#Krampus in the Corner
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floridaboiler · 22 days ago
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therealmanos · 27 days ago
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New on Substack! This holiday season, I'll be posting short horror Krampus stories set in the Krampus In The Corner universe. Subscribe to the Manos Publishing Substack to read and watch all of my work.
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oneforthemunny · 17 days ago
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christmas with the devil |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|
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prompt: even the dirty magazines are in the holiday spirit. after you and eddie stumble upon a particularly interesting magazine, you both are inspired by the spirit of the season.
apart of my munny's merriest series!
contains: minors dni smut. dom/sub themes. dom!eddie x sub!reader. spanking. spanking with implement. switching. pinv sex. a little roleplay lol? all consensual and sweet. they're kinda nerdy and i love them. eddie hates christmas, reader loves it. they're in love.
“Can you hurry up?” Your eyes cut around the abnormally crowded comic book store, chin ducking towards your chest as if all their eyes were on you.  
Bundles of teenagers, kids, parents all gathered around and looking through the stacks of Marvel issues, while you and your boyfriend trudged towards the scandalous back area. Marked off with a rope that held a sign, ‘Adults Only’ in bold print and was the vault for the more risqué magazines. 
“Relax, baby, we’re both adults.” Eddie cooed, a smirk in his tone that had your teeth gritting with annoyance. “We’ll be in and out, I promise.”  
“I don’t know why they have to make it so obvious.” You muttered, sliding past the rope and scurrying into the tiny room, filled with X-Rated magazine covers. “The rope seems like a little much.” 
Eddie snickered, his hand finding your waist, pulling you into him. “I kinda like it. Feels like they’re giving me the VIP treatment.” 
You rolled your eyes, but stayed flush against him, his chest warm on your frostbitten skin. “VIP treatment while you buy your porno magazines.” Your nail brushed over the edge of a Playboy, lifting a brow up at Eddie pointedly. 
“It’s not a porno magazine,” Eddie rolled his eyes lightly. “It’s just made by Penthouse, but it’s more sci-fi than-” 
“-I know, Ed.” You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temple. “You know I don’t care. I just hate coming in here.” You looked around, the dim lights and tight corners all plastered with vulgar photos. “Just feel skeezy.” 
“Skeezy?” Eddie grinned down at you. “Some of our best ideas came from this room, baby.” 
Your cheeks burned with a rush of heat, eyes cutting to the door carefully. It was true. You had many Fotoplays Magazines to thank for some of your favorite tricks in the bedroom. The countless times you and Eddie would flip through the dirty magazines, oohing and awing at the photos and stories, bookmarking pages that sparked your excitement to try later. 
“There it is.” Eddie’s chains jingled with his steps, pulling you out of your thoughts. You frowned, following his ringed hand towards the Omni Magazine cover. 
“Look at this. This looks so fuckin’ sick, doesn’t it? UFO Edition. This one’s gonna be all about aliens and shit.” Eddie grinned, bubbling with nerdy excitement you found overwhelmingly endearing. 
“Mhm,” You hummed, though you only partially heard him, your attention caught by the magazine in front of you. 
Eddie’s smile dropped, looking up at you with a furrowed brow, following your line of vision to what had captivated your attention over him. “What’d ya see, babe?” Eddie muttered, a low gravel in his tone that had you shivering. 
“What’s this?” You pointed at the cover. There on the glossy page, a goat-like demon with bat wings lifting a bundle of sticks high in the air, ready to bring them down on a woman’s bottom. Her ass stuck high up in the air, clad in lingerie, face animated with excited fear. 
“Krampus,” Eddie read, pointing at the golden cursive font below the image. “Hm, I don’t really know. Looks cool though, doesn’t he?” He grinned, nudging you playfully. 
“Looks like your little Hellfire mascot thingy.” You nodded back, picking up the magazine. 
Eddie’s brows lifted, suddenly, no longer interested in his Omni, tossing it back on the shelf, too consumed with the magazine capturing your attention. “You want to get this too?” 
“No, you don’t have to. I was just looking to see what it’s about.” You hummed, flipping through the pages until you found the cover story, an erotic retelling of the European Christmas demon. 
“Punishes those who misbehave with birch rods.” Eddie grinned, adjusting himself shamelessly behind you. His mind was racing, flooded with excited, devious ideas with every image. “Seems like you need Krampus to visit you.” 
“Nuh-uh,” Your tongue clicked, glaring at Eddie. “Why would you say that? I’ve been such a good girl this year.” 
“Psh, please,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “You’ve been such a bad girl.” His voice dropped,  breath tickled the shell of your ear, leaving you quaking with excitement. 
“No, I haven’t.” Your whine sounded more like a mewl, gripping the magazine so tightly the pages were creasing under your grasp. 
“I guess we’ll find out.” Eddie shrugged, pulling away from you, plucking the magazine out of your hand, tucking it under his arm with the other. “See if Krampus visits you tonight.” The wink he gave you left your tummy flipping with heat, following him to the counter on shaky legs, mind racing with excitement of what was to come. 
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“Well, well, well,” You jumped at the sound of Eddie’s voice, booming from the doorway behind you. He’d been stowed away in his room since you got home, only telling you not to come in- that he had a surprise for you. 
“Look what we have here.” Eddie waved the rolled up paper around in his hands, grinning at you as he took slow, calculated steps closer and closer to you. 
“What’s that?” You frowned, shoving the stack of folded dish towels into the drawer. 
Eddie’s tongue rolled over the inside of his cheek, looking at you with a positively primal glare. “Looks like this year’s naughty list just came in.” Eddie sucked in a breath, shaking his head exaggeratedly. “And I’ve got some real bad news for you, babe.” 
You feigned surprise, matching his playful, dramatic tone. “No,” You gasped lightly. “Don’t tell me I’m on that list. There’s no way. I’ve been sooo good this year.”  
He could kiss you, right then and there. How easily you played along, gave right into his dramatics without question. How perfect you were for him. He’d tell you after this, later when you were curled into him, sharing soft kisses and softer touches. But for now, he had a part to play. 
“This list begs to differ,” Eddie shrugged dramatically, shaking his head, unrolling the list he’d been working on. There in gothic, cursive font was your name, listed under the intimidatingly gloomy ‘Naughty’ side.  “And unfortunately there’s nothing I can do about it.” 
“This has to be a mistake. I’ve been nothing but a good girl this year. Perfect.” You quipped, stepping towards him. 
“No, this list doesn’t lie, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head, toe to toe with you now, looking at you down the slope of his nose. “You’ve been naughty this year, and you know what that means?” 
You shook your head, playing coy while your lashes batted at him. Eddie swore his heart was going to burst right out of his chest. 
“It means you’ll have to take your lashing from Krampus.” Eddie shook his head at you. 
“My lashing?” You gawked lightly, a giggle of surprise bubbling out of your chest. “I thought naughty girls got coal in their stockings.” You frowned, lip jutting in a gentle pout towards him. 
“Not around here they don’t.” Eddie grinned, a darkness to his eyes that had your heart rushing with floods of excitement. “Naughty girls around here get a visit from Krampus if they’ve been bad. They get corrected for their bad behavior.” 
“Well, I don’t want to be naughty.” You sighed heavily, really playing it up for him. You could see how much he was loving this. “I’ll do whatever I have to, to get off that list.” 
Eddie swallowed back a grin, nodding slowly instead. His footsteps fell heavy on the kitchen floor, striding over towards the stove, pulling the designated junk drawer open for the cutting pliers. You squirmed under his intense gaze when he brought them back, handing them to you, neither one of you breaking eye contact from the other. 
“Go get me eight good ones from the tree in the front, alright? Make ‘em good ones.” Eddie nodded at you. 
Your legs felt like they might give out slipping on your boots, wrapping Eddie’s jacket around you, climbing down the creaking steps of the trailer. It was cold out, everything dried and dead for the winter- it made the perfect time to pick a switch. 
Eddie watched from the doorway, fingers drumming with excitement taking in every branch you’d pick. How you’d examine it carefully before tossing it to the side or adding it to the collection in your hand. It consumed him with excitement, cock throbbing with exhilaration. 
“Will these do?” You held the branches towards him, after what felt like an eternity, standing on the steps, waiting for his approval. 
Eddie carefully looked at each one, swishing them through the air, before nodding. “Very good.” He gave you a curt nod. “So you can be good then, hm?” 
You blistered under his gaze, burning with excitement as you kicked off your boots, chin ducking so he couldn’t see your flustered grin. “I always try to be good.” 
Eddie snorted in laughter. “Yeah, right.” He muttered sarcastically. “Now, you’re back on the naughty track. You know better than to lie.” 
You glared at him, huffing with a pout, shrugging his jacket off and hanging it on the hook. “I’m not lying.” 
Eddie’s brows lifted, in shock or in warning, you weren’t sure. “You better watch your tone with me.” Eddie pointed at you, waving a branch near you to make his point. “You’re not in much of a position to be mouthy.” 
You bit back a snarky reply, lip jutting further instead, trailing behind Eddie towards the living room. Eddie laid the branches out, lining them up evenly on the coffee table in front of you. 
“Hold on,” You stilled at the sound of his voice, stopping before you knelt into position in front of the couch. “Go ahead and strip f’me.” Eddie’s eyes rolled over your frame. 
Your hands shook with excitement, trembling when you took off your jeans shoving them to the ground, pulling your sweater off with a rough tug, giving them a half hearted fold and placing them on the recliner. Your nipples pebbled in the cold of the room, maybe from your own excitement. 
Eddie gave you a nod of approval before he left the room, silently going to the kitchen. You sunk to your knees on the shagged carpet, spine straightening long and eyes forward; you were on your best behavior, after all.
The soft screech of duct tape tore through the living room before Eddie could enter, the silver tape in his hand, teeth tearing off the end of the long strip. He made a show of wrapping the bundle of wood together, looking at you with dark eyes while he wound the tape over the switches to keep them together. 
“Why don’t you go ahead and bend over the back of the couch for me, hm?” Eddie nodded, twisting the tight bundle in his hands. “You know how I want you.” 
You swallowed back a shiver when you stood, every inch of your exposed skin tingling with a prickling heat of excitement. Arms stretched out in front, you lowered yourself over the arm of the couch, elongating yourself and propped nicely so your ass was high in the air.
“I think twelve will suffice, don’t you?” Eddie hummed, eyes scanning your features for even a quip of uncertainty- he was good like that. “One for each month.” 
You nodded, shifting from foot to foot, desperate to alleviate the aching that was ever growing between your legs. “Yes, Sir,” Your voice lilted to an airy, positively sweet coo. It made Eddie’s cock lurch, throb with blinding pleasure that left him reeling. 
“Look at me,” Eddie’s hand squeezed your hip lightly, pulling your eyes back to his. “That’s good?” 
You nodded, pushing up on your forearms. “That’s good, Ed.” You gave him a soft smile. “If it’s too much, I’ll let you know.” 
Eddie couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his features. He had an overwhelming urge to kiss you, but he’d wait, for now anyway. 
“Why don’t you count them for me too then?” You jumped at the feeling of the branches on the back of your thighs, scratchy and rough. Oh, this was going to burn, you could already feel it. You throbbed between your legs at the thought. 
A thundering crack of his palm left you gasping, hips tensing over the arm of the couch in surprise. “Did you hear me?” 
“Y-Yes, Sir,” You babbled, tongue thick in your mouth, head spinning with pleasure. “I’m sorry, Sir.” 
Eddie tutted mockingly, shaking his head. “I don’t know if you’re cut out for the nice list, baby. Sure isn’t seeming like you’re gonna make the cut after all.” 
“Noo,” Your lip jutted out in a whine. “I am good, please, I’ll be good.” 
Eddie tapped the bundle of switches against your ass lightly. “We’ll see about that.” He muttered. “Make sure you count loud for me. Loud and clear.” You nodded, lowering your chin back onto the cushion before you. 
A whispering swish of wind was your only warning before you felt the familiar searing of heat across your ass, this time in multiples instead of the singular switching you’d had before. It wasn’t as hard as usual, Eddie’s uncertainty with the newness of this shining through, but enough to have you hissing, dancing from foot to foot at the sting. 
“One,” You hissed through gritted teeth, fist balling to keep from reaching back, running out the itchy sting. 
The second hit came a little harder than before, enough to leave you whining at the impact. “Two,” 
Your voice tightened with every blow, lifting into near squeaks until number eight. “Ei-Eight,” Followed by a wet sniffle, and a pathetic little mewl. 
Eddie grinned, running his hand over your hot skin, lines of his handiwork already beginning to show. He took mercy on you, giving you a soft rub that he knew you were craving, fighting from doing yourself. 
“You’re doing very good, baby.” Eddie cooed, grinning as you rubbed your teary face into your arms, soothing the burn in your nose, trying to hide your tears. “Looks like you might make it on the nice list afterall.” 
“Thank you,” You gave a squeaky whisper, face still buried under your arms. 
Eddie gave your right cheek a firm squeeze, grinning at how you screeched. “I’ll do these last ones quick, how’s that sound? Since you’ve been so good.” Truthfully, Eddie wasn’t sure he could last much longer. Not with the little sounds you’d make that drove him wild, blind with pleasure. Not with the way he could see how wet you were, get an agonizing glimpse between your legs every time you’d shift that left his mouth watering. 
You nodded silently, and he didn’t correct you, too blinded with his own intense pleasure. The final four came down in quick, crescendoing successions that had you lifting up off the couch, voice squeaking through sobs as you counted them, squirming desperately to get away. 
The sound of his zipper followed the crunching thud of the switch bundle being tossed on the carpet. Your eyes glossy already, cheek pressed to the couch, tears and a string of drool pooling carelessly beneath you. 
“Am I on the nice list now?” You whimpered, so soft and airy, lashed batting up at Eddie sweetly. He thought he might burst, through his heart or maybe through his dick. 
“Fuck yeah, yes, baby.” Eddie kicked his jeans off, hand wrapping around his throbbing length, stroking himself enough to alleviate some of the aching throb of pleasure. 
“Definitely on the nice list. The top of it too. You’re such a good girl, you know that? You do know that don’t you?” He gave you a wide grin, body folding over yours and placing a kiss on your left shoulder blade, erection rubbing against the hot, sensitive skin of your ass. 
“C’mere,” Eddie muttered, pulling you by your hips closer to him, shamelessly rubbing himself into you. “Let me take care of you now, baby. You want that? Hm, that sound good?” 
“Yes,” You whimpered, hips rolling back towards him, desperate for friction. “Don’t tease me, Ed.” 
He let out a small laugh, fingers sliding through your slick, sopping folds, circling your clit, grinning at how you shuddered. “I won’t tease. You’ve been so good, I won’t tease you, baby.” Eddie muttered, pressing a final soft kiss the the middle of your spine, before he pushed himself in, bottoming out and stilling just for a moment, eyes rolling back in pleasure. 
He fucked you over the couch, hard and messy, furiously rutting into you while his fingertips made bruises on your hips from his grip. The way you were taking him, walls squeezing him just right, both you spend collecting at the base of his cock; he decided that you were definitely on the nice list, top of it. On his, at least, his perfect, nice, good girl. 
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vegan-peppermint · 3 days ago
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Frost and Flour
Pairing: Krampus!konigx reader
Cw: size kink, power play, slight cnc, breeding;
Inspired by this post.
Summery: in your village, men would dress as monsters on Christmas stealing women and children and run around the town. Your krampus had other ideas.
Did not proof read, I saw this post yesterday and tried to speed run this fic for it to be ready before Christmas. Might be bad and rushed. Will edit after new years.
Word count: 4k
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The snow fell thick and soft, blanketing the jagged peaks of the mountains like a heavy quilt. The air was sharp and bracing, scented faintly with pine and the smoky warmth of wood-burning stoves. This was the village of your childhood Christmases, a place where the world seemed smaller, quieter, and steeped in old traditions. Nestled deep in the heart of the mountains, it felt like a hidden pocket of time where the modern world dared not intrude.
Traditions are the heart of the holidays, the thread that weaves magic into the season and shapes the way people celebrate. In every corner of the world, they bring warmth and wonder: streets lit up with strands of melted honey, the soft glow of advent candles peaking through the frosty windows and the -oh too comforting- aroma of cookies baking in old family kitchens.
But this village had its own unique tradition, one that set it apart from the glittering cities and quaint holiday fairs elsewhere. Here, Christmas wasn't just about warmth and cheer, it carried a shadow, a reverence for the old ways—
both enchanting and a little haunting.
When winter arrived and snow blanketed the wooden rooftops, the young people who had left for the city always hurried back to their childhood homes. So did you. This year, you came earlier than most, arriving in November to help at your family’s bakery. The holiday season brought plenty of special orders, far too much for your grandmother’s old hands to handle alone.
As your hands kneaded the cookie dough behind the counter, your mind was heavy with thoughts and debates. The life you’d built back in the States wasn’t bad—a steady job, a cozy apartment near the city center—but as the warmth of this small, close-knit community enveloped you, a cold stone pressed heavily in your chest. Before sinking any deeper, the bell on the door jingled.
"Hello! Welcome to Frost and Flour, how can I help you today?" you greeted with a cheerful smile.
The man—who, no doubt, had to bow his head to fit through the doorframe—returned the smile, his lips barely visible beneath a fluffy green wool scarf.
"Hallo," his voice came out muffled, the words soft behind the thick fabric. Snowflakes clung to his blonde hair, drifting down like sugar crystals. He shook his head with a swift motion, trying to flick them off, and the gesture reminded you of a puppy entering your shop on a snowy day.
You recognized him, yet you couldn't really match the face to the name. He was the son of the lovely, old woman living on your street, Frau Lieder. Unlike her son, who resembled the mountains that surrounded your village rather than a man, Frau Lieder was as delicate as a breeze, tiny as an ant. Even though she was always quiet and humble, she'd always sit upright and proud when talking about her son, the colonel.
"It's not too late to place an order, no?" He spoke, taking his scarf off revealing his red, frozen cheeks.
"No, not at all. Come in, come in!" You encouraged quickly running to the tap to wash your hands off. "It's really freezing outside! Would you like anything warm to drink? Coffee, or tea?"
He shook his head in refusal, but the way his frozen eyelashes trembled seemed to tell a different story. "How about a coffee? I made too much for myself already," you patted your hands dry on the apron.
The man opened his mouth to protest, but you didn’t give him a chance. Gently guiding him to an empty table, you set down the coffee before him and sat down beside him, placing your own cup next to his to ease the tension. He didn’t seem eager to speak, so you attempted to fill the silence, though your words came out a little more forced than usual.
"You came a long way, didn't you? You look like a snowman," you remarked, trying to break the ice.
He only hummed in response, a soft sound, and you hesitated for a moment before pressing on. "Want sugar in your coffee?"
"It's fine like this, thank you," he said, his voice calm but distant.
An awkward silence settled between you both, thick and uncomfortable. He looked tired so you decided to give up. Not everyone wants to chit-chat, you understood that.
"So, what do you want to order?" You got right to the point.
"Oh, Ja... I need two Stollen," he replied.
"Yeah, we can definitely do that," you said, quickly moving into a list of other things you could offer. You kept talking, listing the flavors and sweet treats, drifting in how they were made and why you made them the best. He seemed taken aback by your sudden burst, but after a while, you saw him relax. He leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs comfortably, and took another sip of his coffee, the steam rising around him like a cloud. His icy blue eyes didn’t leave you as you talked, causing your words to spill faster. They were fixed on you with a piercing intensity, scanning your every expression.
"So I think you should really add the chocolate cookies- we also make them vegan if that's the case-"
"That sounds good," he finally said, agreeing to the order. You jotted it down quickly.
"Great choice, I'll throw in some samples of the others as well!" You grinned, excited for people to try your new recipes.
The cups were filled with coffee still. You lingered as much as you could, writing as to avert his eyes. What's up with people with blue eyes and staring like that? You could still feel his gaze on you as you re-read the same 5 items for the thousandth time.
You shifted in your seat, unsure of what to do with yourself. He seemed to notice, and you caught the glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
"Something wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful tease.
You swallowed, trying to regain your composure. "No, just... not used to quiet customers," you murmured, avoiding his gaze.
He hummed, just as you were accustomed. You stood up quickly, feeling the need to escape the weight of the silence, and found something to occupy yourself behind the counter, fiddling with a few stray utensils. The soft clink of ceramic was the only sound until, after a moment, he spoke. "You going to the Christmas fest tonight?" His voice was low, almost secretive.
"Yeah, so excited," you replied with a laugh, grateful for the change in topic. "It’s the reason I came all this way!"
"Me too," he said solemnly, and something familiar downed on you. That’s when it hit you. "You're the one dressing as Krampus, aren't you?" you exclaimed, a bit too eagerly.
The surprise on his face was brief, quickly replaced by an expression that matched your own newfound curiosity. "I—I remember you," you added, turning to face him, a rush of memories flooding back. "Last year, I brought my younger sister too—you stole her and lifted her up in the air—swinging her around. She loved it so much."
"Ah, seems like I did a shit job—kids are supposed to be afraid of me," he chuckled.
You thought about the scary outfit he'll wear tonight, the furs that will coat his big back doubling him in size. How he'll run around, stalking and shouting- you couldn't help but hope he will be chasing you as well.
"Being punished by Krampus sounds pretty good, to be honest—"
You caught yourself too late, the words already hanging awkwardly between you. Maybe if you played dead, he’d just walk away, pretend nothing happened. You refused to acknowledge what you’d said, refusing to even glance at him. Faking a heart attack or any kind of medical emergency sounded plausible—anything to escape the tension creeping up your spine. The silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable.
You opened your mouth but no words came out.
A Christmas miracle happened right in that moment as an elderly customer entered the shop.
"Welcome to Frost and Flour! How can I help you?" You beamed without skipping a beat, grateful you didn't have to start choking or throw yourself on the floor.
As you listened to the customer and answered his questions, you felt a heavy set of eyes pressing down on your frame. You didn't look at him again, tried really hard not to. He finished his coffee, got up, and left without saying a word. At the last possible moment, the second between the door hitting the frame, his eyes met yours for one last time. And as the door shut with a loud thud, leaving a sudden silence in its wake, you realized you hadn't asked for his name. You looked down at the empty line left at the bottom of his order and wrote:
Krampus.
The sun set down, the sky turned from blue to orange and back to blue again. You had met with some friends at the small Christmas market, wandering around the little wooden shops that lined the square. Laughter and chatter filled the chilly air as you and your friends picked up festive Christmas toys, nibbled on gingerbread, and sipped warm drinks. The air was alive with the sound of the Christmas choir, their voices drifting through the market and adding a touch of magic to the evening.
As time passed and the night grew darker, the atmosphere shifted. The carolers’ songs faded and adults began to gather around the tables, glasses in hand. It wasn’t long before Krampuses started appearing, stalking through the crowd. The sound of children screaming and running to their parents echoed through the square, while some men pretended to be brave, stepping forward to protect their girlfriends. You couldn’t help but laugh as some of your friends found themselves the prey of a particularly mischievous Krampus, who chased them with exaggerated growls, making the whole scene feel like a playful dance between fear and festivity.
"What's wrong?" Your friend asked through laughter. "Come on, why they long face?"
You suddenly became aware of your thoughtful expression and quickly excused yourself. You had been thinking about your Krampus- both embarrassed and hopeful to see him again. "You better cheer up soon, or the krampus will get you!" Another friend teased.
The air was suddenly filled with the deep, resonant thud of drums, each beat like a heartbeat pounding through the square. A group of men pushed their way through the crowd, their rhythmic movements sharp and precise, their boots striking the cobblestones with deliberate thuds. Their dance was primal and hypnotic, an echo of something ancient and untamed. Behind them, two towering Krampuses loomed, their enormous cowbells clanging with a deafening ring that sent shivers through the crowd. Draped in heavy, fur-lined cloaks that swayed with each step, their grotesque masks twisted into demonic faces that seemed to leer at anyone who dared to meet their gaze. The crowd recoiled instinctively, a ripple of nervous laughter and gasps breaking the tension as the Krampuses stalked forward, commanding both fear and awe.
The main drummer, the same one who had parted the crowd in two, struck his drum with a horrendous bang that swallowed all other noise. In unison, the crowd fell silent, their collective breath caught in their chests. Yet, despite the stillness, a distant rhythm lingered in the air—a pulsing thrum that echoed: the rapid, heavy pounding of every heart present.
Thud!
The crowed took a step back in anticipation as the Krampuses looked around hungrily.
Thud! Thud!
The beats served as a count down, a warning and threat before the krampuses will be set free. You were too mesmerized by the show that you haven't realized you were being watched.
Thud! Thud! THUD!
That's when you noticed the taller monster staying still, focusing on you. Shivers creeped unbidden down your spine, cold and sharp, leaving goosebumps as they passed. Your stomach plummeted, a hollow, twisting ache of dread settling deep within you, even before your gaze met his. You didn’t need to see his eyes to recognize it was him—undeniably, inescapably him.
The rhythmic pounding of the drums grew faster, more frantic, but the meaning escaped you, lost in the haze of your thoughts. Blurred figures rushed past, their panicked shouts blending into something you barely registered. Shoulders slammed into you, hands shoved, voices screamed, everything—the chaos, the fear, the blinding motion—blurred and faded, except for that mask. That awful, looming mask. Its hollow gaze pinned you in place, your focus narrowing until it was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Then, like the sharp crack of a pin dropping onto glass, the veil lifted. The muffled roars of the crowd became deafening, the banging and fireworks thundered in your ears, and the swell of scared people pressed against you, pulling you back into reality.
Run.
The word tore through your mind, an instinct louder than the drums, louder than the crazy fantasies you had. Run. You have to run.
The adrenaline hit you in full force, blood pumping hot through your veins as your feet pounded against the uneven ground. The small, twisted streets were making it harder for you, but you didn’t dare look back—you didn’t need to. You knew he was there. You could feel it, like a cold breath on the back of your neck.
You knew in the moment you broke eye contact, the second your body shifted to flee, he was already moving. His feet swept through the mud, closing the distance with the precision of a predator. He wasn’t chasing—you realized, with a spike of fear—he was hunting.
