. "If you say so."

Sebastian hadn't been particularly secretive about his feelings for Elsie in recent months. In fact, he thought he was being blatantly obvious, doing everything short of outright telling her due to her relationship status being a bit complicated. Even so, he did his best to hide his irritation every time she brushed off another one of his comments as a sarcastic quip.

It certainly hadn't helped that the other day, she had trudged back from another one of her adventures in the Highlands sopping wet from the snow, the already thin material of her blouse nearly transparent as it clung tightly to her form, her nipples peaked from the cold. He had spent half of the night restless, the other half with his hand wrapped around his cock every time the tantalizing image replayed itself in his mind.

The castle was nearly empty as the two of them spent Christmas at Hogwarts together, and all he could focus on was how frustrated he had felt.

"I should turn in for the night," Elsie sighed, glancing at the time. "I promised Lydia that we would still leave milk and cookies out for Father Christmas. She's very adamant about keeping to tradition."

Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek as he forced himself not to beg her to stay with him for the night. It wasn't like the prefects or professors cared to parade the halls during the holiday with so many students gone. But she likely didn't see him that way. His streak of terrible luck would have him falling for someone he couldn't have.

"Alright," he murmured, hiding the disappointment in his tone. He held up the wooden doll. "Thanks for the, uh...gift?"

She grinned. "Have no fear. We'll exchange our actual gifts tomorrow. But," she tapped the nutcracker's brunette head, "I suppose now, you'll have the nutcracker version of me to help keep you safe."

Sebastian's eyes followed the sway of her hips as she headed toward the gate of the Undercroft. He quickly averted them when she turned back to look at him. "Happy Christmas, Sebastian. See you tomorrow?"

He nodded. "Yeah, see you. Happy Christmas."

She gave him one last soft smile, and the gate clanged shut behind her. Sebastian sighed. Guess I ought to head back to my common room for the evening. He grabbed the tiny doll and sauntered back to his dorm, feeling even more tense than he had been hours before.

It was going to be a long two weeks.

~

Sebastian awoke the next morning, exhaustion creeping in. He needed to get control of his thoughts before he –

"Good morning!"

A light, feminine voice chirped at him from his bedside. The rest of the dorm room was noticeably empty — Sebastian assumed Ominis had left for breakfast early, not wanting to wait while he slept in.

It still didn't explain why Elsie was standing by his bed on Christmas morning. She would never sneak into the Slytherin common room without good reason, let alone his bedroom, even with how often he had teased and prodded her to spend time with him there.

He rubbed his face, his eyes still bleary. "Elsie? What are you –"

The words died in his throat once he finally took a proper look at her. She was smiling coyly at him, her raven hair free and cascading down her back. But what surprised him the most wasn't the expression on her face or the loose, dark strands that curled along her freckled, pink cheeks. It was what she was wearing.

Instead of a Christmas jumper, like she had promised she would have on, Elsie donned the bright red uniform reminiscent of the nutcracker she had gifted him the night prior. It was loose on her small form, barely hanging on to her shoulders, and short enough that it hardly covered the creamy skin of her thighs. He knew he should look away, or at least tell her that she was far too exposed for her liking.

"You're uh..." He cleared his throat. "What...what are you wearing?"

"Oh, this?" She playfully slid the top further down her shoulders. His hungry gaze followed the line down her collarbone and towards the curve of her breasts.

This wasn't like Elsie at all. The girl he knew wouldn't have been dressed like this in his presence, especially because they hadn't so much as kissed yet. She would be flustered, finding anything she could to cover herself up, and likely avoiding him afterward for days out of sheer humiliation.

"Why so shy?" She asked. It was definitely her voice but with a sultry tone. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Sebastian swallowed. How could she have known that? "W-what do you mean?"

Elsie shrugged. "You made me. I heard your wish, and I'm here to grant it."

He blinked. Made?! "If this is some sort of muggle holiday prank, Elsie, it's really not funny."

She chuckled and sat next to him on the bed, draping an arm over his bare chest, and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "It's not. I'm your nutcracker, silly."

