#let's get spooky for christmas

[lemonluvgirl]

The Mockingjay Cries at Midnight

So, here I am again with another weird Everlark Christmas-themed story. This time I decided to go way-waaay out of the box and try a Christmas/mystery/thriller. Yeah. I know. Should be fun lol. Very festive. Hope you like the first 2 chapters.

Chapter One: The Journalist and Slippery Slope 

The winding roads were icy and seemingly endless. Not another car was in sight on the lonely stretch of highway he was traveling.  His legs had lost feeling from continuous driving, and his fingers were starting to feel a bit numb too, but not from lack of movement. It was the seeping cold that seemed to pervade everything, despite the heater being turned up to full blast in his old Jeep Cherokee. Bing Crosby’s velvety voice was “Pa-rum, Pum, Pum, Pum,”ing along on the radio, and Peeta Mellark was humming along off-key in a desperate effort to stay awake. 

He had been driving for too long, he knew that, but he was very near reaching his destination. He was used to going to uncomfortable lengths to get the story he was after. He had done this before many times. Wisconsin for instance, he drove 9 hours in the rain to make it to Steven’s Point, and it had been hell on his back but he got there, and he got his story. They had to run second and third prints to keep up with the demand. And in Villa Ridge Missouri, he had to stake out an abandoned stretch of road for two days, but he got the story on that one too. 

This one would be just like all the rest. A little discomfort, a little lost sleep, but ultimately worth it in the long run once he printed a full expose about the mysterious murders that rocked a little no-name town fifty years ago. 

“I am a poor boy too…” His voice warbled tiredly as his eyes searched for the mile marker that would tell him where to turn, but there was a steady sleet building outside and it was getting harder and harder to see in the worsening weather. 

He was looking for number 113 and going by the map he was forced to use after he lost GPS service, it was bound to be around here somewhere. 

“I have no gift to bring, Pa-rum, Pum, Pum, Pum” He had already passed exit 18 aways back. That meant 113 was coming up any minute now. 

“That’s fit to give a—shit!” He caught sight of the reflective marker with the numbers 113 and tried to turn, half a second too late and much too sharp, but the tires couldn’t find purchase on the slick road on such short notice. 

The car started to hydroplane. 

“Fuck, FUCK!” Thinking quickly, he did what all the experts said was best, which was to turn into the spin. 

But he was going too fast. The row of snow covered trees that lined the highway like silent guardians blurred and drew closer in his vision.  

Suddenly he couldn’t remember what was so important that he drove out to the middle of nowhere a few days before Chrsitmas to find. Surely it wasn’t this. A quick and violent end on an icy road with no one who even knew where he was this time of night. 

Only his editor knew where he was headed and she probably wouldn’t report him missing for days. 

All of these thoughts flew into his mind and flew out just as quickly, as fast as the old jeep spun out of control and headed for the treeline. 

The last thing he saw was what looked like a woman. 

A woman in a faded ruffle dress, with long dark hair, standing on the side of the road. Almost close enough to touch. Time seemed to slow-and stop altogether as she held his gaze. She had a sad, forlorn look in her large brown eyes, that were almost pleading with him.  It looked like she was trying to say something, but he couldn’t make it out. It seemed important if the desperate look she was giving him was anything to go by, and he thought that look would be impressed upon him forever should he live past this terrible night. 

Then the car made another revolution, and she was taken out of his sight. 

 Quicker than a blink everything was back to the breakneck speed of reality as the car careened completely out of control. Then there was the sound of breaking glass, the impact of wood on metal, and the sharp flash of pain that radiated through every inch of him. 

And then all was darkness. 

Chapter 2: The Angel with the Permanant Frown 

The beep-beep-beep-beeeep of her minitor almost caused her to knock over her peppermint tea. Almost, but Katniss Everdeen caught the tipping cup at the last second and righted it. She unclipped the mini-monitor on her belt loop, nicknamed ‘minitor’ for short by all the local EMT’s and held it up as the device beeped its special four note tone again. It was the tone reserved for immediately life-threatening situations and it meant she didn’t have a minute to lose. 

She grabbed her truck keys off the top of her desk, tossed on her coat, didn’t bother with her hat or gloves, and threw open the door to the office of the local quick-mart. 

“Sae! I got a call!” She hollered as she rushed past the woman ringing up customers at the counter. 

“This time of night?” The grey haired older woman asked in surprise as Katniss flew by. 

“Rules are whoever gets the call has to head to the garage! Call Darius to cover my shift if you need extra security! Or Rory if need someone to help close up!” She shouted over her shoulder as she ran out, the chime of the bell ringing loudly behind her as the door snicked shut. 

Panem county was one of the smallest counties in the continental United States. The small townships of the Seam, Hob, and Panem Town proper, or just Town, as the locals called it barely drumed up a population of 4,000 residents combined. The only EMTs the county could afford to keep were volunteer ones, and they didn’t have regular shifts or wait at the station like their big-city counter parts. When someone called 911, dispatch paged everyone within a certain radius of the emergency. Special pre-recorded tones caused their minitors to beep loudly, alerting them to the emergency. 

They had different tones for ‘urgent response’, ‘potentially life-threatening’, and ‘immediately life-threatening’ situations. The call she received was the former. Luckily everyone at dispatch knew where to find her on a Tuesday night. 

She usually picked up a couple shifts a week working security down at old Sae’s quick-mart. The nights were long and tedious and she spent the majority of them watching the security cameras in the office on the look out for shop-lifters or teens trying to buy beer with fake IDs. Nothing serious, at least, nothing she couldn’t handle with a stern look and few sharp words. 

But this—this was a not not nothing. She hadn’t had a call this serious…maybe ever. 

Working at Sae’s put her within a mile of the garage so that meant she was going to be one of the first responders to make it there. She needed one other person with her before they could leave, as per the rules. More licsenced EMTs could show up and could ride along but they would have to get there before the ambulance took off. 

Her train of thought refocused as she pulled up to the old garage that housed the only ambulance and two working fire trucks that serviced the entire county. She pulled into the closest spot and hopped out down from her truck, ice crunching beneath her boots as she hurried into the garage. 

She was indeed the first one to arrive and she busied herself with pulling on her EMT uniform, getting the ambulance ready to go, making sure the tires were inflated, and chained properly for ice and snow, and turning on the engine and checking that the tank was full-which it was, thankfully. 

Just as she had finished taking a quick inventory of the medical supplies in the backseat she heard a voice call out from the entrance. 

“Always first to answer the call huh, Catnip?” The voice of her oldest and best friend, Gale Hawthorne rang out clearly amidst the rumble of the ambulance’s engine. Of course he would be the second one to the garage. 

“Early bird, and all that yada yada,” She replied as she shut the back doors and strode out to the front. Gale was already shrugging off his old coat and pulling on his EMT coveralls. 

“Hurry up will ya? Any longer and the stragglers will start to show and then we’ll have to let them ride with.” She shouted as she tossed the keyes to the bus over to him before she pulled open the passenger side and slid in. She didn’t really dislike the other EMTs but her and Gale had been friends and partners for years. They had a system and they knew each other like the backs of their own hands. She preferred working with him if she couldn’t work alone, and adding other EMTs just complicated things. 

Gale caught the keyes smoothly, like she knew he would, and he sent her cocky grin before he followed suit and slid into the driver’s seat. 

“Didn’t think you’d be up for letting me drive.” He commented as he strapped in and adjusted the mirror to fit his above average height.