Exhaustion hit you hard, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your legs felt like lead, slowing to a near halt. Your body begged for rest, and you made the mistake of glancing over your shoulder. The street was empty—silent. No sign of him, nothing but the faint echo of your own heavy breathing. As you huffed in relief, grateful for the brief moment of peace, a hand clamped down on your waist, and another shot up to cover your mouth, muffling the scream you let out instinctively.
It all happened so fast, the way he grabbed you and spun you on his shoulder as if you weighted nothing. He ran away with you through the crowds, some people cheered and others ran away in fear of being the next victim. He ran past the crowds, past the houses and the gardens. The snow was getting higher and the lights were getting dimmer as the two of you strayed further from the towns fest.
No matter how much you screamed or how many questions you'd ask, he'd remain silent, eyes straight ahead not minding you at all.
"Please, stop! Put me down!" you begged for what felt like the hundredth time.
This time, he paused. With a grunt, he hurled you onto the snow-covered ground, your body colliding with the icy surface.
"You make so much noise," he growled, his voice low and rough. "I wonder how much louder you can get."
You stumbled onto your feet but the slippery ground betrayed you as you slipped again. Above you, the massive figure loomed, his imposing horns casting jagged shadows across the snow.
Your eyes were getting watery and your lip began to tremble. You were scared- your heart thumping and body trembling, that was fear. But the excitement that grew in your stomach and the urge to rub your legs against each other were something else entirely.
"Please," you whispered as a last plea, curling up as to make yourself as small as possible.
"Don't play dumb with me, little one. You deserve to be punished, you'll take what I'll give you and say thank you," he said.
Your eyes moved frantically from his mask to his muddy boots, then up his legs to the hard erection visible through his black pants before meeting the black holes where eyes were supposed to be.
"Please," you cried out doe eyed not sure what you were begging for.
The beast fell to his knees with a heavy sound making you flinch. You tried to push yourself further, but his strong hand grabbed at your ankle harshly. He dragged you by the foot, your skirt rising up as your ass slided on the cold snow. He let go of your leg, hand moving to your inner knee, slowly dragging his nails up your thigh.
"So sensitive," he coes when your skin reacts so eagerly to his touch. You instinctively grabbed at his hand which hovered above your panties. He paused his movement, seemingly amused at your attempt. "Go on," he leaned closer, covering your body with his own, the mask mere inches from your face. "Fight back," he breathed out a threat. "Try and fight me off, little lamb."
His hand slapped your clothed pussy, the weak attempt at a stopping him completly ignored. You let out a loud moan at the sudden feeling of pain.
His calloused hand started rubbing up and down the thin fabric. The daunting realization of how wet being hunted down like pray made you hit you as the panties became drenched.
"Aren't you ashamed?" He teased, fiddling with the zipper of his pants, tugging them just enough to free his large cock. "Being violated gets you this wet, Schatz?"
You whimper and squirm trying to get away from his touch, thriwing your hands at him- scratching and grabbing at his horns and neck.
Pathetic. That’s the only word for it. You know you’re not trying to escape or fight back. No, you’re just edging him on, hoping he'll snap and take out all his built up anger on you.
He easily grabs your wrists in one rapid motion. No matter how much you'd try, pulling with your whole body and then some, his grip would effortlessly stay the same.
"I'm going to fuck you," he announced pinning your hands above your head with one hand. "You will cry and scream and plead- and you will swallow every inch I give you."
He pulled your panties to the side placing his angry tip at the entrance. In the dead of night, under the midnight sky the lewd, wet sound of his dick spreading your juices was so loud.
No waiting, he pushed himself inside your throbbing cunt splitting you open.
"F-Fuck," you plead. "T-Too big, 's too big!" Your gummy walls stretch around his girth, causing your to choke in pain. The resistance slowly fades away as your cunt leaks more with every shallow thrust as he fills you up in ways you've never thought were possible.
"You can take it," he hissed, allowing you to adjust to his size. His cock was throbbing inside of you, pulsating eagerly. "You feel that? Feel what you do to me? I'm so hard for you, Schatz. Don't you wanna make me feel good?"
"Agh~," you cry out as you feel more of his size slipping inside your wet cunt. He let's go of his tight grip bringing one of your hands down to your stomach. His hand on top of yours as he's bullying his cock inside you. You feel him moving, the buldge in your stomach rising and lowering in sync with his thrusts. He growled loudly as you spammed around his dick so soon, moaning loudly and rolling your eyes in the back of your head, finally allowing him complete access as you cum on his fat cock.
"You're the tightest cunt I've fucked in a long time," he said bringing his hands on your hips angling you slightly better. His balls were hanging on your ass and his tip was pushing twords your womb.
If you could think straight, you'd be embarrassed of cumming just from being filled, of the moans and gasps you made with every inch he gave you. But the warmth of the village is distant and the ground behind your back is freezing, you need him- his warmth- to keep the cold from swallowing you whole.
Through teary eyes, you look at him. The faint light spilling from the village clings to his mask and coat, tracing his silhouette in an otherworldly glow, as if he were carved from shadow and firelight. He is no longer just a man draped in beast's clothes;
And yet, his gaze lingers on you, heavy and unreadable, somewhere between a silent threat or solemn apology.
It started slowly, dragging his member out then pushing it back in with slightly more forced than before. Your whole body was pressed deeper into the ground, head bobbling to his increasing rhythm.
One if his hands reached up to your chest, cupping one of your breast through the cotton material of your dress, the other digging into the side of your hip. He found your hardend nipple with ease, rubbing it between his fingers. He'd pinch and drag them only to see them bounce more viciously.
"Shush," he'd scold through heavy breaths. "If you keep moaning like that people will hear you. They'll see you spread wide getting your pussy stuffed, is that what you want?"
When his words were only getting you more riled up, he'd let go of your hips moving it to your loud mouth. He fell onto of you, his heavy body crushing your smaller frame, one hand desperately pulling at your tits while the other pressing hard on your mouth. He pounded into you like a man starved, abusing your needy hole.
You looked so pretty right now, your Krampus thought behind his mask. Your face was flushed, your eyelashes sticking together from tears. Strands of hair, damp from the snow melting behind you, clung to your face, yet your eyes were hazed with pleasure. He got you like this, so pathetic and cock drunk. You tried to say something but your words were muffled.
"Shut up, just a little- a little longer longer-," he sounded desperate, a change in his steady demeanor. "You'll take all I give you, every last drop of cum- Fuck- I'll pump you full of cum, you horny bitch," he groand against your neck, thrusting into you deeper than before.
He fucked you through his orgasm, cock twitching and slaming hot cum inside your cunt, a white ring foaming where your body met.
He fucked you through your orgasm, his dick barelling into you making sure you won't spill a drop of this gift he had given you.
Your legs were shaking around him, hands dirty and tired from clawing at the ground. His chest rumbled against your own.
After he pulled out, he shoved his fingers in its place- pushing his cum deep into you. You'd lick them clean afterwards, after he pulled you back on your feet. Your eyes tried to find his behind the devil mask, as his fingers explored your mouth.
You didn't.
The night didn’t feel as cold as before, the stars no longer just wishes in the sky, but silent witnesses to everything that had unfolded. You didn’t dare move, or speak—not before he would at least. You tensed, waiting for words that never came, as he grabbed you with an eerie calm, lifting you once more, just as he had in the beginning
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dark-moonlust · 3 days ago
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Deck the Halls Part 1
Pairing: Krampus x fem!human reader
Summary: you secretly start to decorate the house only for your grumpy husband Krampus to find you out.
Warnings: established relationship, grumpy x sunshine trope, decorating, caring and possessive hubby, fluff, cuteness.
I just had to include Krampus in my Christmas stories! This version of him is unbelievably sweet, with only a small bite (for the time being). Happy reading! Find part two on Patreοn. ✨Happy Holidays!
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The attic was a maze and a death trap, but you made it through. It was where you kept all your seasonal decorations and other unnecessary items. You moved through the jumbled mess until you dragged down the four large boxes containing Christmas decorations. Sure, it was still early November 28th—a point that Krampus, your husband, would never let you forget—but he wasn't home, and you weren't going to let his grumpy, anti-Christmas attitude deter you.
You only struggled with the last box as it refused to move. "You're just a box," you growled, tugging on it fiercely. "I'm not letting you win.”
The box eventually collapsed with a shriek, and you lurched back, almost landing on your bum. Well… you’d done it at last. With a huge grin, you dragged each box downstairs and got to work. You had all the time in the world because Krampus was currently caught up in the company he worked for. He worked as a specialist for a corporate organization, investigating unethical activities such as embezzlement, fraud, or employees "breaking the rules." He was incredibly good at his job, and his frightening appearance made others think twice before doing anything dirty.
Without realizing it, time passed, and the living room gradually began to transform into a gorgeous, chaotic mass of garlands, lights, and glitter. You'd managed to wrestle a seven-foot pine tree into the corner, which had been funny given that it was higher than you and weighed around a thousand pounds. You were climbing the ladder with a garland of lights in your hands, humming "All I Want for Christmas Is You" at full gusto when a familiar growl caused you to freeze mid-note.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
You froze. Fuck indeed. 
Krampus was back.
You turned slowly, your hand still holding the lights, to see Krampus, your monstrously handsome but now angry husband standing in the doorway. He looked massive in the wide living room, standing nearly seven and a half feet tall, wearing a dark suit that screamed danger and dark beauty.
Twisted horns twisted from his temples, and dark lustrous fur protruded from his wrists and neck. His penetrating red eyes swept across your form. His jawline was sharp enough to cut, framed by a shadow of a beard. Sharp claws tipped his fingers and a long, serpentine tail flowed behind him, which was currently swinging back and forth. He didn’t wear shoes, he had hooved feet and walked to you with a predator's grace.
“Surprise! It’s decorating day,” you said, forcing a small smile.
“Get down.”
Krampus snarled, his gaze fixed on your body perched dangerously on top of a ladder. He hadn’t planned on coming home early, but something in his gut told him you were up to no good. And of course, he had been right. The sight of you balancing on that wobbly-ass ladder, stringing lights made his heart lurch. Only you did that to him. Made him so fucking worried and out of his mind.
Plus, you had no business looking so damn cute, wearing a short-ass red dress, glitter dusting your cheeks and hair.
But cute or not, you were a menace.
You've always acted like this around Christmas, but this year you started decorating so early that he didn't have time to prepare himself.
“Relax, big hubs,” you called out, a little sassy despite his furrowed brows. “I’ve got this.”
Krampus grunted. Nope. Absolutely not.
“Get down. Now.”
“Silly, I can’t do that. I haven’t finished decorating.”
"It's still November," he muttered, creeping closer. His hooves clicked on the ground, his tail swinging behind him like an angry cat. "You couldn't wait another week?"
"You wouldn't let me decorate even if I waited!" you shot back, wagging your lights at him. "So I have to do it when you're out, obviously."
"So you thought this was a good idea? Climbing on that death trap without me?"
You rolled your eyes. He was so overprotective. "I am fine. You're being dramatic."
“Come down or I'll get your sweet ass down and you don't want that."
Releasing a huff of a breath, you carefully stepped down. Krampus waited patiently at the ladder, gripping it for balance. He only let go when your feet were safely on the ground, tossing away the lights and tugging you to him as if you weighed nothing. He pulled you off the ground to make up for your height difference and you smiled, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.
“You’re not climbing that damn thing again unless I’m standing right here,” he growled, his claws gently digging into your hips as he held you close.
“You’re such a worrywart,” you muttered, your fingers trailing the sharp lines of his jaw.
“That’s because you’re careless, wife.”
You pouted and made puppy eyes at him. “Oh, come on, hubby. I want to decorate. It makes me so happy! Help me out? Please? Please?”
Krampus grumbled something about you having him wrapped around your little finger and eventually agreed. He’d rather take you to bed and fuck your brains out but that would have to wait. Sadly. But he had plans to ask for a big reward for helping you, so his dick stayed good in his pants while he helped you out.
In the end, he ended up doing the majority of the decorating. He hung string after string of garlands and lights across the living room. Before he knew it, he had decorated the massive Christmas tree, the steps leading upstairs, and your bedroom. You had joyful music playing continually and were dancing and smiling sweetly at him.
Well, that made all his efforts worthwhile.
Everything sparkled with soft, golden lights, garlands hung neatly from the fireplace, and the aroma of pine and cinnamon filled the air. You stood back, hugged your husband, proud of the seasonal metamorphosis, despite his occasional growls and eye-rolls.
“You’re always so grumpy about the holidays, but here you are, helping me decorate. Thanks to you we’re almost finished! Only the driveway’s left and the garden.”
Krampus narrowed his eyes, his tail flicking. “Don’t push your luck, wife.”
"Everything looks so good," you murmured, secretly planning to decorate the yard tomorrow.
“Just good?" he rumbled, his voice low. "I just spent three hours untangling lights and garlands and all you've got to say is 'good'?“
You smirked. “Fine, it looks amazing. Totally amazing. Thanks for helping out, hubby.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something, wife?” His gaze flicked to the room briefly before lingering on you.
“Forgetting what?”
“My reward,” he murmured in your ear.
“Oh, your reward,” you said, playing cool even if your belly clenched with desire. “You mean for today? For being such a good hubby and helping me out?”
“Yes, damn it,” he said, his voice a deep, velvet growl. You were infuriating—deliberately driving him to the brink of madness even if he could smell your arousal in the air. He wanted to pin you down, kiss you and fuck your cunt until you stopped sassing him.
“You’re impossible,” you whispered, shivering as his tail curled around your legs, pinning you to him. His hands dragged up your mini red dress, you knew it had driven him mad. Just as you’d planned. Your breath hitched when he let his claws brush against your upper thighs.
“And I think you’re in need of a good fucking, little wife,” he rasped, his lips hovering over yours. “But for starters, I think I’ll have a kiss.”
Head tilting, he claimed your lips, his horns creating shadows on the walls. Your breathing caught, mouth opening and accepting his hungry tongue. Krampus was rough and demanding, thrusting his tongue with yours as if he wanted to devour you, pin you to the wall and make you forget all about the decorations.
And you wanted the same. Were just as needy for him as he was for you.
Part 2 is already up on the app plus much much more to enjoy! Things will get hot. Let me know what you think of my take on Krampus!
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jazzthatonewriterchick · 16 days ago
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NAUGHTY OR NICE? 🖤❤️🎁 (Santa!Gojo x Krampus!Geto x Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]
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❤️🖤 ❤️🖤 ❤️🖤 ❤️🖤 ❤️🖤 ❤️🖤
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Geto Suguru x Fem!Black!Plus-Size!Reader
Synopsis: On Christmas Eve, you expect to spend a quiet night in with your wine and your new rose toy after a long month of constant work and holiday busyness. But when you receive a surprise visit from Santa Claus and Krampus themselves, who both have some business with you when you end up on their “Naughty or Nice” lists for the year, you realize that this Christmas Eve won’t be spent alone this time around.
Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GTFO), Santa Claus!Gojo x Krampus!Geto, Reader is Black, Female & Plus-Sized, Fantasy, Threesome, Some Boy on Boy, Dubcon/Rape, Some Hypnosis, S*x w/ S*x Toys/Rose Toy, Spanking, Choking, Whipping, Dual Blowjob, Cunnilingus w/ Forked Tongue, Piercings, Oral (Giving & Receiving), Facefucking, Cum Play, Degradation/Praise, Objectification, Slutification, Spitroast, Big Cocks, Monsterfucking, Throatpie, Creampie, Pain Kink, Daddy Kink, Reader Cums 3x, Aftercare
Writer’s Note: This is my FIRST EVER holiday commission written for one of my favorite VAs @curiouscutie143!! I really hope y’all enjoy reading it! I had so much fun flexing my fantasy muscles & it was overall hella fun to write. Please enjoy! -Jazz
❤️🖤 ❤️🖤 ❤️🖤 ❤️🖤 ❤️🖤 ❤️🖤
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“Ha,” you sigh. “Finally.”
It is all you can say as you slink down onto your soft rug in front of your blazing, hot fireplace that costs a soft, orange glow throughout your dimly-lit living room. One of your favorite cheesy Christmas movies plays on the TV hanging above the mantle of your fireplace twined with twinkling red and green lights. A Christmas tree about five-feet high sits in the corner of your room near your coat hanger, decked out in ornaments and lights.
It is officially Christmas Eve! The presents are wrapped, a month’s worth of holiday shopping is done, and you won’t have to go back to work until Monday because this year, Christmas falls on a weekend. What a blessing! ‘A Christmas miracle more like,’ you think. You could hardly wait to begin your three-day weekend. The past couple of weeks since November have been nothing but work, stress, and more work since winter hit and the sun went to hide after 4PM.
When you got home, you immediately began to unwind from a long day at your job with a self care ritual: a hot bath using your favorite caramel bubble soak, some body butter to make your brown skin glisten and soft to the touch, a takeout dinner, a nice glass of wine to relax you, and…
You eagerly stare down at the red gift bag in your hands and reach into it, revealing your brand new addition to your self care ritual and goodie from the sex shop you frequent: a rose toy. “So cute!” you coo. “And so expensive. Thank you bestie for the coupon code.”
You admire the little rose-shaped sex toy with the clit sucker, four different settings for ultimate pleasure, and a free bottle of strawberry-flavored heating lube. You haven’t had much time to yourself with work or much of a sexual appetite, but now that you have the time, you will take as much of it as you need to make yourself feel good.
After all, who else is gonna do it for you? You’re a single girl living alone. No matter how much you’d love to have a hot guy to snuggle up to tonight after hours of sex, you know that isn’t going to happen. So you improvise.
You can feel the wine take effect on you, making you feel loose and comfortable. As you begin to lift the top to your sweatshirt to expose your sexy red bra and panties, you see that the blinds to your windows are open, revealing the outside blanketed in snow. ‘Eh,’ you think. ‘No one is gonna peek into my house.’
Everyone is too busy with families and couples to care about a single girl flicking the bean with her new toy. So you continue to ease your way out of your sweatshirt and you’re just popping open the lube when you hear something peculiar.
Scuff, scuff.
You look up immediately, realizing that it is coming from above. Is there something in the roof? Or…on the roof? Your heart begins to pound as you hear unfamiliar clicking sounds along with the familiar, recognizable sound of footsteps. But not just any footsteps…boots. The thud of the heels against the brick roof is all too familiar.
Who the fuck is on your roof?
You hear a grunt and suddenly, a slew of soot comes flying down from the chimney chute. You immediately stand from your spot and scowl at the fireplace, alarmed and confused. A rush of cold winter air blows into your living room, chilling you to the bone, along with the scent of pine and gingerbread.
You hear another grunt followed by the scuffling of something caught in the chimney between the bricks. “Da hell?” you say aloud, peering up at the chimney. It’s all you can say until a pair of boots are sliding down your chimney and dangle just above the fire. You gasp, covering your mouth to hide your voice.
The stranger grunts in frustration, wiggling about in the tight space. “Goddammit,” a voice huffs. “Uh…helloooo? Anyone down there?” You momentarily contemplate answering before you figure doing so. He’s stuck anyway. “Uh…hi,” you call. “Listen, if you’re tryin’ to break in, you’ll be sorry once you fall into the burning, hot flames below you.”
The stranger huffs, still wriggling around with his boots dangling. “I didn’t see the smoke beforehand,” he sighs. “Listen, I’ve been up since 4 AM doin’ this shit and my mind ain’t exactly all there. You’re not even supposed to be seeing me, but considering the circumstances, could you take that gate down?”
You look at the iron gate blocking the flames and the embers from popping onto your rug in front of the fireplace. He’s worried about that and not the fire? “What?” you scoff. “Who even are you?”
Woooosh!
Another rush of cold air whooshes into your living room, smelling of gingerbread, and snuffs out the fire. Then you hear: Jingle-jingle. The unmistakable sound of sleigh bells along with that clicking on the roof. Hooves.
As if all of that hasn’t proved to you that this stranger isn’t a Christmas burglar, a huge, red burlap sack comes falling down onto the logs that are now cold and charred. Perfect for not burning the presents that you know are in that sack and can only be delivered by one man. “Santa Claus,” you gasp.
“Satoru, actually,” he chuckles, a smile in his voice. “And I’ve got some presents to drop off for you, V.” Your stomach flips at the sound of your name coming from his lips in that sexy voice of his. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix a fire for you again, but I’ve got work to do first.”
You don’t need any more persuasion or confirmation. Quickly, you get dressed, take the gate off of your fireplace, and set it aside, allowing for Satoru Claus to come sliding down your chimney. His leather boots hit the ground and he hoists up his sack of gifts before ducking under your mantle to avoid hitting his head.
He is very tall. About six-foot something, much to your liking. And he is so, so big! Even under his red uniform with white trim, you can tell he has some impressive physical features that aren’t just on his face. The man is gorgeous. Everything is so symmetrical and beautifully-crafted, including his captivating blue eyes and the white locks under his red hat.
He sighs, happy to be under a roof now. “Thanks,” he says, giving you a pearly white smile. When he gets a look at you, his smile fades and his eyes sparkle, taken aback by you. “Damn, you’re really pretty, y’know. Probably the prettiest nice girl I’ve had on my list.”
You can’t believe your luck. And three-day break and Satoru Claus comes to personally deliver your gifts? “You came for me?” you ask, exciting coiling inside of you. “Really?”
The handsome, white-haired man grins and lowers his sack down. “Yes, I did,” he replies. “You were on my Nice list this year for all of the good deeds you’ve done.”
You feel pride surge inside of you. You had a feeling that helping your mom cook for Thanksgiving dinner and helping your old neighbor with his groceries would all come back to you!
“And because of those good deeds, I have a few gifts for you…plus a very special one that I think a girl like you would enjoy.” Satoru gives you a wink before he pulls five wrapped gifts out of his sack and lowers them underneath your little tree, rearranging them in a neat line.
“Thank you!” you giggle, giddy and excited. “So what’s my special gift? Can I unwrap it tonight maybe?”
Satoru slowly turns to you, a playful glint in his blue eyes. “Oh, yes, you can, baby girl…you can unwrap it right now, if you want.”
You don’t need him to tell you exactly what this “special gift” that you can “unwrap” is. Not with the sexy, salacious smirk on his face and the mischievous gleam in his cobalt eyes. The heat that grew in your core when you admired your new rose toy intensifies, making you throb with need.
Satoru saunters over to you on his long legs, shedding his clothes as he does so. He takes off his hat and tosses it aside before his long fingers teasingly unbutton each button of his red top. With each step he takes, you walk backwards, unable to keep yourself still.
“Y’know, I don’t usually do this,”he begins in a breathy drawl that makes you tingle. “I just drop off gifts to the good boys and girls all over the world, but I just had to personally deliver this gift to you when you showed up on my list.”
You only stop moving when your back hits a wall, making you squeak. Satoru stands over you, his top now unbuttoned and his lickable, toned upper torso exposed. Your eyes drink in his luscious, pierced nipples, mouth-watering abs, and white happy trail leading to his impressive V-line and the Promiseland of his cock.
“Speechless?” he chuckles, pride in his eyes. “That’s okay, baby. Just do me a favor: nod your head if you want this. You deserve something for being such a good, sweet girl this year.”
Here this sexy, irresistible man is offering you a chance to spend the night with him instead of alone with a toy. You would be a fool to say no. Slowly, you nod your head, just trusting your voice. Satoru hums in satisfaction, tilting your chin up with his hand. “You want a kiss, baby?” he murmurs. “It is the rule, after all.”
His eyes trail up to the ceiling and so do yours, revealing the mistletoe hanging above you. You had nearly forgotten you put it up there. Your eyes trail back down to Satoru’s handsome face and juicy, pink lips begging to be tasted. “Yes, please,” you whisper. “Kiss me.”
Satoru is happy to oblige. Smiling, he leans down to reach your lips because he is so tall and you’re so goddamn short. You still have to stand on your toes to reach him, deepening the kiss by wrapping your arms around his neck.
He moans at the same time you do, both of you eager for more. His kiss is soft, slow, and sweet to the taste. He tastes of gingerbread and whipped cream, both flavors turning into aphrodisiacs for you. His big hands slowly slide up your sweatshirt, caressing your thick thighs, hips, and ass.
As you push your smaller, plumper frame against him, you can feel his hard-on pressing into your pelvis. You rub against it, feening, needing more of him. Satoru then pulls away, his gaze hot and lips swollen from the kissing. “You want your present now, baby girl?” he whispers.
He takes your hand and places it on his toned stomach before trailing it down, down, down to his bulge. Biting your lip in anticipation, you briefly wonder if you should just get on your knees, pull his dick out of his pants, and suck him off right here.
But the thoughts are only brief when you suddenly smell something tangy and sweet mixed with something spicy—like tangerine and nutmeg mixed with jalapeño. You watch as black smoke suddenly slinks from your chimney and fills your living room, nearly clouding your vision.
You and Satoru stare at the strange smoke. “Who the fuck?” you ask in unison. Suddenly, the fire flares to life again in the fireplace, but its flames are an ominous green. Satoru suddenly springs into action, pushing you between him and the wall. “Keep behind me,” he demands. “Of course, this motherfucker shows up.”
You peer over his shoulder, staring in awe as the smoke cloud grows bigger and bigger until it dissipates. Revealed in the wisps of smoke is a handsome, six-foot man with long, flowing black hair, cheekbones to die for, and violet eyes currently trained at you.
But despite this man being utterly stunning, your heart seizes in fear at the long, curved horns on his head, the tail cascading between his hooved feet and hairy legs, and the sheep’s wool adorned in bells he wears over his toned body. This man is not human.
He smiles at you, causing his eyes to crinkle. It is slightly off putting yet hypnotizing. “Hey, there, little V,” he greets, his voice deep and soothing. “You’re prettier than your photo.”
Satoru plasters on a big smile as he gazes at the thing standing in your living room. “Suguru!” he greets. “Fancy seein’ you here tonight.”
Suguru places his own sack, which is less bright or gaudy as Satoru’s, on the floor, revealing the name stitched across the front: Krampus. “Satoru,” he says, looking less than pleased to see he holly, jolly man. “Just what are you doing in my naughty girl’s house with your dick almost out?”
You look down, realizing that Satoru’s pants are down so low that you can almost see the outline of his shaft. The white-haired man scowls at Suguru, irked. “We were in the middle of something, if you don’t mind. And your naughty girl? That’s a little presumptuous.”
