#advent kisses calendar

[camilleflyingrotten]

[phoen1xr0se]

Good Holiday Omens Day 5

"I've got plenty of other people to fraternize with, angel... but there's only one I want to kiss."

[windwheeler-aster]

oops.

summary: your friend ayaka and you decide to go ice skating together... however, one thing leads to the next and suddenly it doesn’t feel right to call her your “friend” anymore.

masterlist | advent calendar

pairing: ayaka x reader

reader info: uses gender neutral pronouns (they/them) and reader is not traveler

word count: 524 words (3 mins~)

genre: romance, friends to lovers, accidental kiss

format: headcanons and blurbs

warning: slightly suggestive

a/n: i have so many THOUGHTS about accidental kisses, and ayaka is just so�� enjoy!!!

believe it or not, this ice princess can’t skate

she absolutely loves the idea of it, and finds it all to be quite sweet and romantic

but the opportunity had never came up for her

until you, her kind friend and secret crush, offered to teach her

ayaka is a little embarrassed as she stumbles on the ice

but she does appreciate how kind and patient you are

and the endless praise that spills from your mouth makes ayaka blush madly, but she just blames it on the cold

however, ayaka is a quick learner!

so much so, that you ask her to skate from one end of the ice skating ring to the other end without you

she’s quite confident as she glides over the ice

but when ayaka looks up to find your proud face, she accidentally ends up face first into you

which sends you both down into a comprising position... leaving a very flustered ayaka on top of you as she tries to think

Ayaka’s breath forms in small, white puffs in the chill air. Her fall knocked all the breath out of her, so she inhaled each breath of crisp air with gratefulness. However, once the air had been returned to her, Ayaka looked down to see what she landed on. But once Ayaka saw you beneath her, her breath was knocked out again.

Her face was pretty crimson, making her beautiful sky-blue eyes pop against her skin. However, she was quick to hide behind her hands as you stared at her with a dazed expression. It seems your friend was too flustered even to think. Or to get off from you.

Which was perfectly alright, you thought as your hands snuck up to her waist. The view’s much better down here, anyway.

Ayaka squealed, and you couldn’t help the soft coo you let out.

“S-stop it,” she stuttered out, her voice muffled thanks to a pair of hands. “You’re making me turn red.”

You began to sit up, now face to face with your dear friend. “Oh? But I thought it was the ‘cold’ that was—”

As you had moved closer to tease Ayaka further, she removed her hands from her face. She began to lean in, a combination of frustration and flusteredness all over her face. However, your combined movements resulted in a soft accidental kiss between you two.

For a moment, all you can do is stare into Ayaka’s eyes with shock. Her expression is mirrored back to you, coupled with a soft blush that decorates her cheeks. But her lips are so soft and tempting, that you couldn’t bear to end it here now. It feels so soft; you both think as you take in the texture. Your hands still rest on Ayaka’s hips, but as you two sit lip to lip, you tighten your grip ever so slightly. Her face contorts into brief shock before a mischievous look enters her eyes.

Another moment passes between you two, and Ayaka finally lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

And then she deepens the kiss, making you both think: it feels so right.

taglist:

@x-zho  @definitelynotaneulasimp​​ @cxlrosii​ @tiredsleep​​​

(send an ask to be added or removed)​​

thank you for reading 💖 all forms of interaction to my posts are appreciated 💖

[leddia]

xmas with satan day 23:

kiss

to see all prompts made so far click here

[meringuecream7]

Meringue’s Advent Calendar: 3. Mistletoe

[redgoldblue]

iffff you would still like to do the kiss roulette thing: 🎲 + s&h

(kiss roulette)

Hilariously, both you and ACL sent me S&H and both of your numbers were the #horny prompts. And while I probably could (and lowkey kinda did) find a way to make ACL’s not horny, this one is easier to twist.

“Starsky, you really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“The doctor said it was fine for me to do light work.”

“The pertinent word being light, Starsky. Not hiking halfway up a stepladder carrying a heavy painting.”

“I’m not carrying the painting anymore,” Starsky points out, obviously doing his best impression of someone who thinks that's a good argument.

“Only because there was no-one in the grocery store and I got home early. I could’ve come home to you collapsed on the floor with your stitches busted.”

“Oh, come on. It was one stab wound.”

“Stab wound, love of my life. Stab. Wound.” Hutch infuses the endearment with as much derision as he can, and judging by the glare Starsky shoots down at him, it comes through.