Oh. Oh.

The nutcracker he had mindlessly transfigured last night to look like Elsie had somehow become sentient. And now, Elsie, or at least a perfect copy of her, was practically on top of him, half-naked and promiscuously alluring. It was something he had only dreamed about in the darkest hours of the night, alone in his bed with a silencing charm cast over him.

His thoughts were racing wildly as he drank in the sight of her. She was close enough now and leaning in at just the right angle that he could see entirely down her top, and his breath caught in his throat as he realized that, underneath, she was completely bare. He shifted on the bed as he felt his erection press tightly against his pajama bottoms, quickly losing any scrap of restraint he had left, which hadn't been much to begin with. This was wrong, wasn't it? He couldn't deny how badly he had wanted this – wanted it for months now.

Moments later, her lips and tongue were tracing a hot trail of kisses along his neck, and as she lightly grazed his pulse point with her teeth, the last thread of his control snapped.

In one swift move, he took her face in his hands and fiercely captured her lips with his own, the sensation nearly enough to send him over the edge. Months of pining - of gentle, innocent touches and cuddles that the real Elsie had naively passed off as what two good friends would share - had made him ache with need.

For an imitation, the nutcracker-Elsie felt wonderfully authentic.

His fingers snaked in her hair and tugged lightly, eliciting a soft moan from her that had him shivering. Realistically, had it been their true first experience together, he would have wanted to savor every moment, taking his time as he mapped out every sensitive plane and curve of her body that would make her writhe with pleasure underneath his touch.

But, since this was his Christmas wish, he was going to be self-indulgent and take exactly what he wanted, just as he had imagined doing for so long.

A soft brush of her hand against his very hard and throbbing erection nearly sent him into a frenzy, and he let out a mewl so pathetic he would have been embarrassed had he not felt so ridiculously desperate. His hands scrambled to tear the baggy nutcracker uniform off of her, and as he ran his hand along her inner thigh and traced his fingers along her core, he realized without a doubt that she was soaking. For him.

Happy fucking Christmas to me.

Sebastian groaned as he practically dragged her into his bed and flipped her onto her back. His body vibrated with anticipation when her fingers tugged at his pajama bottoms and yanked them down abruptly. His cock sprang free, already aching with desire, and he melted into a moaning mess when she wrapped her silken hand around him and stroked.

"F-fuck...so good, Elsie —" The way she held him, so expertly gentle and firm at the same time, was better than even his wildest imaginations could conjure. His hips bucked into her touch while he stared down at her through hooded lids, understanding that he needed to take every second to memorize her body in case he never had an opportunity like this again.

Her face was flushed, the smattering of freckles along her nose and cheeks standing out, just the way he liked to see them — one of the reasons he would purposely try to make her blush. His hands followed his gaze as it traveled further down, past her parted pink lips and onto her voluptuous breasts, and he couldn't help but lean forward and take one of her pert nipples into his mouth.

Elsie's sighs and moans as he swirled his tongue around it were music to his ears. He reached out with one hand to cup her other breast while his other slid between her legs once more and lightly circled her clit with his thumb while he pumped two fingers inside of her. The sounds she emitted were delightfully sinful, and he decided that he didn't want to wait any longer. He had waited long enough, trying his damndest to be a gentleman all this time and letting the real Elsie take whatever their relationship was at her own pace.

He had earned this. It was bloody Christmas, and she was his present, and he fucking deserved it.

Sebastian slotted himself between her thighs and pulled back to look at her again. The unbridled need on her face mirrored his own, and he momentarily wondered if he should have spent more time making sure she was ready for him before taking her. After all, if it were the real Elsie, he would have made sure she felt good and reached her release many, many times before he had even attempted to fuck her.

All reason and logic flew out of his brain as he fitted the sensitive head of his cock at her entrance, her slick coating him completely. The needy cry that she let out at the feel of him was all the encouragement he needed to know that she was as desperate for him as he was for her.

