#David August
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Wanna see an indie film I’m in? Dependent’s Day is a romcom about her taking him as a dependent on her taxes and hilarity ensuing.
It’s on Amazon, free if you’ve got Amazon Prime (in the US) and waiting for you to watch it: https://bit.ly/primedd
#support indie creators#support indie film#indie#film#indie film#movie#movies#romcom#romantic comedy#joe burke#benita robledo#shannon lucio#david august#lisa ann walter
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𝙶𝚒𝚏 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 🏄♀️
You were first in mind
Nobody else
Take your time
I wouldn't waste my eyes
With anyone else
I'll be the first in mind
Set me on, Set me on fire
Set me on, Set me on fire
Set me on, Set me on fire
Set me on, Set me on fire
I wouldn't wait to find
Anything else
Make my mind
You're not the boring kind
Like everyone else
Make me smile
Set me on, Set me on fire
Set me on, Set me on fire
Set me on, Set me on fire
Set me on, Set me on 🔥
Set Me On - David August Remix by Qtier
@shadowanndeath 🪩
#withoutmusiclifewouldbeamistake
#Dancinginthedark
#ineedtodancethefuckout
#wonderfulicoudcry 😭
#miafuckingwallace
#intomysoul
#im crying 😭#wonderful i could cry#lost in stereo#2/2023#god is a dj#Qtier#DAVID AUGUST#deep house#track of the day#intomysoul#pulp fiction#mia fucking wallace#mia wallace#withoutmusiclifewouldbeamistake#without music life would be a mistake#dance the pain away#dancing in the dark#international beats#exploring music#x-heesy#music#fucking favorite#now playing#spotify#music and art#gif moodboard#mood in between
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#Aktionshaus#99Chants#Nastya Vogan#Mohammad Reza Mortazavi#Hiba Baddou#David August#Ludwig Wandinger
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objects in art: swords/daggers
#artist is rembrandt van rijn#artist is satnislaw clebowski#artist is august riedel#artist is frank cadogan cowper#artist is unknown#artist is caravaggio#artist is benjamin west#artist is zoe-laure de chatillon#artist is hans holbein the younger#artist is edmund blair leighton#artist is eglon van der neer#cant find artist#artist is eleanor fortescue brickdale#artist is edmund blair leighton-#artist is pietro della vecchia#artist is dante gabriel rossetti#artist is sir john gilbert#artist is rambrandt van rijn#artist is ferdinand bol#artist is matthias grunewald#artist is david klocker ehrenstrahl#artist is nc wyeth#artist is charles robert leslie#artist is albert eckhout#artist is amico fruilano del dosso#artist is maestro de francfort#artist is valentine cameron prinsep#artist is vincenzo catena#artist is geergen tot sint jans#art history
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Me: Once Upon a Time season 1 is so cozy and comforting :)
ouat s1: government corruption, a woman almost having to give her baby away against her will, a mine collapsing with a child inside, a girl locked in a mental hospital, arson, homeless children needing to steal to survive, said homeless children almost getting separated in the foster care system, infidelity, drugging and kidnapping, attempted muder, actual murder, a murder trial that has nothing to do with the real actual murder, a man slowly and painfully turning into wood, etc.
#it’s the walkable small town vibes#once upon a time#ouat#ouat s1#once upon a time season 1#emma swan#henry mills#regina mills#august booth#belle french#Jefferson ouat#rumplestiltskin#rumplestiltskin ouat#mary margaret blanchard#david nolan#Snow White ouat#prince charming ouat
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I just watched thirty-six hours of Bernard Shaw and Bobbie Batista, I'm about ready to kill somebody too.
David Duchovny as Fox Mulder in The X-Files S03E23 'Wetwired'
#apparently i post one of these on the fifteenth of each month now#the miracle man set i did was on the same day in august#coincidence? 🤔#and he is still as gender as ever!#x files#the x files#david duchovny#fox mulder#s03e23#wetwired#the scientist speaks#my gifs#dailytxf#txfedit#notes: 300
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Summer Sonic, Osaka 18.08.24
#damiano david#ethan torchio#victoria de angelis#thomas raggi#måneskin#maneskin#summer sonic osaka#august 2024
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Le Figaro-modes : à la ville, au théâtre, arts décoratifs, no. 32, août 1905, Paris. Modèle, Bechoff-David. Photo Reutlinger. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney
#Le Figaro-modes#20th century#1900s#1905#periodical#fashion#fashion plate#color#photograph#Forney#dress#parasol#gigot#Modèles de chez#Maison Bechoff-David#august color plates#Reutlinger
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Listening to my episode with Kevin Ryan on his Tyrant in Training podcast, and reliving the adventure! It was fun to rule an island.