“I wanna be first out when we get on the scene.” She said quickly as she pulled on her seatbelt and then turned on the ambulance radio. It was programmed to tune into the local police frequency and there was already some chatter going on about an accident out on the highway. 

“‘Course you do.” Gale said with a shake of his head. She ignored him in favor of listening to the information the dispatcher was relaying. 

Katniss’ grey eyes narrowed as she heard more details come through.

Jeep Grand Cherokee 1998 crashed out on the highway—around mile marker 113—One driver spotted inside the vehicle—unconscious

“Hurry your ass up!” She hissed at her partner when she heard the last descriptor. Gale shot her a look, but she didn’t even glance at him. She was staring ahead at the road that waited outside the garage as if she could will herself onto it faster. Without further prodding Gale flipped the lights and the ambulance siren on with a flick of his fingers and then they were off, practically peeling out of the garage in the next second. Under different circumstances she might have chewed him out for reckless driving but the roads were practically abandoned tonight and they needed to get on the scene fast. 

Besides, she couldn’t shake the antsy feeling she had since she’d gotten the call. There was something inside of her that was telling her that she just needed to get there as soon as possible. 

The drive out to the highway usually took fifteen minutes. Gale got them there in nine. 

The ambulance finally came to a stop just a few yards past the mile 113 marker. 

Up ahead she could make out the mangled up shape of a jeep that had gone head to head with an old spruce and lost. Unfortunately they weren’t in an ideal position to get the injured party inside the ambulance unless Gale repositioned the vehicle. 

“Hey you said you wanted to be first on the scene.” Gale replied with a shrug as he moved to undo his seatbelt. Katniss shook her head at him. 

“Stay put and back this thing up properly. Doors first!” She bit out tersely as she undid her belt and cracked open her door. She hopped down and shut the door closed on Gale’s complaints, ignoring him completely as she pulled her EMT pack higher on her shoulder and started to march forward. 

Sleet was still coming down heavily, and the road was slippery under her boots but her feet pulled her forward as quickly and surely as a lodestone is drawn to a magnet. 

Before she knew it she was right outside the driver side door, looking in on the man who had been behind the wheel. His face was turned toward her and she could distinguish his featured clearly. 

He was young, maybe in his late twenties, early thirties, he had ashy blond hair that fell in waves over his forehead. She could tell one other thing about him immediately by just looking—he was damn lucky. 

The airbag in his car had properly deployed, from her vantage point she could see the steady rise and fall of his chest. He was knocked unconscious, but not dead. The airbag and the seatbelt he was wearing had most likely saved his life, even though he drove an older model jeep and that sometimes meant that air bags didn’t always work like they should. The only visible injury she could see on him was a gash on his forehead. 

She needed to get him out of the car though, so she could assess the rest of him, check his torso and legs, but he looked kind big. Not as tall as Gale, but broad and stocky, with wide shoulders that were going to be a bitch to manover out of the mashed up wreck of his car if she guessed correctly. 

She tried tapping on his window to get his attention. It would be easier to move him if he was conscious, also he could unlock the doors instead of them having to shatter the window or the windshield and pull him out. But the man in the car didn’t stir. She tapped louder, as she noticed the car’s radio was amazingly still going and it was still playing music. 

Very familiar music. 

Earth stood hard as iron

Water like a stone

Snow had fallen

Snow on snow on snow

In the bleak midwinter

Long, long ago

The version playing was a little known and even less played solo sung by a local artist. It brought back the sounds and stories of her childhood. It brought back the knife edge of pain and loss. That beautiful, effortless voice that sailed over the notes and floated down to mesh with the music was a sound so steeped in memory that for a moment she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, she was so caught off guard. 

Then there was a pop and a whoosh, the sound of the air bag deflating, and with it the radio sputtered out and died. The disturbance finally seemed to arouse the unconscious driver. 

The bluest eyes she’d ever seen blinked open and locked on her. She stood there staring right back at him, caught up in the bizareness of the situation. 

Then her training kicked in. 

She knocked on the window again and said in her most stern but calm voice, “Sir, you’ve been in an car accident. I need you to unlock your door and roll down the window so I can help you.” 

The man stared at her, in confusion for a second, but then his left hand reached out to do as she had asked. The first thing he said to her when the window came down was not what she was expecting. 

“Am I dead? Are you an angel? Do all angels frown like that?”

#thg #everlark #fanfiction #lemonluvwrites #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #writing #the hunger games #mystery prompt #mystery thriller #christmas #christmas mystery thriller #I answered my own prompt #everlark fanfiction #modern au #investigation #murder mystery #investigative journalist peeta #EMT Katniss #let's get spooky for christmas #lucy gray baird #lucy gray murder mystery

[writeouswriter]

Too much capitalism in Christmas and not enough in Halloween, companies need to start slapping little bats and pumpkins back onto their packaging asap

#halloween #there's already christmas stuff in the stores and i feel empty inside #no houses have halloween decor up this year it's wild how much interest in it is in decline #the tv isn't playing anything for halloween either like hello hello i saw a hallmark christmas movie playing last halloween illegal #no effort in trying to sell me their things at halloween anymore #like there's nothing going on for it pringles already has elves on their chip cans get them outta here! #let me buy spooky little trinkets i don't need! please please please come back bestie halloween #maybe it's just a here thing

[herlittlebunnyboy]

Alright, who forgot to turn off the fog machine? It's looking like Silent Hill outside!

#little bit spooky #holloween was a month and a half ago #just one more reason to stay in bed #my weighted blanket didnt want to let me get up #Christmas in Silent Hill #bunny thoughts

[500-moths-in-a-trenchcoat]

for the new year, i have decided to make a couple edits and additions to the almighty Calendar. happy 2024.

IT JUST HAPPENS

DAY 15 GIVE IT UP FOR DAY 15

Thursday the 20th

The Fifth of Wednesday

Second Week of May: Eurovision

Sometime in June: That One Halloween Post Starts Circulating

Sometime in July: Dancing Pumpkin Man Video/Gif

WEEKLY EVENTS (at least the ones i celebrate)

Every Monday: Garfield Hates Mondays

Every Tuesday: Tom Servo Tuesday

Every Wednesday: It Is Wednesday My Dudes

Every Thursday: Out of Touch Thursday

Every Friday: Flat Fuck Friday

Every Saturday: Sea Slug Saturday

Every Sunday: Energy Sword Sunday

YEARLY EVENTS

January 1: Copyright Expiration Day

January 8: Spiders Georg Day

January 16: Appreciate a Dragon Day

January 18: Bug Race

January 29: Threshold Day

All of February: Funguary

ALSO All of February: Femslash February

February 3: WOE, VANILLA EXTRACT BE UPON YE

February 13: Galentines Day

February 14: Aromantic/Asexual Day

March 9: Miku Day

March 10: Mario Day

March 14: Pi Day

March 15: Ides of March

March 23: Ever Given Got Stuck Today

April 1: Mishapocalypse

April 2: Dashcon Announcement Anniversary

April 3: Dannypocalypse

April 8: Rex Manning Day

ALSO April 8: MARGARET THATCHER IS DEAD

April 13: Neil Banging Out The Tunes

ALSO April 13: Homestuck Day

April 20: haha 420 blaze it

April 25: The Perfect Date

April 28: Ed Balls Day

April 30: It's Gonna Be May

All of May: Mermay

May 3: Beginning of Dracula Daily

May 4: May the 4th Be With You

May 5: Revenge of the Fifth

May 25: The Glorious 25th of May

All of June: Pride Month

ALSO All of June: IT'S HALLOWEEN TIME TO GET SPOOKY

June 5: Barricade Day

ALSO June 5: RONALD REAGAN IS DEAD

June 12: Another Homestuck Day

June 16: Let Papyrus Say Fuck

June 22: Summerween

All of July: Disability Pride Month

July 13-15: Dashcon Anniversary

July 20: Moon Landing

September 8: The Queen Is Dead and Sans Undertale Killed Her

September 11: Mole Interest Monday

September 19: Talk Like A Pirate Day

September 21: DO YOU REMEMBER-

All of October: SKELETON WAR

ALSO All of October: People Draw A Lot Month? (so many names)

October 3: Mean Girls Day

ALSO October 3: Fullmetal Alchemist Day

October 13: Treat Yo' Self

October 20: Unnecessary Feelings Day

October 31: HALLOWEEN

November 5: honestly what didn't happen that day

November 19: Goncharov

November 29: HENRY KISSINGER IS DEAD

All of December: Will the Gävle Goat Get Destroyed Again?

