Violent Night - Tumblr Posts

Damn, can’t believe Bruno Madrigal tried to kill Santa…

let me suck on that big candy cane

VIOLENT NIGHT (2022) | Official Trailer

TIME TO LET IT SNOW FUCK YEAH i bet it tastes sweet like christmas cookies or candy canes <3

Father Daddy Christmas Thot…

Violent Night smut, (David Harbour as) Santa Claus smut, quickie because it’s late, PS: I’m having too much fun with these…

18 +

Explicit, smutty blurb ahead ₍⁽ˊᵕˋ⁾₎❆

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“Tell me where you want your present, Kitten.” Santa slammed into your guts again and stayed there, buried to his pubes inside you, stretching you to capacity. His breath was quick, heavy, and hot on your neck.

“…On my back,” you moaned. Santa pulled out of your cunt and pushed you forward onto your stomach. He positioned himself so that his cock was lined up roughly with your spine, then wrapped a big, white-gloved hand around his girth. “Time to let it snow…” he growled, and with a few more pumps, he released his orgasm onto you, coating your back in a spray of warm, glistening, festive cum…

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There’s a place in Hell waiting for me, thanks for asking. ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

i mean c'mon.

David Harbour as Santa Claus in Violent Night (2022) dir. Tommy Wirkola

i mean...

neither david harbour nor santa claus have ever been more fuckable than in violent night

now i need to find out first hand

Real talk though, if Santa’s tongue is talented enough to whittle a candy cane to a point that quickly, imagine what he could do to my pussy??? 🫦💁🏻‍♀️

i love this song so much just because david is all over my fyp with it

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."

so unfair

🎀Santa, Baby🎀

🎀part 3🎀

✨️walkie talkie whimpers ✨️

❗️ 18+ MINORS DNI ❗️MATURE CONTENT❗️

Part 1

Part 2

Summary: Who said you can't teach an old dog new tricks? Santa's a fast learner.

Pairing: Bimbo!Reader x Sleepy!Santa

A/N: this one contains a lil more spoilers so if you haven't seen the movie yet, please do! But you've been warned. Another short, sweet but naughty one. enjoy, y'filthy animals 💋

Cw: age gap ✨️ voice kink ✨️ using walkie talkies for naughty  ✨️ mutual masturbation ✨️ dirty talks w Christmas puns, always ✨️ violent night spoilers ✨️ edging ✨️

🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀✨️🎀

"Santa?" You called into the walkie talkie, hoping this time he'd finally pick up but once more hearing nothing but that damn white noise.

It wasn't the first time you called since last Christmas, but at no point had he picked up. You really thought for a moment he gave you a broken gadget, feeling silly everytime you called his name into the void. You figured, hoped, he was just working in the workshop and not ignoring you. You had been so good so far, rejecting every advance and flirtation in hopes of getting your true present, there's no way he could be ignoring you. Right?

"Santa!" You sighed in frustration, slapping your thigh as you threw yourself back on your bed. "Hello?!?" You were determined to get his attention tonight. It had been six months since you last saw him and you were missing his voice more than anything.

"Why the fuck would you give me a broken fucking toy." You mumbled to yourself before clicking the walkie talkie to send your last message to get lost in the static.

"Tell your elves to pick up the goddamn slack, they're giving you broken toys, Nikamund." You rolled your eyes before tossing the broken black box at the edge of your bed.

You sat there, the pillow he gave you last year under your head as you grimaced angrily. The ache between your legs was becoming unbearable but you wanted to be good, for him. You were his good girl, and you were set on proving it. You needed your gift this year so badly it almost hurt.

Suddenly you heard static before a crackle coming from the peice of junk. You sat up, crawling to the edge of the bed and grabbed it, hopefully waiting.

"Hello?" You called.

Nothing but more crackling.

You felt like that little girl again, trying desperately to prove to her bullies that he was real, only for them to laugh and crush your toy on the asphalt. White noise and static taunted you as you rolled your eyes once more, winding up to throw the damn thing at the wall.

"Sugar?" A drowsy, familiar voice rung through the static.

Your eyes flew open as you fidgeted with the black box before clicking the button, "Santa?"

"What'd y'just call me?" He sounded exhausted.

"Nicholas?" You pulled your comforter over you as you snuggled into bed, laying your head back on his pillow and keeping the walkie talkie near your chest. "I called you Nicholas."

"Sure 'bout that?" He questioned, voice heavy.

"Uh.. yeah? Is your name not St. Nicholas? Remember? At the bar you were all like, 'Please, call me Nick'--"

"Slow down, Sugar." He gruffed into the speaker, the sound of him rubbing sleep from his eyes as his bed creaked. "Just woke up." he chuckled quietly, his familiar laugh making you smile.

"You sleep?" You poked, not being able to stop your questions.

"Yeah," you heard a groan as he rolled over. "Yeah, of course I sleep." You couldn't get enough of his low, raspy tone and he was amused by your curiosity.

Truth is, no one really cared about him nor who was for a very long time. Not like they used to. The naughty list and non-believers grew more and more each year, and though he didn't show you, it affected him.

"M'not an angel. I need sleep too."

"Well, then... What are you?" You turned over in your bed to stare at the ceiling, gripping the walkie talkie agianst your chest as if it would vanish.

"A man with a whole lotta magic he doesn't really know how to use."

"So, you are a man? ..Are you immortal?"

"Of course I'm a man. Thought I made that much clear."  A groggy below interrupting his words. "I am a man, but not immortal. Think I can die, but not willing to test that theory out."

"How old are you?" You spoke quietly, childhood curiosity peaking through.

"Much older than you. Sometimes, even I forget." 

You bit your lip as you contemplated your next question, taking advantage of the vulnerability his drowsiness brought, but you had so many questions and such little time.

"Hello?" He called out, not sure if you'd been cut off.

"Have you been ignoring me?" You squeaked.

His iconic chuckle, though much slower and tired than usual, rung through the speakers and bounced off your walls.