Listen here: https://tyrant-in-training.podcastpage.io/episode/tyrant-in-training-episode-43-david-august-the-david-of-the-augustian-islands
#improv#comedy#improv comedy#james bond#tyrant in training#podcast#episode#funny#tyrant#kevin ryan#david august
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The Eggnog Effect
Nicomund the Red | Santa Claus x F!Reader
Summary: You passed out on your friend's couch and wake up to find Santa Claus leaving a gift for your godchild.
WC: 6.2k // Explicit 🔞
Warnings: Christmas smut, bad jokes and cheesy wordplays
For @roguesandsaviors who's love for David Harbour triggered me into trying my hand at writing smut for someone else than Jon 😁
Also on AO3
You frowned as you slowly woke up, wondering about the small tinkling sound that got you out of your slumber in the first place. Cracking one eye open, you tried to make out your immediate surroundings, but your face was smushed into a pillow. A throw pillow, to be more precise.
Ever since the birth of your godchild, your best friend and husband had started asking you to spend Christmas Eve with them. How could you say no to witnessing the kid’s eyes growing big with wonder after discovering the presents lying underneath the Christmas tree?
Usually, though, you spent the night in the guest bedroom and not on the living room couch. You berated yourself for the sore neck you were likely getting from the sleeping position and grumbling internally about the long hours spent at work today that resulted in your exhaustion when you heard that noise again.
Blinking and opening both eyes now, you glimpsed some movement to the side of the couch, where you knew the Christmas tree to be. As you twisted to your back, your eyes caught onto something red and large and…
“Oh God, I really need to leave off the eggnog next time… I’m actually seeing Santa now,” you groaned and quickly rubbed over your tired eyes.
Except that there was that tinkling again, more agitated, which made you open your eyes once more only to be met by the sight of a large man standing stock still just a few feet away from you. His wide eyes stared at you with a mix of panic and annoyance.
“Oh shit,” you breathed as realization sank in, and you understood that your brain wasn’t playing tricks on you but that there was a stranger in the house and… You opened your mouth to scream, but the man was on you in a fraction of a second. A large palm covered the entire lower half of your face and stopped you from uttering any sound, while the other hand held the man up on the armrest under your head.
“Shhh,” he hissed, his eyes lifting to the entrance of the living room to check if anyone was coming, before they bore into yours.
Oddly enough, and maybe it was still the eggnog talking, you didn’t try to fight, despite the way his large frame loomed over you. You didn’t move at all, actually, as you met his gaze. The only thought going through your mind was, oh, he’s got blue eyes. You stayed in the same position for several more seconds, his eyes never leaving yours as he assessed the situation. Realizing that you weren’t going to out him, the man slowly removed his hand from you and stood. You stayed where you were, observing him curiously; the white blond curly beard and hair under an askew red and white cap, the deep red leather coat lined with white fur spanning over a wide chest and shoulders, a pair of shiny, black boots. Everything about him screamed Santa Claus, but he was also nothing like the various men playing Santa in malls and other places. Those other Santas had also never elicited such a strong response from your body, either.
“Who are you?” you breathed, mindful to keep your voice down, when really, the question should have been what are you doing here? Or, what do you want?
“Who do you think I am?” he grumbled, while you watched him glare at a small bag and rummage around in it with a frustrated expression.
Your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets when the man thrust his whole arm into the bag, and it just vanished inside, which should have been impossible given how tiny the bag was compared to his arm.
“Where the fuck is it?”
“I didn’t know that Santa swears,” you snorted at the absolutely crazy sight in front of you.
“He does when the presents aren’t where they’re fucking meant to be,” he muttered, before his face turned into a satisfied grin. “Aha.” His arm slowly came back out, followed by a large, neatly wrapped present.
