Jingle My Bells (Santa X Male! Reader)

A restless night

You lie awake in bed.
You've been awake for hours.
It's usually reasonably easy for you to fall asleep, but you just can't seem to drift off tonight, even with the help of 2 melatonin tablets and some hot tea.
It just so happens, that tonight is christmas eve.
You roll over onto your side to check the time.

2:27

A chill rolls down your spine, and a sudden dread interrupts your introspection. You hear a few bumps outside of your window. It seems to be coming from the roof, but It can't be Santa. He isn't real.
Right?
A swift crashing noise fills your ears and a second chill rolls down your spine.

You hear a shuffling noise make its way up the roof, as it scratches the tiles, and you hear a swift thump coming from your living room. You quickly grab your phone from the charger, and shove it in your sweatshirt pocket.

Just incase.

You creep through the hallway, and halfway down the stairs. The man in the living room shuffles into your line of view.
He's large.
So very large.

You try to focus your eyesight on the heaping figure, and after a few seconds of squinting, you let out a small gasp.

It can't be.

Just as you're having this realization, the fat man makes his way to the fireplace. A sudden jolt of energy fills you, and you race down the steps as quickly as you can. The man stops dead in his tracks, and whirls around to face you.

"Santa?"

"Why are you awake Y/N? Good boys don't stay up this late."

"I couldn't sleep. Are you in a hurry?"
You ask him sheepishly.

"Yes, always. You should get to sleep, Y/N."
He sounds almost concerned for you.

"Would you mind staying for a few minutes?"

"I suppose a few minutes couldn't hurt."

You sit down on the couch, and he follows you.

"So what's it like being the Santa?"

His face takes on an almost startled expression.

"That's a question with many answers, I suppose."

You pat the spot on the couch next to you, signalling him to take a seat, and he complies. Your body is lifted slightly as he sits, due to his immense mass.

You look at his face. His cheeks are pink, but not as pink as they were earlier. Cherry red seems like a bit of an overstatement.

"Are you cold? Do you want some coffee?"
He looks down at you. He's so much taller, and his expression looms over you, like an umbrella in a storm. You feel safe looking into his eyes.

"No thank you. Mrs. Clause put me on a very strict diet, and caffeine tends to make me hang on to water weight."

"Mrs.?"
You ask, without thinking.

"What?"
He probably didn't hear you.

"How's your wife?"

"She's fine, but our marriage isn't. We've hit a sort of rough patch lately."

"Oh."
You start to blush uncontrollably. Thank god it's dark, or he would know that you're interested in him.

An overwhelming urge floods your senses. You crave something, but you don't know what.

He begins to speak. Probably about his marriage, but you're not paying attention. You're just listening to his voice. Your mind trails off, and eventually the urge starts to grow. You recognize the urge now. It's not like you haven't had sex before, and you definitely knew that you needed it tonight. You look into Santa's eyes, and put your hand on his thigh. He looks down into your eyes. His blue orbs glisten just like ice.
He puts his hand over yours.

You can feel his warm breath on your forehead.
He's quiet.
You pull your knees up onto the couch, and kneel next to him. You reach up to his face, and remove his glasses. He stares into your eyes intently.
Expectedly.
His expression reads hungry, but not for milk and cookies.
For something else.
You're desperate to relieve the urge building up inside you. You grab the sides of his face, and press your mouth into his.

His lips are soft, and you lick the outside of his mouth, asking for entry. He let's you in, and your tongue slips through his lips. You explore his mouth, as he strokes your tongue with his. You climb onto his lap, and position your bulge next to his.

You move your face away from his, and look down at his lap. He stares into your soul with flirtatious eyes.

Sexual eyes.

Hungry eyes.

You nod at him, and move your hands from his face, to his belt. You don't have any time to tease him. The knot in your abdomen grows, and you slide the buckle along the belt as fast as you can. Santa takes off his hat, and places it on the lamp next to the couch. He removes his coat, and moves you off his lap to take off his boots, and his pants.

Once his winter clothes have been shucked off, he picks you up, almost effortlessly, and swiftly places you back on his lap. You stare at his member. It's erect, and large.

So very large.

You take hold of it with both hands, and work your magic.

A symphony of moans escapes the man's mouth. The louder he gets, the more you want to satisfy him. Precum  escapes the tip, and drips into your mouth. He grasps your boxers, and signals for you to stop sucking. You feel his large hands struggle to pull the elastic of your boxers down. He places you directly on his erect member, and you wimper. It hurts, but it feels so right. You begin to bounce up and down on him, and he lets out more moans.
Louder moans.
The knot in your stomach grows, and you bounce faster. His breathing speeds up, and suddenly, he jolts. You let out a small gasp as your urge is fulfilled. He climaxes so loudly, that you turn around to hush him so he doesn't wake the neighbors. You can't afford to get any more noise complaints.

You roll over onto your side, and pick your boxers up off of the floor, and put them back on. You'll clean up in the morning. You attempt to stand up to retrieve Santa's pants and coat, but you find yourself unable. You are incredibly sore, and Santa seems to understand. He smiles and tussles your hair, letting you know you did a good job. He puts his clothes back on while you curl up on the couch, exhausted. Before he leaves, he lays a blanket on your cold tired body, and he whispers in your ear:
"You just got yourself on the nice list."

A/N:
I'M SO SORRY THIS IS A JOKE AND I GOT CARRIED AWAY I JUST WASTED AN HOUR OF MY LIFE WRITING THIS BULLSHIT WHAT THE HELL