art by akatnamedeasterGreetings and welcome to
Kinky Kristmas 2018: Comment Kink Edition!Our members have made requests for stocking stuffers that would help make their holidays happy -- and kinky, of course! Now you all -- both members and watchers -- have the opportunity to play Santa and fulfill those requests. In the form of comment kink!
How to Stuff Our Stockings:• Request fills must be a minimum of 200 words (if fic) or a sketch equivalent (if art).
• There is no maximum limit, but remember that long pieces are in no way required. Please don't hesitate to participate because you can "only" write a few words or do a simple sketch!
• Since fills may be short, we're not going to be strictly policing the rating of each piece. Just remember this is Daily Deviant and we want to see some sex!
• Each request may be filled
twice -- once by a member and once by a watcher.
• When filling a request, leave it in a comment directly in a
reply to the request you're filling.
• When filling a request, note whether you're filling it as a watcher or a member.
• If you are now or have ever been a posting member of Daily Deviant, you'll be filling the requests as a member.
• Prompt claiming is available but
optional. What this means is that you need not claim a request in order to fill it, but if it's already claimed by someone else, it's off limits.
• In order to claim a request, comment directly in a
reply to the request stating that you're claiming it. Be sure to note whether you're claiming it as a member or a watcher.
• Since we want as many goodies in our fishnet stockings as possible, there will be an expiration date on claims. One week after a claim is made (as per the time stamp on the comment), if the prompt has not been filled, the claim expires and the prompt is open for claiming or filling by someone else. (We'll try to keep track and delete the expired ones, but we may miss a few, so you can just keep an eye on the time stamps.) So if a prompt you really love appears to be taken, remember to check back.
• If you've made a claim that has expired, you may still post a fill in reply to the prompt
as long as no one else fills it or claims it first.
• Participants may have a total of
two outstanding claims at a time. I.e., you may claim two requests, then when you've filled one, you may claim a third, etc.
• Additional prompts will most likely continue to appear throughout the month depending upon participation levels and demand.
•
Commenting, interacting, and generally having fun is welcome and encouraged!! Fandom is all about interaction with like-minded
perverts people. Let's enjoy some friendly, smutty holiday merry-making! ;D
Got all that? Okay, good! Now...
LET THE STUFFING COMMENCE!
(Double entendre totally intended, naturally...)
He’d been stuck on what to get Sirius for Christmas. Harry’s the first to admit that he’s shite at buying presents for people – another wonderful side-effect of growing up in the Dursleys’ boot cupboard – but he’d wanted something special this year. It’s their first Christmas as a couple. But Sirius is impossible to buy for, and increasingly desperate searches for anything he’d like had proved fruitless. He’d driven Ron to distraction more than once, dragging his best friend into the search for the perfect gift only to give up out of frustration because Ron’s ideas for ‘suitable gifts for older male love interests’ ran to socks and Firewhiskey.
It had been Remus who’d given Harry the idea. Quite unintentionally – he’d wrinkled his nose when they’d told him they were together, clearly struggling with the idea of it, but had congratulated them all the same. “You always were a kinky bugger,” he’d murmured in Sirius’ ear, and Harry – blushing furiously at the time – hadn’t thought anything of it. At least, not until mid-December when the panic had truly started to set in.
He’d gone to a Muggle sex shop. The woman behind the counter had grinned at his obvious embarrassment, but she’d had ideas. Ideas that were better than socks. Some of them, Harry hadn’t been up to thinking about at the time; there was a corner of the store filled with black leather straps and silver studs that had been terrifying to look at, but which has featured in some of his fantasies since. The shop assistant had been the one to suggest lingerie as a starting point, and had guided him to racks filled with lace and satin in a rainbow of colours.
For all that they’re incredibly soft, the pale green panties he picked out aren’t that comfortable. They’re satin at the front and lace in the back, delicately trimmed with white ribbon. They aren’t really designed for men, so they stretch and dig in odd ways. He’d squirmed his way through Christmas Eve celebrations at the Weasleys’, half aroused and half terrified that someone would notice his discomfort and ask why. He likes them, though. He likes the way they feel on his skin; likes the way they make him look soft and pretty and almost fragile. He has plans, if Sirius likes them as much as he does – plans for garter belts and stockings and ribbons.
“Merry Christmas,” he says quietly.
He lets Sirius unwrap him. Strip him completely, right in the middle of the living room. He’s nervous, still, but excited – half hard in anticipation as Sirius slides his jeans down his thighs and lets them fall. Harry steps out of them obediently, bare to his godfather’s gaze except for a scrap of green satin and lace that leaves nothing to the imagination.
“Such a pretty, perfect present,” Sirius says. It comes out as more of a growl, and Harry’s breath hitches as Sirius drops to his knees in from of him. Long fingers slide between soft satin and his skin. Sirius leans in to press an open-mouthed kiss to Harry’s cock. The panties are thin enough that he can feel the heat of Sirius’ breath through the cloth, and he feels his knees tremble.
Sirius looks up at him and Harry shudders at the expression on his face. So much want. His cock fills, straining at the cloth, and he gasps as Sirius presses his face against him, breathing in. Sirius noses along the length of him, kissing and licking until the panties are clinging to Harry’s prick from the moisture. Harry tangles his fingers in Sirius’ hair, tugging him closer. He’s panting; he can hear the tiny, keening noises he makes at every touch. It should be embarrassing. It isn’t; Sirius wants him – likes him to be loud – so nothing else matters.