You blinked in rapid succession as you took in the size of the present and the size of the bag again. Yup, something was definitely up. A bicycle, for a five-year-old or not, would never fit in that bag if something… You snorted to yourself as the word magical ran through your mind. Don’t be ridiculous, you thought to yourself. But then the man pulled out an actual scroll of parchment, which started to glow as he pulled it apart. Sitting up, you stared at the man as he scanned the contents of the scroll with a thoughtful look.
“What’s that? Your naughty and nice list?” you sniggered, while pulling your legs under you on the couch and letting your eyes drift over him appreciatively.
“Mmhm,” he replied absently, seemingly looking for something in particular.
Your eyebrows rose in surprise at his easy admittance, before you began laughing under your breath.
“Tell me, Santa. Am I on your naughty list?” You leaned your head against your palm and rested your elbow on the armrest, smirking as you drawled the word naughty.
“Nope,” he answered instantly, while your flirty expression went completely unseen since he still didn’t look at you.
You frowned curiously at his reply and tilted your head to one side before slowly getting up and approaching him. This, at least, seemed to catch his attention because his eyes snapped to you as soon as you moved. He watched you with a slight frown. Curious.
“You sure?” you grinned.
This was all absolutely crazy. There was a fucking stranger in your friends’ house, pretending to be Santa and looking damn fine in that role, yet here you were, flirting outrageously with him anyway, when flirting usually felt awkward to you. The eggnog definitely was at play here.
He chuckled and said your name. Your full name, which had you stopping dead in your tracks as you stared at him with wide eyes.
“You’ve never been on the naughty list once,” he finished with a shrug.
“How… Who…”
How could he know your name? If he were a burglar, he’d probably only know your friends’ names since they were on the mailbox. He could have looked them up and seen your name popup in your best friend’s feeds on social media, but to what end? He’d just left a goddamn bike for your godchild instead of taking something. And that bag? That wasn’t a trick.
The man sighed deeply. “Adults,” he muttered, before thinking for a second. “Do you remember what you wished for on Christmas when you were eight?”
Taken aback by the question, you frowned and thought for a second before memories hit you, and you nodded as you opened your mouth to reply. Except that he said the same thing as you did at the exact same time as you. You took in a sharp breath of surprise. How could he know that? It was far too specific to be a random guess. Only if…
“So what are you going to do when you leave? Pull a Men In Black and wipe my memory or something?” You crossed your arms with a chuckle as your brain accepted the crazy truth.
He snorted and shrugged. “Trust me, the very few people who have actually seen me have never talked about me. And if they did,” he trailed off with another meaningful shrug that clearly said, who’s gonna believe them?
You nodded faintly at his logic. He wasn’t wrong.
“I’m curious, though… What’s your actual name? Santa? Kris? Nick?” You headed to where your godchild had left the cookies and milk and picked up the plate with the cookies. You chose one for yourself and offered one to… Santa.
He took a cookie but didn’t look away from you, his head shaking in amusement a second later.
“Really? Of all the things you could ask, that’s what you wanna know?”
You shrugged and bit off a piece of cookie, the man doing the same before he glanced down at it with an appreciative sound and nod, then looked into your expectant face again.
“You can call me whatever you want. The list is pretty long.”
“But none of them are correct,” you surmised, watching him reach for the milk glass and taking a large gulp. “How about… Daddy Christmas?”
You had to hold back your loud laugh as he sprayed his mouthful all over his front at your words. He tried to cough as silently as he could and shot you a death glare as you stood there with a satisfied grin on your face.
“Am I on the naughty list yet?”
His nostrils flared as he wiped crumbs and milk off his beard and coat before he stalked over towards you until he was in your face.
“You should be more careful with what you wish for, girl,” he growled, yet instead of feeling threatened, you felt more than turned on.
“Oh? What are you gonna do? Give me your big lump of coal?” you breathed, loving how big and tall he was.
Santa blinked at you once, twice, then burst into laughter, which had you smiling broadly.
“Gotta admit, this was a new one.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but something chimed close by, which had him checking his watch. “Fuck!”
Picking up two other cookies, he headed towards the fireplace and lifted a finger to his nose, sparks firing as he did so, but then he looked back at you.
“Nicomund,” he said softly, which had your eyes widen at the revelation of his name.
He smiled and pressed his gloved finger against his nose.
“Merry Christmas.”
He was gone in a swish of golden sparks a second later.