He snorts to himself like this is a joke, but Suguru isn’t laughing. “It isn’t when I’ve got my list.” Satoru’s smile fades, replaced with a cool, tight-lipped expression.
You stare between the two magical figures, utterly confused. “Uh….sorry, what’s going on here?” you demand.
Suguru is more than happy to fill you in. “Sorry, doll, but it appears that your Santa has mistaken you for another good girl. You’ve ended up on my naughty list this year.” His lips, pink and pierced with a silver ring, curl into a smirk. “So you’ve got me to deal with.”
You ignore the way your pussy throbs at his words. “W-What?” you stammer. “But what did I—“
“Well, let’s get out the rap sheet, shall we?” Suguru interrupts. He reaches into his jacket and unwraps a long, tattered list that stops right at Satoru’s boots. You gape at the list, in awe. There is no way your bad deeds are this long!
Suguru clears his throat, smirking and clearly enjoying himself. “Refusing to pay a parking ticket, stealing a frozen box of cheesecake by placing it at the bottom of your cart, and…” He pauses, quirking an eyebrow at you. “Masturbating at work. On top of using half of her paycheck to order sex toys.”
Satoru stares at you, in awe, while you flush in embarrassment. “I’m not paying $5 for a cheesecake,” you argue in your defense. “A-And I was on break at work and had the urge!”
Suguru laughs, the sound loud and mocking. “At least she’s honest. So that’s why I’m here: to teach naughty bitches like you a lesson that you’ll take into next year.” He points one of his claws at you and it feels like a knife jutting into your chest.
“Hey, hold up!” Satoru shouts, still hiding you behind his big body. “As much as I respect your profession, I don’t think I appreciate you storming in here and taking what’s mine. There has to be some mistake if she ended up on my list too!”
Suguru blankly stares at Satoru, obviously unamused or swayed. “Show me,” he deadpans. Satoru rips his own list out of his pocket and unfurls it, the damn thing reaching across the floor to Suguru’s hooves. The demon peers down at the list and huffs in disbelief. “Well, shit.”
“I told you!” Satoru barks, snatching his list away. “So you can take your kinky ass and head back to whatever hole you crawled out of.” Suguru sucks his teeth, irritated. “But I’m here already. Why would I leave if it took me such a long time to get here?”
Satoru waves a passive hand. “Not my problem, Krampy. You should’ve checked your list twice.” The demon cocks his head to the side, his eyes darkening. “You questioning my intelligence, Satoru?” he asks. “I don’t think I quite like that.”
The demon saunters up to Satoru, standing at least a few inches taller than the white-haired man. But Satoru isn’t afraid. He steps to Suguru, both of them chest to chest, nose to nose. “What are you gonna do?” Satoru whispers, smirking. “Whip me?”
Suguru’s lips twitch in a way that makes you think that he’s considering it…until he looks at you. “I think I’ll reserve that for her for now. So what if she’s on your list too? I’m already here and I already proved she’s on my list as well.”
His eyes hold such wicketry and deviousness that it unsettles you, but at the same time, you’ve never been more aroused. “Maybe we can reward and punish her at the same time. If you don’t mind sharing.”
The demon smirks at Satoru who thoughtfully taps his chin. Usually, I’d say no when it comes to my good girls…but I’m curious to see how she handles both of us. Naughty and nice.”
He suddenly moves aside and gently pushes you between himself and Suguru. You let out a tiny squeak of surprise, making them both laugh at your cuteness. You are now sandwiched between the two, smelling the snow on their clothes and feeling their hard cocks pressing into you.
“Would you like that, baby?” Satoru murmurs into your ear, his hands caressing your hips. Do you want us both to play with this little boy tonight?”
Suguru squeezes your face between his big, clawed hand, making your cheeks squish together. “Words, pet,” he demands. His tongue, long, forked, and pierced, trails from your neck up to your jawline, giving you a teasing lick.
The lewd act makes your pussy gush with impatience. You need the both of them right here, right now. “Y-Yes,” you stammer, your voice tiny and soft. Satoru smiles against your cheek, kissing it. “That’s my good girl.”
“Uh-huh,” Suguru scoffs, forcing you to keep looking at him. “We’ll see how good you are once you’ve got a dick in you. Now…” He leans in closer, his breath fanning your face.
“Give me a kiss,” he whispers. “Don’t I deserve a thank you for coming all the way here?”
His lips are on yours without any confirmation or consent…but you guess he saw the need in your eyes and didn’t feel the need to ask. But of course, he’s fucking Krampus. He doesn’t ask. He just takes.
Suguru’s kiss is rough, sinful, and insistent, his lips forcing yours to move in tandem with his mouth. When your lips part to moan, his tongue slides against yours, giving you a feel of the forked tip and earring stud. ‘Oh, fuck me,’ you think, delirious with horny ness.
Satoru’s gloved finger gently caresses your cheek, coaxing you away from Suguru. “Me too, baby girl,” he coos. “Don’t leave me out. I bought you all of those pretty gifts.” He takes a nibble of your bottom lip, giggling when you whimper. “But I do admit that masturbating at work ain’t so nice of you.”
He begins to kiss you while Suguru kisses your neck, licking along your collarbone. You feel his hand slide down your legs and gently pry your soft inner thighs apart.“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper.
You can only utter the two words when you suddenly feel jolts of pleasure enter you from your pussy being stimulated. “Ah!” you gasp as Geto’s fingers caress your slit.
Suguru chuckles, overjoyed by your reaction to his touch. “Lucky for us and her, we can reward this naughty little girl for her good deeds and punish her for her…bad habits.” He curls his fingers against your soaked thong, nearly digging them into your asscrack. “I think someone likes the sound of that.”
Satoru laughs, intensely watching your expression of pure torture and ecstasy. “Clearly. You want both of us, don’t you, baby?”
The two continue to assault your neck in kisses, leaving your mind blank and unable to process the English language. But to get what you want, you need to talk. “Yes,” you whisper. “Please. I promise I’ll be good.”
You would do anything to get them to touch you, taste you, and quench the thirst that you’re suffering from. Suguru grins, pleased with your confession, and uses one hand to tear your sweatshirt off of you, exposing your red lingerie. “Then get on your knees now.” His voice dips into a low and growly territory, sounding so much like a demon.
Quickly, you slink onto your knees between the two men, watching obediently as they unbuckle their belts and slide down their pants to reveal two of your big, throbbing, hard presents just for you.
After taking some time to wrap your hands around their shafts and stroke them, getting yourself used to their lengths and girths, you finally have enough of “introductions” and finally get them in your mouth.
Both of them are warm, throbbing, and thick with arousal. Their balls, heavy with unshed cum, slap against your chin when one slides down your throat, coating your tongue in their salty taste and filling your nostrils with their scent and masculine musk. When one is busy fucking you mouth, the other fucks your hand, their soft groans and grunts about how nice your soft touch feels egging you on.
You alternate between sucking off both cocks…or rather, Satoru and Suguru make you take both of them. They use your mouth for their own pleasure though one is softer than the other. While Suguru is rough and demanding, making you take his cock down your slutty throat, Satoru is slow and steady, rocking his hips against your mouth, verbal and loud about how wonderful your mouth is.
“Now that’s a good girl,�� he moans, gently stroking your hair. He stares down at you in adoration, loving how your drool drips down your mouth to coat his cock and balls as you submissively sit on your knees for him.
Suguru side-eyes the white-haired man as he vigorously fucks your hand, his warm skin stretches across the thick appendage of his cock. “Good? Sucking two big dicks at once classifies as ‘good’ to you?”
He stares down at you too, his eyes hooded with lust. “Although she is working that mouth rather nicely. Might even change my mind about bein’ a naughty little slut.” He snakes a hand through your hair and grips it, bringing you back over to take more of his cock.
He gutturally groans as he sinks into your velvety, wet mouth, joyously fucking it and making you gag along his shaft. Satoru tsks, growing harder at the sight of your beautiful face and soft lips being fucked. “Hey, now. That’s no way to talk to my good, sweet girl.”
He gently caresses your face, pushing loose strands of hair away from your sloppy, wet mouth. “Right, baby? Aren’t you a good girl and a good cocksucker for us?”
Suguru slides out of your mouth to let you speak and gulp down some air. “Yes!” you cough out, falling victim to that tickle in your throat from it being stimulated too much. Your throat feels raw and your jaw aches from being stretched out by the two big cocks in front of you.
Yet you’ve never been wetter in your entire life. Your thong digs into your asscrack, drenched in your juices. Suguru and Satoru smell how aroused you are, making them both harder just because you’re so needy for this.
“That’s how I like my girls,” Satoru coos, tapping his cock against your soft lips. “Extra good. Keep this up, cutie, and you may just end up on the Nice List again next year.” He coaxes you to press soft kisses and kitten licks against his cock head, lapping up droplets of his pre.
Suguru hums, not sounding too swayed by your words or actions. “Let’s see how good you really are with this inside you.” He bends down, picking up your rose toy between two long, clawed fingers. “Seems like you wanted to use it anyway.”
Spank!
His big hand slaps you on the ass, the sharp sound echoing throughout the cozy living room. “Ass up, naughty girl,” he growls.
You do exactly as he says, positioning yourself so your ass is tooted up while your face plants into the rug below. You tremble as Suguru glides a teasing claw across your skin, snipping off your bra so it falls off of your chest, exposing your big, soft, juicy tits.
“Don’t forget the lube!” Gojo shouts. “She needs to be comfortable!”
Suguru rolls his eyes, but squirts some of the scented heating lube onto his fingers before he toys with your pussy, stimulating the twitching, gushing little muscle. Your sweet moans drive both men to the brink of insanity, the both of them jacking themselves off as your pussy gushes around Suguru’s fingers.
Moments later after torturous teasing, Suguru finally forces you onto all fours and places the buzzing toy against your sobbing cunt after choosing the setting for you. He watches your gorgeous, voluptuous ass and soft pussy while Satoru fucks your mouth, just as enchanted. “Fuck, baby, look how pretty your pussy looks. Does it feel good?”
His cheeks are flushed from the lewd sight of you oozing and gushing all over the rose. You can’t form one single thought in your blank brain, the buzzing and vibrating from te toy too fucking good for words. “Sa-Sa…Tarou, f-fuck!” you stammer around his cock.
Suguru chuckles, grabbing a handful of your ass to squeeze and jiggle for his own enjoyment. “Little slut can’t even speak. That rose must pack a bigger punch than I thought it did…but maybe, that’s just ‘cause I’ve got it on the highest setting.”
He lets out a wicked cackle as you desperately moan against the high vibrations, feeling them coursing through your veins. The jolts of pleasure are relentless and forceful, taking you on a trip. “Please!” you whine around Satoru’s dick. “Please!”
You hiss in pain as Suguru sinks his claws into your asscheek, nearly breaking the skin. It feels oddly good and intensifies your pleasure. “‘Please’ what, sweetheart?” he condescendingly coos. “‘Please’ taste me? ‘Please’ fuck me? What do you need?”
Satoru slides his dick out of your mouth, keeping a hand on himself to stroke your saliva into his shaft. “You!” you sob, not quite being clear about who you mean. “Please just fucking touch me!”
At this point, both men know that you want both of them. Their hands. Their tongues. Their cocks. Everything. “Now, those aren’t nice words, baby,” Satoru tuts, tapping his cock against your lips and nose. “I’ll need to fuck that mouth into submission, won’t I?”
“And she’ll be taking it,” Suguru chuckles. “Plus somethin’ else in another hole that needs to be fucked into submission.” He takes the toy away from your cunt and slurps your juices off of it before turning it off.
Satoru helps you sit up despite how dazed and confused you are, dizzy from the pleasure. Suguru stares you down, his violet eyes drilling into your soul. “Bend over the couch,” he growls, his voice low and almost demonic. “We wanna see that pretty ass. Now.”
You do as he says and crawl over to the couch because your legs are jelly at the moment, earning some appreciative spanks in response. Once you’re bent over the couch, Suguru snaps the weak string of your thong off with his claw in one single slice.
The thong comes off, exposing your ass to both horny, feening men. You can barely take a breath before you feel the sting of a whip crack against your skin.
Crack!
You gasp at the harsh sensation against your ass, gripping the couch for dear life at the burn. Suguru does it again, sending his leather whip against your ass.
Crack!
“O-Ow!” you shout. Tears spring into your eyes at the harsh fire that licks across your asscheeks. Suguru sighs in a way that reminds you of a starving man relieved to finally eat.
“You cry so pretty for me, little doll,” he groans. “So sexy. You’re lucky I have to share you tonight because I’d fuck you up.”
He cracks his whip again, but not against your skin. However, it still makes you flinch, causing him to laugh at your reaction. Such a sadist.
“Oh, he doesn’t mean that, cutie,” Satoru coos into your asscheeks. He has knelt down to sweeten the red-hot lashes from Suguru’s whip with kisses. “He just thinks you’re too cute to control himself. I’m in the same boat.”
Suguru ghosts a hand across your sobbing slit, humming at the juices that coat his digits. “I bet Ol’ St. Gojo would love to see all of your holes get fucked now,” he whispers. “Ya think, sugar?”
You can hardly speak now, but when both men have their way with you later, you can’t even think of anything to remotely talk about. You have never felt so tortured before until you feel Satoru’s big cock fucking your mouth like a toy while Suguru greedily fucks your pussy with his forked tongue.
The demon is bent down with his face shoved between your asscheeks, greedily lapping away at your pussy. His claws grip your ass and pull each cheek apart to dig his forked tongue more into your cunt, giving you a feel of the cold metal of his piercing against your heated clit.
Satoru watches your lips wobble and your big, brown eyes fill with tears as he fucks your mouth with all the vigor of a man wanting to get his nut, enchanted by the way Suguru looks stuffed in your ass. “Fuck, baby, you look so good,” he moans. “You take that cock so well. Such a good girl for me.”
Between Satoru’s orgasmic moans and Suguru’s sinful tongue, it doesn’t take long for the urge to cum to rise to the surface. The sounds of Suguru’s tongue in your cunt are wet and sloppy like a spoon swirling around in a bowl of Mac n’ Cheese, the tip of his tongue tickling your clit.
“Swugu!” you moan, your words muffled and jumbled by Satoru’s dick. “I’m gwonna cwum!” Luckily for you, the demon is eager to taste the essence of your release on his tongue finally. “Do it,” he demands, growling into your cunt. “Cum for me, sugar. Give it to me now.”
His voice seems to hypnotize you, triggering your brain in a way that makes it shut down. Suddenly, a haze coats your mind as if you are driving in the backseat of a car while someone else is at the wheel, flooring the car through a thick fog. You know someone else is in control and it’s not you, but you’re okay with it.
Maybe that’s because of how fucking good you feel as your orgasm tumbles down onto like a ton of bricks. You whine around Satoru’s dick as you cum, gushing ounces of cum into Suguru’s waiting mouth. He hungrily drinks you in, slurping as much as he can, your juices dripping down his chin.
“Don’t be greedy,” Satoru growls, impatient. “Give me some too. We’re sharing her, remember?”
Suguru looks up at him, his violet eyes ablaze with lust and a feral energy that you can feel in the way he massages your ass. Suddenly, he tears himself away from your cunt and grabs the back of Satoru’s neck before pulling him in for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.
You gape at the two, watching as they swap spit and your taste between them, soft moans and groans leaving their mouths as they aggressively kiss in front of you. Finally, they pull away and give their attention to you again.
“Good girl,” Satoru whispers, gently stroking your hair. Suguru shakes his head, still not moved. “Not quite yet. She still needs somethin’ a bit more corporal…with lube, of course.”
He gives you a smirk as he crooks his finger at the lube on the floor. The bottle begins to levitate and magically gravitates to Suguru’s hand like a moth to the flame. He squirts some onto his cock and uses his hand to coat it, making it slick and oh-so yummy-looking.
“I’m gonna slide my cock inside of you and fuck this slutty pussy now,” he says, his voice low and breathy. “And while I do, Claus is gonna fuck your throat. And you’re gonna take all of it like the nasty little bitch you are.” He wraps a hand around your throat and squeezes, momentarily rendering you breathless. “Understand?” he growls, his eyes flaring at you.
Satoru hooks a hand underneath your body to play with your clit, coaxing you to answer. “Yes, Daddies,” you moan, delirious and dumb with need. “I promise!”
That is all the two need to hear. Moments later, you are being spit roasted by both hunks, two big cocks stretching out your holes and fucking them into oblivion. Satoru uses your throat to his heart’s content, his own slutty moans and grunts leaving his lips as he watches you take Suguru from behind.
Suguru fucks you rough, deep, and hard, sliding as much of his big cock into you as he can, his heavy balls slapping against your clit with every thrust. He grips your ass so hard that his claws dig into the meaty flesh of your asscheeks, possibly drawing blood, as he grunts and growls, animalistic in the way he fucks. He is relentless and merciless, taking as much as he gives, but you expect nothing less from a demon.
He presses his lips against your ear, his tongue sliding against your earlobe. “Take those cocks, sugar,” he whispers in your ear. “Take both of them like I know you can.”
You have no choice but to do so, your jaw aching and pussy squelching the more you are fucked from both ends. Satoru peers into your dazed eyes that are nearly rolled to the back of your head. “You still doin’ okay, baby?” he worriedly asks. “You look so dazed.” Suguru laughs, loud and mocking. “That’s ‘cause she’s gettin’ slutted out just like she wants to be.”
He gives your ass another harsh spank, loving the way it claps for him, and reaches down to toy with your tummy. You moan around Satoru’s cock as you slowly begin to toss your ass back into Suguru, fucking yourself on his cock as if he was a dildo. “Yes,” he growls. “Fuck me back, naughty girl. Show Satoru how fuckin’ nasty you are.”
Satoru watches on, eyes glazed and cheeks all aglow with lust and astonishment, noticing how your ass, tummy, and tits jiggle with each thrust of Suguru’s dick inside of your wet pussy. “Go on, cutie, fuck him back,” he encourages. “Show me how much you need this.”
You do your absolute best to do just that, egged on by your need to cum and the luscious moans coming from Satoru and Suguru fucking your body. Using it for their pleasure. You can feel Suguru’s cock swelling and throbbing between your pussy walls, stroking them relentlessly until you can feel that urge to cum cresting again. You reach down to frantically rub your clit, pushing yourself to gush around the big, fat cock inside of you.
“Cum for me again,” Suguru growls. “Cum for us again. Make that slutty pussy cream around my cock, sugar.” Like a puppet on some strings, you finally let go and cum for the second time, intense jolts of pleasure coursing throughout your body. You moan loud and wanton around Satoru’s dick as you soak Suguru and your inner thighs with your cum, sticky droplets of it dripping down your legs and his balls.
Satoru watches your face, loving how your brown eyes roll back and your body twitches from the ecstasy. “So pretty,” he whines. “I want you to take my cum too.” Suguru smirks at him, a devious glint in his eye. “Make her do then. She’ll do exactly what you say.”
Satoru begins to speed up his thrusts, rutting into your mouth again and again, his moans growing louder and more high-pitched. Finally, his hips tense and his abs clench as his orgasm takes over, gripping your hair to hold you down on his cock. “Fuck!” he loudly groans as his taste floods your tongue. His spunk fills up your mouth, leaving you no choice but to swallow it all.
Suguru hums in approval, watching you swallow each ounce of cum. “Mmm, now that’s a good cock slut,” he coos. “You haven’t quite persuaded me that you’re good yet.” He spanks and grips a handful of your ass, sinking his claws into the meaty flesh once more. “Maybe if you take this fat load of mine, I’ll reconsider.”
He ruts into you faster and harder, pistoning you into Satoru who holds your face in his hands, making you look up into his soft, loving blue eyes. “Take his cum, baby girl,” he murmurs. “Just look at me, okay? Look me in my eyes when you take it all.”
You do as he says despite Suguru’s rough fucking, his feral grunts growing louder and warning you of his orgasm. “M’cumming!” he growls. “Gonna give you everything you need!” After a few more earth-shattering, body-breaking thrusts, the demon lets out a low groan and roots rope after rope of spunk inside of your pussy, filling your hole to the brim with it.
You gasp at the warm sensation, another mini-orgasm coursing through you and making you tremor. Your shake and shudder against Suguru’s cock as you both ride out your orgasms one second at a time, Suguru’s thrusts growing sloppier and slower as his high fades. “Oooh, you came again, little doll?” he chuckles, feeling you pulse around his dick. “Such a needy thing. I bet that felt real good.”
Satoru presses a kiss to your sweaty brow and releases your face, allowing your head to lull exhaustively between your shoulders. But Suguru is way less generous. He takes your hair and yanks it back, making you hiss in pain. “What do you say?” he firmly demands.
Against the sting of your scalp and the haze of your three orgasms, you manage to find the words that he is looking for. “Thank you, Daddies,” you breathlessly answer. “Thank you for fucking me.”
Suguru hums in approval, gently releasing your hair. “You’re very welcome, baby,” Satoru adoringly murmurs. “You did so, so well for us. You gave us a Christmas gift too with this body.” He gently wipes his cum and your drool from your pretty lips, committing your features to his memory.
“Mmm, definitely,” Suguru agrees, softly moaning as he pulls his cock out of you, shuddering in delight at the sight of his cum dripping out of you. “But the poor thing looks tuckered out.”
‘Tuckered out’ isn’t even the right word to use for your current state. Your muscles ache and feel as if you just completed an hour at the gym doing cardio and weight-training. Your pussy aches and throbs in a way that makes you crave a nice oil massage and a hot bath to soothe it. Your mind is fuzzy with exhaustion and overall? You just need sleep.
After the duo get dressed, Satoru slowly lays you down on the couch and places a soft duvet over your body. He and Suguru both come over to press a kiss to each of your cheeks as your eyes struggle to keep open. “Sleep well, little girl,” Suguru softly murmurs. “You’ve earned it.”
Satoru’s gloved hand soothingly strokes your brow, coaxing you deeper and deeper into slumber. “Sweet dreams, baby,” he whispers. “I’ll be back next Christmas, you’ll see.”
“And so will I,” Suguru chuckles. “Until then, doll.”
The last noise you hear is the sound of sleigh bells fading away into the distance as sleep takes you. When you sleep, you sleep all night on the couch until the next morning when the sun rises on Christmas Day.
When you awaken, you at first believe that last night was just a silly dream…until you find two special gifts left for you on the mantle above your fireplace.
One is a bright, golden jingle bell with “Claus” etched into the metal.
And another is a dingier, brass jingle bell the color of old silver with the name “Krampus” burnt into the metal.
Both reminders of what to be for the rest of the new year.
THE END.
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hellfire--cult · 1 year ago
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Krampus!Eddie x Virgin!Fem!Reader
wc: 5k
+18 mdni, krampus meets reader at 18 (no smut at that age), obsession from reader, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), loss of virginity in adulthood, christmas folklore, dark fic, reader isn't a good person.
plot: At 18 years old you were visited by Krampus for misbehaviour, but you instantly fell in love with the creature. Years pass, your sick and toxic obsession grows, making a beast's curiosity bloom, and so, he visits you once again after many years.
a/n: yep, its a reupload after rewriting.
always reblog, don't just like.
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MISBEHAVED
Of all the things you thought this monster would look like, you didn’t think he would look like this.
Even the idea of him existing like Saint Nicholas was a crazy thought by itself, but here he is, in the flesh, while Chrissy probably got visited by Saint Nicholas, you were visited by…
“What a naughty girl you’ve been this year, pumpkin.” 
You were in the corner of your room with the candle in your hand, trying to light anything close to you as much as possible, the monster's steps getting closer as you gulped loudly, waiting for a hideous monster to appear in front of your eighteen-year-old self.
But in front of you appeared a gorgeous man, with big horns on his head, like a goat’s. Deep brown eyes that glistened with the candle in your hand, long dark curls falling from the top of his head and down to his shoulders, his bare chest, full of symbols, and then you saw his bottom half, pants that resembled black fur as he bent down towards your face.
You couldn’t look away at how beautiful he looked, how this being could be considered a monster at all. Is beauty considered evil? If he was like this, what did Saint Nicholas look like?
“Are you going to take me away?” You asked, almost as if wishing for it, and the man before you smirked, taking something out from the side pocket of his pants, and you could see the twig of a tree, handing it to you. Your confused face made him scoff with a shake of his head.
“No. But this is what you get this year for Christmas. Next year, try to be good, okay?” His tone was calm, and reassuring, yet with a hint of malice behind it that sent a shiver down your spine. 
“What’s your name?” Your voice finally got out and he was surprised that you asked such a question.
“Well, I am Krampus.”
“No, your real name.” And his red eyes glistened with a hint of gold, with a hint of amusement. 
“Hmm… If you behave, I will let Saint Nicholas give you the knowledge of it next year. How does that sound?”
And the man, if you could consider him that, smiled at you, and that was all it took. All that smile did was finally set your heart into a quick pace, and that’s when you realized:
You became obsessed with him and you would do anything to get to see him again.
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So the next year, you behaved, just like he said, and at nineteen years old, Saint Nicholas visited you, only for you to receive the letter ‘E’ as a gift.
“If you keep behaving well, I will give you one letter every year until you complete his full name.” 
You were angry, you behaved yourself for nothing, but what if you misbehaved on purpose and he didn’t come anyway? And you wanted to know his real name, you really did. So every year, you kept doing good deeds, even if not with good intentions, you helped with herding the sheep for Mrs.Driscoll, helped Wayne Munson with his farm, and did communal duties in the small town with Nancy Wheeler and Joyce Byers. 
Electricity was slowly making its way into the town as the years passed, and each year you received a new letter from Saint Nicholas.
Until you finally reached twenty-one. Saint Nicholas didn’t arrive anymore because you were an adult, but you had a good guess as to what his name might be, something inside you told you so.
'ED'.
You knew he wasn’t going to appear, so you kept your good deeds, but with a bad intention. For example, you helped young Dustin Henderson by teaching him how to milk a cow, yet you didn’t teach him he didn’t have to stand behind it after milking it. The boy received a black eye the next day.
You agreed to help Jonathan Byers with the preparations for a festival that was going to be held in the center of the town, and you handed him the new scented candles that were gifted to you by a lady in the neighboring town. When they were turned on, the candles smelled like rancid milk, and Jonathan took all the blame. 
