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◤ Yandere Santa Claus x Reader ◢
◤ Christmas Crack Special ◢
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Twice a month, the son of Saint Nicholas Claus would always let his son go around the world to check on little kids on how they were doing. Santa Claus, the name Saint Nick gave to his boy, would check each and every child with his father's assistant, Jacob Grimm, from everywhere in the world to whoever believed and behaved in Saint Nicholas simple rules of being good, then they get a present. If they do not believe his rules, but believe in him, they shall be given a charcoal to light up their cold hearts to warmth.
Santa and Jacob were going around your city. Santa was the merriest when he's in your town. The 13-years-old boy knew your 12-year-old life, but you don't know his life. He knows about how your life is in the orphanage. It's full of unhygienic people, and your instructors were as strict as the royal guards of the United Kingdom. You didn't like it, so you always wished the Saint Nick for a happy family. He pitied your life that he wanted you to join his family. Besides, he was strongly jealous when you thought his father could give you a home instead of him.
Soon, he quietly steps into the window to the bathroom where you were alone and brushing your hair. He sees you struggle with the dirty, yet only hairbrush for the orphans as it was getting your hair tangled. Slowly, he looks at your adorable face that made furious rage and eyes that looked like had red, just like your patched up cheek.
"What happened to the wound?" Santa asks.
You flinch as you look up to the voice.
"W-When did you come here?" you say as you finally untangled your hair from the brush.
He ignores your question and walks up to you. He gently puts his hand on your wounded cheek, but you flinch before he could do anything to it.
"I-I apologize. The day has been rough," you say as you put the brush up, "So why do you come? To check if my body is alive yet again?"
"You always speak the words out of my mouth, my snowflake," Santa says as he kisses your forehead.
You always thought this was a normal friend thing. In the orphanage, you had very little time to make friends due to strict rules. The closest orphan was the littlest child who was just an infant, but soon died just this night.
With a few sniffs Santa heard, he looks down at your face as you start to hug him.
"Snowflake? What happened? Did the instructor tear your face again for the reasons of your rights? Or is it because of the simple mistake fate had to make?"
"I-I suppose," you hiccup, "You must go. I need to come back in night's rest before the instructor alerts me again."