"S-Sebastian," she moaned, the sound so erotic he hadn't thought it possible for it to have come from her. "Please — please fuck me. I — need...inside me — please."

Elsie begging. As if he couldn't come undone anymore.

"Anything for you, Princess."

With one abrupt motion, he pushed his hips flush against hers, sliding inside her easily and simultaneously letting out a disgustingly pitiful whimper. He was internally grateful that Ominis had decided to go to breakfast early — he would never have let him live down the sheer humiliation of the chorus of wanting coming from his lips.

Though the doll had been made of wood only moments before, the tight heat of her cunt felt very, very real. It was her body, her silken skin under his fingers, her normally elegant hair mussed and tangled against his bedsheets, and, best of all, her voice crying out his name as he fucked her relentlessly.

"S-Sebastian! Don't — don't stop!"

The high-pitched squeals she refused to hold back egged him on further as he roughly snapped his hips against hers, releasing a low growl as her legs wrapped tightly around him and pulled him deeper into her. The heady scent of her filled his nostrils — the distinct smell of vanilla and jasmine that had so often intoxicated him now enveloped him, and he tucked his head into the crook of her neck to allow himself to be consumed by it.

"Fuck, Elsie. I'm so fucking close."

It was happening too quickly, his release approaching dangerously faster than he would have preferred had this been the real Elsie. He teetered on the precipice of wanting to slow down and make it last longer, to enjoy every sound and feel of her as much as possible, or rewarding himself with what he had been dying to have for so long.

Fuck it — it was Christmas.

She dug her fingernails into his back and muttered a terrifyingly incoherent string of expletives in his ear, but somewhere within them, she was encouraging him to let go.

He was right there, so bloody close now — only a few more thrusts as he selfishly chased down the reality that she was finally, finally his.

"Sebastian!" Yes. Say my name again.

"Sebastian, please!" Just like that, almost there —

"Sebastian, wake up!"

Sebastian's eyes flew open as he sat up abruptly, blinking furiously in an attempt to gather where exactly he was.

Elsie, fully clothed in a Christmas jumper and trousers, her hair in its normal, elegant plait, stared at him from the side of the Undercroft couch, her brows furrowed in concern.

"Are you alright?" She asked worriedly, and her hand softly stroking his arm was almost enough to drag another pathetic groan from his throat. "You were making all these noises in your sleep. It sounded like you were having a nightmare."

Sebastian rubbed his face as reality came crashing down on him like a bucket of ice water. He had been too tired to head back to his common room last night and had fallen asleep in the Undercroft after Elsie had left.

As if to confirm his misfortune, the nutcracker she had gifted him was gingerly tucked under the crook of his arm, still transfigured to look like the girl who currently stood in front of him eyeing him curiously.

He would have laughed at the idea that she referred to his wet dream as a goddamn nightmare had he not still been so fucking hard, left to wrestle with the infuriating ache of incompletion.

Sebastian cleared his throat and muttered a thank Merlin to his last night's self that he had thought to cover himself with a blanket, lest she be subjected to his current state when she had only been trying to check on him and make sure he was okay.

"Uh, yeah. A nightmare," he grumbled, lowering his gaze to hide the heat that was beginning to creep up his neck and along his cheeks. "That's all. M'fine now."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically, and he knew she had good reasons to wonder if he was telling the truth — especially considering he could barely look at her. Not without imagining all of the unholy acts that his dream self had been moments away from —

"I guess the nutcracker didn't help ward off the evil spirits after all," she teased.

The nutcracker. His face reddened further at the memory of Elsie's desperate cries that would forever be branded into his memory.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She reached out to brush her hand along his forehead. "You're looking a bit flushed –"

He smacked her hand away, one touch further from losing himself right in front of her. "I-I'm fine! Just...got a bit warm down here, is all."

It was a blatantly obvious lie, considering he had slept in the Undercroft, which was always perpetually cold. Thankfully, she didn't question him further.