Hutch sighs and rests the painting against the wall. It's one of his, a sunset landscape of the hills that ring Bay City, that's been in exactly the same place - on the floor in the corner of the bedroom, along with a dozen others - ever since he painted it, and he would have been perfectly content to leave it there. But interior decoration is the latest thing Starsky's been driven to by the horrors of convalescence, and Hutch's walls are suffering the results.

"You know I don't even want that hanging up," he tries anyway, despite knowing it's useless.

"You should have at least one of your paintings up!" Starsky exclaims, and slaps the wall for emphasis. He's still on painkillers, which is another reason Hutch doesn't want him up a goddamn ladder. "They're good."

"The drugs sure are," Hutch mutters.

"The drugs are nothing. Your paintings are something."

Resting his hands on his hips, Hutch looks up at Starsky. "Are you going to come down?"

"Whaddayathink."

Hutch sighs. "Yeah." There are certain things in life one simply has to philosophically accept, and sometimes those things are your drugged and wounded partner on a stepladder. "Just- don't move, okay."

Starsky obediently pauses, with the hand he'd been waving around frozen in mid-air and a distinct sense of waiting for the audience reaction. Hutch gives him what he's looking for and laughs, because he's a sucker.

Starsky relaxes but, to his credit, stays still as Hutch backs off and assesses. Unfortunately, Starsky actually has picked the best spot for the painting - out of direct light but still bright enough to see it, in a wallspan large enough that it won't be dominated by it but not so large that it will look strange by itself. Meaning Hutch can't use that excuse to get him down and then possibly just tackle him onto the couch, which had been an option under consideration.

Sighing, he rests his left hand on Starsky's hip and brushes a kiss next to it, where the flannel he stole from Hutch's closet - and is wearing with one low button hanging on for dear life - has ridden up to expose soft skin.

"Ah-ah," Starsky chides, and twists to look down at Hutch and ruffle a hand through his hair. "You're not gonna distract me that easy."

That honestly hadn't been Hutch's intention - it had been more automatic reflex than anything - but he can't deny it would have been a valiant effort. "Okay, okay. Turn back around."

Hutch leans down to get the painting again, then steels himself to lift it to Starsky.

Who, of course, immediately grabs it and hoists it up like he wasn't bleeding in an alley in the foetal position a week ago. With a faint noise of protest, Hutch moves back as fast as he can and grabs hold of Starsky's hips to steady him, elbows on the top of the ladder to steady himself.

Grinning, Starsky takes one hand off the painting and waves it in the air. "Look, Ma, no hands!"

Hutch groans and buries his face against Starsky's lower back. "You're going to kill me. Or I'm going to kill you."

"Which one?"

"I still haven't decided."

Starsky's hand pats his shoulder comfortingly.

There's a few moments of silence where Hutch keeps Starsky gripped firmly and his eyes closed equally firmly and tries not to picture blood all over his nice clean rugs. Then Starsky says, "Ta-da!", shortly followed by, "Hutchinson, look at me."

"Do I have to?"

"You know, I'm liable to get offended if you don't. I'm very easy on the eyes, so I've been told."

"Don't believe everything you're told," Hutch mutters, for form's sake, but peels himself off Starsky's skin enough to look up. Starsky looks fine, complete with proud smirk and the painting hanging behind him. Having it up isn't going to help Hutch stop seeing the spot in the corner where the paint dried wrong and the stroke over the far right hill that went slightly left of where it should have been, but it's possible Starsky's unwavering enthusiasm might help him focus on the bits that went right as well.

"I still hate you," he tells him, and tugs on the bottom of his shirt.

Instead of coming down, Hutch's intended request, Starsky brushes his hands off enough to awkwardly shuffle around in place - which Hutch watches in long-suffering silence, braced to catch him - and sits down on top of the stepladder. He reaches for Hutch's shoulders. "Hey."

"Hello," Hutch obligingly parrots.

"I promise I'm not going to kill myself in your house under your supervision."

"It's a little late for that."

"I still gotta come down."

Hutch groans. "I will lift you."

"Yeah?" Starsky asks, waggling his eyebrows. "Where you gonna put me, sailor?"

"Somewhere soft and at ground level. Possibly with bars."

"Kinky." Smiling, Starsky twists his grip into Hutch's shirt and pulls him as close as he can get with the ladder still between them. He drops a glancing kiss to Hutch's lips, then says, "Am I allowed to kiss you, or are you too worried about busting my stitches?"