December 10: Please, It's Christmas

December 12: Hawaii Part 2

December 23: Christmas Adam

December 24: ALMOST CHRISTMAS MEANS IT WASN'T CHRISTMAS

ALSO December 24: Cabinet Man Day

December 27: Porn Ban Effective Today

#there's definitely more but i'm not versed enough in this #tumblr holidays #add more in the tags/comments please #look i'm trying my best here i've been on tumblr for just over a year at this point #tumblr #tumblr calendar #it's complete. now i may rest. #holidays

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

I don't get people that celebrate holidays early, like Halloween is in OCTOBER and Christmas is in DECEMBER what are you TALKING ABOUT-

#I say this as somebody who dedicates those entire months to their respective holidays but still #how does it not get old for yall??? #Im just gonna let the algorithm decide the fate of this one cuz idk what to tag- #christmas in july #spooky season #I guess

[lovelettersfromluna]

After Dark

Summary: It’s a universal rule that every ghost face at a Halloween party is hot underneath. Let’s test that theory, shall we?

an: AHHH OKAY! Lemme explain. I made a post about participating in kinktober, and while a lot of you wanted me to, I feel like it’s too late for me to properly participate. HOWEVER, I still want to give you something to kick off the weekend! Something spooky AND smutty for all my ghouls out there. I hope you’re all having a good Halloweekend! Pls stay safe and have lots of fun, I’m sure you all have the cutest costumes planned! Also, I took a different approach to reader, so let me know how you guys like her!! 🖤🖤 p.s I was drunk when I wrote this :p

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+, MDNI, porn with no plot, strap-on sex, mentions of the word “cock”, mask kink, alcohol usage, mentions of latex, riding, cliche house party trope, slight sugar mommy!ellie if you squint??, lmk if I missed anything!

Out of all of three hundred and sixty five days of the year, today was your favorite.

Today was the one day within the year that there weren’t really any rules. You could wear anything, be whoever you wanted, and it was socially acceptable to get drunk while doing so, and there was no way in hell you would ever pass up on that.

No matter the circumstances, you were invited to a Halloween party. Whether it was some cheesy bash that was being thrown at a friend of a friends house, or a more upscale party, you were going out.

And you always looked damn good doing so.

You were always praised on your costumes, every year it was expected of you to top what you did the last, so there was no doubt in the fact that you were putting in maximum effort year after year.

This year? You stuck with one of the classics of course. The devil.

You were dripping in skin tight latex, the black corset you wore that pushed your boobs out perfectly, your soft skin nearly spilling out of the tight top, the tight booty shorts that hugged the globes of your ass, your cheeks peeking out, the gloves that hugged your arms, and the thigh high socks that shined under the moonlight, everything you wore was that delicious shiny material that made you look almost unreal.

And underneath it all? You had painted your entire body red, paired with fake red horns peeking out of your pretty hair.

So yeah, you were almost always crowned as the queen of Halloween.

This year was no different, halloweekend had been kicked off with quite the everything shower, making sure your body was in perfect condition for everything you’d be attending. You had gotten ready with your friends at your apartment, getting a few shots in before making it to the biggest party of the year. Everyone looked forward to it, putting together their best costumes for the party at the house that almost everyone died to get into.

Walking down the streets of the city on Halloween was like Christmas, various characters from movies and cartoons cheering, dancing, all social barriers that were put up every other day of the year were down, the veil being lifted for one night that allowed anything to be game.

The amount of whistles you and your friends received on your way there was almost appalling, not to mention the amount of people who told you they’d let you torture them any day. You thought that was cute.

Soon enough, the sounds of the party were near, and you could see the red lights spilling out of the big house in the middle of the block, and you knew it was time.

Eyes were on you immediately, and it made you giggle as you scoped out the food group that was there tonight. Of course you knew they’d stare, drool over you with their mouths open, begging for just a moment of your time.

But you were a very picky girl.

Ignoring their advances was like second nature, all you had to do, was shake your ass, drink some free liquor, and wait for the perfect person to take up your time for the night.

And as always, that never took long for you.

Your hips swayed to the music, eyes closed as you enjoyed one of the best parts of parties. The alcohol you drank made your body warm up in the best way, made every touch on your body feel so much more intense, all while numbing out everything else. It made you feel alive, it made you raise your arms above your head and simply let the music move you.

It was only a moment, your eyes drifting open to make sure your friend was still in front of you, and you’re sure if you hadn’t, you would’ve missed it.

Across the room, stood a tall figure. She wore a loose black t shirt, baggy black jeans, black boots….

And a ghost face mask.

The figure was turned towards you, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup clasped between a hand, a pretty tattoo bleeding into it. Anyone else would have seen it, and thought that whoever it was, was extremely fucking creepy. Everyone knew that ghost face was one of the creepiest people you could choose to be for Halloween ever.

But it just so happened, that you’ve always had a thing for masked killers.

Although you couldn’t see the eyes of the person behind the mask, you could feel them, and it made you burn from the inside. You bit your bottom lip softly, throwing back the rest of the alcohol in your cup before you turned your body more towards them, giving them a good view of your body. You began dancing, putting on a show for them, your glove glad hands running up and down your body, your neck, your boobs, your waist, practically having sex on the dance floor with yourself, all for this stranger who was most definitely watching you.

You feel like you have x-ray vision, because although you can’t see her face, you can see the way she grips her cup tighter whenever you sway your hips, turning around to give her a nice view of your ass. You see the way she shifts her weight onto her other foot whenever your hand runs over the curve of your tits. When you really know you’ve got her, is when you rest your hands on your friends hips, and pull her into your crotch, your eyes never leaving the ghost face mask. You know you’ve got her because she sets her cup down, raises her long, skinny fingers, and silently calls you over before she makes her way down one of the hallways in the house.

And suddenly, a game of cat and mouse begins.

You almost never chase anyone at a party, you’re always the one that’s being chased. However, there’s something about this ghost face. There’s an aura radiating off of her, one that’s dripping of lust, screaming at you, telling you she’s got exactly what you need, exactly what you’re looking for during these stupid Halloween parties.

So you break your little streak, and as soon as she calls you, you’re following her.

The house is lit up with all different colors, the kitchen was purple, the living room was pink, everywhere you turned was another tinted space that fit the Halloween vibe perfectly.

