No Need To Ask Twice U Naughty Woman Jflwnfldjf My Dear GODDD

no need to ask twice u naughty woman jflwnfldjf my dear GODDD

You can do a One-Shot where all the teachers from Nevermore are in a meeting, while Larissa and Reader have fun under the table...

Jojojo

oh anon i like this one. thank u for the idea

Larissa Weems x teacher!reader smut -

In A Meeting

“Mr. Volkov, I’m going to need that report by Friday. No later.” Larissa tilted her face downwards, giving the bearded man a stern look before beginning the meeting, “Okay, everyone, today’s meeting actually won’t be ran by me. Please hold your sighs of relief. Instead, Vlad has put together his a plan for binding extracurriculars with some aspects of our curriculum, hoping students can better learn from having the two together. Take it away.”

Larissa took her seat next to you after she handed off the meeting to Coach Vlad. This was the week before classes began on campus and all teachers were scrambling to make sure they were ready for the upcoming semester. You weren’t particularly interested in his idea of combining extracurriculars with curriculum as you already helped the Hummers and the floriculture team. Your eyes scanned the faces in the dark room, wondering if someone was as disinterested as you.

Finally you turned your head back to the presentation, listening about the importance of fencing and archery. You felt a hand graze your knee, your eyes betraying you as they widened with initial shock. It didn’t take you long to realize who the hand belonged to, after all Larissa’s sexual appetite as of late was ravenous.

Teasingly, she played with the hem of your skirt, her eyes glued to the projected screen on the wall. She seemed enthralled by the presentation. What a good actress.

You quietly sucked in a breath as her fingers graced the fabric covering your pussy. How was your clit already throbbing with anticipation.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a long moment before focusing your attention back on the screen, trying to nod and pretend to be an active listener. Larissa’s fingers make it increasingly challenging as she slipped past your panties to gently press against your clit.

It wasn’t your finest work, but you stifle a moan by coughing, causing one of your coworkers to glance at you with a concerned look. You swallow and nod at her, trying your best to seem casual. 

This was anything but casual. Larissa’s talented fingers worked against you. You sucked in your bottom lip, your hand gripping the edge of the table. You tried to stop yourself, but you glance over to Larissa who looks incredibly pleased with herself, still watching the presentation intently. She even had her chin in her hand to seem more intrigued.

Your breathing began to quicken, and you swallowed, trying to get a grip on yourself. Larissa knew just what you liked, the exact pattern and speed in which to massage your clit. God you were getting closer. You took a deep breath, holding it in, hoping to stave off the orgasm for a bit longer.

You thought hard about the situation. How hot it was that Larissa was about to make you cum in front of all these people. How she would probably fuck you senseless afterwards in the bathroom attached to her office.

With that, you finally toppled over the edge. Your whole body tensed, and your eye’s squeezed shut involuntarily. You tried to regain your composure, hoping no one was noticing your off behavior. 

Larissa’s hand fell away from your dripping sex and you dared to glance at her once again. Her fingers were at the entrance to her mouth, her tongue tasting you.

You let out a silent deep breath, moving your eyes back to the presentation. A few moments later, you saw your phone dimly light up, and you read the text on the screen. It was from Larissa.

I’ll need to see you in my office afterwards for a chat. 

i did this last night half asleep so 'm sorry for the quality and everything but please, could someone, ANYONE on this platform write the filthiest, roughest, sweatiest smut ever written with this woman as the big star of it? please please please please i'm really on the verge of insanity for the non-existent content. she's the perfect muse for something like that. and i'm indeed desperate.

How do you politely tell someone that you want them naked on top of you

✨️🎀 Santa, Baby 🎀✨️

✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️

Hi friends! This is a fic I've been working on since the first trailer of Violent Night was released and I couldn't get this idea out of my brain! It's my first time posting my writing, so be nice but feedback is always welcome! I haven't seen the movie yet, so some stuff may not be cannon but that's OK! I wanted to share with my fellow Santa Harbour Hohohos for Christmas. There's a bit more plot to this than meets the eye, so if you like it let a hohoho know!

🎀 Fem Bimbo!reader x Harbour Claus 🎀

❗️ !!!!!!!!!18+, minors DNI!!!!!!!! ❗️

Cw: ✨️ lots of cheesy Christmas puns, it's overall a fun story not to be taken seriously ✨️Age gap technically? (i mean, he's santa. He's old) ✨️Fingering ✨️ oral (m receiving) and p & v unprotected. (Wrap it up! W a bow 🎀 ) size kink✨️semi public sex but also not really? Santa can get down in the alley way too ✨️ short but sweet and naughty ✨️

I think that's it! enjoy!

✨️ Part 2

🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀

"Twas the was the night before Christmas, and all through the mall, every store was closing, with only two customers fights over a bombshell bra.