"Mm," Hutch grunts. "I'll allow it."

"Good to know." He moves one arm to wrap around Hutch's shoulders, then leans in again.

In the ensuing moments, Hutch almost manages to forget about the imminent danger to his walls, his rugs, and his partner.

[curiousoldme2]

14th December

So today, I decided not to wear any lipstick, so I thought I'd share my natural lip colour 🙈🙉🙊

#me #curiousoldme2 #barelips #tongue #christmasadventcalendar

[rosepompadour]

P. Louise 'Magic in the Memories' Advent Calendar

[theflyingfeeling]

I really hope Olli and Allu have a really nice day today together in Oulu and maybe even go on a date to a fancy restaurant 🥺

me toooooooooo 🥺 I hope they had a little private Christmas party of their own, since they probably didn't have the priviledge of much privacy at the band Christmas party the other week... 👀

[camilleflyingrotten]

Wings - Part 1/3

[autumnknightsofficial]

Autumn Knights Advent Wine Adventure Day 21

(aka Drink 21)

[juksuart]

4th window is about OCs! They’re both in streetracing gangs but in different ones. The blond one belongs to @kusirotta and his name is Mako, the other one is my OC and his name is Rafael!

[allywthsr]

MAKING ORNAMENTS | (l.norris)

summary: you and your kids make ornaments, lando is a supportive dad

wordcount: 1.2k words

pairing: dad!landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: kids

notes: I want Lando to take care of my kids 🥺

advent calendar

You sat with Lando and your two kids, Louis and Sofia around the table, craft items in front of you. Louis was three years and little Sofia was just half a year old, she currently lay in Lando’s arms, while he was feeding her. She latched just fine at the beginning, but two weeks ago she started to refuse your breasts and only wanted to be fed by the bottle, it wasn’t your ideal breastfeeding ending, but if she felt more comfortable with the bottle, you weren’t one to deny her that.

Lando stared down at her with a big smile, still in a dream that she was here and he was able to protect her, his little princess. Not that he wasn’t protective over Louis, but he was a little boy, he was headstrong and already stood up for himself. Sofias' hand was wrapped around Lando’s thumb and he left kisses every now and then on her forehead, smelling that baby smell each time, she smiled up at him, clearly happy that he was feeding her.

But back why you were sitting around the table with the family, you wanted to make Christmas ornaments and presents. You found some cute stuff online and wanted to try it out with your kids.

The one you liked the most was an ornament diy, you needed to take a bit of clay and form it into a flat round shape and press the kids‘ hand in the clay, afterwards, you needed to make a little hole at the top, where you could later put a thread through and hang it on the Christmas tree. So you got to work, rolling around the clay with your hand to warm it up a little. You pressed it on the table, that you covered with cling film, so it wouldn’t get dirty, and tried to flatten it, while keeping the round shape.

Louis wasn’t as happy with the idea of having to do crafts, he liked to play with his toy cars or stack his Lego Duplo on top of each other, the only crafty thing he liked was Play-Doh, it was rare that he wanted to draw.

When the clay was flattened enough and you made two of them, you ushered Louis to come to you, he climbed down his kiddy chair and you lifted him on your lap, ”Louis, do you want to press your hand in the clay? We then have your handprint on it.“

He looked at you with big eyes, ”Mama, why?“

Lando chuckled while Sofia was almost finished with her bottle.

”We then can hang it on our tree, as an ornament.“

”Why?“

By now Lando was laughing, Louis had his questioning phase at the moment, everything was questioned and he had to know the answer.

”Because it’s pretty and a good memory.“

He nodded and held out his hand to you, you gently grabbed his arm and pressed his hand into the clay, with your other hand you pressed his fingers more into the clay, making sure his handprint was fully on there.

Lifting his hand, you gasped at the handprint, it was perfect, ”Look, Louis! Your handprint, what do you think?“

”It’s pretty mummy, daddy, look!“

Lando got up with the empty bottle and Sofia and came around, so he was able to look at the handprint.

”Louis, you did so good! It’s beautiful.“

He brought the bottle to the kitchen and turned Sofia around so he could burp her, he came back and caressed Louis‘ head.

”Louis, do we want to do that again? It’s for Nana and Papa, so they have one as well for their tree.“

He nodded and held his already dirty hand to you again. You repeated the step you did a few seconds ago, and when he lifted his hand, the three of you gasped.