As you look around for your ghost face, you can’t help but huff softly. It almost feels as if she’s disappeared into thin air, as if the alcohol in your system made you hallucinate the entire thing. You begin to question yourself, a soft pout on your lips as you make your way down the final place to look for her.

But of course, you finally find her leaned up against one of the hallways, and of course it’s completely lit up red.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you smile, making you way towards her. Once you’re standing in front of her, you expect her to take off the mask, show her who it is that’s hiding behind that silly mask.

But she doesn’t

You giggle softly, your hand toying with the hem of her shirt as you stare up at her with big doe eyes.

“You gonna show me the pretty face you’re hiding under that mask?” You purr out, and the ghost face simply shakes her head. It makes you pout, tugging at her shirt gently as you lean into her a bit, but still keeping your body a ways away from hers.

“But…how am I supposed to talk to you if I can’t see you” you whine, hoping that this little pouty act will get you what you want. It usually does, but this ghost face seems far too stubborn for that. She simply cocks her head to the side, as if clicking her tongue and mocking your pout.

It makes your pussy flutter with need.

She hasn’t even said anything to you, but you’re already squeezing your legs together, eager for some kind of friction to soothe the ache between your legs, your lips rubbing together with the arousal that grew with each passing second.

You hum softly, your latex clad fingers running down her arm, reaching her tattoo and tracing the pattern gently.

Hm…you don’t recall that one.

She gives you her arm with ease, allowing you to see her tattoo, that makes you smile softly.

“This is pretty…” you hum before you look back up at her, biting your plush bottom lip softly. “Are there anymore for me to find?” You question, giving her a playful smile. This one gets her, because you can hear the way her breath shudders, see the way her chest rises and falls for a moment.

She’s right where you want her.

You hum softly, your hand slowly coming up to the mask, eyeing her closely as you gently begin pushing it up, eager to see her face. You flinch when she grabs your wrist, stopping you from lifting it up any further. You pout again, it��s genuine this time, not like before. A soft huff leaves your lips before you open your mouth to complain, tell the girl that if she doesn’t want to show you her face, you’ll leave to find someone else who will.

But before you can, you’re being tugged into a random bedroom.

Upon entering, you can see why this place is the spot was so popular for parties. The rooms are clean, and the host went as far as to decorate them accordingly, the same red lights from the hallway lighting up the place. If you weren’t so hellbent on getting fucked by the ghost face, you’d most certainly be gushing over what a wonderful party host this was.

Your thoughts are completely cut off by strong arms wrapping around your waist, and pulling you into an even stronger chest. It makes you moan softly, your head falling back against her chest. You feel her strong hands running up and down your latex clad body, squeezing your hips, your boobs, running along your thighs. You can hear her breathing behind you, and you can almost hear the sweet tone of her voice through it.

You let out a small whine, one of your hands coming down to lay over hers, keeping her close to you. “Wanna play with you…” you hum softly, it makes your ghost face groan, her hands squeezing your plush body before she turns you around, and pushes you onto the soft bed.

It makes you giggle softly, your hands running along the soft sheets as you watch her. She looks like a god above you, standing so tall, the ghostly mask almost haunting as she eats you up with her eyes, head cocked to the side as you lazily smile up at her.

You move to prop yourself up onto your hands, palms pressing into the bed, your legs spreading for her. “So…you’re leaving the mask on, huh? Does that make me the helpless victim?” You pout out, holding back a giggle as you recite the lines from the movie the mask came from. It earns a slow nod from your ghost face, and you have to hold back a moan.

“Well…please play with me ghost face…I wanna be yours tonight” you purr out, your body sitting up as you reach forward, your fingers snagging around the belt loop of her jeans and pulling her closer.

You hear a soft sigh from behind the mask, and it almost sounds like she’s suffering, like she’s torturing herself just as much as she’s torturing you by not touching you yet. Her strong hand slowly comes up, cupping your chin gently and angling your head up, her thumb dragging across your bottom lip. You moan softly, kissing her finger gently, it makes her groan again.

She slowly moves down, bending down until her hands are pushed against the bed, caging you in. It makes you crawl backwards, a soft whimper leaving your lips. When she’s this close, backing you up onto the bed, you can catch a glimmer of her eyes beneath the mesh material of the eyes of the ghost. You can see her long lashes, and big green eyes. It makes your pussy throb desperately.

Because fuck, you’ve never seen eyes that pretty before.

You almost done catch her hands reaching down between you, pushing into the tight material of your latex shorts, fingers pressing against your soaked core. You’re so desperate for her, that the small act makes you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as you grind your hips against her fingers. You can tell she’s skilled just by the way she fingers your clit and rubs you slowly, the right fabric of your shorts making it an even tighter fit.

“Fuck…” you hear softly from behind the mask, and it’s the first time you’ve properly heard her voice, it makes you feel like you can cum right then and there.

You blink softly as you stare into her eyes, watching her as she slowly toys with your pussy, making you whine and moan for her from the small motions of her fingers.

“Mmpph…feels…fuck…your fingers…” you moan softly, feeling yourself growing close just from the way she rubbed your throbbing clit. Your hand goes down to her tattooed arm, grabbing it as she begins to speed up. You whine loudly, your back arching as you grind in tow with her movements, and fuck…you’re so close, you feel like you’re going to explode just from a stranger finger fucking you.

And suddenly, her fingers are gone.

“W-what? Why’d you…why’d you stop” you whimper softly while trying to catch your breath, watching as your ghost face began to tug your shorts off. You whine softly with embarrassment, watching as she silently tugged your shorts off, a string of your arousal connecting you to your shorts. You can’t remember the last time you were this wet.

Your ghost face groans softly, mumbling something under her breath that you don’t quite catch. You open your mouth to say something, but you’re quickly being tugged up into her arms as she lays down on the bed.

Now you’re straddling her lap, your bare core dragging along her jeans as her strong hands massage your thighs. You whine softly, because you can feel the prominent bulge pressing against you through her pants. Her hands go to your hips, forcing you to grind your soaking wet pussy against her crotch, your arousal staining her black jeans, making you burn from the inside out.

You moan loudly, your hands pressing against her lower stomach as you watch the way she slowly grinds you down on her as she pleases. You’re eager, so you’re already undoing her belt and unbuttoning her jeans. You almost expect her to stop you, but she doesn’t, and you’re pulling out her pink strap, the length of it making your mouth water.

If you weren’t so fucking horny, the color would’ve made you giggle, but there’s no time for that. You tug her jeans down a bit more, to which she lifts her hips up to help you, and you begin to crawl up her body slightly until you’re hovering over her length, her hand grabbing the shaft as she runs it along your lips, getting it wet with your arousal before she helps you sink down on it.

The moan you both let out is past pornography, the weight of you pushing down her strap rubs against her clit perfectly, and she’s sure she’s never experienced someone riding her so fucking well. The sound of her pretty voice makes you want to cry, because she’s been teasing you so much that you’ll take just about anything she gives you. You begin to bounce on her length slowly, adjusting to her size, your hands pressed against her chest to act as leverage.

“Oh my…fucking god….mmmhhh…a-ah!” You moan out, eyes fluttering shut as you ride her, back arching as your hands go up into your hair, tugging on it, needing somewhat of an outlet to release the pleasure you were feeling. Your senses were on overload, and you weren’t sure if it was the build up of not knowing who the hell you were fucking, or if it was truly that good, but you’re sure you’ve never had a fuck this good in your entire life.