"No. Just have alotta work to get done if I wanna see you Christmas Eve." He reassured. "I keep the walkie talkie near my bed. Connections are shit 'cause'a snow storms, but I would never ignore you. Was in bed when I heard my name."

"So Nicholas is your real name?"

"It's one of 'em..." he trailed off, finger still on the button as he searched for his next words. "It's late near you. What're you still doing up?" He rumbled, changing the subject.

"Talking to you... and, I c-can't sleep."

"You okay?"

"No... well, yes but no." You struggled, feeling embarrassed, a flush creeping over the bridge of your nose. It was so much easier talking to him face to face about this. "I've been a really good girl, Santa."

"I know." He mused, understanding what you were getting at. "A very good girl."

"Am I going to get my present this year?"

"Y'know the answer to that."

"Wanna hear you say it." You cooed as you got an idea, now leading the conversation where you wanted it as you removed your tank top. "If I keep being a good girl, am I gonna be rewarded? I was punished last year and," you scooted up to lean back against the headboard, spreading your thighs under your blanket. "I don't think that was very nice list of you."

"Good thing I do the list makin' then, huh?"

"If I could make lists, you'd be at the top of my naughty list." You playfully warned.

"Careful what y'wish for, Sugar."

"Ooh, worried I'll punish you like you did me?" You teased, loosening the knotted ribbon on your pajama shorts. "Is it true you can really see me right now?"

"Seeing isn't the right word. I can't really see you." You heard his voice grow husky as he continued. "I just... know. Sometimes."

"Do you know what I'm doing right now?" You said as you relaxed against your headboard, snaking a hand under your shorts and dragging gentle fingertips over your clothed cunt, biting your lip as you felt the now forming wetness on your center.

"Being naughty..." His voice sunk to a sultry tone, vibrating through the speakers and between your legs.

"I'm always naughty according to you." You giggled quietly, slipping your hand past the fabric. Your fingertips brushed against your throbbing clit in slow circles, the heaviness in his voice finally getting to you. "But what am I doing?"

This was all part of your investigation into the man in red. Testing to see what he can do. If he didn't wanna open up, you'd make him. Test him. 

"Well... You just slipped your hand into your panties. Probably gonna toy with your cookie cause y'like the way m'voice sounds right now." He paused. You whimpered to yourself, his words making your legs spread further as you heard him rustle in his sheets. "Y'know, I didn't give you these walkie talkies with the intent on you being naughty."

"Do you want me to stop, Santa?" You feigned innocent as you continued to circle your fingers. 

"No." He grunted.

"Good, I don't wanna end up back on the naughty list. I need my present this year." You felt your own breathing hitch as you sped up your pace, flutters flowing through your pussy.

"You'll get it, Sugar." He promised, answers short, sweet, and you had an idea why.

"Santa, what are you doing right now?" You asked innocently as you ran your finger between your slick folds. "Are you being naughty too?"

"Yeah..." he sighed heavily.

You knew he had his own hand down his pants, waiting patiently for your sugar coated words to aid him in the pump of his fist. You knew he was enjoying this, probably more than you were from his short, jagged replies. You could hear it in the breathy rumbles of his chest each time his feed came through. You contiued to rub soft circles on your clit, finding pangs of pleasure in the fact he knew exactly what you were doing on the other side of your call. That his tired, raspy voice caused a mess between your legs and that was all it took. That he was doing the same.

You removed your hand from between your legs momentarily, kicking down your comforter and pulling down your panties with your shorts in one swift movement.

"Mm, good..." You hummed proudly, sliding two of your fingers in your mouth and sucking loudly on them before returning your hand between your legs. "Have you ever had phone-- I mean, walkie talkie sex before?"

"S'that what this is called?" The vulgar sound of him spitting into his palm and lazily lubing his cock up and down sent a twinkle of excitement through you as he panted gently into the speaker. He disconnected soon after, adapting quickly to the game of naughty walkie talkie tag.

"Yes..." You whimpered into the speakers, pleased with his answer. "Santa?" You purred, lips brushing against the cool plastic. You sunk two fingers into your cunt, spreading them as you began to pump slowly, your wetness detectable in the background when saying his name.

"Yeah?" His breathing deep and rhythmic as he waited on your every word.

"Wish my cookie was wrapped around your chimney right now and not my fingers." You cooed bashfully, making sure he heard your whines and the slick pump of your cunt before you disconnected.

"Mmh," A pleased, groggy groan that made your ears ring and toes curl. "You've been practicing." You could hear the smile in his voice.

"Told you," you sighed, pressing your palm against your clit as you continued to fuck into yourself. The only sounds in your room were that of your wetness and needy moans. "I'm a good girl. Your good girl."

You heard a click then him mutter 'fuck' to himself as the soft, wet claps of his balls hitting against his big fist became audible. You couldn't help but curl your fingers into your spongey walls, wishing so badly he was next to you and not across the globe.

"Sugar," he panted into the speaker with grit in his jaw. "Grab your pillow for me. The one I gave you last year."

You sat up quickly, placing the walkie talkie down momentailry so you can replace your fingers with the pillow. You pulled your sports bra off, now completely naked as you straddled the cushion. You moaned his name, forgetting to click the button as your cunt made contact with the fabric. You couldn't help but rock your hips, closing your eyes and imagining the corner of the soft pillow was his tongue, his thigh, his anything.

"I know what you're doing. Can't hear what you're doing." His grunting boomed through the speakers, interrupting your euphoria as he huffed through his nostrils. "Need t'hear your sweet sounds, Sugar."

You leaned over the pillow, humping greedily as you clicked the button, granting him access into the moans, whimpers and murmured whispers of his name that bounced between your walls and spurred him on.

You babbled incoherently about how badly you needed his cock, that you'd been missing it for nearly two years and you'd do anything to stay on the nice list this year. The feeling between your thighs urged more panting, you were so close to your peak. You released the button, just needing to hear him to get you there.

"Shit," His grunts echoed through the speakers acompanied by the slick sounds of him vigorously twisting his wrist up and down his cock. You could tell from his labored breathing he was close too. "Sugar, I wis--"

His words cut off by the taunt of that god for-fucking-saken white static.