All the mall elves, and reindeer were released without care, myself knowing damn well the bar down the street will have every Saint Nicholas there...." Were the silly words you sang to yourself as you made your way to that exact bar after locking up your store.

You had gotten off of your last shift as Mrs. Claus at Victoria Secret for the season and  most nights you'd head home to change before a drink, but tonight was Christmas Eve and you loved the holidays. Besides, the pink satin Mrs. Claus dress and matching hat deserved more attention, and so did you.

You sat at the edge of the bar, waiting for the bar tender to notice you and take your order. It only took about 10 minutes before a beer you didn't order was pushed in front of you, the bar tender pointing to the skinny Santa in the back. He shot you a wink  and you smiled sweetly before turning and sipping. A small sigh of relief when he didn't make his way over to talk.

You sat in silence as you watched whatever Christmas movie was playing on the TV. Elves, Santa's and the occasional Mrs. Claus giving you a compliment on your one of a kind Santa dress. The Santa's more than anything, though. Clearly fans of the way your cleavage spilled over the white fur trim of the bust.

"Y'know... she isn't real." A deep voice interrupted you from your beer and Christmas movie, only to be met with yet another large man in a Santa suit who was now sitting next to you. Almost as if he just appeared.

"Excuse me?" You furrowed your brow as you examined the Santa, who looked as though he had poured his own heart into his costume.

He adorned a worn, crimson leather jacket with what looked to be real rabbits fur trim. He wasn't wearing a cheap beard and matching wig, either. His long, curly, silver hair and beard were all his, framing his handsome, warm face. His Santa hat matched the quality of his jacket, and he looked down at you through golden spectacles.

"Mrs. Claus. She isn't real." His chuckle came from his stomach as he smiled at you with round, jolly cheeks. He was the picture perfect Santa and he was also... kinda hot?

"Oh.." You laughed awkwardly, not really knowing how to respond to the man who took his job a little too seriously. Fortunately, you could appreciate a passionate work ethic. Especially when it came to Christmas.

"But if she was, I'd hope she looked a lot like you." He sipped from his own beer, froth tickling the edges of his facial hair before he licked it off. "Not these old, graying depictions I always see of her. Not accurate. I have a type, y'know." He waved his white leather gloved hand dismissively as he gave you a wolfish wink.

"Oh, well.. thank you," You laughed as Jolly Saint Rent a Nick continued to peer at you as he took another sip of his beer. "Too bad Santa isn't either.. if he was, I'd hope he'd look a lot like you." Your flirtation was awkward and clunky as you searched for the words to continue this odd Christmas courtship.

"You don't believe in Santa?" He questioned, seriousness in his gruff tone as his piercing blue eyes examined you.

"Which one?" You laughed as you gestured to the bar full of them before looking back at him to see a wooly silver eyebrow raised. He was not amused.

"The one from the North Pole."

This guy either took his job very seriously or he really thought he was Santa. Hoping the former, you were still down with it. It was Christmas Eve, afterall.

"Oooh, him!" You bopped your forehead, playing along. "Of course. I leave milk and cookies out for him every year! Bake them myself!"

That wasn't a lie.. you actually did. You enjoyed baking and even more so on Christmas eve.

"I know." he stroked his silver beard before continuing. "But you'll be breaking that tradition tonight."

"And how do you know that?" You leaned in, completely immersing yourself in the weird holiday roleplay.

"Well, it's my job to know."

"And Santa knows everything, right?" You looked at him innocently as you adjusted your costume, causing his eyes to wander to the hem of your skirt for only a moment.

"Mhm.."

"So tell me, Santa," You stretched your leg out to run along his pant leg, the quality of the suit further surprising you. "Am I on the naughty or nice list?"

"Please..." he placed his hand on your knee, warmth radiating from his touch, up your thigh. Almost a magical feeling. "Call me Nick."

✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️

And that's exactly what you were aiming on screaming in the back alley of the bar. No time wasted as he hiked up your skirt, careful to not ruin your dress when he yanked your tits out. You heard the jingle of his heavy belt as he opened his Santa suit and revealed a brown buckled leather vest. 'That's new. ' you thought to yourself as you took in this rendition of Santa, digging it.

He removed one of his gloves so he could pull your matching pink panties to the side. A deep shiver through your spine as he slid a finger along your puffy, wet lips. More tingles and shocks running through you from his touch alone. Your back was arching against the cold bricks in seconds once he finished teasing your entrance, slipping two thick and warm fingers into you.

"Nick," you whined as you attempted to spread your legs further, but he halted you with his other strong hand, using it to keep you lifted against the wall. His painfully slow pace sent electricity bolts through you as he enjoyed your warmth.

"When you're wrapped around my fingers like a cute little Christmas bow, you'll call me by my rightful name." He plunged his fingers deep into you, causing your moans to echo in the alleyway. Luckily, masked by the honking horns and traffic happening a few feet and corner away. "What's my name?" He gruffed into your ear as your whimpers caused his dick to twitch against your thigh in his red trousers.