“Fuck…that’s a good fucking girl…bouncing on my cock so well…yeah…that’s it” the voice makes you moan loudly, your eyes opening immediately. She sounds perfect, her voice low and smooth, strong hands gripping your thighs for a moment before they come down on your ass, spanking you hard and making you moan even louder.

You can practically hear the smirk in her voice when she speaks, her voice dripping with lust as you fuck your self down onto her cock. “Haven’t even seen my face and you’re doing all of this for me…treating me special, pretty girl?” She hums out before moaning loudly with you. You can’t help but nod, slowly feeling yourself becoming dumb on her cock.

“S’good…feels so good…I’ll do anything for you” you moan out almost incoherently, saying just about anything that comes to mind in that moment.

As you continue bouncing on her cock, the motions of it all makes her mask come up a bit, and you catch a glimpse of her plush pink lips tugged beneath her pretty teeth. It makes you whine softly, and you realize you can’t fucking do this anymore.

You reach forward, your hand going to the edge of the mask, and you tug it off of her head.

You feel like you’ll lose your breath, keel over and die at that very moment when you see her, because she’s so fucking pretty. Her brown hair is so messy, soft fringe splayed across her face, prettiest freckles littering her red cheeks, those same green eyes staring into yours, pretty lips tugging into a smirk when she sees the way your eyebrows furrow with pleasure, knowing that it was her face that made you feel that way.

“Just couldn’t wait, could you?” She smirks softly, her words followed by a soft groan, hands traveling up your body and gripping your boobs that were nearly completely spilled out of your top.

“Want you to cum for me, princess…can you do that? Cum all over my cock?” She urges on, her words cut off by various moans as you continue fucking yourself down on her. You want to speak, but you can’t, so all you do is nod eagerly and give her a loud moan, feeling the familiar warmth building up in the pit of your stomach, electricity traveling through your body.

Ellie moans with you, her eyes never leaving yours as she gives you an encouraging nod. “That’s it baby…such a pretty fucking girl…been watching you all night…knew I needed to…fuck…have you…come on baby…cum for me” she commands, and you feel like you’ll turn into jelly just from the way she tells you to do it, so stern, your legs felt like they could no longer hold you up, shaking as your back arched almost painfully, and your orgasm raked through your body.

It was electrifying, the feeling of her cock sliding so deep into you, your walls fluttering around it as you came, her hands gripping your hips tightly as she pushed even deeper into you, her own orgasm visibly washing over her as she pushed her head further into the bed, eyes squeezing shut, curse words flying from her pretty lips.

You both sat there for a moment, Ellie sitting up and pressing her face against your chest as she held you close, hands rubbing against your thighs, soft kisses against your boobs, giving both you and herself a moment to collect yourselves after the intense session you’d just had.

After a few moments passed, you pouted softly as you looked down at the bed and noticed some of the red body paint had smeared onto the bed.

“Fuck…you don’t think the host will be mad about that…do you?” You mumbled softly, trying to avoid the embarrassment you felt at the fact that your fucking costume had ended up screwing you over.

Ellie chuckled softly as she looked down at the bed, humming softly as she pressed another kiss to your chest before she pulled you down to lay down with her, having every intention of keeping you there until enough people left, and you could both go for a shower.

“Nah…I don’t mind” she smirked softly, knowing she’d most definitely be making sure the sheets were changed for you both in the morning.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

[yoonguurt]

Summary: Christmas this, Christmas that. The “Most wonderful time of the year” is not how Y/N would describe it. Sure, it used to be a magical time full of happiness and love, but she let that belief go years ago. Christmas is all about how much money you spend on someone and making yourself look good to outsiders. Snow is wet and everything is cold during this time of year, makes everything gross. Her best friend is tired of having The Grinch as a roommate, especially when he remembers what it was like when she loved Christmas. This year, he finally decides that it’s time to bring the magic back into her life. Maybe that magic will bring a little love with it.

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Word Count:9,603

Genre/themes/au: fluff, smut, a tiny bit of angst; friends to lovers, roommates to lovers; it's a Christmas fic, yall.

Warnings: parental abandonment, masturbation(f), unprotected sex(NO! BAD!), fingering, oral (f rec), daddy kink (it just kind of happened ok), allusion to a hand kink but I didn't really act on it. I think that's it, but let me know if i missed something. My work is 18+ minors are not tolerated here. Be gone, child.

Walking through the front door, the sound of Christmas music and the blinking of festive lights hits your senses immediately. ‘God dammit, Chris. It's literally the 1st.’ You love having your best friend as a roommate, you really do, but his holiday spirit is not something you enjoy at this moment. 

When he goes all out for New Year's? All good. Valentine's Day? Fuck yeah, let's it chocolate. Halloween? Yes bitch, let's get spooky. But Christmas? It's a no from you. That's where you draw the line. 

His voice floats through your ears as he sings along to whatever annoying song is on. ‘At least it's not All I Want For Christmas is You.’ The beautiful tone of his soft singing almost brings you out of your grumpy mood. Almost. You love his voice, it does things to you. It makes you happy and relaxed. It also turns you on, but he doesn't need to know that. If it weren't for the fact that he's so into this damn holiday, everything would be perfect. 

“You're letting the heat out. And stop looking so mad, you knew this was coming.” His words draw you from your thoughts and you squint your eyes at him in a glare. By the bright smile on his face, he obviously doesn't care about your death stare. You toss your backpack aside, kicking your shoes off with a sigh. It’s been a long day of classes and assignments and you really just want to sit on the couch and watch true crime.

Chris has a pep in his step as he walks to the couch, throwing himself down on the cushions and opening his arms wide. He knows what you want, of course he knows. He tilts his head toward the spot beside him, a soft smile replacing the beaming one he had when you walked in. Your feet shuffle across the carpet as you make your way to him, promptly plopping down next to him and letting him wrap his arms around you.

Chris is your person. He may not have been in your life from the start, but the 2 years he has been has solidified his place for years to come. He's your best friend, sometimes you think he may even be your soulmate, but you don't have the courage to tell him just how deep in you are for him.

You met Chris in freshman year of college, having shared the first class of the semester together. You had taken the seat next to you, immediately giving you the beautiful smile he seems to almost always have. Now, you are in no way a shy person, not even close, but being the focus of his wide smile never fails to bring a blush to your cheeks. It's been like that since day one, you're just better at hiding it now. 

One class turned into three that semester and the two of you clicked immediately. He's a bit more outgoing than you are, but not by a whole lot. He just has an aura of comfort and it reeled you in and you haven't been able to get rid of him sense, not that you want to, anyway. You're down bad. 

At the beginning of sophomore year, the two of you opted for getting an apartment together rather than staying in the dorms. It just made more sense that way. You got to live off campus with your best friend, and you had someone to split the rent with. 

The sound of a movie beginning to play on the tv jolted you from your thoughts. Eyes flicking up to the screen, a groan immediately left your throat without much thought. A hand rubbing up and down your back reminded you of the comforting presence beside you. “A Christmas movie? Really, Chris?” You can feel his mood shift and you’re filled with a small amount of guilt. You know he loves Christmas, he loves holidays in general, but Christmas always puts him in a particular cheery mood. But he also knows how much you detest the holiday. But then again, he has always been willing to do things he hates just because it’s something you want to do. 

The weight of his arm disappears from your body and your head snaps up to face him. ‘Great. I’ve finally pushed him into anger.’ You know that he isn’t angry with you, but the little voice in your head can’t help but override your rationality. The two of you sit in silence for a while, both of you focusing on the images flickering across the tv screen. You’re not as much focusing on the movie as just having a place for your eyes to land. You can tell that Chris is in thought, he’s unusually quiet. There is a tension in the air, thick with guilt and worry. 

