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hauntedelation · 1 year

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HELP this is so wonderful and really soothed my Saint Nick obsession since seeing this movie 😭😩

❅ SANTA, BABY

ViolentNight!Santa x F!Reader

Rated E - 3.k

Tags: (magical) age difference, improper use of walkie-talkies, assumptions about how the Santa thing works, established relationship, holiday booty call, pretend quid pro quo, oral (m rec.), unprotected PiV (wrap it up!), creampie, praise, voice & size kink, teasing, & lots of soft smut and fluff

Summary:

“You know, I asked for you this year. If you stopped by, you could knock a present off your list early. Get a head start?”

“Oh, yeah?” He rasps, his voice low and smooth, “That’s assuming you’re on the nice list, sweetheart. We both know you haven’t been in years.”

A/N - cursed with thoughts after watching the trailer, and unfortunately I’ve decided to share them ❄️💕

The plastic of the walkie-talkie rests against your lips as you hold it, eyes watching the minutes tick by on your phone.

11:55, 56, 57, 58, 59-

At the stroke of midnight, you’re flicking on the dial, the device crackling to life. You don’t have to adjust the station. It’s never changed.

Because after all - there’s only one thing you need it for.

“Hi, honey.” You coo into the small mic, waiting for a reply.

He never leaves you waiting long - but there’s a tired edge to his voice when he answers, “Hi yourself. Midnight already?”

“Mmhmm. It is here, anyways.”

A slight hiccup in the means of your communication. The device - one set of a few pairs in existence - only seems to reach him in December, when the holiday was in full swing. Same with the small chimney in your living room.

So, you made the most of it, meeting as much as you can in the small window of 31 days - before it goes silent, and the chute gets blocked off again.

You can hear a rough curse on the other end, then a low sigh, “I’m still at the workshop, it’s been a mess this year. Sorry baby, looks like I’m running late tonight.”

Disappointment lances through you, but you’re still just happy to hear his voice, “Do you need to go?”

“Nah. Waiting on a fix for one of the machines in the factory. He’s on his way, I’ve got a few.”

“How long of a wait?” You fish - thinking you’d settle for something quick tonight, if you had to, “You know, I asked for you this year. If you stopped by, you could knock a present off your list early. Get a head start?”

“Oh, yeah?” He rasps, his voice low and smooth, “That’s assuming you’re on the nice list, sweetheart. We both know you haven’t been in years.”

You grin, teeth sinking into your lip, “Mm, and whose fault is that? I was perfectly respectable before you.”

He hums, amused, “Is that right?”

“Mhmm.” You’re still smiling. If you close your eyes, it’s almost like he’s there in the room with you, “Maybe you could straighten it out for me. Put in a good word with the big man?”

“I think I can manage that.” A low laugh rumbles on the other end of the line - the sound shooting straight to the aching spot between your thighs.

His voice always did that to you - the sound has you wistful, needy, the words coming out before you can stop them.

“I miss you.”

It was hard, not seeing him for 11 months, other than the occasional weekend where you could both slip away, meet in the middle. You couldn’t come to see him - that would mean a much more intimate commitment. Something you both had been dancing around for a long time.

Something never fully admitted.

He’s silent for a long moment, but you think you can hear something similar mirrored in his own answer, “I miss you, too.”

“Will you come? When you’re done?” You hold your breath - but despite all his gruffness, you know that deep down, he’s soft.

“Yeah, baby.” He relents, and you think you can hear the smile in his voice, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

———

It’s late - hours later, when you hear the rhythmic clunk of heavy boots across the hardwood floor, the soft jingle of his bag with every step.

You’re sleepy, dozing as you had waited, curled up with a blanket on the couch - knowing that it’d be the first place he looked. Keeping a heavy-lidded eye on the brick fireplace, where the brightly-colored bulbs twinkle on and off.

They always had been your favorite - the string of lights had been put up the day after Halloween. Unable to resist, even if your friends had rolled their eyes when they saw them.