"S-Santa?" You stuttered in disbelief into the peice of junk, the jerk of your hips slowing and peak falling pitifully as realization hit.

You called his name a few more times to no avail.

"Nonono, stupid fucking snow, no!" You slapped your hand against the black box, hoping to get connected to him again.

You rolled off the pillow, your thighs sticky with with dissapoinment as you kept calling into the damn thing, anger rising where your climax was lost.

Nothing.

The storm had won.

And so had the wind up of your fist as you angrily and thoughtlessly slammed the hunk of junk against the wall, smashing it. Instant regret to follow.

Christmas had never seemed so far away before.

MORE GIFS OF MY MAN FUCKKDLWKRLWJF

David Harbour as Santa Claus Violent Night (2022) dir. Tommy Wirkola

DAVID HARBOUR as Santa Claus in Violent Night (2022)

i felt the christmas spirit in my whole body while reading this in the middle of march and i can't mdkfkwxlsjdk

✨️❤️ Santa, Baby❤️✨️

✨️ Part 4 ✨️

✨️mistletoe missin' you✨️

❗️ 18+ MINORS DNI X MATURE CONTENT ❗️

Part 1

Summary:  You warned him about your naughty list, but he didn't believe you.

A/N: I got in my own emotions with this one a little bit. As always, there are Violent Night spoilers so if you've not seen yet, nows the time! It's Christmas eve! Anyway, thank you for reading and enjoying. It's a lil longer than usual 💋 ❤️ Merry Christmas.

Pairing: Bimbo!reader x (kinda) Romantic!Santa

Cw:  size kink ✨️ age gap ✨️ oral f rec ✨️ fingering ✨️ Dom & sub dynamic w a twist ✨️ some romancing ✨️ multiple orgasms ✨️ rough sex ✨️ praise kink ✨️ violent night spoilers ✨️ dumbification ✨️body worship✨️roleplay ✨️ mischievous use of a Mistletoe ✨️ p I v unprotected ✨️ cream pie ✨️ fluff ehe ✨️

❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️

You stood on black stiletto boots as you reached up in the doorway seperating your kitchen and living room, trying your damnest to pin the mistletoe above your head as Mariah Carrey's 'When Christmas comes' played. Your body adorned in the classic Mrs. Claus babydoll lingerie you were gifted last Christmas from the man himself.

You huffed, giving up and not wanting to pull your shoes off to stand on a chair to do it. Instead you made your way to the blanket and pillow nest you prepared near the fireplace, placing it next to the freshly baked plate of cookies and array of booze. You noted that everytime Santa came, he smelled of whatever alcohol he had been drinking that night so you thought you'd pull out your best liquors for him; red wine for you.

Last year, you weren't sure he'd show or if you were out of your damn mind, but this year you knew. You were prepared. You figured he'd show up 2 hours before Christmas just as he did the past two Christmas eves, but you were ready far before that.

You clicked on the TV, allowing it to silently play with closed captions as you poured yourself a glass of red wine, downing it quickly to fend off the flutters of anticipation in your stomach. You turned your head to watch the movie as you did.

A small "hm, hmm, hmm.." hummed against your closed red lips as you laughed, watching Scott freak out over the white beard that kept growing back in The Santa Claus despite him constantly shaving it. "So silly." You giggled before you reached over to eat one of the cookies, unable to help yourself.

You were interrupted from your movie and snack when you heard an ornament fall from the Christmas tree, bouncing against the wooden floor. You sighed and rolled your eyes, not realizing what had caused it to fall due to the Christmas music. You reached under the tree, grabbing the silver ball and standing to place it toward the top of the tree like it had been previously. You stretched your arms, the lace of your babydoll dress slipping up over the curve of your ass as you kicked your leg out for balance.

You felt a warm rush come from the fireplace. You turned your head over your shoulder, a sweet, knowing smile on your face as the flames and glitter faded and his large body appeared from the midst of it. He fixed his hat and focused his eyes on you, a matching smile directed back at you as he drank your image in like a glass of milk. "Well.." he hummed, blue eyes running up and down your body. "Merry Christmas to me."

"You're early." You purred before putting your attention back to the ornament, attempting to hook the metal onto the upper branch but dealing with the same issue from the mistletoe.

He stepped behind you, took the ornament from your hands and placed it on the branch with ease. His hands instantly went to your hips and he turned you around so he could get a better view.

"Elves been working hard." He hummed, his thumbs circling your hip bone as his eyes constantly dipped to your outfit then face. Eyes soft, eager and waiting. "You look beautiful."

"You like?" A blush that matched the red dress now creeping over your cheeks as his gaze felt like it was melting you. "You don't think it's like... too cliche?"

He shook his head, fingers toying with the loose fabric at your hip. He couldn't tear his gaze away, like he'd never seen something so mesmorizing in his long life.

You placed a finger into his beard, searching for his jaw and pushing his face up with a confident smile.

"I know I didn't get a chance to sweep yet but you don't need to do it for me." You giggled softly, fingers dancing in the silver. "Jaw off the floor." You winked playfully before wriggling from his grasp and walking toward the blanket nest.

"All this, for me?" His attention finally tore from you and what was now surrounding you as you descended into the heap of comfort.

"Yeah," you grabbed your glass of wine as you crossed your legs, Santa's eyes once again not able able to tear away with each of your swift movements. "Wanted tonight to be special."

He sat down near you with a groan as he bent his knees, his large frame dwarfing you as he leaned against a pillow and looked at all the liquor you set out then back at you.

The look in his eye was different than every other time you'd been together. There was twinkle in his eye and hidden behind that, intense longing. Not the lust filled gaze he'd usually shoot your way. There was something else intermingling with and you couldn't put your finger on it.

"Any time with you's special, sugar." He reached over to place a large palm on your thigh, unable to keep his hands away.

