summary: you get, perhaps, the worst christmas present imaginable.
word count: 1,008
warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, dark, the dog dies, smut, noncon, breaking and entering, name calling (bitch), murder, kidnapping, based on the poem night before christmas, not proofread.
note: i tried to be rhyme-y with this and make it almost poem-like, but im not quite sure how well this worked out in terms of telling a cohesive story. also, because i was trying to make it more like a poem, some of the dialogue is clunky and doesn't quite sound like freezy, but meh that's the price you pay for creativity. this was first conceptualized in july 2021 and written between november 2-8.
Ops! Esta imagem não segue nossas diretrizes de conteúdo. Para continuar a publicação, tente removê-la ou carregar outra.
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The front door was left unlocked with little care, not knowing that Mr. Freezy would soon be there. Your dog nestled all snug in your bed, while visions of fetch and walkies danced in his head. And you in your nightgown, and your roommates all gone, had just settled your brain for a long winter's nap.
When out in the backyard there arose such a clatter, your dog sprung from your bed to see what was the matter. Out the doggy dog he flew like a flash, tore through the yard, and barked at the trash. The moon shone down on the snow-covered ground, but the sign of an intruder was nowhere to be bound. Then, what to his protective nature should fear, a man stood at six-foot with a cold weapon should appear. With a flick of the wrist, so quiet and slick, the poor old dog died real quick.
More silent than a bird of prey, his entrance was soon made, and he whistled and shouted and called out your name:
"Now Y/N! Now bitch, you listen here! There is nowhere to run, there is nowhere to hide. Let me make myself clear: no one ever gets away from Mr. Freezy, not even if they tried."
Up in your room, you stirred at the commotion. But you remained stuck in your dreams, unaware of the fact that you had been chosen. A simple hot cocoa had been all that you'd wanted, gone to the store to get what you'd needed that night. A plan was soon concocted, because he, too, saw something to sate his appetite.
Now you were at mercy of a man so callous and cruel.
"Little bitch, little bitch, let me in," he taunted, stalking in through the doorway, ready to commit a most terrible sin.
The sight before him was most alluring. There you lay, spread out like an angel, all wrapped in your bedding. Translucent white nightgown, bunched up at the waist. He felt a stirring deep inside, and he knew that taking you would become the most sparkling jewel sat atop his crown.
A buckle was undone as he prepared to climb on top of you. He smirked to himself—there was nowhere you could run. You were his, he knew that to be true. All that was left was to take the seat with the very best view. He came up to the bed, wrapped his hands around your ankles. Legs pulled apart, the sweetest gift of all, all ripe for the taking.
And take he did, ready to make you his with his rare expertise. He hovered above you, sinking into you with ease.
"Fuck," he grunted. So slick, so tight—your cunt gripped his cock with all its might. Your hips wore the imprints of his fingertips, the bed shaking under you. He'd barely begun, but he knew the grand finale would come soon. "Milk my cock, you little fucking bitch."
You stirred at the sound of his voice. Your face contorted, screwing up, as if you knew you were the victim of his latest exploit. A quiet groan escaped, and he knew sealed was your fate. You were now his, and he was going to take all you could give.
"Cum now, little bitch, cum. Cum for your fuckin' daddy," he growled. And cum you did, with a quiet little squee!
He pumped and pumped and pumped until his spend had you stuffed. He pulled out his cock, from his mouth escaping small huffs. Perfect—he had never seen a woman look so perfect. "Good little bitch," he grinned, "but I still need you to scratch that special little itch."
Grabbing at your limbs, he secured them with much care. There was no way you could run, not with him right there. Your eyes blinked open, taking in the terrible sight. But before you could scream, his hand wrapped around your throat all tight.
"Listen here, and listen good. Don't make a single sound or I'll paint the house red, do I make myself clear?"
With the nod of your head, he let go of you. "Let's hope you listen or you're as good as dead."
As you stared up at him, you understood that your fate was to be quite grim. He was dressed in all white, from his head to his toes, but his clothes were all tarnished with blood from tonight. A glint of gunmetal was strapped to his hip, and he looked like he was quite ready to unload a clip.
His eyes—how they were filled his madness. His snarl, how scary! Oh for mercy, you prayed to God, Jesus, and Mary.
He tugged you up to your face, dragging you straight out the door. You thought it couldn't get worse, but the universe proved there was always more. For your roommate had returned, just stepped through the door. But before she could even scream, her body hit the floor. You stared at where she once stood, your eyes only filled with horror.
"Careful, little bitch, or you'll end up like her."
A wink of his eye and a great big grin soon gave you to know he would always win. He spoke not a word, but pulled you out into the night, and only laughed when you put up a fight. Straight to his truck was where you went, and he seemed mighty pleased with his little present.
"Be good, little bitch, and you'll have nothing to fear." He drove away from your home, and his intent was quite clear. "Though, you know that's not true, don't you, dear?"
You squeezed your eyes shut, and you pretended to disappear. Seeing your discomfort, he couldn't help but jeer, "Scared? Good, 'cause my bark's not nearly as bad as my bite."
You tried to ignore him but heard him say as he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to me, and to all a terrible night!"