But he never showed. No matter how many years passed, even if you were now twenty-five years old, you couldn’t find anything to help you in invoking him again.
You knew this love of yours would never cease, but the children in town were all good, so Krampus was never seen. You had no way of contacting him, even if you did rituals, even if you tried to talk to Saint Nicholas by creeping on Christmas nights into the houses of the townspeople who had kids, but you were always a second late.
So now, you were pacing around in your house, already sick of this game, sick of these obsessive feelings of yours over a beast that you didn’t know if he even remembered you. Over someone that probably didn’t give a damn about you and who you were, yet you studied him for years, through the tales, through the books, through the experiences, through the people in other towns.
You were never going to see him again. You were tricked by him into believing that you would see him again, and the anger that was sipping through your pores was great, too big.
“Fuck you, Edward! Damn you!”
And the fireplace immediately went out, as the newly installed lightbulbs in your home flicked until they exploded.
You screamed as well as cursed because those were expensive, a dollar each. The price of luxury was a lot, but you wanted the electricity, already tired of lighting candles throughout the small house you bought for yourself after your mother passed away thanks to tuberculosis.
Your head whipped around when you heard the sound of what sounded like hooves coming in contact with the wooden floor of your house, slowly changing into soft steps. You ran to your kitchen to grab your knife in self-defense, pointing it at the open space. 
“Who’s there!?”
“You’ve been really naughty, Pumpkin.” 
Your blood went cold as two bright yellow eyes shone in the darkness of your living room, and suddenly, there was a snap of fingers and the fireplace lit up again, burning the logs at a fast pace, and it illuminated the entire room, the Christmas tree in the corner now with its decorations glistening once more with the embers of the fireplace.
Yet despite those glistening decorations, your eyes could only focus on one thing. The man, the monster, the creature that you’ve been seeking to see again, standing in the middle of the living room, his hands in his pockets, and a stern look on his face that made you drop the knife to the floor.
Your breathing picked up, your heart thrumming in your chest, and you couldn’t help but swoon at the face you’ve been craving to see all these years, and now he is in front of you, even if angry.
“Edward…” You sighed in pure bliss, in happiness, and you knew you were obsessed, crazy even, but you couldn’t help yourself. You fell for him the very first moment he visited you, and now you are a grown woman, still holding onto those lovely feelings, never forgetting about his eyes that changed from brown to red, to gold.
“Look who’s all grown up, you’re even cursing my name out loud.” He snarled at you, and you could see how intense his gaze was as he scanned you. He took a few steps towards you, his now bare feet coming in contact with the wood, and you wondered if he looked different, yet he took this shape to not scare kids or people off.
“I– I behaved. I earned it.” 
“You didn’t behave with honesty. You weren’t a good person because you wanted to be, you were a good person because of your selfishness.” He was finally in front of you with his hands still in his pockets, and his eyes were intense, a deep yellow, staring you down with an unreadable expression.
“I still behaved, that was the deal. You never specified if I behaved honestly or not.” You responded and his eyes twitched in surprise at how mischievous you were. How… brilliant you were.
“And may I ask why you were so obsessed with knowing my name?” He asked and you couldn’t help but press your legs together as heat rose all over your body, your cheeks becoming flushed as you looked at him. 
“I wanted to see you again.” 
“You are a big adult now, past twenty-one.” And at his response, you finally showed him a big grin on your face, and his eyes flashed with intrigue.
“And yet you are still here… Eddie.” 
And the puzzle clicked in his head, a smirk appearing on his lips as his tongue darted out to lick all over them as the thirst came up in his throat, his eyes turning a deep red, and lust filled him to the brim, thanks to the woman that was in front of him. 
Your eyes darted from his eyes to the horns, to his hair, to the markings all over his chest and arms, and then, he took his hands out of his pockets, to reveal long nails, like claws. You took a sharp intake of breath as he leaned his face towards yours, inspecting you.
“So you have been misbehaving lately so you could see me again? What is your plan?” He asked in a sultry tone and you just sighed in relief and bliss, and you were brave enough to wrap your arms around his shoulders to pull him close, feeling his broad back underneath your forearms, making you clench your legs again.
“I waited for you… aren’t I good?”
And that made Eddie groan loudly, and with a snap of his fingers you were now in your room, and he pushed you off him so you could fall flat on your bed, taking you by surprise because of how the environment changed in one quick motion.
“No, you are not. If you were, I wouldn’t be here.” Your breathing was heavy, your gut turning with nervousness and excitement because what you’ve been craving was right in front of you. You want him to take you. To make you his. To mark you. 
You heard another snap of his fingers and what appeared to be floating candles appeared all around the room, lighting it subtly, endearingly, almost as if it were some sort of ritual, but you weren’t scared of it. You weren’t afraid of what might happen, because whatever it is, whatever he does, you would gladly take it.
He tilted his head to the side as he looked down at your body, and then your eyes widened when his tongue darted out just like before, and now you could see just how long and pointy it actually was, and that only made you wet with the idea of feeling it against your skin. 
“Please…” Your hips raised up slightly towards him as if presenting yourself like a bitch in heat. His eyes scanned your body, wondering if you were right in the head, but from what Saint Nicholas had been telling him over the years, it seemed you were doing everything with a conscious mind.
You wanted him, for whatever reason that was. He’s only seen you once, and you became attached to him like a moth to a flame. He took a deep breath in, inhaling your scent, be it the one you were emanating from your pores as well as the scent from the wetness between your thighs. 
His clawed hand shot out to grip the front of your white nightgown, startling you when you start hearing a ripping sound. Your body jerked upwards as he ripped the gown apart, opening for him, and now you lay there, bare for him to take in with his red lust-filled eyes. 
“You are untouched.” It was a confirmation, and you smiled at him with a nod, and that only made his hunger increase by a hundred. A virgin. Now he realized what you meant when you said you waited for him. 
“I want you, and only you…” You finally admitted it to him, and his eyes found yours. Your breathing was heavy, your breasts moving up and down as your lungs tried to get oxygen inside, your cunt pulsing with need. 
And his eyes gleamed in a golden hue once more, as if there was a click of some sort.
A growl was heard in the room and you yelped as he grabbed your thighs, pushing you closer to the edge of your bed. He fell to his knees and took a deep inhale of your intoxicating scent. You needed to be punished for your behavior, the biggest punishment. 
His long tongue snaked out of his lips to flick your clit, making you gasp as you stared at the ceiling. This new feeling, so dirty, something you waited for so long, and even if you had the chance to, you didn’t want anybody but him.
He licked around your folds, tasting the wetness that surrounded them, an animalistic groan vibrating in his chest, his claws digging into your inner thighs as he kept your legs open for him. He couldn’t wait anymore, pressing all of his tongue against your slick, tasting you completely, and you finally let out a moan out of pure ecstasy as you gripped the sheets below you.
He smirked against your cunt as it pulsated for more contact, and he immediately dove in. Your moans could probably be heard from outside, but you didn’t care, nobody was near you, so there was nothing that could forbid you from yelling his name, from crying out from the pleasure you were feeling. 
His tongue was going in between tasting you and flicking your clit repeatedly. His lips sucked on your folds and you couldn’t believe you waited for so long to feel something like this, but it was worth it. It’s so worth it.
Your eyes opened wide when you felt his tongue slowly sliding inside of you. You’ve only touched yourself outside, you never inserted a finger of yours even if you were curious. This feeling was weird, but pleasurable all the while. You felt it move inside of you, as if flicking your walls from side to side, making your back arch upwards.
“Oh–!” You were amazed by how good this felt, how amazing he was making you feel with just these simple touches, these hungry kisses all around your center.
“You taste delightfully darling. And I am the first to taste it.” And last is what he wants to say, but he will take that comment with him, at least for now. He needs to keep his tongue inside of you, drunk of your taste, of your juices filling his taste buds. 
“Edward– Eddie, please–” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but you needed something, yet you didn’t know what. He then pressed his nose against your clit as his tongue swirled inside of you, and you let out a loud moan, your hands shooting down to get hold of both of his horns.
He moaned against your cunt, desire shooting downwards, the pants becoming too constricting on him. His horns are quite sensitive, and you are pulling him against you even harder as you start to ride your hips against his face. What a naughty girl. His naughty girl.
His claws dug into your inner thighs as he felt you start shaking under his ministrations, your moans growing louder as he felt you pulsating against his tongue, clenching, body arching upwards as his name kept coming out of your mouth, over and over again. 
“CHRIST!” You finally yelled as the tight band finally snapped inside of your belly, making you spasm against his hold, your hands gripping his horns as you rode your hips against his face, trying to feel all of your orgasm as he tasted and drank every gush you let out, not missing a single drop.
You were an elixir. He’s never been with a human before, mostly because he is in charge of children rather than adults, but you were a special case. He had to know why you wanted his name so badly, and now he is more than happy that you know it, that you even gave him a nickname so it would be easier for you to scream. 
He pulled away from you, licking a few stripes of your center, making you jerk slightly at the overstimulation as you slowly came down from your high. He let go of your legs, seeing that there was some blood on your inner thighs where his claws dug into. He licked onto your wounds, and your skin instantly started patching back up.
He stood up, towering over your naked body as you breathed heavily, looking at him with dazed eyes, yet still hungry. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers again, and you looked down to see his pants slowly fading away, and you gasped as you saw just how big he was. 
You’ve never seen male anatomy before, but this– you knew that this was not normal. And you remembered that Krampus– Eddie, is not human. He never was, yet you didn’t care. Was he a demon? A monster? A spirit? You didn’t care at all. From the pictures of the books you found, the supposed drawings didn't do him any justice.
But maybe, this was not his original shape.
“Even if you deserve to be punished, I will be gentle with you darling. I don’t wanna break this– lovely present you are giving me in this advent season.” You could hear the smirk in his tone as his hands wrapped around your frame to pull you back up into the middle of the bed. 
Nerves filled your body but were quickly removed as you felt his tongue licking from your knee, towards your hips, then your stomach, all the way up changing into kisses as he reached one of your nipples. He swirled his tongue around the hardened nub to then clamp his mouth against it and that’s when you jerked again, pleasure shooting to your core again.
Your arms immediately wrapped around his back as your legs opened for him to slot right in the middle. You felt his hardness against you, and you didn’t care if it hurt, as long as he finally took you for himself, to complete this fantasy of yours, for him to know just how obsessed and how much you love him.
Because that’s what you feel. Love. Unconditionally, in the weirdest of forms.
It was crazy to think that you fell in love at first sight, but it was what happened. You fell for him as soon as his eyes clashed with yours, and it was one-sided. You didn’t care if it was, and if it still is. He would own you now, even if you never saw him again, you would be forever happy.
Your eyes widened when pain shot all over your chest, and you didn’t realize until now that the man had fangs. He has fangs or some kind of sharpened teeth, yet even in the pain you still felt pleasure. He let go of your right nipple to keep licking his way up as you moan from the feeling of his hot tongue on your skin.
He raised his head from your skin to look down on your face, and your eyes clashed with his again, and they glistened with a golden hue through the red once more. He leaned forward and your heart stopped as you felt his lips against yours, another place where you remained untouched. 
You kissed him back, not having expected that he would kiss you at all, and in such an intimate way. He was soft, caring, not at all what you thought he would be, yet he was proving you wrong. Maybe the tales were wrong. He is not evil, he never was. His job was always to make children learn from their mistakes, while Saint Nicholas took the good guy part for himself when all he did was pamper selfish children.
Eddie groaned into your lips and you couldn’t help but open your eyes to finally see the tail behind him, something you didn’t spot before, maybe because he tucked it too well, or hid it. It was wagging, almost like a whip, with a fluffy end. It was black, and you couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him now. 
You closed your eyes once more as you felt his tongue lick your bottom lip, and your lips parted to let him inside your mouth, your tongues dancing with each other now, making your cunt clench in need again. You didn’t know that kissing someone could turn you on like this, but he is proving you wrong with each touch he gives you and provides you with.
His hands were caressing all of your body. Your sides, your hips, your thighs until one of his hands disappeared, only to feel him line himself up to your entrance and his lips pulled away from yours, looking down at your face.
“Breathe out. Don’t hold it in. Be a good girl for once.”
And you listened. Krampus calling you a good girl was something that ignited thousands of flames inside of your body, and his hips moved forward, breaching you open. You threw your head back with a wince as you felt him slowly opening you up for the first time ever. It stung, and it definitely burned, but it would pass, it has to pass.
“It– It hurts– But… Don’t stop–”
“Didn’t think of doing that. You still need punishment after all.” He almost sounded unphased, as if he weren’t stimulated at all, yet you could hear some restraint in his voice as if holding in something in the back of his throat. 
He was claiming you. Slowly and torturously, and even in your short gasps and winces, you took it all. He was amazed by you, how you waited for him, how much you wanted him despite him not being human. Maybe you weren’t right in the head after all. 
And he hit the wall, and with one hard thrust, he plunged forward, finally breaking it. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as pain shot through your body, but you heard him finally moan out in bliss as your tightness engulfed him. You were so warm, so perfect for him that he could hardly handle it. 
“Ed– Eddie–” You were choking out his name as you tried to adjust to his size, your cunt pulsing around him at the sudden intrusion. He raised himself up, his hands on each side of your head as your nails dug into his sides. Your eyes widened when you saw the symbols on his body start to shine, it was dim, but it was a dark glow, like a shadow around them. 
“Such a good girl…” And those words made you relax once again, and that let him be able to move backward, slowly, eliciting a wince from your part, and then a gasp as he moved back in again. “So good for me.”
You felt tears rolling down your face, but a smile was spread on your lips, and if someone told you that you would have to endure this pain every time in order to see him over and over again, you would. You definitely would. 
His hips moved back again and then pushed in once more. The winces slowly turned into moans, the pain fading away, and even if the burning remained, the pleasure was slowly increasing inside of you as his thrusts started gaining some speed and momentum. Your eyes were hazy as they tried to adjust to look at his face.
His eyes were pure gold now, yellow as they looked down at your face, contorting in pure ecstasy as his thrusts became deeper now, your body jerking upwards as he started hitting a part of you, inside, that you didn’t know you could feel. You didn’t know what it was, but it was a hundred times better than your clit. 
“Oh– Fuck– Fuck!” Your head was thrown back as your nails scratched onto his sides, making a groan escape him, his posture straightening to grab the back of your knees, pulling your legs up, opening you wider for him and that’s when you felt his need, his desire, as he started moving fast, desperate, and he was fixated on your breasts as they bounced at his every move.
He couldn’t take his eyes away from you as you moaned his name over and over again, and he felt the marks on his body burning him, making the pleasure even more unbearable. He needed to make you his, forever. Give you the worst punishment Krampus can give to bad people.
His hands slipped down to get hold of your hips and you kept your legs up as the skin slapping could be heard all over your house, pulling you towards him each time he thrust in, helping him go deeper into you and harder. 
He could feel your walls clenching again, and he smirked as he looked down at you, your mouth open, drooling, as your hands were over your head, all over your pillow as you moved up and down thanks to his movements, the wood of the bed creaking against the floor.
“Come on sweet girl, you can give me one more, just one more.” One of his hands left your hips to get in between the two of you and you winced when you felt one of his nails scratch your clit, only to then moan when his digit came in contact and started to draw circles on it as he kept thrusting in and out of you as he tried to reach his own high.
“I love you– I love you– Make me yours, please– please!” And he smiled wickedly as he moaned out at your words. He knew you meant them, wholeheartedly. You really weren’t right in the head. He was sure of it now, and he didn’t know who to thank for that, but he was eternally grateful for them.
His thrusts quickened as he kept hitting that part inside of you while circling your clit with his thumb. You felt your body growing hot, like fire, as your legs started shaking and your hips jerking towards him as you felt your belly tighten, burn you, scream at you for release, and your hands were gripping onto your pillow under your head as your mouth was wide open with silent moans coming out of it.
“Do it, my good girl, do it.” 
My good girl.
And that did it for you, clenching tightly around him, like a vice grip, like a python against their prey, crying his name, loudly, with breathy moans escaping you as your body shook against him. He didn’t stop his thrusting as he looked down at you, mesmerized, and he knew now that he definitely couldn’t let you go. 
And so he claimed you, moaning your name loudly, even if you have never told him, he knew it. He spilled inside of you in long ropes, jerking his hips at every shot. Who would've thought a human would feel like this? Taste like this? He is obsessed now, not going to be able to let go of this, he is drunk on it, high on it, and he is definitely addicted.
You were at his mercy, in body and soul, and one of the things Krampus loves most is new toys. New toys that bend at his every will. New toys that would benefit him. New toys that he can play with, anytime he wants.
He was breathing heavily, yet tried to conceal it as he stared down at your face, completely spent, with tears and drool running downwards the side of your face. Oh yes… he almost forgot…
He leaned downwards to be face to face with you, and you opened your eyes to look at him. He smirked as he leaned down towards your neck, giving you a small lick before clamping his teeth down onto your skin, making you gasp in surprise at the sudden pain as your hands came to grip his shoulders for support.
You felt him suck on your skin, suck on your blood, for him to then pull away, another lick of his tongue on the wound he just provoked. He pulled away to look at the new mark on your skin, a symbol, a black swirl. He looked down at you, smiling wickedly as he rubbed your cheek.
“Time for me to give you your punishment.” Your eyebrows pinched together as you looked at him with a completely spent look in your eyes.
“My punishment?”
“Krampus is taking you away for misbehaving… horribly.”
And then the house was silent, the lights gone, candles gone out, fireplace with no embers, and then the townspeople never saw you again.
But children now say that Krampus does not come alone. The figure of a woman always stands in the doorway as he does his job, and his deeds, and the only thing the children can see from the shadows is a wicked smile, her white teeth, and glowing golden eyes.
Same as Krampus.
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End
an: fuck them cute christmas fics
Merry Christmas, you naughty children.
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paige1722 · 1 day ago
Text
Bah Humbug
Summary: instead of playing nice with the village that chooses to sacrifice you, you get revenge!!! This is an alternative to Silent Night.
Pairing: Krampus!Konig x GN!Reader
Warnings: major death, gruesome, Krampus, attempted sacrifice, mentions of hell
I hope this is what you were looking for, it starts out kind of similar but I made the characters a little more cruel towards the reader. I hope you like it!!! @melimelisworld
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The village you live in is small and quite quaint; everyone knows everyone, and nothing stays secret for long. Growing up here, you recall how loving everyone was to each other, people constantly stepping up to help others. Now that all seems like a distant memory, as the never-ending blizzard that plagues your town causes food and trading shortages, everyone has become bitter and cruel towards one another, willing to do anything just to save themselves. 
As you looked out of the window of your small cottage towards the center of town, where in years past, you would be able to see streets filled with people walking around with their loved ones, children, and their parents playing out in the snow together, laughter filling the air, but now the streets are empty nothing but the white snow covering the stone paths throughout the village. The harsh wind caused the window panes to groan, and the snow kept piling up more and more. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as a figure marches their way through the thick snow from your neighbor's house towards your front door. 
You walk to your front door just in time to hear a harsh knock. When you open it, you see Philip, the assistant to the village leader. Moving back so he can enter, he makes his way inside, tracking snow throughout your house. Once inside, he makes his way towards your fireplace, placing his hands in front of the fire. 
“Philip, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” you asked, closing the door behind him and moving to stand in the middle of your living room. Feeling a bit uneasy at the sight of him in your house, nothing good ever comes from one of his visits, usually trying to con people out of food rations for himself, saying it is for the good of the village. 
He turns around, placing his hands around his back to keep them in front of the fire, his eyes scrutinizing you, a small sneer on his face. The fire casing an ominous shadow over his frame, and you are now able to get a better look at him. The food shortages obviously have no effect on him. At the same time, most people in your village, yourself included, are forced to ration their food just to make it through the week. He and Shepherd, the village leader, constantly have full plates, never once having to starve, wondering where their next meal is coming from. His expensive fur jacket looked more pristine than ever, and nothing on his outfit was out of place. 
“Yes, I have been tasked with letting everyone know that at six tonight, there will be an emergency village meeting in the church. It is mandatory for everyone to be in attendance.” He sounds as if this task is below him, but he will do whatever Shepherd tells him to do.
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and you feel skeptical about the emergency meeting. “Oh, okay. By any chance, do you know what the meeting will be about?” 
At your innocent question, Philip squints his eye, looking at you up and down suspiciously, clenching his jaw and taking quick steps towards you. He points an accusatory finger in your face, causing you to step back at his fast approach. “It does not matter what the meeting is about. You are required to be in attendance, understand?” 
Your back hits the wall separating the living room from the kitchen; setting your hands on his chest, pushing him back from you, he stumbles back, grabbing hold of your wrist, disgust clear on his face. His breath hits your face, “have some respect for your village leaders.” 
Ripping your hand from his grip, you walk towards the door, open it, and motion for him to leave, venom clear in your voice, “You are just the assistant, not the town leader. You can leave now. You told me about the meeting.” 
Smoothing down his jacket and giving you one of his signature smiles, Philip chuckles and walks back toward the front door. He pauses to stare at you, a strange look in his eye. “I look forward to seeing you at the meeting then,” he winks as he walks out the door and back into the snow.
You shut the door behind him, sliding the lock into place. You let out the breath you had been holding, wishing that things could go back to normal in the village. What does it matter if you were not going to attend the meeting? Though with his reaction at the thought that you were not going had him acting like that, you fear to think of what he would actually do if you failed to make an appearance. Not to mention, you are very curious as to the details of this emergency meeting; perhaps it was about food rations or the never-ending blizzard. 
You place your head against the door; a headache begins to form with all the frantic thoughts running through your head. Opening your eyes, you see the trail of snow Philip tracked into your house. Cursing him under your breath, you move to the kitchen to grab a towel to clean up the mess before it ruins your floors.  
—----
You glance at the small hand-carved clock on your wall. Seeing that it is almost time for the meeting to start, you make your way to your front door, putting on the thickest coat you own, your gloves, and winter boots. Opening the door and closing it behind you, you wrap your coat tightly around you, pulling up the collar to cover the bottom half of your face as you venture down the snow-covered stone path that leads throughout the village. You see your neighbors already making their way inside the church. Two men stand outside wrapped in thick fur jackets and hats, each holding lanterns to signal the start of the meeting. You trudge through the thick snow, carefully walking up the ice-covered steps to the entrance. The two men, who you now recognize as Simon and Johnny, the town’s butchers, open the massive doors. You mumble a quick thank you to the men and make your way inside the warm church. 
Looking around the massive sanctuary, a long line of lit candles operas on either side of the pews gives the room an almost eerie glow. You realize you are one of the last villagers to arrive, seeing as most of the pews are already filled to the brim with people waiting for the meeting to start; whispers could be heard throughout the room, filled with hateful gossip about one another. You decide to sit in the back, where there is still a little bit of space left, sitting in one of the only empty spots left.
You take off your thick jacket and hang it on the back of the pew you were sitting on, and continue looking around the room. At the front of the pulpit stands Philip Graves, talking in hushed tones to the village leader, Shepherd. They look to be arguing, judging by the looks on their faces. Philip turns his head, looking near the door; when he makes eye contact with you, he turns back to Shepherd, whispering in his ear, a sinister grin appearing on their faces.
The front doors slamming closed behind you cause you to jump a bit. You turn around in your seat to see Johnny and Simon standing inside the church, placing the lanterns on the golden hooks on either side of the doors. They move to stand behind the pew you are sitting on, making you feel uncomfortable, but before you can ask them about it. A throat clearing causes you to turn your attention back to the front of the church, where Shepherd now stands behind the podium with Philip by his side.
“Thank you all so much for joining us today for this emergency meeting. We know that things have been tough recently for us all. But fear not; we have come up with a solution that will surely save us all from this torment.” 
Everyone perks up at the news, excited at the thought of ending their suffering. For some reason, you feel a sense of dread overcome by this news. Something about this whole situation does not sit right with you. Something in your gut telling you that nothing good is going to come out of this meeting.  
“Now, I know you all must be wondering as to what the solution to our problem is. Philip and I have found who is responsible for our suffering it is none other than the demon Krampus. He must be growing bored with punishing children and is looking to torture the innocent people of this village.” 
Gasps echo around the room; Shepherd raises his hand up to silence the murmuring, “To appease his wrath, we must give him an offering; then I am certain we will be saved.” 
Your heart starts to pound in your chest, an offering? What could anyone in the village possibly possess that would be good enough to use as an offering to a demon to appease them? Shepherd locks eyes with you, “I know what you all must be thinking: we have no material possessions good enough for such a beast. We will give the demon a human sacrifice!” 
The room suddenly becomes too hot, sweat beads down your face. Johnny and Simon come up behind you and pull you out of your seat. They begin dragging you, kicking and screaming, to the front of the church. You try to pull your arms from their grip, but is it no use, kicking your feet, trying anything to free yourself. Tears flow freely from your eyes. You look around at the people of your village, pleading with them, hoping that someone, anyone, will help you, but they just all sit there watching, doing nothing. Reaching the front of the church, Philip grabs you from the grip of the two butchers, placing a rough hand over your mouth to silence your yelling. 
Your back is pressed against Philips's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you, keeping you in place; you struggle in his grip, causing him to tighten his grip on you. His grip bruises your arms, but you refuse to give up. Ignoring your efforts, he says, “Tomorrow, everything will be back to normal once the demon has his offering! Return to your homes and await the glorious rewards that will be gifted upon us all!” He yells out, his chest rumbling against your back. 
As you watch, everyone slowly rise from their seats and make their way toward the entrance of the church, leaving you to your demise. You bite the hand covering your mouth as you let out more screams for help, “Please don’t do this, there must be another way!!” you yell out desperation clear in your voice,  but all you get in return is a slap across the face from Philip. 
“Bitch just bite me, hand me the gag. I can’t stand to hear any more of this pathetic screaming.” Simon reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gag before harshly shoving the cloth in your mouth and tying it around your head. 
Once the door slams, such as the last of the villagers returning safely to their homes, Shepherd grabs a rope from his pocket and stands in front of you, “Ah, fear not. Think about the good your sacrifice will bring to the people of this village, all the lives you will save.” He pulls your wrists together in front of you and binds them tightly together, the rough rope digging into your skin.