One year later
Dressed in a festive pair of pajamas, you yawed widely as you looked at the clock sitting in the midst of Christmas decorations on the mantelpiece. You stretched your arms over your head and shook your head to try fending the sleepiness off.
You were back at your friends’ house and sitting on the same couch as last year. Last year, when you’d met the actual Santa Claus. You’d spent weeks doing research on the origins of Christmas, yet none of the results had been conclusive in any form. You’d guessed that people truly didn’t usually see him like he’d told you. After a while, you almost wanted to believe that the whole thing had only been a dream, coming from too much eggnog and sleep-deprivation. Except that he’d given you his name. Nicomund. You couldn’t have dreamed that up. The name had actually given you some vague results as you’d given it in. Nicomund the Red, a former viking warrior. Who was supposed to have lived over a thousand years ago. Considering what you’d witnessed, you didn’t even think it that farfetched that they could be one and the same person. The way he’d talked had clearly hinted at the fact that he’d been doing this for a very long time. He knew who you were. Even as a child. Yet, he didn’t look older than his late forties or early fifties.
As much as you enjoyed loosing yourself in fantasies in books and so on, you considered yourself as a pragmatic person in real life. You liked facts and magic, while a fun concept, had never seemed like something real. And yet… After what you’d seen…
That’s why you wanted to stay awake on Christmas Eve. Prove that you hadn’t actually dreamed everything up. And you might have also wanted to see him again, just because. It was ridiculous. You hadn’t been able to go on a date the whole past year, Nicomund popping up in your head at random times. The way you’d felt attracted to him had left you reeling. He’d been in full Santa gear, yet all you’d been able to see were his blue eyes, his large frame and drawling deep voice, the combination lighting your entire body up.
Your eyes drifted to the clock again, watching the time slowly approach one in the morning. Resting your head against the couch, you closed your eyes and sighed. A very comfortable bed was waiting for you just down the hall, and your body wanted nothing more than to sink into it and sleep after the long day you’d had again. But what if you missed him? Your fingers curled around a folded up piece of paper resting on your lap. Just in case, you’d written him a note, requesting him to wake you up if you were to fall asleep. With your eyes still closed, you smirked to yourself at the few lines you’d written. Maybe you could tell him yourself later. You would open your eyes in a second. You were just resting them a bit.
Weren’t you supposed to be asleep for Santa to show up?
The next thing you heard was a loud and excited scream coming from close by, having you jerk awake in your bed… Bed? Sitting up quickly, you realized that you were lying in the guest bedroom. When had you moved there? The last thing you remembered was that you’d been sitting on the couch and fiddling with the note. The thought of the note had you looking all around yourself and the floor, yet there was nothing there. Quickly getting up and slipping into a pair of warm slippers, you almost ran to the living room to look for the note. The only thing you found was your godchild gushing about the presents sitting under the tree, your friends standing around him with broad smiles.
“Merry Christmas,” they called at nearly the same time as they saw you walk in.
Tearing your eyes away from the couch and the floor, you schooled your features into a bright smile and replied in kind, hugging the couple and then kneeling to do the same to their kid. You helped rip into the wrappings and forced yourself to focus on what was going on around you.
As the day went on, you never found the note, but you were still absolutely certain that Nicomund had been the one to get you into bed. You might have been exhausted, but you would have remembered it if you’d gotten up to go to bed on your own. Disappointment shot through you at the realization that you wouldn’t get the chance to see him again until the next year. If at all.
Later that same day, you had dinner with your family, which served to take your mind off things for several hours. It wasn’t until later that night and once you’d returned to your place well after midnight and gotten ready for bed, that you sighed dejectedly again. In your pajamas and leaning against the counter of the open kitchen that looked into the living room, you slowly sipped water from a glass when your fireplace made a sputtering noise. Frowning, you put the glass down behind you and walked into the living room, only to yelp in surprise when golden sparks appeared and formed into the shape of a man a few feet away from you.
“Holy shit,” you whispered, eyes wide and heart racing.
Nicomund met your gaze and smirked at your gobsmacked expression.
“Merry Christmas,” he rumbled.
Your mouth moved silently as your eyes slowly took in his appearance. Gone were the red coat and hat, instead he was wearing a loose, off-white colored shirt and had his hair pulled up in a messy bun, showing off more of his handsome face. The V in the shirt’s neckline revealed the beginning of circular tattoos with what appeared to be runes. All the air rushed out of your lungs at the whole sight. He definitely wasn’t Santa right now, meaning that it really wasn’t the outfit that did it for you, since you were getting even more turned on than the previous year.