Eyes blinking open to find him standing in front of you - broad-shouldered and filling your view, the curls of gold from his journey still glittering around him. Dropping the bag next to the armchair that just sits to the side, the usual spot.

“Hi.” You coo, pushing yourself up as you stretch.

“Hi.” He smiles, as his eyes snag on your clothes - or lack of. Wrapped in lingerie that looked like it could be made of red ribbons and lace, almost matching the shade of his suit.

“Oh, just look at you.” The looks darken, as he approaches. Swiping the hair tie on the side table from where it rested next to a plate of cookies you had left out. Replacing it with the hat and wire-framed glasses he’s just removed, “I thought I was the present, not the other way around.”

You preen under his gaze, letting the blankets fall away further, exposing more of your body - shifting to the side so he can sit down.

The old couch creaking as he joins you, a weary sigh as he sinks into the worn cushions. Teeth biting down and then tearing the black leather gloves from his hands, before an arm reaches out to curl around your waist, pulling you to him.

Your hand splaying across his chest, gripping on to the velvet and fur as his mouth finds yours. A low groan in his throat as his own hands wander over skin and lace, squeezing, groping, tugging until you’re half sitting in his lap.

He tastes like you remember, your tongue darting out to brush against his lip, until they part for you. Cinnamon and spice and the bite of something sharp, like whisky - making you melt against him.

Reacquainting yourself to the scratch of his beard when you press yourself closer, the soft curls of his long hair when your fingers twist in him, pulling another moan.

Eventually pulling back for a breath, your lips kiss-swollen, a warmth in your chest that travels downwards. You squirm against him, the thigh pressed between your own, as he smiles, mouth dropping to your chin, then your jaw.

“I talked to the big man for you, like you asked.” He presses open-mouthed kiss to your neck then, and it distracts you - making you momentarily forget your earlier jest.

“Oh yeah?” It comes out breathy, fingers sliding from his hair, dropping down to grasp at his shoulders.

“Mhmm.” He hums, before pausing to seal his lips against your throat, sucking a mark that makes you gasp, “He said if you were good for me, he’d reconsider.”

That makes you laugh, as his hand drops from your waist to your ass - fingers squeezing as he rocks you against his thigh, a spark of pleasure igniting with the friction.

“That’s kind of him.” You manage, and he’s pulling back, a hazy look in his own eyes, “Did he say how?”

He smiles again.

“I have a few ideas.”

Eyes dropping to your mouth as his hand cups your jaw - before a thumb smooths over your lip, pressing down. Waiting for them to close around it and suck, sighing when they do.

“Will you, baby?” He asks, his voice smoky and low and at that moment, you think you’d agree to anything, “Be good for me?”

His thumb pulls from you, smoothing across your lip again as you nod, “Always.”

“That’s my girl.”

The praise makes your chest ache, as you lift off him, sliding down to the floor instead - kneeling between his thighs where the blanket pools, soft under your shins.

Peeking up at him with parted lips as you watch him unclasp the crimson jacket, work open the leather belt with the heavy golden buckle. When the coat parts you can see where he strains for you, his cock pressing against the soft fabric of his pants.

Hips lifting to push them down, the patterned, forest-green boxers barely past his thighs before you’re reaching - eager for him.

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, when your tongue swipes over the weeping tip, the wet bead of precum. Swallowing it down before your lips wrap around him, your fist following. Spreading your spit with each pump, until he’s slick and shining with you.

You hum, trying to take him deep, ignoring the ache in your jaw, the way that your mouth floods with saliva as you gag. His lips are parted, panting as he sinks further into the couch - letting your other hand brace on his thick thigh for balance.

His hand reaching down to cup the soft weight of your breast, thumb smoothing over the budded peak of your nipple. Tugging the cups down so he can watch the way they sway when you suck his cock - unable to hold back his own moans when you swallow around him.