Philip unwraps his arms around you and grabs the rope around your wrist, dragging you towards the front doors of the church, the rope squeezing your wrists, causing you to let out a pained gasp that is muffled by the cloth in your mouth. What was about to happen to you setting in, causing you to dig your feet into the carpet of the church trying to free yourself. Tears flow down your face, muffled screaming, as you try desperately to escape. 
“Alright, I can’t deal with this the whole way to the forest. We got to do something,” says Philip, annoyed by your constant struggle. 
Johnny walks back to the podium and pulls out more rope; he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, handing the rope to Simon, “Tie their feet together. It will probably just be easier to carry them.” 
Simon takes the rope from Johnny, grabs both of your kicking feet and ties them together as tight as he can, making it more difficult for you to free yourself.
With you bound tightly over Johnny's shoulder, the group makes its way to the front of the church. Simon and Johnny retrieve their lanterns from where they had been left earlier. The heavy church doors open, and they begin their journey toward your death, the flickering flames casting long, eerie shadows in the snow. Your muffled screams echo through the village. Through blurred, tear-filled eyes, you catch glimpses of people watching from behind their windows, doing nothing to help you. 
—-
They have been carrying you farther and further into the forest, walking for what seems like hours. The light from the moon can be seen through the trees; the only source of light for miles is the lanterns. Your throat is sore from all the screaming, and you're pretty sure your wrists and ankles are now bleeding due to the rope rubbing against your skin from your flailing around. As you all reach a clearing in the middle of the forest where only a single twisted tree stands in the darkness, everyone stops walking; Johnny throws your body on the ground, the harsh impact knocking the breath from your lungs. 
Philip yanks you up from the rope around your wrist, dragging you through the snow towards the tree, the fear flooding your body, giving you a new rush of adrenaline, trying to dig your feet into the ground but with your ankles tied together, making it near impossible. Shepherd is already standing underneath the lowest hanging branch of the tree, holding one end of a rope that has been tied around the branch. They tie the rope through the rope on your wrists, hoisting your arms above your head until your arms are straining and your toes are barely scraping the ground. You let out muffled groans of pain and cursing them as best you could.
All four men are standing in front of you; no sympathy for what they are doing to you can be seen on their faces. Shepherd gives one last look at your body hanging from the tree, “This is where we leave you. Thank you for your sacrifice.” he says smugly before turning with the others and leaving you to your death.
  As you watch them all walk away, the light from the lanterns slowly fades away until you can no longer see it, leaving you in the dark forest alone. You begin to try to free yourself from the tree. Tears run down your face and neck. You try and scream to the best of your ability, but the cloth in your mouth muffles your shouts. Flailing around, trying to somehow untie the ropes on your wrists, all you end up accomplishing is tightening the knots, burying the rope farther into your skin, and blood from the open wounds on your wrists running down your arms. 
Your body quickly runs out of energy from your constant struggle, crying, screaming, and the cold. You begin to feel tired, struggling to keep your eyes open, thinking to yourself that you really don’t want to die, especially not for the people of the town who did nothing to help you; they all just watched. Until, from the darkness, you begin to hear the distant sound of bells jingling closer and closer. Looking all around you in the darkness, you see the glow of a lantern with an outline of a huge figure. You automatically think it is probably someone who is out hunting, so you begin screaming as loudly as you can through the gag, trying to gain their attention. The figure pauses walking, turning towards the sound of your screams, and begins walking in your direction.
 A huge figure emerges from the trees, standing nearly seven feet tall with twisted horns protruding from the mask peeking out from under the hood, his eyes shining through the darkness, the mouth carved onto the front of the mask was open with sharp teeth and a long red serpent-looking tongue, underneath the dark red hood covering his face and body. With every step it draws closer to you, you catch small glimpses of the jingling of bells hanging on a chain wrapped around his torso from underneath the red cloak glimmering in the light from the lantern. 
Frozen in fear at the person walking towards you but still in the back of your head, you are hoping that they will set you free. He stops right in front of where you are hanging from the tree, even dangling in the air, the top of your head barely level with his chin. The soft glow from the lantern gives off an eerie glow to whoever is standing in front of you. You swear that you can see his eyes staring right through you. You let out a muffled “help.” 
“Warum bist du hier draußen?” The demon in front of you utters, reaching for the gag tied around your head. He pulls the fabric out of your mouth, letting it hang around your neck.
Your voice hoarse from all the hours you spent screaming for help, you manage to croak out a gasped, “What?” 
He eyes you curiously, looking at your bound hands and feet. He reaches inside the large red cloak and pulls out a sharp hunting knife. Wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you from falling to the ground. He cut the rope around your wrists, your numb arms falling limply to your sides. Lowering you to sit on the snowy ground, he moves down to the rope around your ankles, cutting the rope. You rub your wrist, trying to bring feeling back into your body, the blood flowing through your arms causing a tingling sensation. 
Still crouched down in front of you, he places the hunting knife back inside his cloak and pulls out a small water skin, holding it out for you to take. You eye him cautiously before grabbing the water skin and taking big gulps of water, the cool water soothing your raw throat. As you hand him back the half-empty water, he says,  “Now, let's try this again, ja. Why are you out here?”
Sniffling due to the cold, anger courses through your body at the memories of the past few hours. You hiss. “They said I was supposed to be some kind of offering to save the village from Krampus’s wrath. They tied me up and dragged me out here against my will.” You take a deep breath, pulling your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them before continuing your voice much softer this time, “No one even bothered to help me. I was screaming at them, but they wouldn’t listen.” 
The man in front of you lets out a hum, “I have no need for an innocent sacrifice. Where do people get these silly little ideas from.” he says, scoffing and shaking his head in disbelief. 
You squint your eyes at him, looking him up and down from the way he is sitting in front of you, causes his cloak to open a bit and allowing you to see the chains wrapped around his torso more clearly. On the chains are the little golden bells engraved with small intricate designs. You can barely make out the cursive ‘Krampus’ written across them. Come to think of it, his cloak, mask, the bells remind you of the description of Krampus from the old stories people in your village used to tell children to keep them from misbehaving or else the demon would arrive and punish them. You look up into his eyes, and seeing him already staring at you, you ask, “You are Krampus?” 
“That’s me. Though you can call me Konig.” He stands up to his full height, holding his gloved hand out for you to grab, “come, let’s go.” 
Taking his hand, allowing yourself to be pulled to your feet, swaying slightly due to the feeling not completely coming back to your legs. “Where are we going?” you ask, tilting your head back to look at him. Still holding his hand, following him deeper into the forest.
He looks down at you, his voice dripping with disdain as if the answer should be obvious. "Back to your village."
"My village? Why?"
Konig stops in his tracks, turning to face you fully. His eyes rake over your face, a calculating look in his eyes. "I am Krampus. I punish those who are bad."
You furrow your brows in confusion. Is he really suggesting that he's going to punish your village for you? And what does he mean by "punish"? Scare them? Or… something worse?
His gaze lingers, reading the flurry of thoughts playing out behind your eyes. After a moment, he adds, his voice low and heavy with dark promise, "I assumed you'd want revenge. It is your choice. After all, you are the one they wronged. Though I should probably warn you, many will not survive."
The memories of your village’s betrayal flood back—how they ignored your pleas for mercy, how they bound you and left you to die in the forest. It is no longer the same village you grew up in. You nod in a slow, deliberate motion. "I want revenge."
Even with the mask hiding his face, you can see the faintest crinkle at the edges of his eyes, a wicked gleam catching the faint light. He lets out a low chuckle, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Let’s go then," he murmurs, continuing walking. "It’s been a long time since I let my elves have any real fun."
—--
You stand at the outskirts of your village with Konig, his elves circling the perimeter, waiting for him to give the word. The streets are empty; everyone is already in their houses, settling in for the night. Rage courses through your veins at the thought that while they left you to freeze to death hanging from a tree, they were all snuggled up safe and sound in their beds without a care in the world. 
Konig’s elves were dressed similarly to him, standing tall in the darkness, though none of them were as tall as Konig. They wore terrifying masks with twisted and crooked horns protruding from their foreheads demonic-looking faces carved into the wood of their masks. Their gloved hands gripped jagged tools that clinked along with the bells wrapped around them as they moved. The air around the village seemed to thrum with a dark, malevolent energy.
Konig places a hand on your shoulder, “Stay with me. I do not want you to get hurt.” You nod your head in response, grabbing a hold of the chain around his torso, which is now on full display. His cloak sits wrapped around your shoulders to protect you from the harsh weather. 
“Hinterlasse keine Überlebenden.” His thick accent echoing in the darkness. The elves take off their maniacal laughs and pounding footsteps, announcing the chaos that was about to ensue.  
He trails behind them, you in tow, gripping tightly onto the chain wrapped around his torso, struggling to keep pace with his long strides as he makes a beeline straight toward the church where all of this began.
Screams pierce the stillness of the night as the elves burst into homes, ripping people from their beds. Some set fire to houses, others destroy everything in sight, their chaos unquenchable. Simon stumbles out of his front door, drenched in blood, not making it very far before an elf hurls a bola at his feet. The cord wraps tightly around his ankles, sending him crashing face-first into the snow.
When Simon sees you walking alongside Konig, he tries crawling toward you, desperation in his voice. “Please! Help us! We’re being attacked!” 
You don’t even spare him a glance as you keep walking, your pace steady as Konig leads the way. Behind you, you hear the sound of the elf dragging Simon away back into the madness. No one had come to your rescue when you screamed and begged for mercy. No one here will get any sympathy from you. They deserve this.
You both reach the church and with a single, powerful kick, Konig sends the locked doors crashing to the ground, causing some of the candles near the door to extinguish the smoke traveling to the ceiling. The wood splinters violently under the sheer force of his strength. He enters the church, ducking to clear the doorframe. His gaze sharpens as he spots Philip and Shepherd huddled in fear before the pulpit.
Konig rolls his shoulders back, making himself seem more menacing and threatening as he approaches them, his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the church. With every step, the bells make a small chime. Each jingle is a reminder of their impending doom. Shepherd and Philip stand unmoving as Krampus now stands before them, towering over their trembling forms. 
He stands tall, the shadow created from the lit candles throughout the room, causing him to look more and more like a demon, but you are not scared, knowing that you are not the one receiving his anger. His eyes glow with a burning hatred and promises of pain. You let go of the chain around his torso, moving to stand beside Konig, wanting to see them suffer as they made you suffer.
Shepherd tries to appear unfazed, staring Konig right in the eyes. “What is the meaning of this? We gave you a sacrifice to save us, not kill us all!” he says, raising his voice at the end and pointing a finger toward you. Both men gave you disgusted looks as if it was your fault that all of this was happening to them.
“You thought sacrificing someone who has done no wrong would put an end to your suffering?” Konig growls, his accent thick, “I am the one who brings retribution to the wicked.” 
With a flick of his wrist, using his dark magic, a rope slithers down from the rafters of the church, wrapping itself around Philip’s and Shepherd’s wrists and hauling them up until they were dangling in the air much like how you were when Konig found you. They let out groans of pain, trying to free themselves from the rope, but the more they continued to struggle, the tighter the rope wrapped around their wrists.
Konig rips one of the bells from the chain, a sinister glow now emitting from the bell, the intricate details now shining a dark red. He tosses the bell on the ground at the men’s hanging feet. As soon as the bell makes contact with the floor, the ground begins to shake and split open, revealing a deep, fiery pit. 
They both look down, seeing the entrance to hell open up beneath them, causing Shepherd to frantically try and plead with Konig to let them go, “Please, let us go. We are sorry, don’t do this.”
Philip looks at you, screaming profanities at you, “This is all your fucking fault, bitch. Stop him! Set us free!” 
Tired of hearing their useless pleading, Konig waves his hand, and a gag appears over their mouths, muffling their angry shouts. Konig turns to you, his eyes softening, reaching his hand again for you to take, “do you still wish to do this?” 
Placing your hand in his and moving closer to lean into his side, you look up at his masked face, “do it.” you whisper. 
Konig looks back to where the two men hang from the ceiling, both of their wrists bleeding from where the ropes have become embedded into their skin from their constant struggle. "You failed to show mercy," Konig growls, his voice low and guttural. "Now you shall receive none."
The rope snaps, causing both men to fall into the fiery pit, screaming, descending into what you can only assume is hell, both of their souls destined to be tortured forever. The light from the pit begins to dim until all that’s left is a deep hole in the ground with a single bell in the middle of the pit. 
The village is silent once more. There is no more screaming coming from outside the church. Following Konig back out into the snow, you see your once beautiful village in ruins, homes burnt to the ground, and everything destroyed, but you don’t feel any sadness or regret for what happened here. The elves are now nowhere in sight. If it weren’t for the damage, you would have never even known they were here in the first place. 
 You walk hand in hand with Konig back into the forest, a sense of relief falling over you. The people of this village tried to sacrifice you for their own survival, not caring about you at all, but in the end, you got your revenge.
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dystopicjumpsuit · 21 days ago
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Hi, if you're still doing cuddle prompts, could I request Mayday with hugging from behind?
If you want to, and have time, no pressure.
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Life Day Comes but Once Each Year... but Mayday Doesn't
A/N: Happy Krampusnacht, Nika! My deepest apologies for the long delay on this fic, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. You can blame @cloned-eyes for my clone!Krampus obsession. Their Krampus Bad Batch art has been living rent-free in my head for a year, and I am definitely on the naughty list. Thanks for that.
Pairing: Krampus!Mayday x Reader (fem; has hair)
Rating: M (mature content intended for readers 18+; minors DNI)
Wordcount: 2.7k
Warnings and tags: established relationship but it’s complicated; fluff; domesticity; SMUT with the tiniest scrap of plot to explain how TF Mayday ended up as Krampus; allusions to spanking/flogging; monsterfucking but make it tender because it’s Mayday; oral sex; fingering; PIV; creampie; body worship; more fluff; crack treated seriously; Mayday wants to wife you up because it is literally impossible for me not to see this man as husband material; mention of wanting children; if horns not for grabbing, why handle-shaped? 
Summary: He’s a monstrous immortal who has carried out the duties of Krampus across the galaxy for a millennium. But for one night each year, just before Life Day, he’s yours.
Suggested Listening:
This fic smells like: Apres by Ellis Brooklyn (evergreen trees, snow-capped mountains, bourbon on a cold night)
Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list
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The cabin was dark, save for the soft, warm glow cast by the lights of the Life Day tree and the flickering illumination of the fire that blazed in the wood stove. Outside, the wind howled with menace as the snow whirled in a blinding flurry, but the cabin was sturdy, and the winter storm battered fruitlessly against the walls. 
On the caf table sat two empty schnapps glasses and a half-finished puzzle, abandoned with its incomplete pieces scattered across the tabletop and the floor around it. The Life Day album you’d been playing had long since ended, and now the only sounds in your living room were the faint crackle of the fire, the muffled roar of the wind, and the quiet ticking of your cuckoo chronometer.
The scene was disgustingly wholesome, considering the decidedly unwholesome activities that had occurred on top of that very caf table not much earlier, but you were too drowsy and comfortable to care. You were curled up across Mayday’s lap, with your head tucked into the crook of his neck and your hand resting flat against his chest, just over his heart. You could feel the beat of it, steady and warm beneath your palm, and for a moment, you closed your eyes, just to listen to the sound of his breathing.
“Tired, love?” he asked, pressing his lips to the top of your head. His fingers trailed over your shoulder, down your bare arm to your elbow, and back up, again and again, in a hypnotic rhythm.
“Hm-mmm,” you lied. “Wide awake.”
His quiet chuckle ruffled the fine hairs at your hairline. “You know liars go on the naughty list.” 
You smiled and tilted your face up to kiss his cheek, brushing your fingertips along the curling length of one of his horns. “I’m pretty sure at least half of the things we did earlier were enough to land me on the naughty list in perpetuity.”
“A permanent fixture,” he agreed. His solemn tone was belied by the smile that faintly creased the corners of his dark eyes that glimmered red in the dim light. “I have a special place on it, just for you.”
“I hope it’s at the top.”
“Is that where you want to be?” He grazed the tip of his nose down your cheek and then bit your lip softly.
“On top, underneath, on the floor, on my knees—anywhere you want.”
“Careful, darlin’. That kind of talk will get you in trouble.”
“Oh, no, I would absolutely hate it if you felt the need to punish me with those birch rods of yours,” you murmured.
He chuckled quietly as his hand stole up your thigh to massage over the fading red marks and gently squeeze your ass. “Did you not get enough earlier?”
His hands slid languidly up your body, gathering up your oversized knit sweater and pushing it up and over your head, leaving you completely nude.
“You know, there’s a snowstorm out there,” you teased. “I’m going to get hypothermia.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you warm.” His lips trailed down your throat as he leaned you back against the small mountain of throw pillows and began to kiss his way down your body. “Your sofa is much more comfortable than your caf table. We should have done this earlier. Take pity on an old man’s knees.”
“I wasn’t aware that immortal, mythical beings had joint problems—Oh, that’s nice, keep doing that.”
“With pleasure.”
He draped one of your legs over your shoulder, and the other he pinned between his body and the back of the sofa. He gripped your hips, holding you in place while he took you apart with meticulous thoroughness. Your fingers tunneled through his shaggy hair and then wrapped around his curling horns, shamelessly using them for leverage as you guided his head exactly where you needed him. 
“Just like that,” he murmured, his voice vibrating over your flesh, driving every thought from your mind as his lips moved softly against your cunt and his forked tongue swirled over and wrapped around your clit. “Do that again. Show me how you want me.”
His long tongue slid deeper, caressing insistently inside your body, focusing on the places he knew so well and working you with agonizing precision. Your hips twitched up off the couch, moving without your permission as you let out a sudden gasp. His strong hands tightened around you and pressed you back down.
“Liked that, did you?” 
His tongue slid back inside, repeating the exact motion until you were shaking and whimpering beneath him, desperate and balancing on the knife edge of pleasure.
And then he withdrew, the monster.
You swallowed a choked sound of protest and suppressed the urge to grab his horns and press him back down. He smiled wickedly up at you and licked his lips.
“I could feast on you all night, love,” he said.
Then why the kriff did you stop?! You wanted to scream, but you knew it would just make him more determined to draw out your torment.
“I’d let you,” you replied breathlessly, hoping that he’d take the karking hint and put that lovely tongue back to work.
No such luck. He dropped his head back down, but instead of going where you wanted him, he pressed a kiss just above your pussy, then another, a little higher, and another, higher still, until he had kissed a trail halfway up your abdomen. He buried his face against your belly, using you as a pillow, and you were just beginning to wonder exactly what the punishment would be for murdering your teasing godsdammned Krampus lover, when he spoke.
“I missed you this year.” His quiet, surprisingly vulnerable words melted away your irritation like snow in spring.
“I missed you, too.”
He tilted his head to look up at you with soft eyes. “What did you miss?”
“Your extremely long tongue,” you quipped, determined to keep things casual despite brushing painfully close to confessing the decidedly uncasual nature of your feelings for him. 
He laughed. “Anything else?”
“Your extremely thick—Oh!” Your words were cut off by your own gasp as he slid one of his big fingers into your cunt.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you.”
You would have levitated off the couch if he hadn’t been holding you down. As it was, you let out a sound that would have been embarrassing if you’d been cogent enough for it to register. Instead, you writhed and whimpered, and when he slid a second finger in next to the first, it was all over for you. The orgasm he’d teased you with crashed into you, and your body thrashed beneath him as you cried out hoarsely. 
“There it is,” he growled. “There’s that beautiful sound I’ve been dreaming about all year.”
He watched you with voracious eyes, a subtle glimmer of red flashing in their depths as his clever fingers wrang every last drop of pleasure from your body, drawing out your climax until you felt as though your entire body was unraveling. Knelt between your thighs, with a sinful grin that flashed his sharp canines, he looked like the devil himself, come to steal your soul away.
Except he wasn’t satisfied with only your soul. He wanted all of you: heart, body, and mind, and damn him to the seven hells, because you’d given them all to him.
The sofa creaked under his shifting weight as he began to crawl up your body, still working his fingers inside you, his lips and tongue grazing softly over every curve, every freckle, every centimeter of your smooth, warm skin. 
“My sweet, perfect little one,” he murmured, withdrawing his fingers at last as he settled between your thighs.
It had been strange at first, all those years ago, to feel the thick, warm fur of his thighs when he moved inside you. You had long since grown accustomed to it, and you sighed luxuriously as he pressed into you. His hand glided down your thigh to wrap it around his hip, and suddenly, he paused.
“What’s this?”
He pulled his hand away and held up a puzzle piece he’d found stuck to your leg.
“That was definitely your fault,” you laughed.
“Guilty as charged.” He tossed the puzzle piece over his shoulder and captured your hand instead, drawing it up over your head and interlacing your fingers with his own as he held it in place. 
“Kriff, you’re so fucking tight,” he panted, his breath hot against your throat as he tucked his face against your shoulder, kissing and softly biting, careful not to break the skin but letting you feel the sharp points of his teeth nonetheless. “Your pussy is magic. You feel incredible. I missed you so much—I missed this.”
Your legs twined around his waist; your free hand tangled in his hair and then glided down the back of his neck to hold him close.
“Kiss me,” you said, and he did, without hesitation. 
His tongue swept between your lips, and you could taste the wild, heady flavor of your own body in his kiss. He began to move, setting a languid pace but thrusting hard. 
“Gonna fuck you so deep you’ll never forget me,” he whispered.
As if you could ever forget him when you felt him in every beat of your heart, every breath of your lungs, every pulse of blood in your veins. He owned you without ever staking a claim. He owned you, and he didn’t even know it.
“Yes,” you breathed. “Make me feel you for days.”
He took his time, savoring you as if every tick of the chronometer didn’t steal away another second of your dwindling moments with him. But he knew what he wanted, and he pursued it relentlessly, refusing to take his own pleasure until he’d built you inexorably to another climax. Only when he felt you clench around him and cry out his name did he finally let go. He pounded into you hard and fast, gripping your hip in one massive hand to hold you in place until at last he came with a silent snarl, flooding you with molten heat.
He collapsed onto you. You reveled in his weight and warmth, burying your face against him and inhaling his scent as if you could brand it on your memory. After a moment, he shifted off of you. He tucked you against the back of the sofa and stretched alongside you, resting his forehead against yours as he wrapped you in his arms.
“Magic, huh?” you murmured with a tiny smile.
“Magic,” he repeated. 
He tugged the throw blanket from its crumpled heap on the floor and settled it over the pair of you, and within seconds, you were asleep.
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The cabin was cold when you woke, and Mayday built the fire back up while you brewed a pot of caf. It had been little more than a power nap, but still, you felt a pang of regret that you’d wasted even that much of your limited time with him in sleep. You could sleep after he left, after all. You would have a whole year to sleep.
You stood by the window, hands wrapped around your mug of hot, fragrant caf, silently observing the scene outside. The storm had exhausted itself overnight, and the resulting thick blanket of fresh snow was perfectly, eerily peaceful. It was dark yet, but the pale light of dawn had begun to outline the mountains in a narrow strip of gold.
“Sun is coming up,” you murmured. “You’ll need to leave soon.”
He came to stand behind you, slipping his hands around your waist and wrapping you in his arms as he pulled you back against his chest and rested his chin on your shoulder. “I don’t want to go.”
“I don’t want you to, either,” you confessed.
“Maybe I should stick around.”
Your heart panged, and it actually stung that he would even joke about something like that, but you refused to taint the last few moments you had with him this Life Day by getting weepy, or gods forbid, begging him to stay.
“How would that work? Considering you’re, you know…”
“An ageless, unkillable monster tasked with punishing evildoers each year before Life Day,” he supplied helpfully. “Or as I prefer to think of it, enforcing the naughty list.”
“Yeah, that.”
Your wry tone pulled a reluctant laugh from him, and he tightened his arms more securely around your body, pulling you close. “Because it’s the final year of my contract.” 
“Contract?”
“I died,” he explained quietly. “A long time ago, on a planet far, far away. In the bitter winter, under the pitiless gaze of a man who saw me as less than nothing.”
You sucked in a sharp breath, tamping down your rage at this unknown man, knowing that right now, he needed your understanding, not your righteous indignation. “What happened?”
“The Force saw it differently. I was offered a chance. An opportunity for another life.”
“And the catch was…” You reached up behind you to trace your fingertips along the curve of one of his horns. “... this?”
He nodded. “One thousand years of service.”
One thousand years. Gods.
“Was it worth it?”
He huffed softly, and his hand flattened against your belly and slid up your rib cage until it rested just below your breast. “Ten years ago, I would have said no. Ten years ago, I would have said it was a cosmic kriffin’ joke.”
“Ten years?” you whispered. “That was—”
“When I met you,” he finished. “Ten years is nothing to me. I was so close to the end of my contract that I could taste my freedom. But ten years is a hell of a long time for a mortal. I knew there was no way I could ask you to wait for a creature like me—someone you only saw once a year.”
You rested your palm over his hand and then lifted it to your lips to press a kiss against his wrist. “Good thing you didn’t have to ask.”
His hand curled around the side of your head, and he turned his head to kiss your temple. “I want to marry you.”
Your heart stuttered to a halt before giving a violent thump. “... What?”
 “I knew from the first time I saw you.”
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you demanded.
“I never propose before the tenth date.”
“That’s not funny!” you exclaimed.
“They can’t all be zingers.”
“Be serious, Mayday.”
“I am serious,” he said softly. “I want you to be my wife. I want to wake up next to you every morning, instead of alone in an empty bed. I want you to be the mother of my little hellspawn babies.”
You snorted, and he smiled, pressing one last kiss to the side of your head. For a moment, you allowed yourself the indulgence of imagining a future of this: waking up with him, having these moments of quiet intimacy every day, instead of squeezing as many as possible into a single day each year. It was a lovely fantasy, but your pragmatic mind refused to let you dwell on it for long before logic started poking holes in the idea.
“But you’re immortal,” you protested, “and I’ll be gone in a blink of your eyes.”
“Not after this Life Day,” he replied. “Once my service is done, I’ll age like any other human.”
“But you’ll keep the horns, right?” you blurted out before you could stop the words.
He smirked. “I think that could be arranged.”