"Look at him, using his words." You quoted him with a wink before leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose, only giving him a small hint of what the night lay ahead. You gestured your hand toward the array of liquor your cabinet had to offer before reaching over and handing him a glass. "I'm not really sure what your drink of choice besides milk, so... I pulled everything out."

He chuckled rhythmicly, the iconic laugh always flooding you with warmth anytime it echoed from his stomach.

"Beer works just fine." He stroked his thumb over your thigh, still gazing up at you as the fire illuminated his profile. 

"Hm, hmm, hmmm..." You giggled with your lips pressed together, rolling your eyes. "Figures. Only thing I didn't grab."

You stood up, not noticing his quick micro expression of shock as you made your way to the fridge. You snapped off one of the cooled six pack of Schlitz beer then returning to Santa and handing it to him.  He popped open the tab and took a sip as his now ungloved hand returned against your thigh, just needing to touch you. Feel you.

"Do you like?"

"Yeah." He squeezed your thigh, licking his mustache of any left over beer. "Oh, you meant the beer? Yeah, that too." He winked wolfishly, leaning toward you more.

"Hasn't even been ten minutes and you're already being naughty." Your eyes pointed at him through long lashes.

"Can't help it, sugar." He snaked his hand up slowly, fingertips guiding along your soft, suple skin as he went to reach under your lingerie's skirt.

"And that's exactly why you're on the naughty list." You swiped his hand away before stretching your leg over his large hips, sitting atop him as he leaned back against the pillow.

"Am I?" Amused, he played along as his hands returned to your hips, gazing up at you with a curl in his lips.

"Yep." You nodded confidently, taking another sip of your wine before setting it down. "Right at the top. 'Jolly ol' Saint Nicholas'. That's what it says."

"Don't believe you."

"You do--you don't believe me?" You put your hand over your heart, a faint, theatrical gasp as you pretended to feel his words before getting up off his lap and heading towards the sofa.

"Where you goin', sugar?" He called, adjusting himself as he watched your ass from under the skirt.

"That's not my name." You waved your hand in the air dismissively then reached behind the couch, pulling out a rolled up peice of printer paper.

"Huh," he sat up with a grunt, eyes narrowed at the paper then at you. "What's your name?"

"You know my name. You're Santa Claus." You sat down at the edge of the couch, knees pressed together as you tapped the rolled paper against your thigh.

"Yeah?" He raised his brows, mouth slightly agape. "Santa magic's a bit dry right now... wanna remind me?" His voice growing to that husky tone you loved.

"You don't recognize me?" You purred curiously, now smacking the paper against your palm.

"Long year of toymaking... mind's a bit hazy." He gruffed as he went to push off his knee to crawl toward you, his eyes piercing through you. "S'your name again?"

The sound of your boot against the leather jacket on his shoulder squeaked, stopping him from crawling any further and giving him a beautiful upskirt view of your red thong. He gulped, pausing.

"Mrs. Claus."

His eyes fluttered momentarily and you swore you heard the faintest of whimpers die in the back of his throat, his powerful shoulders slouching under your boot.

"What's'a matter? Reindeer got your tongue?" You pulled your boot back, trailing your heel delicately down the fur in the front of his jacket as you reveled in the look playing behind his eyes.

"Sorry, Mrs. C... I, shit. Didn't recognize y'for a moment there." He stammered as his eyes followed your boot before looking back up at you, pupils blown.

"Most people don't, they never portray me right." You rolled your eyes as you twirled the rolled up paper around a strand of your hair. "But I'd expect better from you, Mr. Claus. Don't you have a type?"

He licked his lips then bit his lower lip with a furrowed brow as he peaked up your skirt once more, fingers gripping the wooden floor under his grasp as he searched for his composure.

"Forgive me, Mrs. Claus?" He reached a hand up your calf, inching toward his goal once more with a hopeful look in his eye.

"Naughty." You slapped his hand away with the rolled up paper and he retracted immediately. "Naughty boys don't get their presents." You crossed your legs, closing his entry as you looked down at him from your nose. "And you've been very, very naughty."

"Where's your proof?" He sat up on his haunches to unbutton his heavy coat and disrcard it in the blanket heap.

"Funny you should ask." You removed your hat and reached for his, putting it on your head instead and sitting up confidently as you unraveled the paper. "Oh my.." You eyed the words for a moment.

"What's it say?" He questioned, inching forward. You stopped him with your boot once more, pressed into his chest.

"That you've been a very, very bad boy."

Another deep gulp from your words.

"Fucking random women in alley ways, using your Santa magic to peek in on ladies, ooh..." You leaned your gaze in, narrowing your eyes at the paper. "Did you really touch yourself when doing that?" You peaked over your makeshift scroll to glance down at him then at his hard on straining against his pants.

He shook his head no, hands wringing against his sides as he fought with the urge to touch you.

"Do you wanna add lying to the list, Mr. Claus?" You tapped the tip of your boot against his chest as a warning. "One more chance to get back on the nice list or else no present." You spread your legs briefly to give him a glimpse before removing your heel from his chest, crossing your legs once more. An unspoken threat he understood.

"You wouldn't." He called your bluff.

"What's another year?" You mused at him with a smirk on your red lips.

He huffed through his nostrils as he realized you weren't bluffing, his fists now balling.

"What does Mrs. Claus do to," he clenched his jaw before proceeding, "to naughty boys?"

"Whatever she wants." You leaned your elbow on your knee as you leveled with him, his eyes never leaving your face as you gazed over his. You reached forward, pulling his long silver hair from the lowbun that lived at the nape of his neck while simultaneously removing his glasses and placing them on the table.

You pushed a stray silver curl out of his face as he bit down on his lower lip, fighting the urge to grab your wrists and take control.

"What does Mrs. Claus want?" He uttered, loving the way the name fell off his tongue a little too much. Repeating it whenever he got the chance.

"Take this off." You pulled at one of the buckles on the leather vest. "And grab the mistletoe while you're at it." You winked before sitting straight again, watching as you bounced your heel impatiently.