"N-Nick?" You whined in confusion, trying to swivel your hips for more friction but he kept you steady. He shook his head no. "Daddy?" He stopped his fingers and raised his brows as if to say 'really?', pausing the blistering pleasure.

You'd call him anything to start again.

"Please, S-Santa?" You pathetically whined as you bucked your hips into his hand. You couldn't even process how ridiculous you sounded. How needy you acted.

"Good girl. That'll get you back on the nice list." His voice low and pleased as he picked up his pace once more, pulling your twisting orgasm from your core embarrassingly quick. It was as if he already knew the ways to touch you to get you where he needed you to be.  If his fingers could make you feel this good, you couldn't imagine how magical his cock felt.

"Please, Santa. I'll do anything to get back on the nice list." You panted, looking up at him through long lashes and pouting your plump red lips as you recollected yourself.

"Anything?" He gave a bearded smirk as he dropped your hips from the brick wall, guiding you by your cheek to kneel in front of him on the melting snow covered concrete. "Such a good girl." He belowed as he looked down at you in admiration through golden spectacles that almost sparkled in the dark. He pushed down his red trousers, finally allowing himself to be free and you swore your eyes almost popped out of your damn skull. Santa was indeed packing the North Pole.

Without hesitation or instruction, you wrapped your lips around his swollen cock and swirled your tongue along the tip. The faint hint of peppermint filling your tastebuds as you took him in your mouth.  That's when you noted the scent of fir needle and fireball whiskey on his suit the further your nose came in contact. His precum also had a familiar sweet tang you couldn't pin point. He both tasted and smelled of Christmas.

"Like how I taste?" He asked, as if reading your mind and causing a shocked gag to vibrate around him. "Mmh, 'course you do." He stroked your hair knowingly before pushing your mouth down further, careful to listen to your whines as he began to fuck your mouth. "Such a good girl but such a naughty, naughty mouth. What am I gonna do with you?"

You always considered yourself more festive than most, and you loved celebrating the holidays to the fullest extent but this definitely took the fruit cake. This Rent a Nick was kicking up a kink you didn't realize existed, but with each cheesy Christmas line you felt an almost feral lust bubbling in your belly.  The ache between your thighs became almost unbearable when you heard a low, nearly inaudible three syllable chuckle eminate from his barrel chest that quickly turned to grunts the wetter and more desperate your mouth became around him. Your tongue running flat along the thick shaft as you hallowed your cheeks around him.

"Ho, ho, holy shit," He growled before he pulled you away from him by your long hair, nothing but a string of spit connected between you two. You looked up at him with expectant, blown pupils as you waited for his next move.  Your cheeks rosy, lips swollen with makeup filled tears streaming down your cheeks and he loved it.  "Gonna make me cum and it's not even Christmas yet." He chuckled at his own joke as he sucked air between his teeth, recollecting himself.

He helped you up then quickly spun you around to press your bare chest into the cold brick wall, lifting your Santa skirt above your ass and caressing the newly exposed flesh. Every spot he touched radiated a warm, tingle that sent shocks between your legs and manifested into the puddle forming between your thighs. You were initially worried about taking someone so big, but you had no doubt you could now. An almost instinctual need taking over you as you pushed your ass back into his grip.

You threw your head back to look up at him and realized he discarded his glasses and hat, his face no longer light hearted and jolly but stoic and lust filled as he spread your ass cheeks for his own gaze. A snarl passed his lips before he hastily guided himself into you, unable to wait any longer. Almost like it had been too long.

He released a relieved groan into your hair as he towered over you, gloved hands now pressed on either side of your face. He caged you in as he began to rutt slowly, his soft belly pressing against your lower back with each deep stroke.

If you thought his fingers were magic, the way his cock felt inside you was almost reason to pass out. The intense pleasure akin to the twinkle of Christmas lights shot from your center, all the way to your finger tips and toes as pressure began to build inside you.

"D'you believe now?" He huffed against you, his pace picking up with each desperate whimper from your mouth. He couldn't get enough of the sounds you were making.

"Ye-Yes, Santa." You sputtered. "Fuck, Santa! I believe in you-- Oh my god, I believe." Your eyes rolled back the moment you felt his hand snake down between your thighs, the leather of his glove cold against your clit as he began circling. 

"Y'naughty or nice?" He continued, his belt jingling with each movement of his hips. "I think naughty." He hummed knowingly.

"I'm- I'm whatever Santa wants me to be."

"Mmh, Santa's little helper?" He coaxed as he felt his own pressure build in his stomach which only caused fiercer circles on your sensitive bud, resulting in you releasing around him.

"Y-Yes Santa! Fuck me, Santa!" You couldn't stop the words from leaving your mouth as he pistoned you against the wall, continuisly hitting that spot and causing you to gush around him and onto his crimson pants. Your cheeks flushing the moment you realized what happened, not realizing you were even capable of it.