“Haven’t jerked off in a week.” He grunts out, teeth clenched as your eyes lift to his again, “Wanted to wait for your call.”

Carefully easing you off his cock then - watching as you lick your lips, breaking the string of spit that clings to the flushed tip.

“Not going to waste it on your mouth, no matter how fucking good it feels.”

You grin, standing as he pats his thigh, your thumbs tucking in the waistband of your panties. But he’s reaching for you, catching your hands as he tugs you towards him again.

“Leave them on baby, please.”

Hands still on your hips as he helps you lower yourself onto his lap. Waiting until you’re seated, his cock trapped between your clothed pussy and the curve of his stomach before the tugs the hair tie from his wrist.

Bundling his silver hair back into a messy knot as you shift against him, before stealing another kiss. The grind of your hips interrupted when his fingers slide against the curve of fabric at your thigh, before slipping underneath.

The gasp high in your throat when he pets at you, his own rumbling groan when he feels how you’re soaked for him. Fingers circling over the bead of your clit, watching the way your lips part in a gasp as he just begins to press down.

Before they move again, until the tip of his finger presses against your entrance. The slightest resistance, before it slides in. First one knuckle, and then another, until he’s cupping you.

“Nick.” You groan - it feels like you’re throbbing for him, impossibly wound up, “Please. I need you.”

Fingers slide over his cock again, trying to lift your hips as he tugs you back down.

“Need to get you ready.” He murmurs, against your mouth, lips dropping to drag against your chin.

A slow thrust of his fingers, and normally you’d agree. He’s big, thick - but you’ve been waiting for weeks, months.

“I want you now. I want to feel you, even when you leave.” You beg - and it does something to him, a glint to his bright, icy blue eyes.

His cock twitches against your stomach, and you know he’ll give in. Fingers withdraw, hooking around the gusset of your panties, pulling them to the side.

Letting you lift up this time, your hands resting on broad shoulders as his other hand holds his cock steady for you. Unable to resists sliding it across your folds, bumping it against your clit, before letting it press against your entrance.

Your head tilts back as you sink down onto him, his cock splitting you open, a ragged sound ripping from your throat. His own rough exhale feeling the tight, wet grip of your cunt as you slow take him.

Until you’re flush with the coarse, silver curls, until it feels like he’s filling you completely. You can’t do much more than pant as his hands slide beneath your thighs, gripping on as he lifts you. Dragging his length along your walls with one thrust, and then another.

You keen, rocking against him, finding a rhythm as you brace yourself on his shoulders. Pressing yourself against the soft curve of his stomach and chest, his hands moving to your hips.

His head tilting until he can mouth at your breasts, the tip of his tongue teasing a nipple until his teeth scrape against it. It makes you clench, his mouth leaving wet marks as he moves to the other one, leaving you groaning.

“Feels so good. Waited so long-” You moan, arching into his mouth, where he hums in agreement.

A groan, his eyes bright as his head tilts back so he can see you.

“I know, baby. Should come stay with me,” he breathes out, and it makes you stutter, fingers curling in his jacket.

Blinking, as his eyes roll shut in pleasure, still murmuring, “There’s so many of those lights that you love. They’re everywhere, could fuck you all the time underneath them. You’d look so pretty.”

You’re not sure if it’s a real invitation or a fantasy, but it fuels the building pleasure that coils in your stomach. A familiar throb that has you riding him a little faster, the slap of your thighs against his hips as you lean down to kiss him.

His hand sliding down to where you’re joined, fingers rubbing circles on your clit. Just the tiny bit more that you needed, the steady bounce on his cock getting sloppy as you start to tremble.

You’re chanting, not sure if it’s your answer, or just to make sure that he doesn’t stop, not for anything. The words repeated, “yes, yes, god yes, please-”

His own rough answer, ground out through gritted teeth as his hips meet you, thrusting up, burying himself deep into you.