It was almost comedic how fast he fumbled with the vest and white shirt, immediately discarding them with his jacket. You hummed in delight at the sight of him, his broad, tattooed chest rising and falling as his hair lay against his shoulders and a starving look twinkled in his eyes. He grabbed the mistletoe that laid near the cookies, handing it to you.

"You know what mistletoes are used for, right?" You teased, grabbing the dried herbs from him and waving it in front of him.

He bit back a sarcastic comment and nodded.

"Good." You placed the mistletoe at your knee, looking at him with a raised brow.

It only took him a moment to realize what you were asking before he lunged forward, hooking his large hand behind your knee as he pressed a soft, eager kiss to your knee cap.

"Good boy." You purred which caused his grip to tighten on the hook of your leg, his dick visibly straining and twitching against his pants from the praise. "Ooh, you like being called a good boy?" You tilted your head and he looked up at you, the starvation only growing as he wordlessly nodded. "I need to hear your sweet words." 

"More than I should." He grunted, an edge to his voice as his eyes darted back to the mistletoe as you began to glide down your leg and to the top of your boot. He was quick to follow it, kissing every spot the leaves touched as he made it to the end point while he lifted your leg.

You took the opportunity to hook your leg on his shoulder and his eyes reconnected with your red laced center, lips pressed to your skin. A weak flash in his eyes as he gripped tightly, a grunt against you when he saw the gleam of your slick glow against the Christmas lights.

You slid the mistletoe back up your leg to your inner thigh. His lips followed suit as his beard tickled your skin with each gentle press. His breathing was getting hotter against your skin as he kept his eyes locked on green bundle, waiting to see where you'd lead it.

You slid the mistletoe up your side, allowing it to get caught on your skirt as you did so. His hand quickly pushed the dress the rest of the way up, bunched in his fist as he crawled up from between your legs, wet, scratchy lips gliding along the trail. You had to bite the corner of your lip to keep a giggle from escaping as his beard continued to tickle your side.

The mistletoe reached the top of your breast, the exposed skin not hidden under the lacy fabric getting tender affection from his mouth instantly. You used your other hand to pull the red straps down your arms, allowing him access to your hardened nipples. His mouth immediately latched onto one while his hand reached to grasp the other. You quickly swatted it away with the rolled up paper.

"Naughty." You panted faintly. "Mouth only."

He grumbled against your chest about 'that damn naughty list' before swirling his tongue around your nipple then sucking it back into his mouth, emitting a gasp from you. His tongue lapped as he simultaneously sucked, shooting the pleasure straight to your cunt. You lead the mistletoe to your neglected nipple and he followed, repeating what he had the other. His fists balled at your hips, trying his damn best to be good.

He pulled back from the now kiss swollen bud and speckled light kisses around your areola before he followed the mistletoe trail back down to your inner thigh, eagerly, taking soft nips with his teeth every other kiss. You hooked your heels behind his muscular back as he stared at the mistletoe, waiting. Eyes dark and hungry.

"Does Mr. Claus want his cookie?" You cooed, dancing the mistletoe centimeters from your center as you spread your thighs for him. He inhaled deeply, his brows furrowed as he pursed his lips tightly together. You could tell the teasing was getting to be too much, but at this point you wanted to see how far you could push it. Which wasn't far at all.

It only took a few more seconds of taunting before he grabbed the dried bundle and tossed it.

"Y'know what..." He gruffed, the dark hunger in his eyes finally winning and enveloping his body as he grabbed tightly on your thighs, keeping them apart for him. "I make the damn lists."

Your words of interjection quickly replaced with a whine as you felt his lips crash against your center. He licked, sucked and lapped desperately at your sensitive clit through the lace, grunting to himself. His fingertips bruised into your thighs as he lapped, impatient to even pull the soaked fabric aside as he enjoyed the taste of you soaked into them. Your back arched instantly, falling back into the couch as your a hand reached to curl fingers into his long hair, knotting your knuckles.

He pulled back only for a moment, pulling your panties down your legs and tossing them atop of his discarded clothing before quickly reconnecting his mouth to your cunt and sucking your clit between his lips. He groaned against you, sending deep vibrations through your center and those ever so familiar tingles made their way from your toes to your fingertips and scalp.

You pressed your thighs into the scratch of his cheeks, panting as you felt the release you'd been waiting for the past year build in your tummy. You peeked down between your legs only to find his eyes already staring back at you, a permanent snarl in his nose as he lapped and sucked with waiting eyes. Your fingers tangled tighter into his hair, unable to stop the grinding of your hips as you held eye contact; soft whimpers and pleas dying on your lips.

Calloused fingertips teased against your entrance, collecting your sweetness before pushing two thick fingers into you and forcing a yelp from between your lips. He tried so hard to go slow at first, soaking in just how tight your unused cunt had gotten around his fingers since the last he felt it, but your whines and how your skin glowed against the warm fireplace while the Mrs. Claus dress laid bunched on your waist caused a burning need to force an orgasm out of you.

Neither of you broke eye contact besides your momentarily flutters from the intense pleasure. You loved the way he looked between your legs, determined to get what he wanted and desperate for it. He loved the way your cheeks flushed and lips pursed together, barely audible whines of his name falling from them that only encouraged his speed. Only made him need more.

The pads of his fingertips reached up into you, searching for that spot as his tongue never relented. Constant groans of his own vibrating against you as he watched your body unravel around him, your cunt pulsing on his fingers with each jolt of pleasure that erupted from your tummy and all over his beard and hand.

"Fuck," he ran his tongue flat along your lips as he pushed himself back up, leaving a soft kiss on your pelvis as he did. Eyes blown as he stood up above you, grabbing at the useless bunched up dress around your waist, tugging it off and tossing it just as he did the mistletoe. Carelessly. "Missed your taste."

He quickly kicked off his boots and removed his pants, grasping large fingers around the shaft of his cock as he gazed down at you with glossed over eyes, a look you'd never seen before.

Usually always in control of the situation, cool, as he took you where he wanted you but tonight something firey stirred behind his eyes and he couldn't wait anymore.