“And really, we’ve only known each other for ten days.”
“I’ve thought about you every single moment in between. I’ve crossed the galaxy more times than I care to count, and I have seen more things than you can possibly imagine. And in all my long life, I have never seen anyone more perfect for me. I was never meant to find anyone, but I found you, and I can’t imagine letting you go.”
Oh, that’s just… That’s just playing dirty. Damn him and his silver tongue. His lovely, long, forked—FOCUS! This isn’t the time to be making decisions with your ovaries!
“You’re just bewitched by my magic pussy.”
That startled a laugh out of him, and he tilted your jaw up for a kiss. “Stop talking like a degenerate and say you’ll marry me.”
“Fine. But if baby Krampuses come out with horns, we’re getting a divorce.”
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If you haven’t seen @/cloned-eyes Krampus Bad Batch art, you need to. Wrecker, Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, Echo, Wolffe.
More Mayday: Fluff and spice.
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@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream
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@burningnerdchild @saneabandoned @heidnspeak @maniacalbooper @rebell-ious
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monster-disaster · 2 days ago
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[krampus] Michael 1/3
krampus!Michael x human!Reader Good to know: a bit mean Michael, a bit crying Reader but nothing too serious
Summary: You want to ask your neighbor a favor but it doesn't go well.
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You shouldn't do this. It's a bad idea. Maybe even insensitive, too. Probably. But despite your inner battle, you still find yourself knocking on your neighbor's door, a small, hopeful part of you wishing he wouldn't answer. Maybe it would be better if he wouldn't answer. You could go back to your apartment as if nothing happened. After all, he might not even be home. You could still slip away unnoticed. Yeah, best to just-
A faint clink of keys jangling filters through the door, followed by the sound of a lock turning. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you nearly turn to leave, but then the door swings open. He leans against the doorway, arms crossed in front of him. He is dressed in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, hanging low on his lean hips, and his bare chest is right at your eye level, all tight muscle and fur. You can see the slight rise and fall of his breathing, a steady rhythm that draws your gaze up to his face. He raises an eyebrow, his gaze curious, almost amused, as he waits for you to say something.
"Hey," you smile up at him, trying to keep your voice steady.
"Hey," Michael replies, tilting his head slightly as a playful smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Can I help you with something?"
Heat spreads up your cheeks, and you swallow, nodding. "Yes," you say, licking your lips nervously. "And, um… you can totally say no," you add in a rush, wanting to soften the blow of your unusual request. "But, well… there's this holiday program at the mall for the kids. A Christmas event."
You watch his golden eyes narrow slightly, suspicion flickering in their depths as he raises an eyebrow. "And?" he asks slowly as if he already knows where this is going, and he isn’t sure he likes it.
"And… we lost an elf today," you say, cringing a little as the words leave your mouth.
His thick brow arches even higher. "Lost?" he repeats.
You shake your head quickly. "Got sick," you clarify. "So, we’re in desperate need of someone to, um… step in as her replacement."
The male's gaze sweeps over you as if weighing whether you're actually serious. "Let me get this straight," he says, his tone laced with skepticism. "You want me to be an elf?"
You let out a soft scoff, trying to play it cool, though the heat creeping up your face tells a different story. "No," you reply, attempting to sound casual. "Of course not."
"You want me to be the Krampus," he states, not asking but knowing. He’s already put it all together.
You nod, swallowing, and manage a barely audible, "Yes."
"You want a krampus to play the Krampus at your little Christmas event so all the kids can run screaming to their parents and Santa?" His voice is firm and steady, his gaze heavy and unyielding as it rests on you.
You clear your throat, trying to salvage what’s left of your request, but his intense gaze makes it nearly impossible to keep a straight face. "Well," you begin, forcing a lightness into your tone, "kids cry over everything anyway."
"You know it's a bit offensive, right?" he asks with a hint of reproach as he straightens to his full height. His chestnut-brown fur catches the warm glow from his apartment. The sight is both mesmerizing and, admittedly, a bit intimidating. "You know how many kids started crying from seeing me just today?"
You are not exactly sure what pushes you over the edge. Maybe it’s his voice, firm and edged with a hint of irritation. Or maybe it's the way he towers over you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his tall frame casting a shadow over you that makes you feel small and cornered. Then there’s the sight of his horns, long and formidable, curling back before angling upwards toward the ceiling. Or perhaps it’s the subtle snarl twisting his lips, his fangs just barely visible as he speaks. You can't be sure what it is exactly, but after weeks of long hours spent at the mall, surrounded by crying kids and endlessly unsatisfied parents, you feel something inside you start to unravel. It’s the exhaustion catching up to you, the weight of it all pressing down so hard that you can barely hold it together. Your throat tightens, and before you can stop it, you feel the sting behind your eyes. The first tear slips free, hot and fast, and suddenly, you can’t stop them. They fall in quick succession, betraying you before you have a chance to look away or try to fix yourself.
Michael’s posture shifts immediately, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he takes in the sight of you, but before he can say anything to make it better or worse, you feel the words spill out of you uncontrollably. “God, I know it’s a stupid request,” you snap at him shakily. “I know it’s insensitive, alright? I know! I’m not an idiot, I get it. I’ve spent weeks at that goddamn mall with kids crying over every little thing, parents complaining about everything. And don't even let me start with that stupid elf costume I have to wear every day! And I just… I just thought, maybe, just maybe, if you helped, it would make it less awful for a second. But I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t think you’d actually-” You take a breath, forcing yourself to steady your words. “You didn’t have to make it worse. If you’d just said no, that would’ve been enough. I didn’t need- I didn’t need you to make me feel even worse.” Your voice wavers slightly as you continue, the tears starting to slow, but the frustration still raw. "I don’t need anyone else making it harder, Michael." You shake your head, wiping your eyes to get rid of the salty wetness that probably smudged your makeup all over your flushed face.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, you let the silence fall between you for a long, tense second. The words have left you, but the weight of them still lingers.
After what feels like an eternity, you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Thank you, anyway," you grunt, forcing the words out, though they feel hollow.
Without waiting for a response, without even giving him another glance, you turn on your heel and rush back to the safety of your apartment. The sound of your feet pounding against the floor echoes in your ears, but you don’t dare look back. Not even once. You don’t see the way Michael stands there, his eyes following your retreating form, and you don’t see his friend joining him at the door, patting the krampus on the shoulder with a sarcastic hum under his breath, “Well, you really make everyone cry, don’t you?”
_ You can read the other two parts (I will post them on Dec. 24 and 25) on my Patreon where I post a story every day this month.
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the-froschamethyst4 · 15 days ago
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Krampus x Mrs.Claus
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Krampus! Barrage x Mrs.Claus! Reader Headcannons
SFW & NSFW
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SFW
Krampus! Barrage who met Mrs. Claus for the first time during her first Christmas with her husband good ol' Saint Nicolas or Nick
Mrs. Claus! Reader who knew nothing about Nick's twin brother except that he steals the souls of naughty children
Krampus! Barrage who goes to the Elves Workshop, stalking Mrs. Claus as she walks around greeting the elves, complimenting the work of the elves, and even inviting all the elves to the Christmas Party that the Claus's hold every Christmas
Mrs. Claus! Reader who invited the twin of Santa Claus to their annual Christmas Party
Krampus! Barrage who showed up the party, the other Spiritual Beings all mocking him as he walks through to talk with Mrs. Claus
"Why are you here?" His brother Nick, stepped in front of him blocking him from continuing to walk to Y/n.
"Your wife, invited me," he smirks and pushed his way through.
Mrs. Claus! Reader who was nice to Barrage the whole night while everyone else isolated, Barrage because of what he does
Krampus! Barrage who didn't understand why someone like Y/n married someone like his brother, Nick was uptight, workaholic, he only cared about his work
"Why did you marry my brother?" Barrage asked.
"Oh...because he was nice and jolly...but now."
"But?"
"He's seems more focused on his work more than anything...why does he not talk to you?" She asked him.
"Because of what I do, he takes care of the good children, I take care of the bad."
Mrs. Claus! Reader who stayed with Krampus the whole night just talking with him, of course it pissed Nick off that his wife was spending time with his brother
"Y/n," Nick called for his wife to leave Krampus alone and to come hang with him and the others.
"I guess, I have to see what my husband wants."
Krampus! Barrage who could only enjoy the party from the corner of the big home of the Claus's
Mrs. Claus! Reader who was getting pulled away from the party by her uptight husband
Krampus! Barrage who could see some trouble in paradise
"You are my wife, you know that!"
"Nick, I don't understand, why are you getting upset with me?"
"Because you invited the one person, I didn't want here-"
"He is your brother, he's family," she tells him.
"He is a soul sucking demon, I don't want him here, and I don't want you near him, do you understand? Actually...why don't you call it a night, tell the others good night and go to bed," he says.
Mrs. Claus! Reader who was upset with her husband for sending her to bed just because of she invited his brother
"I'm hearing trouble in paradise," Barrage was behind the door that led to Y/n's and Nick's bedroom, he slowly closes it and walks to her.
"You shouldn't be in here," she tells him. He walks towards her stepping into the light.
"He's mad because you were nice to me...he is right about one thing...I'm a soul sucking demon."
NSFW
Krampus! Barrage who held Y/n by her waist as she was face down in the mattress
Mrs. Claus! Reader who moaned out his name, she looks at the window next to the bed watching snow fall
Krampus! Barrage who found it funny that he is fucking his twin brother's wife in their shared bed. He loved torturing his brother.
Mrs. Claus! Reader when Barrage pulled her up to make her sit in his lap, she had instinctively started to bounce
Krampus! Barrage who slightly made her stop when hearing stomping of boots coming close to the door knowing who it was, he picks her up and takes her behind the bedroom door, he covers her mouth as he helps her still bounce on him
"Y/n?" Nick calls out, Y/n's eyes widened as she covers her mouth. "Y/n?" He calls again. Y/n then peeks her head around the corner.
"Nick," her face was red and she was holding back a some moans.
"Why aren't you in bed and...are you naked? Are you crazy?"
"I-I'm in my bedroom, n-no one should be in-in here, so I don't c-care I'm naked," she stutters out. Nick just stares and huff out.
"Just go to bed, the bastard left anyways."
Mrs. Claus! Reader who knew that Barrage didn't just leave. Once Nick left she was taken back to the bed to be pounded in some more by her husbands brother
Krampus! Barrage who didn't care this was wrong, you know who he is, he doesn't care, why would he care about his spoiled brother who got everything, now it was his turn to finally have something
Mrs. Claus! Reader who was trying to be quiet but it was hard when something that feels so wrong, yet feels so good
"This is wrong."
"What's wrong is you being married to my spoiled ass brother."
Krampus! Barrage who is just teasing Y/n at this point, denying her to cum, slightly humiliating her
"Y/n, I'm hearing a lot of noises what's going on?" Nick says on the other side of the door.
"I thought he knew everything?" Barrage asked, close to Y/n's ear and made sure he was quiet enough for Nick not to hear.
"I-I'm just t-trying to get comfortable," she whines.
Mrs. Claus! Reader who turns to face Barrage just to lean forward and kiss his lips
"You're such a naughty, naughty, woman," he teases.
"And what are you going to do about that?" She teases back.
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deanwinchestersbabygirll · 8 months ago
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Last Christmas
-warnings// a little angst, lots of fluff, mention of slicing and finger nail removal
-lil summery// basically based in season 3 episode 8 just with our favourite character... Y/N!
Dean x reader
word count// 6960
(gif from pinterest)
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"You didn't see anything at all ma'am, any flickering lights?" You asked the scared women "what would flickering lights have to do with my missing husband?!" Mrs Walsh asked frustrated "what we mean Mrs Walsh is that any detail you can recall even something as small as the lights flickering or even a strange  or unsettling smell could help us find out What exactly happened to your husband" dean swooped in behind you 
Mrs Walsh sighed sadly as she tried to go over the night "I'm sorry I don't remember anything other than my husband being dragged from bed, whoever took him knocked me out- I just I don't know what I'm gonna tell my kids I mean come on Christmas is right around the corner and they have to spend it without their dad?" She cried as her sobs shook her body
You pulled her to the side slightly to calm her "Mrs Walsh I assure you that we'll do everything we can to find out what happened to your husband, I'm so sorry this happened to you and your family" you said handing the weeping women a tissue "thank you agent page" she smiled and headed back into her home.
"Alright so doesn't seem like it was a demon, you guys have any ideas?" You asked the boys on the way to the motel "I'm not sure but I found a tooth  in the chimney so it seems that's where Mr Walsh was taken out from,  I'll start researching when we get back" Sam replied
The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence as you took in the scenery of Michigan in December, all the decorations surrounding the town of Ypsilanti.
"Alright I've looked through everything and I keep coming back to same idea" sam said "great what have you got?" You asked sitting next to him on the dingy couch "it's gonna sound crazy but-" Sam was cut off by deans loud laugh "Sammy, what do you think you could possibly say that would sound crazy to us?" You chuckled as Sam sighed a smile curling on his lips "alright… Evil Santa" 
"...alright ya got me, that's crazy" dean crossed his arms across his chest as he leaned against the wall "i don't know Dean, we hunt some crazy shit" you said turning to look at the older Winchester, he smirked moving toward the couch, taking a seat next to you and pulling you into him "I guess your right sweetheart, alright Sammy tell me what your thinking" 
You laid your head to rest on your boyfriends hard chest as you listened to Sam ramble on about his theory of krampus, Dean ran his rough hands up and down your side and pulled you closer so you were sat on his lap rather than the two small for you and two oversized Winchester men 
You felt yourself gently drifting off to the sound of deans heartbeat and the distant sound of his gruff voice "well I'm just saying what the lore says..." Sam defended as dean shut down the idea of evil Santa "dude Santa doesn't have a brother... there is no Santa" he said his hand coming to rest on the top of your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles on the warm exposed skin of your hip
"I seen a little Santa village on the way here, it's not that far why don't we go and scope it out" you sleepily suggest "good idea let's head out" Sam said moving to get up you sighed out a huff as you pulled from the warm embrace of your boyfriend, Dean wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you headed to baby "your in the back Sammy" he said as the younger Winchester went to open the passenger door, Sam sighed as you giggled jumping in and moving to sit next to dean as he pulled you close to his side, the comforting smell of pine and gunfire engulfed you immediately as the impala purred to life.
You and the boys walked through a very.. . Questionable looking Santa's village "this place sucks I thought it would have been more fun looking based on the town's decorations" you said as you looked around the crappy 'north pole' "yeah kinda makes the 'anti-Claus' theory sound more realistic doesn't it" Sam replied 
Dean clapped his hands together happily as turned to you and his brother "hey speaking of Christmas, we should have one this year" he said and you felt your body go rigged, you've been with  Dean for over 2 years and not once in those two years did he express a want to celebrate the holiday other than a few small gifts. You knew he wanted to do this because it would be his last Christmas he gets to spend you and Sam and it's tearing you apart knowing each day gets closer and closer to the end of deans year
Swallowing hard as you felt your throat grow extremely dry, before you can say anything Sam's scoffing "yeah no I'm good" Sam says and Dean continues to push "oh come on, we'll even get a little tree for the room and we can decorate it and then we can get a nice take out for dinner" "honestly I'm not really up for it either Dean" you confessed, finally gaining your voice back 
He looks at you a slight gleam of hurt on his face flashes "come on baby, it'll be fun, we can even watch home alone, I know how much you love that movie" dean said his eyes practically begging you to say yes, you give him a forced smile as you knew you had to cave, you wanted to remember these things with a happy memory with dean, even if right now your heart was breaking into a thousand pieces  "see Sammy, Y/N's in its two against one" Dean said as he wrapped his arm tightly around your waist, Sam turned his head toward you both and with a shrug of his broad shoulders "you guys do what you want I'm not doing it" he said and stalked away, "what a grinch" Dean whispered in your ear.
"You would think with how expensive this crap was to get in they'd have put on a better show" dean grumbled out as you all seen the disappointment on the kids in lines faces "I know... almost feels like our Santa here really is the anti Santa" you told him and dean nodded while Sam seemed to be in a daze. 
It was a few hours later and you and the boys were in the impala outside 'Santa's trailer waiting for him to make his move. You sat in the front next to Dean as Sam was fast asleep in the back, you'd hardly said a word to him as you stared out the window, head leaning against the cool glass as you felt his green eyes burning holes on the side of your head "everything okay?" Dean asked his voice low as to not alert his sleeping brother 
"Yeah I'm fine, just thinking..." you replied not looking at him "what are you thinking about sweetheart?" He asked gently grabbing your hand small hand in his much bigger one "just stuff, nothing to worry about honey" you told him leaning forward to give his plump lips a quick kiss in hopes to ease his worry, Dean would let it go for now but he was still worried about how different you were acting.
You started to drift off once again that day until you were startled by Sam's loud yawn " hey what time is it?" He asked stretching his longs limbs "it's one in the morning, haven't seen anything suspicious yet" dean replied his eyes fixated on the trailer door, just as he finished his sentence the 'Santa' was at the window looking around the quiet parking lot before shutting his curtains in a rush "alright it's show time!" you said jumping out of the car 
Dean ran to get to the trailer door infront of you always wanting to protect you from the darkness of the job in whatever way he can, Dean kicks the door open and the three of you have your guns drawn and aimed at the santa
"...roast my chestnut, egg my nogg" 
The tv played on in the backround as the 'Santa jumped to his feet his bong hitting couch in his hurry
You and the boys shared looks of shock before rushing to hide your guns "Silent night..." dean started off awkwardly and you and Sam quickly joined in "holy night, all is dry..." you grabbed both boys by their jackets and pushed them to the door before rushing into the car, Dean taking off quickly from the embarrassing situation.
The next morning you woke to deans arm being wrapped tightly around your waist as your head lay on his chest, your leg thrown over his hips, you tried to pull away gently as to not wake him, your small movements proved enough to wake the sleeping hunter as he gently opened his green eyes "where you going sweetheart?" He asked his voice deep and raspy from just waking up  "I'm starving so I was gonna go get us some breakfast and coffee" he hummed and pulled you back down to him "ten more minutes then we'll go" dean said kissing the top of your head
"Guys come on we gotta go there's been another attack" Sam announced as he came back into the room, Dean sighed dramatically "I'm going to end the son of a bitch for messing with my sleep" dean threatened making you giggle "alright let's get going we'll stop for something quick then go talk to the vics" you said leaning down to give your boyfriend a quick kiss to the lips before rushing to get dressed.
You sat in the back of the impala drinking your coffee as Dean drove to the Caldwells, you couldn't help but feel your heart sink deeper with each passing day as you stared at your boyfriend through the rear view mirror, Dean was already catching your eyes sending a worried smile your way at the look of your tear filled eyes that you refused to let fall, he raised his brows as to silently ask if you were okay and you nodded quickly changing your gaze to the window as the blur of Christmas decorations blurred with deans speed.
" so ma'am your son explained to you that he saw Santa take his dad up the chimney?" You questioned the sorrow filled women, she nodded holding her arms close to her body in defence motion "that’s what he told me, yes" she replied 
"And where we're you Mrs Caldwell?" Dean asked and the women gave him a strange look of confusion "I was asleep and then all of a sudden I was being dragged from my bed and then i was knocked out, It just happened so fast" she cried
You placed your hand on her arm and smiled in understanding "I understand how hard this must be Mrs Caldwell, I could never imagine the pain and confusion your feeling right now, do you need to take a little break from the questions?" You asked her and she shook her head "no I'm alright thank you detective, I just want this to all be over with so my husband is found and brought home safely to us" she smiled sadly
"Did you happen to see anything of the attacker, maybe hair colour,  height, anything strange?" Dean asked and she shook her head instantly "no I didn't see anything it was so dark and it was just a blur" 
Sam looked around as you and Dean continued to talk to her "yeah so Mrs Caldwell, do you remember where you got that wreath?" Sam asked and the women grew angry as you and Dean sent him looks of question "excuse me!" She demanded "it's just its very pretty" sam stuttered out "I don't give a rats behind about that wreath, I care about my missing husband so if we can stop with the questions and we can get on with finding him so my kids don't have to spend Christmas without their father, that would be greatly appreciated detective!" Sam nodded  "of course mrs Caldwell" 
"Of all the things to ask a grieving wife and mother, you ask about her Christmas wreath?please tell me you have a good theory that will make me forget how horrible that experience was" You asked Sam as you walked towards baby "think about it, that's not the first time we've seen that wreath here" Sam replied, "where?" Dean asked Sam intrigued "the Walshes!" You said quickly and Sam nodded "I don't think that's a coincidence considering the similarities".
Once you got back to the motel Sam quickly got on the phone with Bobby, "hey can we talk?" Dean asked grabbing your hand, you nodded and let him lead you to outside "is everything okay, since we got here you've been a little off, just like you're  shutting down" dean asked his eyes full of concern, you sighed and looked at the ground "I'm okay I'm just tired and can't wait to get this case over with" you lied but your lie detector of a boyfriend didn't buy it for a second "Y/N come on I wasn't born yesterday-" "no but your gonna be dead in a few months, then what?" You cut him off, feeling the lump in your chest grow bigger as your eyes stung with tears 
"Sweetheart I know your upset, believe me if there was any other way to bring Sammy back I would have done it, I love you more than anything and I promise I won't stop looking for a way out of this stupid deal" dean told you wiping the small tear that escaped down your check "it's just so hard knowing our time with you is limited, this is gonna be our last Christmas we can spend together, I just I- I don't know what I'm gonna do without you" you said fully breaking down at this point
Dean pulled you tightly to his chest, hugging you as you cried "I know it sucks baby, I know we never really did anything for Christmas before that's why I wanted to make this a good one so it could be thought back on as a happy memory of us three together" dean confessed as his own voice broke slightly "if I can't get out of this deal, I need you to promise me something... I want you to get out of this life, I want you to move on find someone that makes you happy, I want you to get married and have kids, I want you to have the apple pie life sweetheart because you deserve to be happy" dean said and you pulled back from his tight embrace to look at him, seeing he had a few tears of his own running down his checks
"Dean I can't, I could never be happy with any one other than you, you're the love of my life" you told him, he gave you sad smile "your the love of my life too sweetheart which is why I need to know your gonna be okay if I'm gone, please just promise me this... please" he begged, you nodded knowing you would never follow through, you would never love any one after Dean "I promise".
Dean and you stayed in that position for a while longer while you calmed yourselves before facing Sam "you ready?" Dean asked kissing your forehead, "yeah" you said your eyes feeling puffy and your voice sounding hoarse "I got Bobby, I was right he’s heard of it before, he said it's likely meadowsweet in the wreaths" Sam said looking up from his laptop, "what's wrong?" Sam asked when he seen your sad face "nothing Sammy it'll be alright" you told him, he turned his gaze to dean who's eyes remained on you "alright we'll talk about this later then.." Sam trailed off 
"So what's Bobby saying" you asked taking a seat on the couch  trying to get the focus of you "well other than calling us all morons, he told me the meadowsweet was used in pagan lore, mostly in their rituals" you and Dean shared a confused look "pagan lore, and what kind of rituals?" Dean asked taking his seat next to you 
"Well based on the research, meadowsweet was used like bait for their human sacrifices and the pagan gods would come basically chow down on the closest human" Sam said and your face twisted in disgust "Jesus what are we dealing with here" you said in disbelief "yeah it's pretty nasty stuff, when these family's have been putting the wreaths up it's basically an invitation for them to be killed and eaten" Sam told you "alright so how to do we stop it" dean asked his own face showing discomfort 
"I don't know" Sam told him and Deans eyes widen "Bobby working on a way to figure it out, until then, we're gonna find it" Sam said and you both nodded "alright our first step is to find out who's selling the wreaths... do you think they know what what they're selling?" You said  both boys shrugging their shoulders "I have no idea, I hope not" Dean said, Sam exhales loudly before clapping his hands "well let's go find out" 
Once you were in the parking lot Dean was wrapping his arm around your shoulders tucking you tightly into his side and throwing Sam baby's keys "your driving" Sam tilted his head in confusion before giving Dean a hard look "you are not making me drive so you two can make out in the back seat again!" Sam said quickly, Dean huffed "we're not gonna make out..." he trailed off looking at you shaking your head no "alright we're definitely not gonna make out while you drive...again" dean promised with a laugh before pulling you into the back seat with him and bringing you back to his side "step on it Sammy, we've got a monster to find" dean announced before the impala roared to life and Sam was tearing down the street. 
"Alright this place sells Christmas decorations let's try in here" you told the boys and walked in taking a look around "hi, can I help you folks?" the man at the counter asked "yeah I hope so, we were at the Walshes the other night for couples game night, and I couldn't keep my eyes off their Christmas wreath, it was beautiful and we were really hoping we could get one before Christmas, right honey?" You said a fake smile plastered on your face as you looked to dean "yeah that's right sweetheart, any chance you've got any of them left" dean continued your lie
The man looked confused "I'm sorry I see a lot of wreaths every day, could you be more specific?" You nodded "yeah, it was the most beautiful wreath, it had these green leaves and they had little white buds all over it" the man looked taken back "well aren't you a fussy one" the man said sarcastically , Dean gave the man a hard stare and went to tell him off before you cut him off "yeah I can be, just want the perfect wreath for our first christmas together in our new home" the man nodded and sighed "well it just so happens I know what wreath your talking about, they flew off my shelves in one day, every one loved them so I'm all out actually" sam gave the man a questioning look "the meadowsweet is actually pretty expensive why would you make wreaths out of it?" The man shrugged his shoulders "not a clue, I didn't make em" the man said in his gruff voice "oh really? Who did make them?" You asked him
The man turned to face you " it was Madge Carrigan, nice local lady, she told me these wreaths were so darn a special she was giving them to me, no charge" Dean chuckled knowingly "did you sell them for free too?" The man had a shocked look on his face "hell no, it's Christmas, people would spend money on damn near anything for any price if you slap Christmas in front of it!" The man said loudly looking at dean like he had three heads "that's the Christmas spirit, thanks for your time" you said grabbing Deans hand leading him toward the exit.
