It was the big night, where papa noël comes to make his annual visit. Papa noël was dubbed; 'the modern Rasputin'. Though his name was Papa noël, in French this meant: Daddy Christmas. This was another name he went by. Oh boy, I can't wait. It's been a while since I've had a little bit of action. I thought to myself. As a single mother of 2, I've had trouble financially supporting my kids and I. This time of year is the worst. My children look up to Papa noël, thinking he'd bring them the gifts and anticipation of what will be under the tree on Christmas Day. It was heartbreaking to see them wish so hard for gifts they'd most likely never receive, I knew Papa noël wasn't real. It was just a French holiday tradition, right? My young offsprings went to bed excited for the day ahead of them, after all, it was Christmas Eve. I sighed as I wished them goodnight and turned away to face our shabby looking Christmas tree displayed in our compact, one person apartment. I made my way to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of my favourite, cheap wine. As pathetic as that sounds, it was a luxury for me. I spent my evening watching re-runs of old Christmas specials from ancient soaps. Oh it's 1:am, I think. I better make my way to bed. As I solemnly undressed myself and got into bed, that's when I heard it. I quickly wrap myself in my dressing gown to rush to the main living area I am met with an usual sight. "Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!" Papa noël?! In MY living room. Out of shock I accidentally loose up my arm leaving my dressing gown to peel open to reveal my old, tight pyjamas that, without realising it, were quite revealing to my athletic body type.
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Daddy Christmas x Fem! Reader
RomancePOV: your a single mum who wants nothing more then her kids to be happy at Christmas and for her to have a good night. So when there's a rumoured modern Rasputin on the loose, you get intrigued. Papa Noël is this people pleasing man. Leaving present...