"Oh," he released a low, pleased groan as he looked down between you two and enjoyed the mess you made on him. "That'll get you on the nice list for sure, Sugar." He smacked your ass before he pulled out, spinning you around once more and forcing you back on your knees as he began to stroke himself off into your waiting mouth. "But I think you enjoy the naughty list, don't ya?"

"Mmh, yes Santa. I do, I really do." You licked at the sweetness of his leaky tip, your words spilling him over the edge as he shoved his cock into your mouth and the familiar taste of... eggnog overtook your senses.

"So, so naughty." He groaned as he emptied himself down your throat, his large chest heaving up and down as he looked down at you with admiration once more.

Normally, this look would warrant a slap back to reality after having casual, no strings attached sex but you didn't feel that urge with his gaze. You kinda liked it?

You sucked him clean, not wanting to miss a drop of the sweetness. You stood up, licking your lips and were about to ask him a sarcastic question on how much eggnog a person has to drink in order to taste like him before he cut you off mid thought.

"Same time next year?" He asked hopefully as he buckled his belt and replaced his glasses and hat, reclaiming his Jolly ol'Saint Nick look and the not the sinful gaze he had just moments prior.

"Uh, yeah. Sure thing, 'Santa'." You responded sarcastically, not sure why he was keeping up the act.

"Good, and don't forget the cookies. Also, let up on the nutmeg a little. Last year's cookies were good but, less is more." He kissed the top of your head, leaving you shocked and wordless. How did he know your secret ingredient?

"Wha-"

"Gonna be late for work!" He checked his wrist at an imaginary watch. "See ya next year, Sugar." He winked from behind his glasses.

You thought you were dreaming when, in a literal blink of an eye, he was gone.

Nothing but golden sparkles disapating in the cold air behind him. Before you could process just how he did it, you heard loud hooves clacking against the bar's rooftop and an entire goddamn sleigh and reindeer shot off into the dark sky. The same glittering sparkles twinkling with the stars as he disappeared into the Christmas night. Your giant doe eyes staring dumbfounded into the sky as you realize just what you did with...Santa.

Suddenly, next year couldn't come fast enough. And neither could you.

reading this with cookies and beer is a whole new experience. head over heels 😮‍💨

✨️🎀Santa, Baby🎀✨️

🎀✨️✨️✨️Part 2✨️✨️✨️🎀

❗️❗️MINORS DNI X MATURE CONTENT❗️❗️

A/N: Wow! A lot more people enjoyed part one than I thought would and it means a lot! I just saw Violent Night last night and wanted to wait to write more cause I wanted my Harbour Claus to be a bit more Canon and attitude accurate. There are kiiiind of minor spoilers but nothing major. Just more accurate magic and 'tude. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 🤶🎀

Pairing: Bimbo!Fem Reader x Jealous&Possesive!Harbour Claus.

Summary: You thought things couldn't get any weirder after banging Santa, but they actually did.

Cw: age gap ✨️ thigh riding ✨️  brat taming ✨️ oral (f rec) ✨️ kinda pervy Santa ✨️ slight degradation and praise ✨️ dirty talk w lots of Christmas puns ✨️ a small amount of fluff at the end if you squint ✨️ jealousy and possessiveness ✨️ edging ✨️ Sub & soft Dom dynamic ✨️ slight bondage ✨️ size kink (always)✨️

Part 1

✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️

It's been almost one year and a few men later, and the shocks and tingles you got from last Christmas Eve could not be replicated no matter how many men you went through. You thought maybe that sparkling stranger possibly spiked your drink when you looked away that night, causing you to hallucinate the Santa rendezvous. There's no way you fucked the actual Santa Claus, right?

Hallucination or not, you still found yourself dressing in yet another Mrs. Claus inspired outfit. A black corset and garters, with a white feather trim. Lipstick red, always red. You also decorated your home more than usual, hoping to keep the mood perfect.

Worst case scenario you were surrounded by more tinsel and Christmas lights as you ate your home baked cookies, drinking red wine and watching some Christmas movies by yourself. No one would know you basically set up a Christmas Eve date and no one would know if you got stood up by Father Christmas, so... why not?

What did you have to lose, besides your sanity? You kissed that goodbye when you saw Santa flying into the night last year.

You hummed along to 'Last Christmas' by Wham! As you poured yourself a glass of red wine, waiting for your cookies to finish in the oven and swaying your hips to the festive music. Truth be told, you were fantasizing about what happened Last Christmas and were hoping it was all real just so you could feel that magic once more.

You finished your glass of wine as 'Santa, Baby' By Eartha Kitt began to play and you couldn't help yourself from singing along to it. You checked your imaginary watch and there was only 2 more hours left of Christmas eve. Still no hooves clacking on your roof. You felt small disappointment, but knew the entire thing was crazy. Maybe it really was just a spiked beer and a Mall Santa?