The removal of his entire outfit and his hair messily laying on his shoulders made you realize he was a man. A man with magic, but just a man.

You didn't see the fabled jolly old Saint Nick in front of you, and you didn't see Kris Kringle spreading your thighs into the couch as he leaned over and caged you in with long arms. It wasn't father Christmas who pushed your hair back so he could look at your pretty face when he slid the swollen head of his cock between your sopping lips, a soft groan leaving his lips as he saw your mouth contort in bliss with each brush of your clit.

No.

You widdled him back down to the man he was before the magic. A man who was no exception to human desire and emotions. A man you'd grown attached to, a man you looked forward to every Christmas eve. A man who needed you just as badly as you needed him.

No amount of magic would change that.

"Missed you." He gazed down at you with soft eyes, his profile warm and glowing against the fire as he tentatively watched each facial expression you made. A small smile curled at his beard when your body tensed and relaxed all at the same time, your hips urging closer to him as you silently begged for him.

"Don't want a silent night, sugar. Need t'hear you." He brushed his weeping tip against your slit, using what little restraint he had left to urge your sweet words out. He loved hearing you. He loved having your words replay in his head on nights he felt the loneliest, missing you.

"Please, Santa." You wrapped your arms around his neck, attempting to pull him in closer as his warm skin radiated against your body with each deep breath he took. "M-Missed you so much." Another pitiful buck of your hips. "Need you so bad." Your eyes big, begging and projecting that same look he gave you back.

Longing.

"Told you," he grasped your hair in a gentle knot to brace himself as he urged his hips forward, peeking down to watch the reddened tip of his cock slowly dissapear into the softness of your pussy. "You've been a good girl." He rasped as he peppered more delicate kisses along your cheek bone, his beard tickling in their wake. His words rung sweet as candy in your ears while he sunk completely into you with a soft grunt. "And good girls get their presents."

You tried to form sentences but nothing Christmas-y clever or witty came to mind as you took him completely.  Instead, you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, his peppermint scent filling your senses as you whimpered and whined against his flushed skin. Your thighs hugged tightly around his large hips as you adjusted to his girth. He braced an arm around your lower waist, forcing your hips closer to his and you gasped against his neck; feeling beautifully full. He stood there for a moment, enjoying the desperate grasp your cunt had around him with a furrowed brow, committing it to his vast memory.

"Y'take me s'good, sugar." He whispered into your hair, his words of tender praise only caused you to flutter around him as your boots pressed into his back, trying to force him to move. To give you what you've been needing for the past two years since he met you at the bar.

"Please.." you whined before latching your lips onto the pulse of his neck, breathy whimpers echoing against him as your tongue swirled against the sweet taste of his skin.

"Since you asked so nicely..." he guided his hips slowly into you, allowing the first full agonisizngly slow thrust to send electricity up your spine. His heartbeat was booming against your chest as he struggled to hold back, trying to savor each moment.

He didn't want to treat you like the other women he'd used on the lonelier Christmas eves before he met you. Nights the brunt of hard work with no appreciation nor help weighed on him, making him doubt himself.

Something in you sparked a magic within him that he thought was long dead, a list of nonbelievers and greed had killed, but you made him look forward to Christmas again. The magic he lost, hid in you and he felt it. Everytime you touched his skin, or whimpered his name, fire like sparks jolted through him. Magic he'd never felt before erupting just from your sweet words and carresses.

He needed it.

He needed you, and he was going to show you the only way he knew how.

You parted your mouth from his neck, nuzzling your face into his beard as your thighs dug into his soft sides, attempting to spur him on faster but he refused. Each gentle rock of his hips inching further in and out of you as he grasped onto the back of your neck, cradling you against him as he pumped into you in a slow, rhythmic speed and ignoring your pleas.

"Shh, shh..." He stroked his thumb against the back of your neck as he kept his pace, rasping sweet words into your hair as you clawed your nails into his shoulder blades. "You're doing so good, sugar. Let me enjoy this a little more..." His words jagged against you the moment he felt your contractions from his voice. "Yeah.. just like that, sweet girl. Keep doing that for me." Your eyes rolled back from the praise, your toes curling in your boots as he slowly etched away at your mounting climax.

"Oh god, oh god..." you panted against him, the feeling between your legs radiating over your entire body as you felt your peak build and burn in your lower belly.

"No, sugar.." He pushed your head back so he could see your face, "S'just me." A gentle kiss at the corner of your quivering lips as he eyed you, waiting for your break. 

He looked down at you as his silver curls framed his face, patient blue eyes watching your every expression and memorizing it with each movement of his hips. You couldn't process from the haze of your building orgasm, but his own breathing had become unsteady and his skin hot with each pump.

The look on your face was the sweetest thing he'd ever witnessed in his long life as you unwrapped like a bow on Christmas morning around him. Your half lidded eyes struggling to stay open, puffy lips slightly agape as you meakly tried to call to him. The frustration and want from the past two years finally washed from you and between your bodies.

Sweet relief.

"Good girl," he kept his pace steady, voice gentle as he talked you through your orgasm. "M'right here, good girl."

The added wetness onto his cock caused him to clench his jaw as he battled with confine once more, the burning need to take what he wanted growing familiarly strong.

Instead, he grasped your hips and flipped you both, never disconnecting from you. You straddled his hips, face still craddled against him as you breathed heavily. The twist in your stomach recoiled as you sat up and looked down at him in your new position.

"S'all yours." He circled his thumbs against your hips, encouraging you to continue where you'd left off six months ago on the pillow.

The limpness in your body from your consecutive orgasms was no match for the heat that burned when you swallowed in the sight under you. Hair disheveled from your constant grasping, his scarred, tattooed chest rising and falling and oh god... those tattoos...

They really drove you mad.

Instantly your hand grasped onto his chest, nails digging into his soft skin as you began bouncing your hips, soaking in the glorious throb of his cock the moment he watched your body move. His hands traveled up your sides to grasp at your bouncing chest as you fucked yourself stupid on him, tweaking and rolling at your nipples each chance he got.