Later that night at the motel Dean and Sam were cleaning their  guns while you were in the shower "so what was going on earlier, you guys seemed pretty upset" Sam asked and Dean sighed "it's nothing Sammy we just had a little talk everything's fine" dean told him not wanting to talk about it "Dean come on man, you can talk to me, I'm your brother you don't have to hide anything from me" Sam said wanting Dean to talk "look Y/N was just upset about how much time I have left and when I kept pushing the Christmas thing it just made her feel worse so can we just not talk about it around her" dean said noting the sound of the shower turning off "yeah got it i won't mention it again" Sam said sadly, "alright, you boys ready" you asked coming out of the bathroom a little while later, both boys nodded.
"Alright I think this is the house" sam said "wow can't you just feel the evil" dean joked as he took in the many decorations surrounding the house, you and Sam rolled your eyes as you knocked on the door, a few seconds later a very jolly women opened the door "can I help you?" She asked "please tell me your Madge Carrigan? The genius who made the meadowsweet wreaths?" Dean asked, the women grew a big smile " why yes, that was me, they were most beautiful wreaths weren't they?" She said excitement oozing out of her "they were just beautiful, this one right here seen one the other day, and just hasn’t  stopped talking about it, ain't that right Sammy" Dean said pointing to his giant brother "... oh yeah, totally we were in the store the other day and seen them and they sold out just before we could get our hands on one" Sam told her feigning disappointment 
The women grew a sad look "oh fudge, that's horrible they are just the most sweet smelling wreaths!" She said you nodded your head "they were, we were so disappointed we couldn't get one ourselves, say, you wouldn't have any spares we could buy?" You asked and she kept her sad expression "oh I'm sorry dear, those were the only ones I had for this season, gosh I wish I could give you one!" She said and you held back a snarky 'yeah so you could eat us right up' remark "Mrs Carrigan. may I ask why did you choose to use meadowsweet in your wreaths?" You asked and a man came down in a cheerful sweater with an old fashioned pipe between his lips as she answered "why the smell of course, it's it just the sweetest smell dear?" She asked her husband 
"Oh it is! You haven't smelt anything sweeter than those Christmas wreaths!" The man said with a loud chuckle "definitely not sir" you faked a laugh with them "say would any of you folk care for some peanut brittle?" The man asked handing  the tub of candy out, you saw deans hand reaching for and quickly slapped it away "oh no thanks we're just on our way to dinner, don't want to ruin our appetites, anyway thank you for your time Mr and Mrs Carrigan, hopefully we snag a wreath next year" you say pulling both boys away "oh you will I save one specially for alll of you" Mrs Carrigan laughed as they closed the door, "well that was... disturbing" you said and both boys agreed before Sam was driving back to the motel.
Dean and you were sat on the motel bed sharpening wooden stakes to take out the evil pagans "you find anything yet sweetie?" You asked tossing and other finished stake to your pile before staring another "yeah, so get this, turns out Mr and Mrs jolly lived in Seattle last year, and right around Christmas time, there was a few abductions that took place, sounds identical to what's happening right now. And Bobby's sure that the evergreen stakes will kill them?" Sam asked  before shutting his laptop down, "Oh he's sure, so get helping big guy" dean said throwing Sam a stake to carve. 
It was nine o clock when you the boys were breaking into the empty house "hey look, the furniture still has the wrapping over it, they're obviously planning on ditching town as soon as possible" you said pointing your flashlight at the couch "that's creepy as hell" Dean said as you all made your way to the kitchen "hey guys over here!" Sam whispered loudly, you both went back over to find an unlocked door "must be the basement, let's check it out boys" you told them both as Sam lead the way down the basement, Dean walking behind you, both boys always being protective no matter what
"Oh my god that's disgusting" you said your flashlight pointed to 'santas sack' full of bones and body parts, the bag dripping blood "this places looks more like a butcher's than a freaking basement!" Dean as you took in the sight of blood and bones across the room, "I think there's someone in there!" Sam said worried as he saw the other sack moving, you all rushed to open it but you were grabbed from behind you screamed as the attacker lifted you off your feet 
"Y/N!" Dean yelled and rushed toward you Sam close behind his stake at the ready, you were slammed against the wall, Mrs Carrigan’s crazy  eyes meeting ours "it's very rude to break into people's home now isn't it" she sneered her hand tightening it's grip around your throat cutting off the air from your lungs blurring your vision “get your hands off her or I swear I'll blow your fucking brains out!" dean yelled his gun pointed at the women, Sam moving to sneak behind her with his stake raised before he was whacked in the back of the head, Mr Carrigan coming into view  "now, now it was awfully silly for you all to go snooping where you don't belong wasn't it" the man said slapping deans gun from his hand with unnatural strength "the hel-" dean started but was knocked out with a blow to the head by Madge. 
You stirred awake and looked around finding Dean sat in front of you tied to a chair, his head slumped to the side as he was out "Dean! Wake up" you called for him and heard shuffling from behind him "Y/N! Are you okay?" Sam asked worried "yeah I think so" you rasped out you throat feeling sore "what's going- Y/N! Sammy!" Dean moved quickly to start rushing to break out from the confinements of the ropes "looks like we're dealing with two pagan gods rather than one" Sam said 
"Oh look dear they're awake, goodness we thought you were gonna sleep right through the night" Madge said chuckling as she walked behind her husband "and what? sleep through the party? No chance" dean replied sarcastically "oh he's a funny man then. No boy, see what you lot are, is hunters!" Mr Carrigan  said looking  at all of us in disgust "yeah, and you're  pagan gods so how about we just forget about this and we go our separate ways" dean said and the Cardigans both shook their heads right away "not a chance, you would just go and call all your hunting friends, no your not walking out of here alive" Madge said cheerfully as she pulled out a knife and bowl 
"Guess you should have thought about that before you started eating people!" You demanded "oh don't be like that, we have pulled back from how much we used to eat, we used to take hundreds in a year, and now we only take what two or three?" She turned to her husband "well the three stooges here makes six dear" Mr Carrigan said as he walked to stand next to his wife "now that's not so bad is it, from hundreds to six people a year!" Madge said exasperated "oh well, when you say it like that... it's still horrible, your still monsters!" You said annoyed "you should be showing us some respect, your fate does lie in our hands now doesn't it, hunter" Mr Carrigan sneered at you in a threatening manner
"You touch a damn hair on her head and I swear I'll rip you limb from god damn limb" Dean threatened pulling at his restraints once again "well we're not the ones tied up now are we? so you ought to watch yourself" Mr Carrigan was in deans face as if to intimidate him "or what, your gonna eat us?" Madge perked up with a bright smile on her face "oh no, that comes later first we need to do the rituals" she announced clapping her hands together in excitement 
"Oh we do love a good ritual don't we Madge" the women nodded excitedly "nothing better than a gold ole ritual to get you in the Christmas spirit! We just need some-" "meadowsweet?" Dean questioned, Madge nodded excitedly "oh darn, your all out of your... special meadowsweet wreaths, guess we'll just have to cancel the whole ritual" you rushed out looking at dean who was already looking at you with a worried glint in his eye 
"Oh don't you worry dear, we have some special meadowsweet saved for such occasions!" Madge told you as she put wreaths around your necks "see now don't they look so, oh what's a good word... sweet" Madge said with a devious smile "sweet enough to eat!" Mr Carrigan said as he walked towards you with the knife and bowl "the hell are you doing! Get the fuck away from her" Dean yelled thrashing around in his restraints, Sam trifling against his own to help 
"We're starting with the loud mouth" Mr Carrigan said as he dragged the knife down you arm causing you to scream "Y/N!" "Get off her, I swear I'm gonna kill you, you fucking sons of bitches!" The boys both yelling
You felt slightly dizzy form the blood loss, but you've been hurt far worse than this so your able to stay awake "Can you believe how they talk to us Madge? We're gods! They should be bowing down to us and thanking us for this, it's an honour for you!" Mr Carrigan  said angrily leaning down to Sam "d-don't" Sam started before he yelled out in pain "Sammy!" You and dean yelled
 "you okay?" Dean questioned noticing your face screwed up in pain, don't worry about me I've been hurt worse than this" Madge came and stood before dean "now ya won't feel a pinch dear " she said before slicing down his arm Dean groaned in pain "you fucking bitch!" You screamed thrashing your legs trying to break them from their binds in order to lick the pagan god "oh watch your language in my house! She turned to you "when I really want to say bad words, ya know what I say… 'fudge' it's much nicer to say!" She said and you rolled your eyes "oh I'll try and fudging remember that!" You said exhausted with these peoples act 
"Where are the pliers Madge?" Mr Carrigan asked shuffling through the cupboards "third drawer dear" Madge replied as she placed the bowl of your mixed blood ok the kitchen counter "Ah delightful! I think we'll start with you" and Carrigan said as he came to stand in front of Sam "the hell are you gonna do to me!" Sam demanded, neither of them answered him as they started pulling his nail away, Sam yelled in pain as you and Dean yelled for them to stop "Get off him you fudging lunatics!" Dean yelled still trying to get out of his restraints "oh very good!" Madge said proudly to dean as she plopped  Sam's finger nail in the bloody bowl,
"Your turn" Mr Carrigan said as he looked at you with a sick smile "no- no please.." your begs were muffled as he put the pliers in your mouth and went to pull a tooth out "stop it!" Dean yelled 
Just as the evil pagan was about to rip your tooth out the doorbell rang, they shared a look of frustration before they stopped what they were doing and went to answer the door, leaving you and the boys alone 
“Alright we don’t have much time” Sam said before he was able to wiggle his arm from the restraint and grabbing the blood covered knife from the counter and cutting the rest of his ropes “how the hell did you get out of them” dean whisper yelled as Sam undid his restraints “he hit the rope on my wrist when he was cutting my arm, I just needed them to be distracted” Sam informed you both, as soon as deans restraints were done he was taking the knife from Sam and kneeling in front  of you “how you feeling baby?” He asked making you smile “I’m fine, let’s kill these bastards!” 
“We do apologise for that interruption, now let’s get back to the…” she trailed off turning to her her husband who matched her hard look before hearing a loud bang “careful you nearly took my hand off Dean!” They heard a male voice say from outside the door 
“Dude our evergreen stakes! They’re in the basement” dean said worried knowing the cupboard wouldn’t hold forever when he heard the yells and bangs from the kitchen as Mr and Mrs crazy tried to break free  “yeah I think I’ve got that figured out” you told them as they turned to see what you were staring at… the Christmas tree “god baby your a genius!” Dean said and walked towards the big tree, he started breaking the branches off, just as you each got your own weapons the cupboard snapped and the Carrigans were stood breathing heavy with red angry faces at the doorway
“Oh you rude little… I loved that tree!” She screamed as she rushed attack Dean, you punched her before she could get to him, she turned to give you a sinister smile as she spit a bit of to the floor, she tried to grab you by your neck once more but you were faster, riling to the side so the women stumbled, you heard a groan from beside you that causing your attention, seeing Mr Carrigan on top on dean was enough to distract you, giving the evil pagan the upper hand as she gripped you neck tightly, you scratched at her hands to get her off
As soon as it started it was over,her grip on your neck loosened as the women grew limp, you looked down to see the tree branch through her chest as you coughed uncontrollably , Sam was behind her shoving it in deeper “MADGE NO!” Mr Carrigan yelled, Dean stuck him with his own branch before shoving the limp body to the side and getting up “you two okay?” Dean asked rushing over, “I’m okay, bound to have a sore throat all next week considering lil ole Madge there seemed pretty into choking” you joked causing both boys to laugh “alright we better clean this crap up” Sam said already making his way toward the Carrigans body’s.
Dean had dropped Sam off at the motel while you two went to go grab some take out for Christmas dinner “this was a pretty nasty hunt wasn’t it” dean said and you turned to smile at him  “yeah it was, who’d have thought we’d find evil pagan gods” you joked and turned back to look at the open road, noticing dean slowing baby up and pulling into a dirt road
He turned to face you “hey, so I know you don’t want to do Christmas, and I get it, trust me I do, but I-” he stopped to take a deep breath before continuing “I got you this a while ago and was just finding the right time to give it to you, and now seems as good as any..” Dean confessed, reaching into his pocket to pull out a ring box revealing a beautiful diamond ring “dean?” You questioned tears in your eyes 
“I’m not proposing, we’ll i mean I kind of am, if I wasn’t in this deal sweetheart, I’d be on knee begging you to marry my ass but I don’t want to do that knowing there’s a chance I might not live to marry you, so I’m making a promise, a promise that if by some miracle I get out of this, you and me are getting married, we’ll do the whole nine yards because you deserve nothing better so my question is will you accept my promise?”” dean asked his voice shaky and full of fear as you had tears streaming down your face
You nodded and let out a teary laugh “yeah, I accept your promise Dean” you cried leaning forward to give him a wet kiss on the lips, you pulled apart when it became too hard to kiss because the two of you were smiling so hard “I love you so much sweetheart” he confessed leaning his forehead against yours “I love you too Dean”.
You and dean drive back to the motel after s few pit stops for food and gas, not being able to wipe the smile from your faces, not being able to stop admiring the small but beautiful diamond placed on your ring finger. 
You both walked into the the motel room hand in hand with burgers and fries in a bag, hearing jingle bells play softly in the background and Sam stood smiling at you both, you took in the room and noticed the little Christmas tree sat on the table and the eggnog “Sammy?” Dean questioned his smile growing bigger “what’s all this then?” Sam gave him an obvious look “it’s Christmas, well our Christmas” Sam replied handing you both a cup of eggnog
“Well let’s sit down get eating” Dean said as you all took a seat at the small motel couch “hey what’s that” Sam asked spotting the sparkle in you hand “we’ll we kinda got engaged, well a promise engagement” you told him showing the ring off to the younger Winchester who was smiling at you both “that’s amazing you guys!” He congratulated making you smile 
“I got you both something” Sam confessed pulling out two presents wrapped up in news paper “you didn’t have to do that Sammy” you said with a smile, “I got you something too” dean told him pulling out the presents you two both purchased, “oh wait don’t open anything! I have your presents in my bag” you said quickly running to your duffle and pulling out two cutely wrapped boxes “sweetheart when did you get these? I thought you were against CHRISTMAS at first?” Dean questioned when you handed him his present 
“I was against celebrating… under these circumstances but I always love presents” you told him sitting down once more you all opened you gifts, Sam had gotten you your favourite bottle of vodka, Dean had gotten Sam porno mags to which the younger hunter lit up at “no more pay per view for a while now” you joked, he also got him a bottle of shaving cream, knowing he ran out that morning… because he’d finished it off, Sam got Dean a bottle of oil for Dean and his favourite candy bar “hey, you knew just what I wanted man” dean told him opening up the candy bar 
The boys the  opened your gifts “Y/N, thank you I love it” Sam said moving to give you a hug after  he opened the box of his favourite cologne “no problem sweetie, I know how much you love that stuff 
Dean was next opening up his present “hey that’s awesome, a new gun to add to the collection” dean said excited looking at the silver pistol “hey it’s got my initials!” Thank you sweetheart, I love it” dean told you pulling you into a deep kiss.
You and the boys were all sat on the couch, you on deans lap cuddling into him as home alone played in the back ground, but you couldn’t really focus too much on the movie, only the man who was currently snoozing with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, thinking of every possible way to save him from his  fate, praying to anyone to save your boyfriend, for now you had to wait and just hope for the best, hope that your boyfriend wouldn’t be ripped to shreds by hell hounds, hope that someone, anyone could save him. For right now you were gonna relish in the feeling of his strong arms around you, of the feeling of his heartbeat, the sounds of his voice because deep down you knew, he couldn’t be saved from this, you just had to cherish the little time left with him. 
___________________________________________
ALL MY OWN WORK I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OR PUBLISH ON OTHER SITES , I.E WATTPAD, ETC, WITHOUT MESSAGING TO ASK FIRST
hi, its been a minute, currently rushing through ideas and trying to write for Sam and Cas but every idea just so happens to accidently turn into a Dean imagine (im sorry sam and cas people!) if you have any ideas you would like to see done please feel free to send in any requests x
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kissingghouls · 3 days ago
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Last X-mas (Part One)
Mary Goore x f!Reader
Summary: A shitty xmas party brings you and Mary a little closer. (900 words)(Part One takes place before Winter Chill and Part Two takes place after the other More Goore stories ♥) tags: prequel kinda?, more Goore '24 universe, he/they Mary. warnings: Mary's a little depressed, Reader's boyfriend is an asshole, manipulative behavior. (These things are barely there, but I want everyone to be safe ♥)
Note: Mary anon, your prompt is also included in part 2. I got carried away tbh. ♥ soft Mary forever.
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There was nothing worse than a bad party. Scratch that. There was nothing worse than being stuck at a bad party. But there Mary was leaning against a wall at Chaos House, stuck and not having any fun. The living room was full of people in ugly sweaters despite the intense heat being created by said idiots writhing in the tiny space. A poorly decorated artificial tree stood in the corner bent at an odd angle because no one ever properly stored the thing, they just tossed it down the basement stairs when its time was up. Around him, people were having a great time laughing and dancing. But his beer was warm, his mood was sour, and he couldn’t help thinking he wasn’t supposed to be here. 
As much as he loved his friends, watching them all dance to blast beats over that George Michael song wasn’t enough to distract him from all the shit that had gone wrong that year. That shitty relationship. The even shittier breakup afterward. That driver’s test mishap. That job offer in the city that fell through—the one that was supposed to get him out of this shitty little town. Part of him knows this was for the better somehow—that relationship was already beyond doomed, that job would have fucking sucked and he didn’t have a car anyway. But his mind still wandered through all the ways the next year could’ve been different if he wasn’t such a spectacular fuck up. 
They dragged themselves away from the party and slipped through the back door undetected. It was a moonless night and the light on the back porch had burned out at least a year ago, but Chaos House didn’t earn its name ironically and Mary didn’t really mind sulking in the dark alone. They dropped into a chair in a shadowy corner, lit a cigarette, and stared up at the sky. The universe carried on spinning and whatever momentary calm that and the nicotine had brought them was quickly undone by the sudden appearance of you. In all their pathetic self-loathing they hadn’t even realized you were at this party and that, for some unknown reason, made them feel ten times worse.
But there you were, adorable as ever, with sparkles in your hair and a weird Krampus on your shirt.
They sat up and opened their mouth to speak as you passed, not wanting to scare you by being a creep in the shadows. But you marched straight past, heavy boots stomping like you were on an angry mission. Like you were escaping and you couldn’t get away fast enough. You were halfway down the steps before the door flew open and your shitty boyfriend appeared. He crossed the deck without noticing Mary and quickly caught up to you.
“Why are you being like this?” he hissed as he caught your arm to stop you. “It’s not a big deal!”
You whipped around with fire in your eyes and pried yourself free of his grip. It was obvious now that you’d been crying and the more you tried to get away from the guy, the more Mary could tell you were drunk. On unsteady feet, you managed to back out of his reach, mumbling as you swiped at your face and smeared your makeup even more. 
“Not a big deal?” you asked through gritted teeth. “You’re such a fucking asshole.”
Mary’s stomach sank. He leaned further into the shadows, embarrassed about overhearing such an intense and clearly private conversation. He never liked the guy and couldn’t give a fuck less about what happened to him, but you—god, you deserved so much better than this dipshit. 
“C’mon don’t be like that,” he groaned and reached for you.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” you warned, stumbling back a few steps.
“God, you’re really going to act like this? It’s not a big deal—”
“If you say that one more time I’m going to kick you in the dick.”
“Whatever. You’re just mad because you’re drunk. Let’s go,” he ordered in an annoyed tone and tried to wrangle you back up the steps.
“Don’t touch me—”
“Hey!” Mary shouted as he stood. He rushed from his spot in the dark and leaned hard into your boyfriend, shoving him away from you. “She said don’t touch her.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, not you,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “Mind your own fucking business, Goore.”
“Nah, this is my business now, so why don’t you fuck off?”
“You know what? Fine. Why don’t you take her home since you love her so much. I’m fucking done,” he huffed and stormed off.
Mary stood silently, watching as the hulking shadow of your asshat boyfriend made his way around the outside of the house. Seconds later a car door slammed and tires spun, leaving you and him awkwardly alone outside.
He turned toward you and cleared his throat. “I…uh— “
“Don’t,” you begged quietly.
“Wasn’t gonna. You ok?”
“No,” you admitted shaking your head. “Why is he so…”
“I don’t know. Probably because he’s a dick.”
You sniffed hard and wiped the tears away with the back of your hand. “I wanna go home.”
His chest grew tight. The only thing you wanted at that moment was something he couldn’t really give you himself. “You want me to help you find a ride?”
“Nah, I’ll be ok.” You looked up at him with big, sad eyes. “Thank you, Mary.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothin’.”
“It’s something, Goore. Accept it.”
“Okay.”
You gave him a soft smile and a tiny wave before making your way back up to the house.
“Hey, uh…Merry Christmas or whatever,” he called after you.
You snorted and turned back to him. “It’s July.”
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alecmagnuslwb · 3 days ago
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Merry Crypt-mas, Happy Maul-idays
Read on AO3
John hates malls. He’s never spent much time in one and after today he’d rather take another trip to hell than come back to this place. 
It’s his own fault really, waiting the day before Christmas to get Zatanna a present probably wasn’t the best move he could have made. But he’d tried for weeks to find something good, especially after Zatanna started boasting that she’d found the perfect gift for him. 
They’ve put a little effort into doing the whole Christmas thing since the Krampus incident. They keep it simple still, just the two of them and some classy decor courtesy of Zatanna. They’ve never been present people, aside from John keeping up his annual flowers for her birthday, but this year they decided to give it a shot. 
But what does a guy buy the witch who has everything? Zatanna is never short on cash and easily buys the things she wants and needs for herself. John the owner of three shirts couldn’t begin to buy her clothes to fit her style if he tried, she has entire houses filled with magical artifacts and books and anything else he can possibly think of she can quite literally conjure up for herself with a snap of her fingers. 
The Stonestown Galleria is most definitely not the answer to his dilemma. The stores are too glossy and basic, the music is way too loud and the Santa’s at every corner are suspiciously sweaty. If he does manage to find a gift in time this isn’t where it’s going to happen. 
He barely makes it out of the mall alive with a far too aggressive mom barreling her way through with what looks like fifteen kids. The streets are nearly as bad, but he manages to weave his way home eventually hailing a cab that he may or may not have stolen out from under a pack of drunken elves. 
John almost very nearly forgets to pay the cabbie so used to Chas driving him around for free, but he tosses him a wad of cash with a nice tip before the cursing starts. The house is twinkling in blue and white lights, the big gate all decked out in silver garland as he passes through it. 
Inside the lights are low and warm, some sort of jazzy Christmas music playing loudly from upstairs. Zatanna practically floats down the stairs, a little backpack slung over her shoulder. 
“Hey,” she says with a smile brushing by him with a quick kiss to his cheek. “We’re going to Portland,” she says heading into the living room. She slips a book into her bag and then waves a hand, the music silencing and the lights going even lower. 
“We are?” he says, following easily as she grabs his hand. She uses the other to pull up a portal pulling him through without hesitation. 
“Yup,” she says once they’re through closing it up behind them. They land in an alleyway, presumably in Portland, walking out onto a much less bustling street than the one John had just left behind in San Francisco. “Rory has a contact here who reached out. Eleven nights ago a local guy who was pretty well known for his tendency to drink turned up eviscerated with his guts replaced with stones and straw.” 
“People do crazy things around the holidays,” John says, hand still in hers as she leads him down the street. 
“That’s what the cops thought too, but then it happened the next night to a teen who always vandalizes some local shops, night after that a shoplifter on the getaway and one a day ever since someone with a history of crimes or a penchant for getting up to no good has turned up in the same fashion.”
“Serial killers aren’t usually our style,” John says.
“Nope, but the last four deaths have had eyewitnesses who reported seeing an eight foot woman with goat fur and horns leaving with a heaping bag of entrails.”
She meets his eyes with a rye, humorless smile. “Much more up our alley,” he replies. 
“And there’s more,” Zatanna says, dropping his hand. She turns walking backwards to hold his eye. “Within twenty minutes of each killing, at houses no more than ten blocks away people have reported seeing a beautiful eight foot tall woman in a white dress stained in blood leaving bags of gold coins and candy for children with straight a’s and solid volunteer resumes.”
“That’s definitely our kind of weird,” he says, coming to a stop when Zatanna does. 
“Exactly, Portland is pretty scant on heroes and magics in general so I said we’d check it out,” Zatanna says tilting her head towards the shop in front of them. Rosa’s Soaps and Beyond sure has late hours for a store of its kind; it's already nearing 7 pm. “He also gave me the name of one of the few legit witches in this town who could help us figure out what’s doing this. Rory said she knows her bestiary better than anyone so it should be a quick in and out on the research end at least.” 
“Sometimes I miss when we would just go in magic ablaze with no research,” he sighs as Zatanna pushes open the door a little bell shaped like a bar of soap rings above the door as they enter. The shop is quaint, little stations with bars of soap and crystals all scattered about. Two brightly lit Christmas trees fill so much of the shop's space, tinsel and bells and little reindeer all around. If it weren’t for the shop's name John would wonder if it was specifically a seasonal Christmas store. 
Zatanna chuckles, “You nearly died a few too many times for my liking in those days.” 
John just shrugs waiting as a woman makes her way to the front of the store. She’s older with long graying hair, a thick wooly sweater and khakis on. She’s unassuming to most, but John clocks the real magic pouring off of her in an instant. 
“Rory Regan sent us,” Zatanna says, stepping forward. She slings her little backpack around pulling a book out. 
“The great Zatara,” Rosa says with a crooked little smile. 
“That’s my father, I’m just Zatanna,” she says with a matching smile. “And this is John Constantine,” she gestures over her shoulder with the book. 
“Oh, I know trouble when I see it,” Rosa says, turning she gestures for them to follow her to the counter. Zatanna smiles at John over her shoulder following. She sits the book onto the counter as John leans against it. 
“Rory said you’d been looking for this one,” she says, sliding it towards Rosa. It’s old, a mix of latin, Spanish and sigils John can’t identify on the cover. 
“When I told him I’d help his friends I didn’t say I required payment,” she hums, running her hands over the book. 
Zatanna shrugs. “Consider it a Christmas gift.” 