“What are you doing here?” you croaked, your mind having a hard time realizing that he was standing in your living room. “Christmas is over.”
“It is, yeah… I thought you wanted to see me.” He put his bare hands into the pockets of his red pants and tilted his head at you.
Your eyebrows lifted at that. “Why didn’t you wake me up then?” you muttered, pursing your lips slightly.
“Not enough time,” he answered easily, eyeing you slowly.
“For what?” you breathed, swallowing at the way he was staring at you. The way he'd said it hinted at more than just him running behind schedule.
“I got your note,” he said instead, and pulled the neatly folded paper out of one of his pockets, scanning it lazily after unfolding it. “You got real creative.” He lifted his gaze to yours briefly, the eye contact and implications of his words having heat rushing to your face.
Biting over your bottom lip and taking strength in the knowledge that he came to find you once he’d been done with delivering presents, you grinned at him cheekily.
“You said that I was never on your naughty list, so I figured that I could get a reward for having been such a good girl over the years.”
You took a step closer to him, seeing him watching you attentively, expression unreadable.
“And that’s what you had in mind?” His eyes went back to your note. “Dear Santa, I’ve been particularly good this year. Please let me play with your Christmas ornaments and suck on your candy cane. And while Santa Claus is coming to town, I’ll be sure to show how good I can go to town on Santa Claus. And please don’t forget to stuff my Christmas stockings with your big present. Hoe, hoe, hoe, Merry Christmas.”
Hearing him read the note out loud in that husky drawl had all the heat from your face rushing down your body. You couldn’t even feel the slightest bit of embarrassment at your silly wordplay, especially when you could see the corner of his mouth pulling up as he read, while his voice deepened by the end. His eyes lifted to yours once he was done, before he let them travel over your body. Slowly, taking all of you in, his blue eyes dark in the half light cast by the living room lamp. Your lips parted as soft pants left your mouth, your heart rate picking up at his intense perusal.
“May I have my Christmas present now?” you breathed after taking a step closer and leaving you only a few inches away from him.
He huffed out an amused laugh, but you didn’t miss the way he lightly leaned towards you, his large chest moving up and down faster.
“Show me how good you can be,” he rumbled, as he let go of the note, which fluttered to the floor.
As you reached for his face with one of your hands, you caught his surprised expression when your fingers gently ran along his bearded jaw and towards the back of his head to pull him towards your mouth. Considering the low sound he made as your lips met, he had nothing against kissing, he seemed more surprised by your gentle touch, that you wanted more than just something frenzied and fast. But you did want. Corny and over the top sexual Christmas wordplay aside, you really wanted the man. All of him.
Slipping your tongue along his while slightly pulling at his hair, Nicomund growled and pushed into you, his hands moving into action as they travelled around your waist and down to your ass. His beard tickled deliciously around your mouth as he kissed you back fiercely. The first physical proof of his arousal pressed against you, making your breath catch at the size you could feel. Taking a step back away from him, you quickly found his eyes as you sunk to your knees before him. Nicomund’s breath came in short pants as his dark eyes watched you lifting your hands to the fastenings of his red pants. You took your time pulling the golden buttons from their respective holes, while you could see his erection straining the fabric just below. After you were done, you tugged the pants and underwear down enough to reveal his length. Unable to keep your eyes away, you finally looked at his gorgeous cock, proudly standing away from his body, the head red and shiny with pre-come.
“As red as Rudolf’s nose,” you muttered lightly, almost to yourself, except that Nicomund heard every word.
“Fuck, you’re terrible. Don’t make me change my mind,” he grumbled, sounding between amused and exasperated.
Slipping out of the top half of your pajamas to reveal your breasts, you glanced up at him with a smirk.
“You really wanna stop, Daddy Christmas?” you teased, right before leaning forward to lick up a long stripe from the base to the top of his cock.
His body went rigid at the touch, while he groaned. Suddenly, one of his hands was in your hair, the fingers sliding against your scalp and moving your head up, so you had no choice but to look at him. A long moan slipped free from you at the treatment, which had Nicomund grinning in satisfaction.
