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mini_fest2017-12-15 06:06 pm
mini_fest_mod) wrote in mini_fest2017-12-15 06:06 pm
Entry tags:
FIC: Santa Claus Is Coming In Brown (Harry/Ron - 629 - NC-17)
Title: Santa Claus Is Coming In Brown
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
roelliej
Pairing(s): Harry/Ron
Prompt: Own prompt
Word Count/Art Medium: 629
Rating: NC-17 (to be safe)
Contains (Highlight to view): Sexual Content, Rimming, Language
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thanks much, dear DS, for the beta-check! <3
Summary: Harry had been a good boy all year. Would Santa pay him a visit?
Butterflies were fighting each other to the death inside Harry’s stomach as he waited impatiently. He tried to keep his throbbing erection and right hand in check, while listening to the muffled sounds coming from the chamber right under Ron’s attic room. It wouldn’t be long, before...
“Fuck, Satan.”
“Keep your voice down, Ms Brown, or I’ll need to spank your dishy bottom. And it’s Santa, dear.”
Harry felt his heart hammering in his throat as he looked at his image in the mirror. He checked his breath for the sixth time and turned off the light as he carefully slipped into his bed. A shiver went through his body as he heard the familiar creaking of the stairs. He closed his eyes and prayed Santa wouldn’t notice the Extendable Ears, hidden beneath his bed.
Harry heard the door being opened as he pretended to snore. The smell of sweat and sex reached his nostrils. It should revolt him, but Harry’s cock didn’t mind—it got even harder and wetter.
“Are you asleep, Harry?” Santa whispered. Harry could hear and smell that Santa had one cup of eggnog too many, but that wouldn’t have impact on what was about to come. He suppressed a lustful smile and didn’t answer.
“You’ve been such a good boy today,” Santa whispered as he slowly pulled off the blankets, revealing Harry’s stiff prick bulging his pyjama trousers. “Santa heard that you’d helped Mrs Weasley with the cooking and that you entertained the youngest Weasley boy with your cheeky smiles and your cute flushed cheeks.”
Harry blushed like a schoolboy, but tried to be as silent as possible. He couldn’t admit to Santa that he had been horny all day, wishing Ron would bend him over the table, and fuck him until he saw stars. Harry couldn’t tell Santa that he was lusting after the boy who belonged to someone else. He couldn’t say how much it hurt that Ron held hands with his girlfriend during the Christmas dinner, while Harry was longing for his touch.
Harry swallowed and suppressed bittersweet tears. One escaped, though. Santa caught it with his finger.
“It hurts Santa to see you cry, my dear boy. Can I make it better?”
Harry opened his eyes and felt nothing but affection for the man sitting so close to him, his freckles breaking through the worn-out white beard. Ron looked ridiculous in his red suit but Harry was yearning for Ron’s cock deep inside his arse. With or without the suit, Harry didn’t care.
“Fuck me, Ronald Claus,” Harry breathed. “Make me come.”
Ron smiled and pulled Harry close for a needy kiss.
“Do you want to be fucked first?” Ron whispered in Harry’s ear as his hand rubbed the firm bulge between Harry’s legs. “Or shall I suck your cock, until you come down my throat?”
Harry moaned something inaudible as Ron’s warm, wet mouth took his cock in. He was dancing on a higher ground, coming hard and profusely into Ron’s mouth, holding back screams as Ron licked his arsehole, groaning as Ron entered him, biting his lip as his lover spurted deep inside of him, and sighing as he came again, Ron’s fingers around his cock prolonging his orgasm as long as possible.
Harry tried to speak—he felt like it was required to say something—but Ron’s finger on his lips silenced him.
“Sleep, my beautiful boy,” Ron whispered. “Sleep, and never be afraid again. I choose you.”
Harry looked up and saw a tear travelling over Ron’s left cheek. “Are you serious?”
“Definitely,” Ron said softly, placing a kiss on Harry’s forehead. “Merry Christmas, my dear Harry.”