By the time the movie is, what you assume, half way through, Chris reaches forward to press the pause button on the remote. The scene stops in the middle of a conversation and the looks on the characters’ faces brings a small snort from your nose. It’s always been a game between the two of you. Someone pauses a movie or show randomly, trying to find the best funny face someone on screen is making. You turn to the man beside you, ready to talk about the game, only to see how serious his face is. 

“I’m not going to ask why you hate Christmas so much, I already know that.” The mention of the reason for your Grinch-like attitude makes you wince, though you try to hide it. That obviously doesn’t work because a warm hand finds its way back around your shoulders, giving a squeeze of reassurance. “But I am going to ask that you do me a favor.” Your heart races at his words. You give him a nod, letting him know that you’re listening. “Give me until Christmas Eve to change your opinion.”

That is not what you were expecting. You thought he’d ask you to keep your holly jolly hating thoughts to yourself. You had no idea how he even thought he could change your mind. Hating Christmas had been a part of you since before you met Chris. It wasn’t your whole personality, that would be awful, but it was well known amongst your friends that you and Christmas didn’t get along. Chris was one of the only people in your friend group that knew the exact reason. You love your friends and as much as you trust them, you don’t want to deal with the looks. You had worried about that when you told Chris, but he hadn’t looked at you like other people would have. Of course he hadn’t. He was Chris. He was perfect.

“What do you mean?” You mentally rolled your eyes at yourself, it felt like a dumb question. Your best friend’s gaze held no anger, and didn't make you feel stupid for asking. He just gave you a soft smile, his hand coming to push your hair behind your ear. “Give me 23 days to make Christmas a happy time for you again. Three weeks. We’ll do two small things a week, and one big thing on the weekend. Today is Friday, so the first big activity can be tomorrow. There are two more weekends between now and Christmas Eve. The last big thing will be on Christmas Eve. If your thoughts on the holiday aren’t changed by midnight on Christmas Day, I’ll tone down the holiday cheer next year. Deal?”

“Alright.” You can see that he senses the hesitancy in your voice, but he doesn't say anything. Just reaches his hand out towards you, waiting for you to take it in a handshake. ‘This is certainly going to be interesting.’ You have no idea what he could possibly have planned, but you're curious.

You slept in the next morning, which felt amazing. You honestly expected Chris to wake you up early for his big adventure, but you were damn glad he didn't. Taking your time in getting up, you finally crawl out of bed to brush your teeth before emerging from your room. Your first stop would be the kitchen, you need coffee. As soon as you hit the end of the hallway, a mug sat on the counter, still steaming. You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips at the sight. 

Chris had made a habit of setting your coffee out for you before he went to the gym. It was a small thing, but it always made your heart skip. Now that he wasn't home, you could let yourself stew in your feelings. You aren't sure when your feelings for him had changed, you just knew that they had.

Maybe it was last month when he had stayed up all night taking care of you when you had the flu. Maybe it was last year when your boyfriend had broken up with you and he had made a blanket fort in the living room and watched Disney movies with you. Perhaps it was a month after starting school and you had to miss a week of class, only to come back to a set of notes he had taken for you. You couldn't be certain.

You bumble around the apartment, looking for things to do. You had to admit, even though you hate Christmas and anything to do with it, you were excited to see what Chris had planned. You doubted he could actually change your mind, but it was better to not tell him that.

Thinking back to your life before Chris, your thoughts landed on the reason you hate this goddamn holiday. Your father. Waking up on Christmas morning only to find him nowhere in sight and your mother in shambles. You were sixteen. He had left a note explaining that he had found a new life, one that didn't include you or your mother. Prick. That had solidified your hatred. You struggled to pick up the pieces of your mother’s broken heart, and after a while you had succeeded, but there was still a void.

She had eventually remarried once you had gone off to school, and while she was happy with the way her life turned out, you were still angry. Still hurt. Still hated Christmas. You love your stepfather dearly, but the memory of that shitty Christmas morning still reigns supreme. 

The jingling of keys brought you out of your angry thoughts. The door opened and there was your best friend, the object of your unknown affections. He was still sweaty from his intense workout. ‘Fuck. He really is going to give me a heart attack one of these days.’ Your stomach was doing flips. He looked so good. Biting your lip, you admire him for a moment longer before calling out to him.

“Thanks for the coffee.” He turns to you, eyes wide, obviously startled. You suppress a giggle, knowing it would only make him pout at your amusement. “No need for thanks, pretty girl.” There goes your stomach again, your heart joining its waltz of emotion. Pet names aren't a new thing for him, it's something he's done for months now, but it still affects like it had the very first time. 

“So, what's the big activity you have planned?” You watch as he kicks off his shoes, making sure to place them neatly on the shoe rack you keep next to the door. He tsks at you as he makes his way to stand in front of you. “Nope. Not a chance. It's a surprise.” An immediate pout comes across your face, causing a loud laugh from the man in front of you. Your pout only deepens. Before you realize what is happening, Chris reaches forward, squishing your cheeks in his hand and leaning closer. “No pouting. I'm gonna shower and we can go.” He lets go of your face and leans back, smirking a bit as he turns and walks down the hall. “Make sure to wear something warm!” His loud voice rings out through the apartment, and you sigh, getting up to go get dressed.

This is not what you expected. To be fair, you don't really know what you expected, but an ice skating rink wasn't it. Chris must be able to see the confusion on your face, because he laughs and reaches for your hand. “Ice skating is an important part of the holiday season.” This is news to you. 

His hand doesn't leave yours as he pulls you towards the small building that houses the skate rentals. After a moment of waiting in line, you step up to the counter, pulling your wallet out to pay. “The hell do you think you're doing?” Chris has a serious face as he looks at you with furrowed brows. “Paying?” You didn't mean for your words to come out as a question. He shakes his head adamantly, gently pushing your arm back. ‘Should have known. Always has to pay.’ Every time he does this, your mind briefly wonders if you're on a date, but you always shake that thought away. 

Stepping onto the ice is always a little scary. It's not like you've never gone ice skating, but you always feel a bit rusty after not going for a while. You watch as Chris glides around the rink once before making his way back to you. He's so graceful as he skates. It's like there's nothing he can't do. His arms reach out towards you as he comes closer, beckoning you to start moving in his direction. 

Both of his hands clasp yours, pulling you into his chest. Despite the temperature, he's warm. He's always so damn warm. You pull your head back to look up at him, his eyes already focused on you. Getting lost in his eyes is so easy. It's like second nature. Your gazes stay locked for what feels like forever before you break the contact first, both visually and physically. 

As you shuffle backwards on your skates, you notice Chris drop his arms to his side. You're looking at your feet so you don't notice the disappointment that crosses his face. You turn, slowly skating off, trying to get the hang of it again. 

Chris joins you only a second later, giving you a slight nudge. “Wanna race?” He's wearing his signature smile, an eyebrow cocked. This is a bad idea. You know this is a bad idea. That doesn't stop you at all. “You're on!” You're moving forward before you finish the sentence.

“Are you ok?” Uninjured, yes. Mortified, also yes. Chris helps you off of the ice as you nod. You got too confident. He had been closing in on you almost immediately. Then, a child moved into your path. Down on your ass you went. “Need to step off the ice for a minute?” You give him an affirmative, you just need a little bit of a breather. 