"Well, if you're alright, then get up soon," Elsie said, interrupting his immensely impure thoughts as she turned on her heel to leave. "Ominis is meeting with us outside the Great Hall to exchange gifts." She wagged a finger at him in mock warning, the sly smile on her face reminding him all too much of his dream, and he suppressed another shudder. "And don't be late. A bad back from sleeping on the couch is not a good enough excuse to miss Christmas."

He only offered a curt nod in response.

When the sounds of her footsteps receded, Sebastian flopped back on the couch, once again left alone with his miserable frustrations. The 'Elsie' nutcracker still lay on the couch next to him as if to taunt him, reminding him of what he had been so close to enjoying and what he could never have. He angrily batted it to the floor before grabbing one of the cushions, bringing it to his face, and smothering a mortified, unending scream.

Happy fucking Christmas to me.

[thesirencult]

X-MAS WITH YOUR FS.

PART 1 : UNDER

THE MISTLETOE

Kisses With Your FS

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We are in a holiday mood ladies and gents! I decided to create a series of holiday readings centered around our FS. The kiss under the mistletoe, what gift your future spouse would buy you, spending holidays with them, a Christmas getaway etc.

Sit back with your hot cocoa and relax !

Santa came early this year 🦌

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PILE 1

Kissing with your FS feels like home. Their hands wrapped around your waist remind you of hallmark movies you watched when you were a young kid, fantasizing about that kiss under the mistletoe.

Your FS is gentle and caring. They are all sugar, no spice and their kisses show just that.

Love, adoration and dedication. Your FS will kiss you slowly. Sometimes they will steal a kiss while putting up the lights and while you are baking cookies. They will always keep it PG, especially if others are present.

Your FS reminds me of Ryan from Castle. He is honourable, simple and affectionate yet super smart and ready to kick some a$$ if he needs to. They could actually look like him or if they are a woman they will be fair skinned and have light eyes, even if they are brown they will be on the lighter side. Also, if they are a woman they would be a lot like Sookie from True Blood.

Remember what I said about the spice? I take it back, a tiny bit. They can get spicy but in the most sweetest way. They are good boys/girls/theys. The type you take home to mama. They could even work in the military/fire department/police force.

Kissing them will make you feel safe and secure. No one would ever be able to take that feeling away from you both. Give em a peck from me too. They for sure deserve it !

Under the mistletoe they will get giddy and excited. Their smile is amazing, like Colgate type of smile and you will love seeing how happy they get around you and right before they kiss you. They will look like a schoolgirl/schoolboy, a kid stealing a cookie from the jar. Stealing kisses is how they will show how naughty they are. I just know who wears the pants in this relationship and news flash, it is not them, lol.

PILE 2

I can tell you one thing before I say anything about kissing.

Your FS finds you adorable. See that cat in the picture ? All cuddled up, not a care in the world, not a single thought behind those sleepy eyes.

Within every room you are the main event, at least for them. Actually, your FS will love kissing you when you are sleepy.

In general, the way you will find safety in their arms and ignore the whole world will drive them crazy. This shows me that your the way your FS kisses will make you feel loved and safe. It will also make you feel like a playful kitten. Your FS could be masculine (doesn't have to be a man) and they will make you feel safe to express your vulnerability and femininity.

They will not only love kissing your lips, they will love kissing your whole face and your hands/fingers. They will want to eat you up.

For them it will be pretty funny you melt into their arms cause you could be a very feisty person but with them you turn into a big baby.

I'm seeing a meme with a cat fighting with another cat and then going back to their mother and cuddling up like a baby.

Others will be like "Girl/boy/they who are you trying to fool?" And your person will say "Shhh they are sleeping. Don't mess with my baby." Meanwhile, over their shoulder you give the other person a hiss, lol.

Are you my "black cat 🐈‍⬛ energy" pile ? Well your person might be a whole tiger cause they seem to be thinking you are harmless and deserve every little kiss. This is giving "I'm a bad boy but I'll be good only with you." trope. Also, major Morticia and Gomez vibes. Height difference might be huge.

(Yup, that below is indeed you.)