“You’re not really being a good girl right now, y’know. Bein’ a lil tease and all. Thought you wanted to show me how good you can be.” His voice was low and washed over you in a delicious wave, stoking your lust further.
Nodding instead of replying verbally, you let your mouth fall open and your tongue peek out in invitation. Nicomund hummed, pleased, and guided you towards his cock.
“There we go,” he rasped, as he slowly slid over your tongue, stretching your lips with his girth.
Once he was as far as you could manage without gagging, he stopped moving. His hand remained in your hair, but he neither pushed nor pulled, waiting for you to decide what to do next. You kept him like this for as long as was comfortable before you slowly drew back and gently suckled over the head, while you wrapped your fingers around him. Nicomund groaned as you angled his cock up for you to tongue and suck under the head, teasing the sensitive nerves. You took your time sucking all over him, savoring the sounds you could get out of him, your body heating whenever he cursed under his breath when you did something he particularly enjoyed.
Listening to his breaths picking up speed and feeling his hips jerking as he got closer to release, you were surprised when he gently removed you off him with the same hand as before. Lifting your head since you had expected – wanted – him to come in your mouth, you gazed at him in confusion. He reached for one of your arms and pulled you to your feet before he was kissing you hungrily. Which you didn’t mind in the slightest, as you folded your arms around his chest to answer in kind, your nipples hardening as they rubbed against the material of his shirt.
“Wanna be inside you,” he admitted roughly, talking against your mouth.
You keened in the back of your throat and nodded fervently. How could you not want that?
“Yes,” you hissed, kissing him deeply.
“Bed?” he rasped, and it took your brain a second to get your body to move.
“Yeah, okay.” You took his hand and pulled him out of the living room and towards your bedroom.
Inside the room, Nicomund drew you back to him for a quick kiss before he bent over to pull down your pajama pants and get them off you. You clutched at his shoulders as he divested you of the clothes.
“Sit on the edge of the bed,” he ordered, having your move instantly.
You observed him through hooded eyes and pressed your legs together at the tingle of anticipation running through your core as you watched him undress. You would have loved to do it for him, but this gave you the opportunity to let your eyes feast on him as he revealed his tattooed body, the shirt falling to the floor. He was large and strong, but with a softness around his belly that had your fingers prickling with the desire to touch. His hair was a mess of curls, in and out of the hairband holding it back. You expected him to remove the rest of his clothes and stared into his face questioningly when he didn’t, only to realize that he was already watching you. Stepping towards you and making you spread your legs for him to stand between them, Nicomund towered over you as he gazed down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.
“Thought you might want me to keep them on. So you don’t forget who exactly is fucking you.”
Your whole body heated with lust and embarrassment alike. You wanted to open your mouth to explain that you didn’t have a Santa kink, that you’d never thought of Santa in that way, but after the jokes you’d made, you couldn’t fault him for teasing you about it. Only, you didn’t care who he was. You’d have wanted him the same way had he been the Sandman, or just a normal man as well. And to be honest, having him almost fully clothed while you were naked was also turning you on.
“Is it time for your big present, then?” You bit over your bottom lip as you stared up at him with a hopeful expression.
Chuckling, Nicomund leaned down to your eye level.
“Not yet,” he hedged, and knelt between your legs. “First I gotta get a taste of your…” He thought for a second. “Cookie.”
Your eyes widened at the unexpected wordplay and what it meant. He didn’t give you the time to further react as he grabbed your hips to pull them halfway over the edge of the bed and sink between your legs. You barely had the time to catch yourself with your hands behind you on the bed at the first swipe of his tongue over your wet folds. Crying out at the hotness of his tongue combined with the soft scratching of his beard on your sensitive skin, you fought to keep your eyes open to watch him. Heat ran through you at the way he so clearly took pleasure in eating you out. He took his time doing it too, at first only giving you broad licks that didn’t hold that much strength and mostly served to wind you slowly up as his tongue became more precise. Your eyes fluttered, and you panted once he began using the tip of his tongue to run maddening circles around your exposed clit. As you were getting louder and louder the stronger the pressure of his tongue became, Nicomund suddenly stopped and, instead, focused his attention on your inner thighs, kissing and teasing his beard across your skin. Your legs quivered from the change of pace, and you wanted nothing more than to bring his head back to where it had been. He seemed content to keep torturing you, however, and you knew in that moment that you would be dealing with beard burn the next day.