”Mummy! My hand.“

”Pretty, isn’t it? Should we go and wash your hands?“

Louis nodded and you lifted him off your lap and sat him on the floor where he started to run to the bathroom. Quickly you left a kiss on your daughter's cheek and went after your son, to help him wash his hands. Once his hands were clean and you returned to the table with Louis, Lando, and Sofia waiting for you two, Sofia was burped and ready for her turn, not that she knew what was happening soon.

”Look, Louis, I will make a hole in the clay and once it’s dry, we can hang it on our Christmas tree. Do you want to watch your sister do the same?“

He excitedly nodded and sat on his kiddy chair again, playing with a few cars while you made the holes in the clay. Sofia was getting fuzzy, Lando tried to calm her by bouncing her up and down, but she was not having it.

”Daddy, do you want me to talk to Sof?“

He was so mature for his age and already the best big brother ever, he knew when Sofia was fuzzy, not a lot helped, she mostly wanted to be held and played with. Lando nodded and lowered Sofia, so Louis was able to look at her while standing up.

”Sof, you can stop crying, it’s not scary, and when it’s finished we have a pretty-looking ornament, you don’t need to cry.“

You teared up at what Louis was saying, he was truly the best big brother ever, protecting his sister at all costs and trying to cheer her up. He kissed her cheek and Lando gave Sofia to you, so you could get over with the clay part pretty quickly. While Louis was calming her down, you already made two round shapes, the only thing that was missing was her handprint.

You positioned her so that you could press her hand in the clay, Lando helped you with gently adding pressure on her hand to get her handprint on there. When you lifted her hand, and the print was beautiful, you immediately pressed her hand against the other clay, Lando repeating the same as he did with the other one.

Louis squealed when he saw her handprints and Lando took her to the bathroom, where he cleaned Sofia's hands.

You moved the clays to a safe spot where they could dry, and Louis couldn’t reach them.

”Mummy, when’s daddy coming back? I want to play with him.“

”Soon baby, he’s putting Sof down for a nap, did you like crafting? We can do it every year and see your hands grow!“

”Yes, mummy, but I can go play now?“

You chuckled and nodded, when Lando came back and kissed your cheek, you told him that Louis was waiting for him in the living room.

”I love you, and our kids so much.“

[lokischocolatefountain]

Seven

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

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

Summary: You and Javi discuss children

“How many?”

“Hmm?”

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

“Hmmm seven?”

“Fuck no!”

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

“Shut up.”

“Five?” He asked, making you angrier.

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

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

“Three is the absolute maximum for me.”

“Then three is good.”

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

“Mhmm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re just realizing that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck!”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. Let’s have three sons.”

.

.

.

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[cranberrymoons]

for the first time

prompt: first time (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: e word count: 371

welcome to Day 10 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

The only light in the room is the soft glow of the moon coming in through the window, and Steve is trying hard to catch his breath. He never knew it would be like this. He’s thought about men plenty of times before, and he’s been thinking about it more and more since knowing Eddie, but if he’d known , if he’d, if he’d – 

Eddie’s teeth scrape over his pulse point and he sucks in a ragged gasp, shaking hands pushing back through long curls as he arches up toward his mouth. He tangles his hands in Eddie’s hair and uses the leverage to pull him to his mouth, licking in and in, filthy and deep like he’s trying to taste the back of his teeth. 

Eddie’s hips shift against his, and Steve gasps again, hitching his knees up higher and keeping him held close. 

“Yeah?” Eddie asks quietly, gentle. He noses at Steve’s cheek then back to his ear, running his tongue over the skin there. “You like it like this?” 

“Want you deeper.” 

Eddie lets out a soft sound and shifts Steve’s hips even higher, pressing in that fraction of an inch more, and it punches something through his chest. He can already tell, even now: this is it. He’s never going to not think about this, and Eddie, and the way his hands feel on his skin, about the look on his face hovering above, hair frizzing out of the bun on top of his head as he ducks his head down to brush a soft kiss over his lips.

He’s so full he feels like he could cry, like all the feelings whirling around in his head might just come bursting up through his chest and out of his mouth. He feels like his head is made of stars, like the whisper of snow falling outside is clouding up his head, like he can’t think about anything other than this.

He doesn’t want to think about anything other than this.

Eddie’s breath shakes where it fans out over his skin and their fingers twine together on the pillow over his head, and Steve feels, for maybe the first time in his entire life, like he’s loved.

[also on ao3]