The two of you step off the ice, not even bothering to take your skates off, you don't plan to be off the ice long. Chris walks you to a bench, making sure you're sat and comfortable before he walks away. He doesn't speak before he leaves, leaving you confused. You watch his back as the distance between you greatens, watching him stop and a tiny stand at the edge of the area.

He comes back with two cups in his hands, handing one to you. “Hot chocolate?” He nods, giving you a big smile, and the butterflies fly away again. “Figured it'd help warm you up, since, y’know, you ate shit and now your ass is cold.” His tone is teasing and a smirk plays on his lips. You give him a playful shove, telling him to shut up and his laughter fills the air. “Gonna need a massage?” His eyebrows wiggle and you almost spit the drink out. Once you finish your drink, he grabs your hand again, leading you back to the ice. The next two hours are filled with laughter and teasing as you skate hand in hand. 

You dream of ice skating with Chris. The holiday spirit creeps at the edge of your soul.

It's four days later that you come home to notice things are different. The tree is gone. You have a brief moment of giddiness, immediately feeling bad. You told yourself that you're going to try. It isn't fair to Chris if he goes through all of this trouble for you to refuse to try.

“Chris? Are you home?” You hear shuffling coming from the back half of the apartment. The Adonis of a man comes from his room, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, pulling a black muscle shirt over his head. You can see the ridges that adore his chest and stomach. It makes your mouth dry and your panties wet.

“Great, you're home. It's time for the first small activity.” You look around, trying to figure out what he has planned. It takes a bit, but you finally notice the Christmas tree messing put on top, not in, it's box. Your eyes flicking to your best friend, raising an eyebrow in question. 

“Yepp. First up, we put the tree up and decorate it together.” You suppress a sigh. This used to be one of your favorite things to do for Christmas, second only to baking cookies. You give him a small smile and a nod and the way his face lights up makes every grievance you have about doing this fly out of the window. 

Chris sets the tree up while you sort the decorations and untangle the lights. He had tangled them back up so you could get the “full experience.” Admittedly, that made you the tiniest bit happy. Just that he had thought of everything, even something as small as untangling lights. After he has the tree in its place, he steps away and grabs his phone, turning it to the radio station for the college. You give him a side eye and he laughs. “I may be off today, but I still support my team.”  The radio station is Chris’ baby. He’s always loved music, he says it has helped him through his darkest times. 

Of course Jisung is playing Christmas music right now, you suspect Chris had something to do with that since it isn’t a normal occurrence this early in the month. Footsteps coming your way clue you in that he has decided to make his way over to where you are. His arms come around you from behind, giving you a soft squeeze. He breathes a soft laugh into your ear as he watches you fight the strand of lights. “Here, let me help.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, his nimble fingers making quick work of the knots. You can’t help but focus on the way his hands move, god you want them inside of you.

The next hour or so is spent making sure every ornament is in the perfect place, not too close together, but not too far apart. The music, which has since switched from Christmas tunes, plays softly in the background. Every now and then, Jisung’s voice cuts through the speaker, usually to make some sort of joke or answer a question that was sent in. You’re distracted with making sure the tree is perfect that you don’t notice the way your roommate stands off to the side, watching you intently, a smile on his face and his eyes twinkling.

The rest of your week drags on. Your thoughts are muddled and all over the place. You’ve been happier than you normally are this time of year, and you know Chris’ plan is working. You can’t tell if it’s because of doing the activities you haven’t done in years, or if it’s because you're doing them with him. You think it may be the latter, though. Friday finally rolls around and after classes and your shift at the campus bookstore, you’re absolutely beat. You trudge through your front door, set on getting a shower and going to bed. 

Chris should still be at the radio station, he tends to work later on Fridays. It occurs to you that some self care may be in order, you could definitely use a good orgasm to make you feel better. With your mind made up, you grab your pajamas and your waterproof vibrator, quickly making your way to the bathroom. 

The steam from the hot water fills the room and it instantly makes you relax just a little. Your shoulders are loosening up more every second you spend undressing. The stream of water hits your skin and an involuntary sigh escapes your lips. You stand under the falling water for a few moments, letting the warmth seep into your skin. Almost absent mindedly, you reach for your vibrator, clicking it to the lowest setting.You run your free hand down your body, stopping at your breast to fondle and pinch your nipple. You let a soft gasp and you bring the toy to your clit, just barely grazing it, teasing yourself. 

The more tension that escapes you, the more you indulge yourself. You replace your vibrator with the shower head, the pressure hitting just the right spot. You slide the toy through your folds, down to your entrance, sliding it into your pussy slowly. The sound you make is louder this time, and you aren’t worried about the noise. It’s just you in the apartment and you need this. You fuck yourself faster, making sure to keep the pressure on your clit as you change the angle of your hand so the tip of the vibrator hits your sweet spot. 

Your orgasm is approaching faster than you thought it would, but you’re absolutely fine with it. Clicking the vibration setting up one notch, you throw your head back against the tile of the shower wall. You release a drawn out moan, your hips bucking slightly into the toy, chasing your high. Right as the dam is about to break, you click the setting button to the highest setting. You crash head first into your orgasm. Whimpers and whines fall from your mouth as you ride out your high, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning out your best friend’s name.

The next day comes earlier than you thought it would, mostly because you’re woken up to a loud voice. “Good morning, pretty girl! Rise and shine.” ‘Choke, you happy bastard.’ You feel bad for your immediate thought, but as you roll over and take a look at your clock, you feel slightly less bad. “Christopher. It is 8am. What the actual fuck?” The only response you get is a smile and the feeling of blankets being ripped off of you. You fix your gaze on him, giving him the harshest death glare you can manage at this time of day, which doesn’t appear to bother him a bit. “Up, woman. We have things to do. If I don’t hear the sink running in 5 minutes, I’m dragging you out of bed myself.” ‘This is going to be a long fucking day.’ 

Your hands are on the handle of the shopping cart while Chris holds on to the basket. He directs the cart himself, you’re essentially just there for appearances, you guess. He stopped to get you a coffee, a peace offering, which you had accepted. But that doesn’t mean your mood has drastically improved. He looks great, he always does, but today he’s glowing more than usual. ‘Stupid, beautiful, perfect man. How are you this chipper this early? You barely sleep.’ 

You watch as he grabs drinks and snacks, still having no idea what is going on. He had refused to tell you anything on the drive to the supermarket, didn’t want to”ruin the holiday spirit surprise”, whatever that means. Once he deems there are enough items in the cart, he directs the two of you to the checkout counter. You don’t even bother pulling out your wallet, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. Chris pays, oblivious to the way the cashier is making googly eyes at him. 

After loading everything into the car, he opens the door for you, giving you a peck on the forehead. That causes you to duck your head to hide the blush that forms across your cheeks. You watch as he jogs around to the trunk, opening it and digging around for a second before he closes it and makes his way to the driver’s door. He turns to you as he’s buckling his belt, his voice soft. “Take yourself a nap, pretty. We have a bit of a drive ahead of us.” You give him a look, one which he ignores. ‘Where the hell is this crazy man taking me?’ You doze off before you can even think of a possible answer.