Rosa smiles at her picking up the book. “Well, Merry Christmas to me.” She slips the book into a box off to the side, it glows bright when she closes it sealing it shut with magic. “So, we’ve got a two faced creature running around our city.” 
“Not two opposing creatures?” John questions. 
Rosa shakes her head lifting the counter. She gestures for the two of them to follow her and they do through a red and green beaded curtain. The back is just as Christmassy as the front, maybe even more so the soft tone of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas playing in the background. She taps a long table covered in what John presumes are soap making tools, little broken bars causing an assault of varying scents. John and Zee take the stools on one side while Rosa moves about the room scanning her litany of bookshelves. She pulls a large one bound in red leather, gold embossing around the edges. 
She flips the book open brushing aside some materials on the table to lay it in front of them as she takes the stool opposite them. 
“Perchta is at her base level a female Krampus,” Rosa begins. John and Zee share a look that Rosa clocks immediately.
“I’m guessing you two are familiar with him?” she asks, leaning against the table. 
Zatanna lets out a little humorless laugh. “You could say we weren’t spirited enough a couple years back and he made sure we knew about it.”
“Wow, I’m a little jealous, I’ve always wanted to meet him,” Rosa sighs. 
“Smells like mint and stale gingerbread and has way too many creepy little sidekicks,” John says. 
“Sidekicks?”
Zatanna nods. “Gingerbread guys with a penchant for knives, big jack in the box with a massive slime trail.”
“Der Klown?” Rosa says almost a little dreamily. “Oh, now I’m very jealous,” she pauses for a moment a little wistfully before turning back to the book pointing at a drawing of a very lovely looking woman in a white dress. “Alas, we’re dealing with Perchta, who makes Krampus look like a puppy dog.”
Perchta, she explains to them, is a woman of two faces. The bright that gives candies and money to good children wishing to do no harm and make up for the actions her other half commits. Her dark side however is brutal, hashing out extreme punishment on the naughtiest and laziest children and adults she comes across. 
“She’s also a lot more standout in appearance than the bright side,” Rosa says after her quick explanation flipping the page to another drawing. This one is a lot less lovely, a tall goat like woman with entrails hanging from her furry maw. 
“I’m guessing she’s a 12 days of Christmas type of monster,” Zatanna says, pulling the book a little closer. 
“Which means tonight is the last night before she’ll go back into hibernation.”
“Merry bloody Christmas,” John says. “So how do we track her down and stop her?”
“Stopping her won’t be too hard, two hundred years ago a witch in the Carpathian mountains made a spell with a potion to give the bright side the advantage, gives her total control over the body, but it seems the spell must have run its course now. I’ve already got a brew going and what you’ll need, I’d do it myself but after my 60th I vowed no more monster hunting,” Rosa says with a warm smile. This woman has a whole lot of history there’s no doubt. 
“As for tracking her, that's a different story. Historically she hasn’t been one for a pattern. She lives in the alps generally, but as far back as the mid 1400’s she’s been known to travel. Like Krampus she just goes where she feels she’s needed. After two centuries of dormancy though it seems she’s evolving, getting crafty even,” Rosa says pushing back her stool. She disappears for a moment behind another beaded curtain before returning with a map. 
She spreads it out over the book, red marker highlighting the spots of each of the kills and green marking the spots of each of the prizes left behind. 
Rosa drags a finger along the trail connecting each dot, magic slips from her finger leaving a glittering trail as she goes. 
“After the first four the cops have been keeping locations more hush in the media, but people talk so I’ve pieced together a few,” she says as she continues to move over the map. “So far though the pattern seems to be a little on the nose.”
She stops having connected what she has so far. Zatanna tilts her head trying to see what Rosa sees when it clicks, “She’s making a Christmas tree.” 
Rosa nods with a smile.
“Cheeky,” John comments, seeing the pattern now that Zee has said it. 
“Knowing the other spots would help to figure out where she’s headed next exactly, but the cops don’t generally share information with little old soap shop owners,” Rosa says. 
“They might with a Justice League card carrying member though,” Zatanna comments getting up from her stool. “You know what precinct the detective in charge is at?” Rosa nods pointing to the location on the map.
Zatanna focuses on it for a moment before putting up a hand opening a portal. John watches as she slips her hair over one shoulder and twists her hand. Her outfit shifts from the striped flare pants, crop top and John’s old battered punk rock black jean jacket to her best known look top hat and all. She always has better luck with getting local authorities to cooperate when she’s in the full superhero to stage look they expect from her. 
“Give me like fifteen,” she says. John smirks at her costume change, she taps him once playfully with the hat in her hand before putting on a big, bright stage worthy smile before stepping through the portal. A whoosh of air follows as the portal closes the room going quiet. 
“You really know your Christmas monsters,” John says, turning away from the spot where Zatanna just left. 
Rosa smiles, collecting her book and taking it to the shelf it came from. “You may have noticed I’m a fan,” she says gesturing at, well, everything around her. 
“Hard to miss,” John huffs a little laugh. 
“I guess the same can’t be said for the two of you?” she asks when she returns to the table. 
John shrugs, thinking for a moment, they’re not exactly Christmas haters, but being visited by Krampus probably gives that impression. 
“I’ve never been one for most holidays, didn’t exactly celebrate them growing up. And Zee I think just lost her interest in it over the years, always on the road or fighting another monster down,” he pauses gesturing to the situation they’re in right now. “The two of us just didn’t think about it much I guess.”
“Until Krampus told you that you should?” Rosa chuckles. 
“Something like that,” John laughs. “We’re still not rolling out the holiday carpet like you, but Zee decorates, we put the music on, keep the fire raging. Or at least we did last year, this year we decided a little gift exchange couldn’t hurt our holiday spirit and I’m regretting that a bit. It’s officially Christmas Eve and I haven’t got a thing.”
Rosa hums in thought. “I presume a woman like that isn’t the easiest to buy for?”
“She doesn’t want for much,” John says, fiddling with a piece of soap on the table. “And I’ve always been more of an action bloke.” 
Rosa ponders for a moment about to say something when a portal whooshes back open into the room. Zatanna steps through back in her more casual outfit. 
“Wohs eht snoitacol I saw nevig no eht pam,” she says, reaching out a hand towards the table. The red and green markers on the table dance over it connecting lines and dots together until all that’s missing on the Christmas tree shape is the final points of the star. 
“That didn’t take long,” John says as she comes to his side leaning against him. Instinctively John wraps one arm loosely around her waist. 
“They were pretty eager for the help,” she says leaning over to look at the map. “I don’t think I even needed the top hat.” 
Rosa picks up a blue marker dotting two little points and connecting them to the rest of the star. 
“Dark Perchta will start the show,” she says, tapping on the first blue spot. 
“You sure that’ll be her first stop, could go either way,” Zatanna says, running a finger between the two spots. 
Rosa chuckles. “Oh, I’m sure, this,” she says tapping the spot again. “Is a biker bar. I doubt any good little children are spending their Christmas Eve in there.” 
“All the murders have happened somewhere after 10, so, stakeout?” Zatanna says shifting in John’s hold. John shifts his thumb back and forth against the little space of skin exposed by her crop top and nods. Stakeouts with Zatanna are always fun, they usually make out for at least a small portion of them despite her protests that they need to stay on business. 
“I have a car you can use, it’s an old boat but it’ll do,” Rosa says. She walks over to a corkboard on the wall grabbing a small velvet pouch and a set of keys. She tosses the keys to John and hands the pouch to Zatanna carefully. “Get that potion down her throat bottle and all and say the words on the stitching,” she explains as Zatanna flips the bag to read the Latin. Admittedly John’s better with it, but she’ll be able to get by well enough with this. 
“Impala’s in the back,” she says as they make their way through the second beaded curtain towards the back exit. Zatanna puts a little protective spell over the potion as she pockets it ensuring it won’t break. 
“Oh there’s one other thing I completely forgot to mention,” Rosa says as John pushes open the back door. “Dark Perchta has minions.”
Zatanna raises an eyebrow as Rosa holds up a finger gesturing for them to wait. She steps into a corner of the room procuring two steel baseball bats. She holds them out to them. 
“Don’t waste your magic on them, they’re pretty easily squished for lack of a better term,” she says as the two take the bats. Rosa ushers them out of the door. “Good luck!” she waves before shutting it tight, another little bell happily ringing them away. 
“I hate minions,” John grumbles, dragging the bat along the ground as he heads towards the driver's seat. 
Zatanna tsks at him intercepting as he’s about to put the keys in. “You are not driving, you’re abominable at it.” 
John rolls his eyes. “It’s trickier in America,” he defends conceding as she takes the keys.
Zatanna laughs as they get into the old car, tossing the bats into the back seat. “And what’s your excuse for being terrible at it in England too?”
John just grumbles crossing his arms in the passenger seat as she pulls out of the alley. 
                                                                           *****
“Want some?” Zatanna says reaching over with a small bag of little holiday cookies. John turns from where he’s been staring out the window watching the bar like a hawk ever since his attempts at a little stakeout makeout were turned down.
“Where did you-” he starts Zatanna waving the fingers of her other hand with a little bit of pink sparks at the end answering his question before he can finish it. 
He takes two cookies popping them in his mouth, moving his eyes back out the window watching as three burly bikers walk out, each packing visible, way too large guns as they get on their bikes and drive off. 
“Perchta’s gonna have her pick here,” John says. In the short time they’ve been here they’ve witnessed a drug deal, what is likely an illegal arms ring and if all Perchta needs to be mad is a little sloth and drunk and disorderly activity she’ll have her fill here. 
“She’s definitely saving the best for last,” Zatanna says through a mouthful of cookies. 
“Should we do something about the, ya know crime being committed here? Is it against you’re League decree or whatever to ignore it?” John wonders leaning over to take another cookie. 
Zatanna shrugs, “I’ll pass along the info to the Lanterns, there’s a newer one she’s based out of Portland I think when she’s not in space.”
They sit quietly for a while after that, enjoying their snack and keeping a watchful eye on the bar. 
“Are you excited for our gift exchange tomorrow?” Zatanna asks after a while dusting the crumbs off her hands, making the packaging garbage disappear with a little magic. 
John freezes up swallowing the last cookie hard. “Um, yeah.”
“Wow,” Zatanna says sarcastically. “With enthusiasm like that Krampus will never think about us again.” 
John opens his mouth about to try and sound a little more eager about the gift exchange he has nothing to contribute to when he spots movement on the left side of the bar.
He shifts in his seat wordlessly pointing with his thumb to get Zatanna’s attention. She follows his gesture and straightens up in her seat where she’d been comfortably lounged. 
“That’s not a biker,” she says as the tall figure rounds the corner. She’s almost exactly as the picture had depicted: 8 foot tall easily without even counting the massive antlers that drip some sort of goo to the ground. She moves slowly, her sticky black hooves leaving prints as she goes. 
John taps her arm lightly before they move to exit the car. Zatanna takes the potion from her jacket pocket holding the potion bottle in her hand as she wraps the string of the bag around her wrist while John grabs the bats from the backseat. He hands one to Zatanna that she holds loosely, while he holds his tight upright and ready as they move slowly towards Perchta just out of her line of sight. 
Perchta outstretches her claws as the door opens, a bouncer throwing a belligerent drunk out the door. He’s shouting obscenities not even noticing the monstrous woman casting a shadow overtop of him. 
“Shit,” John whispers, immediately throwing out their hope of doing this stealthily. He charges in front of Zatanna whacking Perchta hard in the back with his bat. It breaks her focus from the drunk who stumbles off in the other direction still not even noticing them. 
Perchta turns silently and slowly until she’s chest to eyeline with John. He looks up at her big black empty eyes squinting at him angrily. 
“Merry Christmas?” he tries, but it seems Perchta isn’t buying it. She lets out a howl swiping at John. He jumps back avoiding it as she howls again. 
Zatanna pockets the potion again and grabs him by the back of his coat pulling him back as the minions Rosa mentioned answer Perchta’s call. 
They surround their master little hairy balls of teeth growling at the pair of them. One jumps and Zatanna swings at it knocking it into the brick wall of the bar. Glittering dark red blood splatters the wall as the other little minions start to scatter. 
John and Zatanna start swinging at the little creatures, easily splattering them with a few hits of a bat no magic needed just as Rosa had said. John swings wildly, taking out as  many as possible with each swing, they seem to be multiplying like Gremlins though like he’ll never reach an end with them. Zatanna knocks a few into the wall before shifting her attention to Perchta who’s using the distraction to her advantage walking towards the door of the bar, the booming metal Christmas music from inside making the inhabitants none the wiser to what’s happening outside. 
John sees Perchta’s movements too and runs, stepping on a few of the creatures along the way clearing a path for Zatanna to get at her. She tosses her bat to the side as she makes a run at Perchta conjuring up a ball of fire in hand. 
She knocks it directly into the back of Perchta’s head causing the beast to growl again. She moves faster now charging at Zatanna angrily. Zatanna throws a few more rounds of fire at Perchta. Perchta doesn’t take kindly to it outstretching her arm, Zatanna swerves but runs into a wall of minions allowing Perchta to get a hand on her collar lifting Zatanna up into the air slowly. 
“Tup em nwod!” she yells trying to force Perchta’s arm down, but she’s tough fighting back against the magic. She doesn’t quite put her down leaving Zatanna dangling at eye level with more hairy nipples than she’s ever desired to be eye level at. 
John sees this and runs towards her to help, but he doesn’t make it more than a few steps before the minions are tripping him up. A few squishing underneath him as he falls hard to the pavement. He fights them off with his hands and the bat, a few latching on with their sharp teeth as they try to get at him. 
Zatanna spares a glance John’s way trusting him to handle himself before focusing back on Perchta. Zatanna gives up trying to get put down instead she slips the potion from her pocket back into her hand as Perchta raises her up to eye level.  
She growls closed mouth once when Zatanna puts out a free hand a spark of magic shooting into Perchta’s neck. She growls loud and pained, openmouthed at the jolt and Zatanna uses it as her moment tossing the potion down her gullet. Perchta chokes her grip on Zatanna loosening just a bit. She tries to cough up the bottle, to get her minions to her side, but she has no luck. John’s keeping them busy squishing them one by one, back on his feet now. 
“Tuhs ruoy htuom!” Zatanna yells placing a hand over Perchta’s mouth. Her magic does its thing this time sewing up Perchta’s gaping maw with a thick cord. Perchta loses her grip on Zatanna entirely, dropping her to the ground, thrashing about in rage with her sealed mouth. Zatanna flips the bag on her wrist reading over the Latin one more time before speaking it aloud, clear and bright into the night. 
Perchta’s thrashing stops in place, her whole giant body freezing in place. The velvet bag at Zatanna’s wrist catches fire and she flinches pushing herself back, struggling to get the string off her wrist, tossing it at Perchta’s feet. 
Perchta’s chest glows bright and blindingly white,  cracking open just below the neck slowly splitting down the middle, the same glittery red blood spilling from her. An arm stark white and shimmering emerges from the opening, followed by another pulling the skin of Perchta further and further apart. 
Perchta’s furry goat body falls away landing with a large, wet thud against the concrete. In her place stands her bright side all glowing white with long hair covered in viscera like some sort of mystical, abnormally tall Carrie White. 
The minions fall off of John no longer barring their teeth as they scuttle over to Bright Perchta’s side. She looks down at all of them with a just ever so slightly eerie smile before looking down at Zatanna. She opens one of her large hands, a small bag appearing that she places at Zatanna’s feet with a grateful nod before turning the little minions scuttling behind her. 
John comes to her side, reaching down to help her up. She slips a bit on the gooey viscera surrounding her but John catches her keeping her steady. 
“Did we do it?” he asks keeping hold of her, uncaring that she’s getting glittery blood all over him. 
“I think so,” she says looking down at herself with a frown. She bends over, John’s hand still steady on the small of her back, picking up the little baggie that Bright Perchta has dropped. She opens it to find a few gleaming coins and carefully wrapped candies inside. 
“I guess I was good this year,” she says shoving the baggie into her jacket pocket. John laughs, kissing the side of her head. 
                                                                              ****
Zatanna cleans them and the street up before another drunk biker manages to stumble outside. Rosa is waiting for them when they make it back to the shop, two cups of hot coffee being traded for the return of her bats. 
They chat for a bit, Rosa confirming the spell was done right and everything should be clear in terms of Perchta for a long time. She talks a little more about her experience not giving away much though about the very real waves of power they can still feel coming off of her. 
Once their coffee’s have been refilled and finished again it’s nearly midnight. 
“Not to kick you out, but I have three grandchildren who I’ll be lucky if they manage to wake me even seconds after sunrise,” Rosa says collecting their cups. 
They take the hint gathering themselves. “Thank you for your help, if you ever need anything give us a direct call, we’re just a portal away,” Zatanna says she leans forward giving Rosa a little quick, slightly awkward hug before pulling up a portal. 
John salutes Rosa about to follow Zatanna as she steps through. Rosa reaches out grabbing him by the sleeve before he can step through. She slips a small box into his hand, patting it once lightly. 
“Since you’ve run out of shopping days,” she says with a wink before sending him on his way.
He pours out directly into their bedroom just a few beats after Zatanna. She’s already halfway across the room, her high pony down, jacket and shirt discarded on the floor. 
“I desperately need a shower,” she says, kicking off her boots before turning his way. He slips the box discreetly into his pants pocket so she won’t see. 
“Still feel like you’re covered in viscera?” he says with a smile, pulling his coat off and tossing it over the chair in the corner. 
“Always,” she says, making a disgusted face as she sheds her pants. She flips her hand in the air, the shower turning on in the attached bathroom. She turns making her way towards it, unlatching her bra and letting it fall to the floor as she goes. 
John settles on the edge of the bed just happily watching as her dark hair cascades across her bare shoulders. 
“Not joining me?” she pouts stopping in the doorway looking over her shoulder at him. 
He smiles at her one hand slipping into the pocket with the box, “Just a minute.” 
She shrugs disappearing into the bathroom as steam starts to pool out. He waits until she’s shut the door to pull the box from his pocket. It’s a simple black box giving no clue as to what’s inside. He lifts the lid and finds a note with his name scrawled across it in blocky letters. 
He grabs the paper unveiling a bracelet underneath two silver chains twisted artfully together little galaxy looking crystals filling the gaps. It’s pretty, simple but with a little flare. Not anywhere near as loud as many of Zatanna’s accessories, but he knows she’ll like it.  
He unfolds the note, setting the box aside on the bed. The writing inside is more delicate: What do you give the girl who has everything? Something she already has. You. A drop of blood and good intentions will imbue the bracelet with a little taste of your magic for her to use whenever she might need it. A safeguard of sorts. All she has to do is think of you and she’ll be able to tap into it. It runs out after each use though, but I don’t think you’ll mind spilling a little blood every now and then for her, the note concludes with Rosa’s signature, a glittering little snowman sticker by her name. 
He reaches into his other pocket, coming up with just a lighter. He walks over to the chair grabbing his coat digging around in the pocket tossing the contents on his nightstand: a half a pack of cigarettes, another lighter, another pack of cigarettes, a few dollars, a probably cursed stone and then finally what he was looking for his pocket knife. He sits back on the edge of the bed hovering over the box with the bracelet resting in it. 
He thinks of Zatanna, and how even at his worst he’s only ever had nothing but good intentions towards her. Wanted nothing in this world more than for her to be safe and well at every turn. He cuts open his right pointer finger, the hand with the palm scarred more times over than anywhere on his body maybe with magical sigils and power and lets the blood drop down onto the bracelet. The blood disappears almost instantly on contact the silver chains shining for a moment. They look somehow more silver than they did a moment ago.
John sucks the blood off of his finger and reseals the box. He can feel it thrumming ever so slightly with a bit of his power. 
The bathroom door opens again, Zatanna still in the shower, this a hint from her to hurry up and get in there. He huffs a laugh sitting the box under the mess from his coat pocket on his nightstand before unbuttoning his shirt as he makes his way to join his girl. 
                                                                          ****
John gets the makeout he was denied on the stakeout and even more in the shower, happily staying glued to Zatanna’s back as she tries in vain to get dressed afterwards. Eventually they get downstairs in comfortable pants and old t-shirts that used to belong to varying members of John’s band. 
Zatanna pours them a couple glasses of whiskey while John runs back upstairs to grab her gift when he notices the time, it’s nearly two in the morning, officially Christmas. 
She’s settled on the couch when he comes back downstairs, legs outstretched two glasses of whiskey sitting on the coffee table. She’s turned the other way flipping her hand to change the color of the lights to a warm tone that satisfies her. John taps her leg with his thigh and she moves crossing her legs making space for him. He settles in front of her one leg under the other turned to face her way when she finally gets the light just right. 
He hands her the box when her eyes meet his. 
“Merry Christmas,” he says as she reaches out for it taking the box in hand. She smiles brightly at him before running a hand over the lid. John reaches over to the table for his drink taking a healthy gulp of it as she lifts the lid off tossing it on the floor to the side. 
The notes gone in the pockets of his pants that are now sitting on the bathroom floor so instantly she sees the bracelet.   
“It’s beautiful,” Zatanna says, bringing it a little closer to her face.”I never thought you’d get me jewelry.” 
“I can’t take total credit for it, or any really. I just followed the instructions after Rosa gave it to me,” John says, watching as she runs her fingers over the piece of jewelry. “It’s not just a bracelet, it’s got my magic in it, a little of it, at your disposal. Think of it like having me with you even when I’m not.” 
Zatanna looks up from the bracelet, her eyes wide and a little glossy. John reaches forward taking the bracelet from the box, unclasping it carefully. She drops the box to the side of the couch and holds her right wrist out for him. 
“Won’t come as a shock since Rosa gave me this that I struggled to find you something and I know you’ve got all the power you need, but ya know if you ever find yourself in need of a bit of me when i’m not around you’ll have it,” he says clasping it around her wrist. Zatanna feels a little spark as he clasps it shut. John runs his fingers softly up her arm when he’s done.  “I can power it back up when you need.”
“John,” Zatanna pauses her fingers running along the silver chains again. She can feel it in there, his power, the same power she’s always felt brimming under his scarred skin resting on her pulse point. “It’s incredible,” she says, lifting her eyes back to him. She reaches up, running her fingers along his jawline softly. “My present totally sucks in comparison,” she chuckles dropping her hand to rest on his chest. 
“Come on, you’ve been bragging for weeks,” he says taking the hand on his chest, he tangles their fingers together lifting them to his lips to press a kiss to the back of her hand. 
“Honestly I was just messing with you, I got you a couple of ties and a bottle of that cheap whiskey you like,” she laughs moving in closer to him. 
John chuckles using their still clasped hands to maneuver her into his arms stretching out along the couch comfortably. “I bet they’re really great ties,” he says, pressing a kiss to her temple as she runs her free hand along the bracelet. John notices the little galaxy crystals match perfectly to her white tipped nails. “And I love the cheap shit.” 
Zatanna just hums and John knows she’s already brainstorming gifts in her head for next year. She settles into his arms lifting her free hand roaring the fire back to life and bringing the Christmas record that long went silent back to life quietly. 
They stay there a long time until the fingers running along her bracelet slow down to almost nothing and till both whiskey glasses are empty. Christmas morning slips past them as they sleep away a part of the holiday in each other’s arms. 
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ghouldtime · 3 months ago
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same anon from the cryptid König ask. Person who started the 6’10 thing was his own voice actor (who is already a not so pleasant guy).
anyway. you want cryptid könig ideas? Oh bitch (affectionate) I have plenty.
1) most prolific Austrian folklore dude is of course Krampus, who is a specific character in his own right and holds connections to old pagan folk tradition. Mostly the deal here is about punishing people for being bad. Usually Krampus and the other adjacent folklore creatures of the same ilk (namely the Straggele) are depicted with big horns, shaggy hair and weird eyes. big weird goat dudes. this König would probably be a pretty old spirit. Would be fun if he was the reader’s ‘white whale’ of sorts, trying to get evidence of his existence, while he’s watching on with heart eyes.
2) of course, if we want to go more classic campy paranormal, there’s always classic weird fucked up ghost thing. sort of shadow monster creature style that has solidified into a dude who is definitely a regular guy don’t worry about the mist. The type of paranormal entity who’s creation is more complicated than a regular standard death. maybe his ghost-hunting afterlife is so he can figure out what the hell happened to him. maybe he just thinks it’s funny. don’t worry about the mist.
3) weird shit time. You’ve seen the könig with tentacles under his hood fanart trend I assume, and boy don’t I love a nice dose of eldritch with my monster men. weird shapeshifter sort of vibes. Dude in the woods who has maybe two many arms (it helps with his miniature carving, actually). He’s got most of the being human parts down well and can go to the grocery store. but sometimes he needs a second when sweet human offers to help patch a hole in one of his jumpers (because he might start growing feathers from joy). His eyes are a little too bright sometimes and his shadow a little too long but he’s just a regular guy!
rambling over. im a massive sucker for monsterous men.
Oh really??? Explains it. I mean the 6'10" will always have me laugh it is rlly ridiculous (especially when you see his character model near others)
I, embarrassingly, don't know how I forgot about Krampus. I have like a stuffed animal of him, I was JUST playing Wizard101 winter in summer event where he was there. I have greeting cards with him on it. I'm absolutely going to write that one for SURE in some way shape or form so thanks for the idea 👀
I'm also doing the second for sure. I was trying to figure out what kind of paranormal being he would be and I was thinking some type of shade or shadow creature. A being that lurks in the dark and can just be a glowing pair of eyes or something you see out of the corner of your eye before disappearing??? Sign me the hell UP
I love love love all of these ideas so so so much and I NEED to write them all eventually. They've been added into the queue of future things to do 👀 I can already picture it now
Whoever you are anon, I love your big beautiful brain and THANK YOU for the ideas. 💚💚💚💚 You're always welcome to submit any ideas you have for any monster men of the COD characters and I swear I'll write them
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monstersandmaw · 11 days ago
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ghosti!! with it being the holiday season and krampusnacht right around the corner, do you have any fic recs for that scary and totally not sexy goat man?
I missed this ask, I'm sorry! I don't have any Krampus style monsters (I need to rectify that, don't I!?! but I'm fairly sure the incredible @momolady does?
Feel free to add links/recs in the notes, folks! Get this anon their Krampus fic for a belated Krampusnacht gift...
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