“Nicomund… please?” you breathed on a whimper, gazing down at him and catching his eye as he looked up at you without stopping his ministrations.
Your expression seemed to trigger something in him because his mouth and tongue were back on your clit in the next second. You had to throw your head back at the explosive pleasure shooting through you as his lips surrounded that little bundle of nerves, and he sucked on it enthusiastically. You screamed in bliss and tangled your fingers in his hair, silently begging him to stay right there. From the way he growled, he had no intention of going anywhere anyway. He pressed his thumbs into your thighs, pushing your legs further open and pulling your folds apart as his mouth ripped more and more delirious sounds from you. As two of his fingers slowly sank into you and curled up to start fucking you, your whole body wrapped over his head, your orgasm hitting you with such intensity that your legs locked against Nicomund’s shoulders.
While you were slowly coming back to yourself, Nicomund kissed his way up your mound, hip and belly, his soft touches making your body shake with more than just the aftershocks, your entire body feeling sensitized. When he reached your stomach, you cupped his head with your hands and leaned down to kiss him deeply. His beard was damp, while his lips still tasted like you, having a new shiver of desire going through you. Nicomund grunted into your mouth as he knelt up, curling one arm around your waist while the other held him up behind your back. Without ever breaking the kiss, he got to his feet and leaned over you until you were almost lying on the bed. You moved up the bed with his help, just enough for him to get his knees on the mattress and pull your legs over his thighs properly. Meanwhile, your hands took their time exploring his body, running all over his back and sides, reveling in his size and comforting weight on top of you. Your fingers encountered a few scares as they went, bringing the reminder of your research back to mind. Only fights and battles could explain the size and placements of some of them. And then there were the tattoos. Santa Claus was an ancient Viking warrior. The concept was absolutely wild, but you put the wayward thought to the side in favor of focusing on the whole man on top of you.
Nicomund lifted his head a few inches and held himself over you to look into your face. He was breathing hard, sweat starting to form at his temples, his eyes traveling between your lips and eyes. You looked at him dazedly and smiled before lifting your head, keeping your eyes open, to press your mouth against his. You repeated the action a few more times, seeing his chest rise and fall faster each time.
“Are you going to make me beg again?” you whispered, your lips grazing his.
He chuckled and stroked a thick thumb over your jaw.
“Please, Santa, pour your milk all over my-”
His mouth crashed into yours, effectively shutting you up, but unable to stop you from giggling.
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he growled, shifting on top of you.
“But cookies always need – oh fuck!”
This time, his method was more convincing, as he used your momentarily distraction while you teased him to line up with your entrance and push inside you in one long and powerful slide.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and threw your head back as he had you crying out with each snap of his hips, his length making you feel as full as you’d wished for. Nicomund mouthed around your jawline, grunting into your skin as he thrust into you repeatedly. Leaning your head forward again, you drew his mouth in for an open-mouthed kiss, sucking and biting his bottom lip, trying to give back as much as you could in your position. It seemed to be enough for him, since he slammed into you harder, groaning as you moaned even louder while your inner walls pulsed around him.
“Feel so good,” you moaned, your voice breathy and high-pitched, your legs curling over his thighs as extreme pleasure unfurled inside you again.
“Fuck,” he gritted out roughly, staring down at you with burning eyes. “You gonna come for me again?”
You nodded. “Please? Nicomund… Please!”
You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of this man on top of you, making you feel needy like never before. With his large frame, glistening with sweat and strong arms holding him up at your sides as his hips drove you higher and higher, piercing blue eyes roving over your face.
“Yeah, come on, go ahead. Been such a good girl for me. Such a good-”
His words cut off as you exploded around him at the praise, a long wail of ecstasy coming through your mouth, before you pulled his mouth back onto yours for a desperate kiss. After several more thrusts, Nicomund groaned as one of his hands shifted to your hair and formed a fist in it. He tugged at it to expose your jaw to breathe against it as he fucked in and out of you at a fast pace. Still overwhelmed by your second orgasm, you let him move you the way he needed and only linked your arms tightly around his shoulders, small, pleasured whimpers leaving you. When he came, his whole body shuddered over yours, his hips jerking repeatedly as he emptied himself inside you with a long groan.