Butwhat if it wasn't, would he be able to feel you start to disbelieve? Would that make him show up? How the hell did any of this work!?

You downed one more wine glass before grabbing your Christmas ovenmitts and pulling the cookies from the oven, still singing along to 'Santa, Baby' as you did.

"Think of all the fun I've missed," you sang to yourself as you headed toward the kitchen island to place the cookies. "Think of all the fellas that I've haven't kissed." You danced your shoulders back and forth as you made your way, your focus in the music and making sure the cookies were safe. "Next year I could be just as good, if you check off my Christmas list."

"That's reindeer shit and y'know it." A deep voice vibrated behind you which made you instantly snap around on your black booted heels only to be met with a much less cheerful face than you remembered. "Kissed a whole lotta fellas this year."

"Oh, jesus christ!" You shouted, trying not to drop the cookie tray.

"Nope, just Jolly ol' St. Nick." He stood proudly, no sign of jolly anywhere.

"Well.. fuck. Guess I'm not crazy..." You searched for the words as you set the cookies on the island and removed your ovenmits, looking up at him as his blue eyes peered back at you from over his glasses.

"Crazy? No. Naughty? Yes." He stepped forward with a heavy black boot, removing both his hat and glasses and discarding them on the island so you could get a better look into his eyes. "Very, very naughty." He squinted, no sign of cheer in his face anywhere.

"I- well, I wasn't sure if what happened was real!" You defended yourself, fearing he really did know everything.

"Mmh," he grabbed your hips, tugging you against his chest as he searched your face for any sort of remorse for your festivities this past year. "On top of being a bad girl, you're losing faith too?" 

"No! I mean-" You looked down at yourself then back up at him with a cocked eyebrow, as if to say 'really?'. "I don't dress this way for imaginary creatures, do I?"

"More lies, huh?" A low, three syllable, sarcastic chuckle left his bearded lips. "You love dressing up."

"Well, not like this!" You wriggled from his gloved grasp as you stepped back, ready to do a twirl to show off the outfit you picked specifically for him.

Before you could finish your turn, he grabbed your hands and pulled them behind you, bringing your back against his chest as he held your wrists firmly. Even though he was holding back, you could tell he was otherworldly strong. He examined your profile as he enjoyed your helplessness against him, his breath wreaking of peppermint schnapps.

Was he jealous? Why did you have a nagging feeling something was wrong? And why did you enjoy this shift mood from the Santa you met last year?

"You've been a very bad girl this year." His breath was hot against your neck as he pulled your curled hair to the opposite side, enjoying the sweet smell of fresh baked cookies on you.

"Have I?" You asked innocently, pushing your ass back into his crotch but it only caused him to tighten his grip on your wrists.

"Very bad. I waited a very long time for you..." You felt something snake around your wrists and it was plasticy? "Why didn't you wait for me, Sugar?" He finished his question with a firm knot of holographic tinsel around your wrists, making effective Holiday handcuffs.

As much as you enjoyed this, you couldn't help but notice the edge in his voice. A nagging part of you picking up on his every emotion, completely confused on why any of that even mattered when all you wanted was him touching you again. He wouldn't be as hasty to do that like last time, though. He intended on making you wait, just like he had.

"I tried, Santa. I did but," again, lost for words as your mind became hazy with lust.

"But what? You wanted that feeling back?"

"Y-Yes!" You sputtered, thankful for the way he seemed to know what you were thinking.

"And none of 'em could do what I do, huh?" He removed his glove just to trail his fingertip along your now exposed neck, a trail of tingles forming in the wake of your goosebumps. His touch truly was magical, and you were finally confident in thinking that.

"No.." You said in embarassment as you craned your neck to the side, allowing his fingertips to graze your jaw before he grabbed it firmly to turn you around and force you to look up at him. Even in your tallest heels, he towered over you. "Had better luck humping my pillow." You pouted, batting your lashes.

"Yeah, you did." He said confidently, a sneer in his voice.

"I mean, it gets the job done." You shrugged.

"Mmh," he stepped backwards before turning on his boot into the living room and making himself at home on the couch next to your lit up pink Christmas tree near your fireplace. "Come sit on Santa's lap and show him how it's done, Sugar." He spread his powerful thighs, patting the specific one he wanted you to straddle as he opened up and removed his jacket, then all layers under besides his brown overalls that hung on his massive, broad shoulders.

You tried to play off the shock on your face when you saw the muscles hidden under soft skin as he did, but more shocking were the tattoos and scars that decorated his chest and shoulders. Why was he so scarred up?

An instant flush over your cheeks the moment you processed what he was asking, and he reveled in it. He loved everything you did, but something about you feigning flustered innocence while knowing you were everything but really got him going.

"Bring a cookie while you're at it." He added, that wolfish smirk never leaving his lips as you tried to figure out how to grab a cookie with bound wrists. You quickly figured that out too and your flush only deepened from pink to red.