He may have been holding back in this moment, but you refused to wait any longer. One more year was a milenia too long and you needed all you could get from him tonight.

You threw your head back, hair whipping wildly with as you bucked your hips on top of his; wet colliding of smacking skin tangled with pornographic moans danced in the air with Christmas music.

You released one of your hands from the death grip on his chest and reached for your clit, rubbing furiously as you forced his cock into yourself over and over again at an unrelenting pace. His grunts and heavy breathing christmas music to your ears as you felt yourself once again tense with a third orgasm pathetically waiting around the corner. Strings of incoherent nonsense fell from your parted lips when you ground your hips down into his, greedily taking him entirely as you circled and chased your orgasm fervently.

"Shit..." he was all he could muster.

He commited every moan, curve, swivel of your hips and blemish on your skin to memory before his head fell back in bliss, the convulsions from your cunt becoming too much. His now bruising grip on your hips only tightened as he helped you with your pace while thrusting upward, amplifying your oncoming orgasm with each deep stroke. The familiar twinkle of glitter spiked up your spine as the white heat of your orgasm powerfully crashed down through your center as he continued to fuck you through it.

You fell onto his chest, your body weak and overly sensitive as you panted against his warm skin, face burried in the tuft of hair as he continued to thrust into you at a much slower rate than before, unimaginably hard.

"Shit.." he grunted in amazement again and looked down to only see a mess of hair buried against him. "Sugar?" He pushed your hair back to force you look up at him."You okay?"

"N-Never better."

The glazed over fucked out look caused a proud smile on his face.

"Good." He kissed the top of your head then reached under your thighs, lifting the both of you up and placing you down onto the heap of blankets. "Cause I'm not done with you."

Your stomach jumped as he used your thighs to flip you over on all fours with ease. He placed a pillow under your head and the blanket heap under your hips to keep your ass raised to him, noting how spent you were and adjusting you as needed.

"S'okay, sugar. Just relax. I'll take care of you."

He stroked his fingertips along your soaked entrance, recollecting some of your sweetness to suck off his finger. He hummed to himself, pleased with your taste then grasped a hand around his shaft and another on your asscheek to spread you open. He grunted, appreciating the glistening glow between your legs that the fireplace illuminated before he lead himself back into you.

He was so hard, so big and you were so sensitive and barely there. No thoughts ran through your head, just the focus on the heated pleasure his intrusion brought to your center. With what little mobility you had, you pushed your hips back into his and whined. He let out a soft chuckle at how willing you still were despite being completely cockdrunk on the floor.

"Sweet girl." He mumbled to himself, the new nickname causing your cunt to pulse and within that left all his restraint.

He grasped your hips, pulling your ass back into him with a loud clap and a snarl from his throat. The ripple of your skin caused his eyes to close tight momentarily before he looked back down and watched himself piston in and out of you, his cock shining with your slick. Your desperate and weak whimpers along with the writhing of your body under his pulled a fury out of him he'd not felt in a thousand years too long.

His tip continuesly hit your sweet spot over and over again and you swore you were seeing golden stars burn in the fireplace through your lashes. You attempted to turn your gaze up at him, immediately falling apart at the sight and another coil snapping in your stomach the moment you did.

His silver tendrils hung wildly in his face as he gazed down with an icy blue stare at your connection, his nose back in a permanent snarl and curling each time your hips met. Almost animalistic grunts and growls echoed from his chest with each smack of your thighs as he lurched forward.

His hands landed at either side of your shoulders, stabilizing himself as he leaned over and pumped deeper, faster.

You reached for the hand that lay in front of your face and grabbed it, sliding two of his thick fingers into your mouth and sucking. A gruff groan emitted from his throat as he watched your soft lips suck on him, the heat in his own stomach raising to it's boiling point with each clench of your cunt and soft suckle of your mouth.

"F-Fuck.." he grunted between his teeth, battling the coil in his stomach. "S-Sugar... where d'y--"

"Wanna be your little stocking stuffer..." You mindlessly purred around his fingers as you slid your tongue around each digit, eyes fluttering in a sex filled haze as the next words fell from your mouth like you'd uttered them your whole life. "Nicomund."

Snap.

The deep groan that erupted through his chest was thunderous. His hips collideded one last time into yours, knuckles white around the blanket he grasped and his fingertips pressing into your tongue all at once. It felt as if the fireplace had grown twice as hot and glittery, much like the feeling within you, as he emptied himself. Each deep spurt caused soft yelps between his fingers as you reveled in his pulsing.

You both laid there for a moment as he lazily and slowly thrusted into you, enjoying the feeling of his own cum till your whines snapped him out of his haze.

He eased out of you with a hiss, collapsing next to you on whatever blanket wasn't bunched up under your hips and dragged a heavy arm around your waist. He pulled you into his side, heaving heavily as he brushed his hand over his chest and furrowed his brows at the sweat. "That's new."

"Mmh," you mumbled, still enjoying the full feeling between your thighs his cum gave as you inched into his side and blinked your eyes open to see what he was talking about. "..Sweat?" You rested your head against his shoulder, body still limp and brain function beginning to come back. "Do you not sweat?"

"Never really had a reason to." A soft chuckle as he pressed his fingertips into the softness of your skin. "Not for a long time, at least."

"Mmhyeahhh..." You yawned as you nuzzled into his side, your face pressing into his warmth. "Guess there's not much reason to sweat in the North Pole."

"Yeah," his voice waivered for a moment as he leaned his head down to press his lips against your head, realizing there would be no reason  sweat at home. Not when you're here. "Guess not."

You laid there in silence for awhile, the both of you catching your breath as he combed gentle fingers through your hair and stared off into the Christmas tree in deep thought.

He mulled over if he'd ask you the obvious 'how did you know my name?' and ruin the moment you both were having, but ultimately decided against it.

He knew why. There was no point in asking, not anymore.

"Don't forget your cookies." You mumbled against his skin, shaking him from his thoughts.

"Hm?"

You lifted your face finally with tired eyes as he gazed down at you.