Neither of you moved as you simply rested for a few minutes, savoring the afterglow while you gently combed your fingers through his hair.
“Mmh… this was definitely worth waiting a whole year for,” you mumbled sleepily, the long day catching up to you at last.
Nicomund chuckled warmly and raised his head from where it had been resting against your shoulder. You grinned up at him and stroked your fingers along his beard before letting them trail down his shoulders, your eyes following their path, as he moved further up.
“Nicomund the Red,” you muttered quietly, swirling an index over a circular tattoo on his chest. They were all gorgeous and reached down to both of his arms.
You felt him go still under your hands and met his stunned gaze. You smiled softly, keeping up your exploration.
“I like research,” you explained with a small shrug. “Didn’t find much, really, but I couldn’t…” You looked away from his face.
“Couldn’t what?” he asked in a quiet rumble.
“You read the note, Nicomund… I didn’t start thinking about writing it only yesterday,” you hedged.
This was as much as you wanted to reveal about how often you’d thought about him this past year. Sure, you’d been attracted to him from the get go and had fun with all the wordplay, but you’d also been genuinely intrigued by him.
Nicomund didn’t say anything for a beat, but then shifted your bodies until he was slipping out of you and rolling you to your side to face him.
He cleared his throat. “Well… I was kinda wondering if you’d be at your friends’ again.”
You uttered a small, happy laugh at his admittance and closed your eyes. The feeling only lasted a moment as you realized that he wouldn’t be staying, however. Nicomund was still Santa Claus, for crying out loud. Your smile turned sad as you fully realized that this couldn’t go anywhere. Opening your eyes and staring at his chest, you kept tracing the tattoos quietly, thinking.
“Will you come back next year?” you finally brought yourself to ask, your eyes still downcast.
A warm palm stroked over your jaw and tilted your head up to meet warm blue eyes.
“Only if you stay off the naughty list,” he said, going for humor to lift the suddenly heavier mood, but his smile was slightly off.
You couldn’t help but snort anyway and gave him a small smile, the implications of his comment clear. You’d always been on the nice list, so surely…
“No promises,” you whispered, having him huffing out a small laugh this time, while his fingers ran along the back of your neck in a wonderfully soothing way.
Your eyes slowly fell close, your fingers stopping their path on his skin as his touch lulled you to sleep. You were completely unable to fight it and soon, the last thing you felt were soft lips on your forehead.
With no surprise, you were alone the next morning.
One week later.
Two hours past the new year, after your friends had left, and you’d put the night’s dinner leftovers in the fridge, you sank onto the couch with a glass of eggnog. You stared at the liquid with bleary eyes, smiling to yourself as you thought of Nicomund. It was a bittersweet thought, but you tried to keep any sadness away whenever you thought of him. Still slightly tipsy, you berated yourself for missing the opportunity to make a bad joke with eggnog. Maybe you should write it in next Christmas’ note. You could already see him rolling his eyes at you and grinned.
Taking a sip and leaning your head back over the couch, you let your mind drift to the moment when you’d been lying face to face, his hands in your hair.
A whoosh of air suddenly went through the living room, having you gasp and sit upright again. Your mouth fell open at the now familiar golden sparks coming through the fireplace. A few seconds later, you were looking into Nicomund’s face.
“Happy new year?” he rumbled tentatively.
Standing and looking at your glass, you put it down on the coffee table and tilted your head at him.
“I should really, really leave off the eggnog,” you said as you approached him. “I’m starting to see Santa at New Year.”
“Maybe you’ll see me at Easter too,” he smirked, leaning towards you as you cupped his face to kiss him.
#Nicomund x reader#violent night#santa x reader#reader insert#violent night fanfiction#david harbour#christmas smut#yes I'm aware it's August 🤣
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OUAT + Texts From Last Night [part 2]
#ouat tfln#ouat#once upon a time#regina mills#mary margaret blanchard#dr whale#emma swan#august booth#david nolan#tamara#texts from last night#swan queen#dragon queen#outlaw queen#fairy queen
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THIS IS MY HENRY
#LOOK AT HIM AND DAVID#HES SO *screams into a pillow*#i miss henry so much i just want august 11th to come faster#red white and royal blue movie#red white and royal blue#rwrb movie#rwrb#prince henry of wales#henry fox mountchristen windsor#nicholas galitzine#casey mcquiston
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