Danny Phantom Christmas Novels & Stories

Jingle finished last, pulling from her mouth to cum across her tits, white ropes mixing with their saliva on her swollen pink nipples. They collapsed around her, bodies tangled on the rug, the fire's warmth chasing the chill. Santa kissed her forehead, Jingle nuzzled her neck, Frost traced her hip, real men, flawed and fond, in the magic of the night. "Merry Christmas, Dory," Santa murmured, voice thick with emotion. She smiled, spent and throbbing, the fantasy alive in her veins. "Best gift ever."

She opened the door and found Danny, dressed in a festive red suit, standing there. She bought him the outfit. He was wearing a red jacket, red pants, and a red vest. The vest’s shoulder area and jacket’s sleeves were covered in white fur. His outfit gave him a festive look. Danny had red lips, white teeth, and a clear complexion, so the festive outfit suited him very well. Dexie squatted down and said with a surprised expression, “Danny, happy new year.”

"We have waffles. Eggs. Bacon. Fruit. And hot chocolate because the guy downstairs said it's Christmas and the rules don't count." Malaya squealed. Judy's eyes widened on the screen. "Jordan Hall," she said, the stern mom tone trying and failing to hide her happiness. "You got something to say to your mother?" Jordan's throat tightened. "Hey, Mom." "Merry Christmas," Judy said, softer. "Merry Christmas," Jordan echoed. Jerry pointed a finger like a warning. "Don't drop the tray, son." Jordan laughed. "Yes, sir." Malaya ended the call with a bright, "Love you!" and clapped as if she'd completed a mission.

Danny’s sharp inhale signaled his gaining courage to reveal what had been clawing at him since the interview—that he was the new Old Man, Napi. “Uncle, how do you know the gift runs in me, too?” Danny asked, his voice trembling on the edge of disbelief.

“The day people spend with family, loved ones… literally anyone…except a girl whose life exploded twenty-four hours ago.” Something dark flickers in his eyes. “Danny will be out tomorrow.” My heart skips. “How do you know?” He flashes a razor-thin grin. “Trust me. I always know where Danny Westley shows up.” I loosen my grip on his hand. “You don’t mind… spending Christmas doing this? With me?” He scoffs. “Please. Revenge is festive.” “…Thank you.” He leans closer, voice dropping, breath brushing my ear. “Don’t thank me yet, sweetheart. Tomorrow, you’re mine.”

The little one mumbled, "Not to cause you any trouble. If you gets tired, he will go and defeat Superman!" "Defeat Superman?" "Yeah!" Danny nodded vigorously, his eyes rolling around. "Charlotte, can you protect Superman?" ‘I can’t believe these two...’ One dared to speak nonsense and the other believed him. Frank didn’t care about the child’s mental state at all. Seeing that I wasn't speaking, Danny lay on my lap, propping up his hea., "Charlotte, is someone coming to our house? Who is it?" "A man." "A man?" Danny suddenly seemed to catch on to something and asked urgently, "What kind of man? Is he like my uncle or like my daddy?"

Danny's POV The cabin of the car felt like it was shrinking, the air thick with the smell of expensive leather and the terrifying ozone of Chadwick’s rage. I was still holding the burner phone I had snatched from him. "Give me the phone, Danny," he said, his voice a low, vibrating hum that I felt in my teeth. "No!" I shoved it against my chest, right under my silk shirt. "You aren't killing anyone tonight. You are insane and you have a warped sense of humor."

"I'm back with Taren." Taren extended his hand. "It's nice to see you again." "The pleasure is mine," Mr. Cummings replied, shaking his hand. "What can I do for you today?" Taren glanced over at Kiki and then turned back to the man who looked so much like Santa Claus. "Christmas presents." "Christmas is over," he replied. Taren nodded, his lips curling into a smile. "Yes, but we didn't get to celebrate properly, so we're going to make up for it tonight."

I sat down on one of the benches near the tree, taking a deep breath as I dialed Fred’s number. He picked up on the second ring. “Hello, sir. Merry Christmas,” Fred greeted, his voice warm but professional. “Merry Christmas, Fred,” I replied, my mind focused. “I need you to do something for me.” “And what is that, sir?” he asked, a slight curiosity creeping into his tone. “I need you to open a space in one of the department stores. I want to showcase Samantha’s art before New Year’s Eve. I need this done ASAP, before tomorrow afternoon if possible.”

Piper. I gape at him, caught off guard by the arrogance lacing his words. “No,” I snap, recovering. “The CEO got me this dress. Who the hell is Santa anyway? I’ve never heard of such a name.” His grin falters just a little, but he quickly recovers, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Santa,” he repeats, his tone dripping with mockery, “is an Alpha who can grant your every wish. But I suppose if you’d rather believe it was the CEO…”