"Made extra cookies for you." A soft, sleepy smile on your face. "Gonna need your energy after that." You muffled a giggle as you draped your arm over his stomach. "Didn't know you still had that in you, old man."

You loved it everytime your wise cracks got that full iconic chuckle from his stomach. Anytime he looked at you with warm eyes and rosy cheeks, amused by your words. You loved it.

"I'm not that old, sugar." He gave you a soft squeeze. "Young enough to still not know what the hell I'm doing."

"Wait --what?" Your brows furrowed in confusion. "You're Santa Claus. You know everything?"

"Not everything." Another soft chuckle. "Some magic I still don't understand."

"So.. how do you do that thing then?" Your curiosity began to peak through, giving you one last gust of energy.

"What thing?" Now it was his turn to be confused, which was an unfamiliar sight.

"You know! The thing where it feels like," you pushed yourself to sit up at his side, pulling part of the blanket over your lap as you danced fingertips up and down your body. "Like uh... like a million Christmas lights twinkling at once inside and all around me."

"I don't?"

"Yes you do!" You nudged his side gently, trying to get him to understand. "I feel it when you touch me!"

The confusion quickly left and another soft look appeared over his brow. Realization hitting him like a collapsing chimney.

"I don't do that, sugar."  His voice gentle and scratchy as he wrapped his arm around your waist again, pulling you back against him as he spoke confidently, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Think you just like me."

He couldn't tell you what the intense sparks were nor why they were there, but he knew what you were talking about because he felt them too. They were the reason he kept coming back. The reason production in the workshop had picked up. The reason the toys were finished early this Christmas eve.

He knew them all too well.

"Huh." You breathed out, a blush creeping over your nose as you nuzzled back into his embrace, not wanting tonight to end. "Embarrassing."

"Shit." He groaned as he sat up, hand still around your waist. "Almost forgot." He reached over to his sack, reaching into the dark abyss and pulling out a wrapped present.

"It's not Christmas morning!" You interjected.

"Yeah, well, I'm Santa Claus. I make the rules." He chuckled as he handed you the box. "Do not break it this time. Takes a shit load'a magic to make these things."

You giggled to yourself, having a feeling on what was inside but still tearing it open as if it were Christmas morning and you had no idea.

"Snow storm proof?" You looked at him with wide, glittering eyes as you pulled out the black, shiny walkie talkie.

"Not sure." He shrugged heavy shoulders. "Guess we'll need to find out." 

"Thank you." You placed the walkie talkie to the side and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a quick peck on the cheek then sighing softly, "It's almost time."

He sighed deeply, a finger lazily trailing up your spine as he dismissed the time. "Five more minutes."

"No, no." You shook your head, patting his chest before you pushed yourself from his embrace, scrambling for your dress to pull on. "The kids need you." You untangled your legs from the blankets and made your way to the kitchen as he watched you with pinched brows.

You grabbed the cookie tin you'd packed for his night before he arrived and the rest of the schlitz you had in the fridge, as well as a thermos of milk before you made your way back to him and placed it next to him.

"They're not warm anymore but," you shrugged, suddenly feeling small under the intense look he was giving you. "I figured it was better than your pockets. Don't worry, it's not skim." You nodded toward the thermos. "Whole milk."

The bright, proud smile on your face accompanied by the sheepish blush made his cheeks grow rosier too as he pushed himself to sit up.

"Thank you." His response simple, but grateful.

You both just looked at each other for a moment. An unusual glint in his eye as you battled with the annoying flutters happening in your stomach from that glint.

"You need to go." You whispered, hating that you needed to remind him.

"You're gettin' good at telling the time."

"I know."

"Course you do." He spoke confidently as he stroked your cheek before getting up with a groan.

You joined him, grabbing his glasses, his Santa hat that had fallen off your head at one point and one of your hairties for him as he pulled on his clothes.

"Same time next year?" You asked as you reached up to place his glasses on his nose then handing him the hairtie.

"Yeah, sugar. Same time next year." He grinned, sliding the hair tie in his pocket with two beers and the thermos in the other.

"Oh! Don't forget!"

You grabbed the cookies and handed them to him, a pause from you both when the irony of the situation had sparkled obviously under Christmas lights. That stupid glint never leaving his eyes as you both leaned in for another kiss, a wordless goodbye. Your noses bumped together and in a dazzling instant, he was gone.

Your face burned red as you rubbed your forehead, heading to collapse into the heap of blankets that still reeked of peppermint. You reached over for the plate of untouched cookies and took a bite, munching on it as you finally had a coherent thought out loud.

"Do I have a fucking crush on Santa Claus?"

🎅🏻

he's a little bit older (like, super old)

got a bit of a dad bod

from a city that's colder

but damn it, he's so hot

he knows when i'm sleepin'

and he knows when i'm no-ot

i haven't, like, seen him in a while

he's probably just busy at his workshop

so little miss sabrina carpenter just dropped this new song called "buy me presents" and this part SCREAMS daddy santa 𖹭

David Harbour on the Santa Cinematic Universe

What if stranger things was popular like two decades ago and ppl made edits like this

VIOLENT NIGHT (2022) dir. Tommy Wirkola

DAVID HARBOUR as Santa Claus in Violent Night (2022)

He just gets it

David Harbour on the Santa Cinematic Universe

10 FAVOURITE NEWLY RELEASED MOVIES I WATCHED THIS YEAR

NOPE (2022) dir. Jordan Peele THE MENU (2022) dir. Mark Mylod BULLET TRAIN (2022) dir. David Leitch SEE HOW THEY RUN (2022) dir. Tom George THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT (2022) dir. Tom Gormican THREE THOUSAND YEARS OF LONGING (2022) dir. George Miller GUILLERMO DEL TORO’S PINOCCHIO (2022) dir. Guillermo del Toro EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE (2022) dir. Daniel Kwan & Daniel Scheinert GLASS ONION (2022) dir. Rian Johnson VIOLENT NIGHT (2022) dir. Tommy Wirkola