And like the good girl you were trying to prove yourself to be, you dipped your head down to gently bite a cookie between your teeth and made your way to him. A proud twinkle in his eye as you did, reaching for the cookie and placing it in his own lips. 

"Atta girl." He said as he removed both gloves, cookie still between teeth as he did.

You took note of what looked to be a wedding ring, remembering his words last year about Mrs. Claus not existing. Before you could question any part of the shedded layers, tattooes, scars and even ring, he yanked your hips down to straddle his thigh. He sat back into the sofa languidly, splaying his arms out as he took another bite of the cookie.

"Oh--hohoho. That's the good stuff. You listened." His cheeks perking up when he tasted the cookie, running his hand up and down your thigh lazily as he enjoyed both of his snacks. "They're perfect." He praised as he forced your hips to ground into his thigh, a gasp dropping from your lips when he did. His tone confident and casual, as if he wasn't forcing you to ride his thigh just to prove a point.

"Just because I was bad doesn't mean I didn't think about you." You tightened your thighs around his, suppressing a moan the moment you officially stabilized your core over what felt like steel.

"That so?" He actually sounded shocked.

"Well, you tell me. Don't you know everything?" You asked with a little spunk, a roll of your hips on his thigh when you did and a whimper to show for it.

"I see everything." He shot you a look that revealed how much he saw this year. "I don't know everything. Not a damn mind reader, Sugar. Who do you think I am, Jesus?"

"Coulda fooled me." You pouted, trying to hide the neediness forming between your legs but you just had so many questions you needed answered.

"Let's just say," he placed the half eaten cookie between his lips as he raised a hand to stroke a thumb across your cheek bone. "I know you better than y'know yourself, Sugar."

"And how long have you been watching me exactly, Santa?" He started to rock your hips back and forth, impatient with how long you were taking, your breath catching as you attempted to keep your composure to continue your investigation.

He just looked up at you with the smirk never leaving his face, cookie between lips and shook his head as if to say 'better luck next year' then sat back once more to finish his cookie.

"Really? That's your answer?"

"Less talkin', more humpin'."  He instructed as he pressed his thigh into you. "We don't got all night, Sugar. You want your gift, don't you?"

His purposeful aloofness was starting to get on your nerves but the moment he pressed into you and you felt those familiar shocks, your mind instantly went hazy.

He was right. You didn't have all night, and time with him was limited.

"I'm not done questioning you. I just," you whined as you rolled your hips, the fabric of your panties becoming an annoying, wet barrier. "I just really need to get off before you dissapear for another year."

"I know, Sugar. Y'just not too good at doing two things at once when I'm around." He cooed, jest in his sentence as he waited for your response.

You scrunched your brow and nose as you stood up from his lap, your wrists straining against the tinsel.

"Panties off." You demanded.

"Look at her, using words." He finished his cookie before he reached forward and tugged down your panties to help you step out of them. "'Bout time, gonna be needing another snack soon."

You sat back down over the already formed wet spot on his thigh and bit your lower lip to stiffle another moan, but it was no use. Instantly you went back to rocking your hips, the cloth of his pants feeling so much better than any stuffie, pillow or man ever could. Your wrists strained as you wished you could grip his broad shoulders for anchorage. 

"Not fucking fair." You whined as you hung your head back in frustration. 

"What's that?" He continued with that low, sultry, casual tone as he watched you struggle.

"Wanna touch you." You clasped your thighs tighter, the fabric not entirely being enough as you rocked desperately. "Want you to touch me."

He hummed and purposefully put his hands behind his head, pleased to hear how desperate you were. It didn't help that his biceps flexed as he did while his hard dick proudly strained against his trousers, only making your need worse. "That's only for good girls, and you were very bad." 

"Please, I'm a good girl." You begged, your hips moving faster as you searched for what you've been chasing all year on his muscular thigh. "I am! Please..."

"Prove it."

He reached down to free his cock from his trousers, slowly stroking up and down with a tight fist. He was punishing you for being bad and this didn't make you want to be a good girl. You felt frustration bubble where pleasure should have been, despite enjoying your own view.

"H-How was I supposed to know that you'd be watching like.. like some dirty old man?" A whimper between your words as you struggled to finish your sentence. "Pr-probably touched yourself just like this the whole time too!" You successfully got out as you watched his fist pump a little faster from your berating.

The thought of him doing this when checking in on you making the tension in your stomach tighten as you watched him. A deep moan as you started to feel yourself throb against his thigh.

He definitely did watch.

"Tsk, tsk." He tutted. "Only a bad girl would say such things." His tone was stern, but the grip on his now leaking cock was giving away just how much he liked it. This was the reaction he was looking for. He knew you were a brat, and he wanted it.