“Come on baby, wanna feel you come. Been waiting so long, let me feel you-”

You shatter. Pushing yourself down onto his cock, the bouncing turning into a slow grind as your head drops against his shoulder. Fingers gripping his jacket so hard they ache.

“That’s it.” He talks you through it, a rumble of three pleased chuckles that you can feel in his chest, “Come on my cock, baby. Just like that.”

Fingers slowing just enough that you’ve not overwhelmed, drawing out the tight pulse of your orgasm.

Leaving you boneless against him, panting into his neck as you sag against his solid frame. It’s so much harder to move now, to start your rhythm again. Your first two bounces are still sloppy, a weak attempt at best as you use his shoulders for leverage.

He watches you, arms resting along the back of the couch - an eyebrow raised. A huff of a laugh when you half-heartedly glare at him, until his hands move to your hips again, slowing your movements.

“I wear you out, baby?” He croons, with eyes only for you - teasing. “Too tired to keep fucking me?”

You huff, but he’s not wrong - it’s hard work, and you were already tired before. With a grunt he lifts you off him, as you squeak in surprise.

Easing out from under you, leaving you facing the back of the couch as he stands - moving behind you. You think you get it now, pushing yourself onto your knees, leaning your elbows against the cushion as you bend at the waist for him.

A hand smoothes down the curve of your ass, snagging on the hem of your panties, dragging them down. The fabric at the center damp and dark, leaving them around your thighs as he angles you further, bending you more.

“So fuckin’ pretty, you know that?” He rasps - and then he’s pressing into your heat again.

You gasp, the sound low in your throat as he sheathes himself with a slow thrust, and then another. His stomach pressed against your ass, before a hand anchors on your waist, the other sliding between your breasts. Tugging you upward, until you’re flush with his chest.

If you felt full before, then you must have forgotten how it felt to take him like this. Each thrust feels like it’s in your guts, in your throat, until you’re choking on him.

It’s amazing how fast he finds the spot that turns your words into just sounds - like no time had passed at all. You weak gasps as his cock drags against a spot that has you seeing stars, fingers wrapping around his thick wrist as he holds you against him.

His nose presses into your neck, his mouth hot against your skin as he groans with you. Each thrust loud as he pushes himself in the warm channel of your cunt, again and again.

“You soaked my cock, sweetheart. Just listen to how wet you are.”

Your moan is weak, you’re not sure you’ll last much longer. But he’s there with you, his breath a harsh gasp in your ear as his head tilts back.

“Nick, I’m, ah-” you gasp, and you can feel the scrape of his beard against your cheek, the drag of his lips.

“I know, baby. Once more, for me.”

The hand on your hip sliding to press against your clit again - and then, you’re there. Pinned against him as you come around him again, his own broken moan as his hips snap against yours.

Until they slow, one more thrust as he growls a low “fuck” - as he presses deep, spilling into you. Painting your walls with each pulse of his cock, the sound from lips dragging out as you flutter around him. Milking him, taking everything he has.

His grip on your loosening, a soft kiss pressed against your jaw as he eases out of you. The slightest ache afterwards that you know you’ll feel tomorrow - though the thought makes you sigh, not minding at all.

Leaving you sagging against the couch as he grabs a cloth from the kitchen. Admiring his release that leaks from you, smeared across your inner thighs, before the warm cloth passes over them.

Spending the little time he has to still take care of you - like you knew he would. It’s why you’ve stayed all this time. Why his request is still repeating in the back of your mind.

Later, you sigh as your head rests against his bare chest - any tension in your muscles long gone. Legs like jello, still warm and cozy in your afterglow.

The sweetness of the icing melts on your tongue, your hand reaching down lazily to the floor to grab another cookie - snapping it down the middle.

“Worth the wait?” He asks idly, lips pressing against the crown of your head, before accepting the half you offer him.

As if it wasn’t, always.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

“Just want I wanted.”

dividers by @/firefly-graphics here!

#Oh my god #Violent Night #author recs #fic recs #Santa Claus smut #smut #😭💖#just what I needed

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