Harry opened his mouth to speak but promptly fell asleep in Ron’s warm arms, feeling completely safe and loved.
Author/Artist:
roelliejPairing(s): Harry/Ron
Prompt: Own prompt
Word Count/Art Medium: 629
Rating: NC-17 (to be safe)
Contains (Highlight to view): Sexual Content, Rimming, Language
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thanks much, dear DS, for the beta-check! <3
Summary: Harry had been a good boy all year. Would Santa pay him a visit?
Butterflies were fighting each other to the death inside Harry’s stomach as he waited impatiently. He tried to keep his throbbing erection and right hand in check, while listening to the muffled sounds coming from the chamber right under Ron’s attic room. It wouldn’t be long, before...
“Fuck, Satan.”
“Keep your voice down, Ms Brown, or I’ll need to spank your dishy bottom. And it’s Santa, dear.”
Harry felt his heart hammering in his throat as he looked at his image in the mirror. He checked his breath for the sixth time and turned off the light as he carefully slipped into his bed. A shiver went through his body as he heard the familiar creaking of the stairs. He closed his eyes and prayed Santa wouldn’t notice the Extendable Ears, hidden beneath his bed.
Harry heard the door being opened as he pretended to snore. The smell of sweat and sex reached his nostrils. It should revolt him, but Harry’s cock didn’t mind—it got even harder and wetter.
“Are you asleep, Harry?” Santa whispered. Harry could hear and smell that Santa had one cup of eggnog too many, but that wouldn’t have impact on what was about to come. He suppressed a lustful smile and didn’t answer.
“You’ve been such a good boy today,” Santa whispered as he slowly pulled off the blankets, revealing Harry’s stiff prick bulging his pyjama trousers. “Santa heard that you’d helped Mrs Weasley with the cooking and that you entertained the youngest Weasley boy with your cheeky smiles and your cute flushed cheeks.”
Harry blushed like a schoolboy, but tried to be as silent as possible. He couldn’t admit to Santa that he had been horny all day, wishing Ron would bend him over the table, and fuck him until he saw stars. Harry couldn’t tell Santa that he was lusting after the boy who belonged to someone else. He couldn’t say how much it hurt that Ron held hands with his girlfriend during the Christmas dinner, while Harry was longing for his touch.
Harry swallowed and suppressed bittersweet tears. One escaped, though. Santa caught it with his finger.
“It hurts Santa to see you cry, my dear boy. Can I make it better?”
Harry opened his eyes and felt nothing but affection for the man sitting so close to him, his freckles breaking through the worn-out white beard. Ron looked ridiculous in his red suit but Harry was yearning for Ron’s cock deep inside his arse. With or without the suit, Harry didn’t care.
“Fuck me, Ronald Claus,” Harry breathed. “Make me come.”
Ron smiled and pulled Harry close for a needy kiss.
“Do you want to be fucked first?” Ron whispered in Harry’s ear as his hand rubbed the firm bulge between Harry’s legs. “Or shall I suck your cock, until you come down my throat?”
Harry moaned something inaudible as Ron’s warm, wet mouth took his cock in. He was dancing on a higher ground, coming hard and profusely into Ron’s mouth, holding back screams as Ron licked his arsehole, groaning as Ron entered him, biting his lip as his lover spurted deep inside of him, and sighing as he came again, Ron’s fingers around his cock prolonging his orgasm as long as possible.
Harry tried to speak—he felt like it was required to say something—but Ron’s finger on his lips silenced him.
“Sleep, my beautiful boy,” Ron whispered. “Sleep, and never be afraid again. I choose you.”
Harry looked up and saw a tear travelling over Ron’s left cheek. “Are you serious?”
“Definitely,” Ron said softly, placing a kiss on Harry’s forehead. “Merry Christmas, my dear Harry.”
Harry opened his mouth to speak but promptly fell asleep in Ron’s warm arms, feeling completely safe and loved.
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Thanks much, hon! <3
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