"And what if I am a bad girl, Santa?" You leaned back, bound wrists grabbing his knee to try and give him a nice view of your soaked cunt as you spread your thighs, batting innocent lashes at him with your chin dipped down. Now it was his turn to supress a groan as his heavy lidded eyes fluttered momentarily before reconnecting to your core then your innocent face. "Will Santa punish me?"

He snarled to himself as he removed his hand reluctantly from his hard on, replacing the tinsel between his grip. For a moment you thought he was going to take the restraint off.

You were quickly proven wrong when he instead just used it as an anchor to move you on his thigh the way he wanted. This was for his pleasure, not yours. And he wanted to remind you of that. You whined again as you watched as what you yearned for so badly lay neglected against his soft stomach, the sweetness you craved leaking in his belly button when it should have been down your throat.

This was your punishment.

"Wanna taste you so bad." You whimpered, chasing your orgasm that waited meakly in your tummy as you imagined sucking on him like a candy cane.

Sure, his thigh felt great, magic and all when he felt like using it but he knew exactly what you wanted. His dick twitched against his stomach as he enjoyed your whining and begging, not letting up on moving you on his thigh.

"Does Santa's little helper need some help?" He chuckled, ever so amused by his own jokes as his hot breath fanned your face. He smelled of your cookies and alcohol now, and as ashamed as you were to think it, you enjoyed the cheesy Christmas lines. Just those words edged you closer.

"This would be so, so much easier if I was on," your sentence broke with a moan as you raked your brain for anything to get him into touching you. "On y-your Sugar stick."

That got the iconic laugh out of him, his dick slapping against his stomach with each syllable and you could feel your mouth drooling.

"Sugar, don't you think you had enough of that this year?" His words a reminder of why you were being punished in the first place. "S'cute when you struggle to cum. Tell Santa, did you pretend they were him?" The more he spoke, the closer you felt yourself getting. His voice like spiced whiskey as he spoke inches from your face.

"Y-Yes!" Your knees pressed into his leg as you panted. "But it was no use! They kept fuckin' talkin' and none of it--" your sentence trailed off into a feeble moan as your mind became clouded the moment he wrapped his free hand around his cock once more, enjoying your confession.

"None of it filled you with Christmas cheer, huh?" He squeezed the head of his dick, letting the precum drip down which only made you more flustered.

"Oh, Santa..." You hummed his name as you felt your stomach clench, the words now easily forming in your head. "I wanna be filled with a whole lot more than your Christmas Cheer."

He let out a grunt through his nose, his own stomach flexing as abs hidden under soft skin made their debut. The nights of seeing you with other men and jerking himself off took their toll as he spilled all over his fist and stomach, his chest heaving heavily with each spurt. That was all you needed to find your own release, wishing all of his sweetness wasn't wasted on him and instead, inside of you.

"Fuck, fuck!" You ground your hips as he continued to guide you, still slowly stroking himself as he watched you with slack jawed lust.

"C'mon, Sugar. Give Santa his present." His voice husky and breathy in your ear. His hand was still behind your back, guiding your now jagged moving hips, keeping your pace for you.

You were already unwrapping the moment he used the nickname you've come to love, your mouth falling open as you tried to call his name but only whimpers being formed as the coil in your stomach finally broke. The past year of pent up sexual frustrations, the worst edging in existence and lack of Santa finally snapping.

"Good girl." He praised into your hair once you finished and collapsed into his chest, grateful for how comfy he was and the much needed praise you were looking for. "My good girl." 

You sat against his chest for a moment as you caught your breath. You waited for him to finally release your restraints and give you your present but he didn't have that in mind.  He swept you up from the couch and laid you down where he sat, tinsel restraints and all.

You were about to protest, frustrated you weren't able to grip his shoulders when he slotted down between your legs and ran his tongue flat against your slick. A low hum came from him as he tasted you and placed your legs on his shoulders.

"Hm, hm, hmmm.." He vibrated against you as his tongue lapped for a moment before he continued. "No point in cookies if y'can't have milk."

Even that one almost got a giggle out of you, but was quickly replaced with a whine as he sucked your clit into his mouth and circled his tongue. His long beard tickled your inner thighs and he kept glancing up at you, loving the pretty view of you being spent and overstimulated just for him. He couldn't help himself when he grew hard again, and he couldn't stop from stroking his cock while he enjoyed his favorite snack. You just tasted so sweet.

It only took him adding two fingers into you to cause you to once again unwrap around him, eyes rolling back and soaking his facial hair when you did. The combination of his view, you squirting on his face and the things you were cursing under your breath was all he needed to once again cum all over his fist, hips bucking as he growled against your core and continued to lap at the sweetness despite your overstimulated whimpers, enjoying himself too much.

Once he finished, he stood up to reach over and under you, lifting you up to so he can undo the tinsel. It took you by surprise when he leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips, your heart jumping for a moment before you were even more shocked to taste yourself. Why the hell did you actually taste like milk?!

It was almost like he had kissed you just to show you.

He deepened the kiss just briefly when he felt you tense up with realization, his palm rubbing gentle circles on the small of your back before seperating and freeing your wrists in one go.

"Looks like I ain't the only one who tastes good'round here." His smile was wide, as if something had just been confirmed for him and that jolly, warm look flooded his face once more.

His red cheeks returned as he licked his mustache and ran a hand over his beard. He picked up your almost boneless body and sat down on the couch, placing you back on his lap and holding you against his chest. Your mind no longer hazy, and the confusion from your own taste was quickly placed with another question you had as you stretched and rubbed your wrist.

"Where the hell is my present!?" You hit his chest, which felt like a break wall.

"Ooh," he rubbed where you hit as if to play hurt for a moment. "Got a swing on you, huh?" His sarcasm was palpable but you weren't biting.

"Where is my present, old man?" You raised your brow expectantly.

"You're not getting that present this year. That's for good girls and you've been very, very bad."  He sat back against the couch and put his hand lazily on your hip. "You'll get a present, though."

Your eyes widening when you realized you were still being punished and he really wasn't going to fuck you this year. Not till you learned your lesson and understood you were his good girl.

"So what do I get then.  Coal?" You retorted sarcastically as you crossed your arms over your chest, still breathing heavily.

"Trust me," he chuckled lowly, enjoying your spunkiness. "Y'don't want coal." He warned.

"I have," you grabbed his hand that had the silver ring and picked it up. You examined the inscriptions with a suspicious eye and then looked back at the tattoos and deep, welted scars on the man in red as he enjoyed what short moments you both had till work called. "So many questions."

"And maybe one day, if you're a good girl, you'll get answers." He pulled his hand from your grip with ease and brushed your unruly hair behind your ear.  He caressed your cheek before reluctantly sitting up with you in his arms and a groan. "It's about that time, Sugar."

"What? No! It's," you lifted your wrist to check your imaginary watch and whined loudly when you realized he was right. 5 minutes till midnight. "Fuuuuuuuuck." You pouted, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, thinking that would keep him there. 

"I know, I know." He watched your wrist with narrow eyes and a small knowing smile before embracing you back, his arms tight around your waist. Careful not to hurt you, knowing his own strength. 

He turned around to lay you back down on the couch before he reached for his shirt, vest and jacket to redress for the rest of the night.

"What about my present?" You yawned, reaching down to remove and kick off your boots as sleep threatened to creep in and take what little time you two had left.

"Don't y'know how Christmas works?" He said as he grabbed his empty looking toysack and reached in, his arm almost dissapearing for a moment before he pulled out a pink wrapped package and opening it for you. A soft, baby pink blanket with a matching pillow in it. He laid it across your body and the pillow under your head.

"When y'wake up, it'll be under the tree. But not a damn second sooner." He said, making sure to let you know it was coming and these weren't your gifts. His eyes soft as he kissed the top of your head before standing up and looking for his hat and glasses, remembering they were by the cookies.

You watched as he made his way back but not without shoving almost all of them in his pocket and one in his mouth, mumbling to himself about "your cookies have always been my favorite" and how much he "missed cookies like these".

He didn't realize you could hear and weren't completely asleep just yet. Fortunately,  you weren't lucid enough to process it and your head was already spinning from your orgasms and the mystery that surrounded this gruffer version of Santa than the one you once believed in.

"Santa?" You said tiredly, your eyes struggling to stay open.

"Yeah, Sugar?" He reached over to you to tuck the blanket in, waiting for your words before he left.

"M'gonna miss you."

"I know, Sugar." He stroked your hair.

"Of course you do." You yawned as you looked at him with heavy eyes. "It's your job to know."

He smiled warmly at you quoting one the first things he said when you first met.

"Gonna miss you too, Sugar. See y'next year." He stood up, heading near the fireplace. "Be a good girl." He warned before he pressed his pointer finger to his nostril. Flames and golden sparkles completely enveloped him and a flame filled glittery haze zoomed up the chimney.

In an instant, he was gone.

Not soon after, sleep had won the battle as you knocked out next to your lit Christmas tree and fireplace burning, not even processing the hooves running off your rooftop. One the the most peaceful sleeps to follow before you woke up the next morning to Santa's present.

The fireplace was no longer burning and your Christmas tree's lights were turned off when you woke up. Nothing but one lone, holographic wrapped present under your tree waiting for you with a pink envelope.

You pulled yourself from the couch and rushed to the tree, feeling giddy to see just what you got. You placed the card gently to the side before ripping open the wrapping paper and opening the box to find bright red, classic Mrs. Claus baby doll lingerie and matching hat. Hidden under the lacy red clothes lay a black walkie talkie. That's when your attention was turned to the card that was signed 'Love, Santa' in script. You opened it slowly, eyes widening when you read it.

"Call me."

At home by donslens.