“Y/n. Wake up. We’re here.” The gentle swaying of your body coaxes you awake, your eyes automatically squinting to avoid the sun. Chris is already out of the car, already holding your door open. He takes your hand and helps you out of the car, pausing to let you stretch. He silently takes your hand, tugging gently, urging you to follow him. Your nose meets his back as he stops suddenly. You let out a tiny huff, rubbing your nose while he apologizes. “I’m sorry! I just forgot something!” He takes your hands away from your face to inspect you, making sure your nose isn’t bleeding, and presses a soft kiss to the tip. “Can you close your eyes for me? Please?” You do as he says without hesitation. “Good girl.” You shiver.

When you finally come to a stop, you guess that you must be inside somewhere. You can’t feel the sun on your skin, and the temperature has dropped slightly. You hear him shuffling around and as much as you want to see what’s going on, you keep your eyes closed. When he finally comes back to you, he grabs both of your hands and pulls you a little further forward. He drops your hands, and you feel him behind you, wrapping you up in his warmth. “Open.” You slowly lift your eyelids, both confused and in awe by what you see.

You’re in a barn, a blanket thrown across the ground. Pillows lay on the blanket, surrounded by the snacks and drinks you had gotten at the store. Everything is facing a wall, where a large projector screen hangs, the title screen for A Christmas Story paused on the screen. You hate cheesy Christmas movies, even when you liked Christmas. A Christmas Story is different, you could watch it all year round. Tears prick the corner of your eyes. No one has ever gone through such great lengths for you. “Chris…” Your voice breaks off and your best friend pulls you back into his chest and sets his chin on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s lay down. I brought an extra blanket to cover up with. I know how easily you get cold. There’s also more pillows in case the ground gets too hard.” You quickly spin around in his arms, latching your hands around his shoulders in a tight hug. “Thank you.” You feel him place a soft kiss on your hair. 

Feeling happy and content, you press play.

“What has you in such a good mood?” You direct your attention to Hyunjin. He’s looking at you like you’re some sort of impostor. “What do you mean? I’m just in a good mood.” He scrunches his face like he’s just smelled something awful. “Y/n, it’s December. Today marks exactly two weeks until Christmas. In the two years I have known you, you have never just been in a good mood for no reason this close to Christmas.” 

He’s right. You know that he’s right. You aren’t usually in an outright bad mood, but you certainly aren’t in a good mood for no reason. “Maybe I’m just having a good day.’ Your words come out in a mumble, you know they don’t sound convincing. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Aussie, would it?” You knew you shouldn’t have told Hyunjin about your feelings for Chris. In your defense, you didn’t tell him. He just seemed to read your mind and then you couldn’t deny it.

“Shut up.” You’re grumbling now, not liking that you’ve been so easily read. You can see the smug grin on Hyunjin’s face. He knows he’s hit the nail on the head and you just want to smack him. “We made a deal. He’s trying to get me over the Christmas hate. I’m not saying it’s working,” It is. “I’ve just been having alot of fun. You watch your friend’s eyes widen before the cocky smile is back on his face. “You guys are so gonna fuck.” That one finally earns him the smack.

 It’s Thursday by the time you realize you haven’t had your small adventure this week, and you're surprised how sad you are about it. You’ve been pouting for two days because there has been no holiday fun. That thought alone makes you want to vomit. You definitely did not expect this. You? Wanting to do Christmasy stuff? Yuck. 

The bookstore is quiet, which isn’t unusual, but it gives your thoughts too much power. Is it time to let go? You assume it is, but you aren’t sure if you’re fully ready. It sounds dumb, but if you stay angry, you focus on that instead of the hurt. It’s starting to fade, though. Finally. You’ve thought for years that if you just pretended that Christmas didn’t exist, you’d move on. But, you guess you were going about it the wrong way. Maybe you do need to embrace the season. 

The bell above the door rings, signaling that someone has entered the store. You face the door, seeing your best friend walking in, stomping the snow off of his shoes. You give him a wave, a bright smile on your face, getting larger the closer he gets to you. “You don’t have much longer, right?” You shake your head, tilting it slightly to the side. He reads you like a book. “It’s time for our second mini adventure.” Your heart feels lighter.

There’s flour everywhere. It’s in your hair, it’s in his hair, it’s on the ceiling. The kitchen is a mess.

As soon as you had gotten home, Chris led you to the kitchen, where an array of cookie cutters were laid out on the counter. You didn’t even try to hide your smile. “Welcome to Bang’s Bakery.” You let out a snort at his customer service voice, his giggle filling the air around you. “We got snowmen, gingerbread men, Santa. You name it, we got it.” You immediately drift toward the metal shaped like a snowman, while Chris grabs the Santa cutter. 

The first batch of cookies turned out…not the greatest. You had gotten lost in a dance party, letting them stay in the oven for too long. The second batch was better, but had almost zero flavor. The third batch is where things took a turn. 

You had spilled the flour while trying to pour it into a measuring cup, a cloud coming from the plop it made on the counter. Chris let out a howl of laughter as he noticed your face covered in the remnants of the cloud. This just wouldn’t stand. No way. You hadn’t even taken a millisecond to think before reaching into the bag. A puff of flour hit Chris directly in the face. That shut him up. Briefly. He recovered quickly, a sly smile coming to his face. ‘Oh god, what have I done?’ 

He was on you before you knew it, fighting you for the bag of flour. There was no way you were going down without a full fight. You had snatched your arms back, turning to make a run for it. The flour stuck again. There was a white patch on the floor, which had somehow gotten mixed with some form of liquid. Your feet slid out from under you, causing you to hit the floor. The bag flew into the air, turned upside down and covered both you and Chris. 

He slid to the floor beside you, both of you in hysterics. Your sides were hurting from laughing so hard. “Y’ok?” His question came out in between him trying to catch his breath. You couldn’t even answer, too lost in the joy you’re feeling. He goes silent all of a sudden, his hands coming to cup your face to get your attention. You stare at each other, neither of you speaking. His eyes dart between yours and your lips. Just as you both lean in, his phone rings, You jump apart as he gets up to answer. “Bin needs me at the station. I’m gonna shower and head out.” You give him a stiff nod and he turns to walk down the hallway.

The weekend brings rain. Rain brings this weekend’s activity inside. Chris won’t tell you what he had originally planned, all he told you was that he had to make due with what he had. That explained absolutely nothing. 

A Christmas movie marathon. That was the backup plan. There was a slight disagreement on whether or not Die Hard is a Christmas movie, ‘it is’, but Chris disagrees. ‘He’s wrong.’ After that minor setback, the marathon is in full swing. The two of you are cuddled up under a blanket and you each have a mug of hot chocolate while Home Alone plays on the screen. Neither of you have brought up what happened after the flour fight, you aren’t even sure how you approach the subject. 

You somehow move from cuddling side by side to you laying on his chest. You aren’t complaining, it feels right. It feels like this is where you are supposed to be. Your eyes start to get heavy when Chris starts to play with your hair. Your nose is filled with his cologne and your heart is full of love.

Time seems to both speed up and slow down the closer you get to Christmas. Four days. That’s all you have left. It feels good to not be dreading the day. You feel more light and carefree than you have in years. Chris had texted you earlier today, giving you strict instructions.

Cutie with a booty: lay a sheet down on the living room floor and make sure to wear comfy clothes that aren’t super important to you. No, I won’t tell you what we’re doing. Don't even ask.

So here you were, sitting on the floor in an old shirt from highschool and some ripped sweats you’ve been meaning to throw away, waiting for Chris to get home. Just as you’re about to call and ask where he is, you hear a key enter the lock. Chris comes in with shopping bags full of stuff, though you can’t tell what it is. “I hope you have your crafty cap on!” You look at him like he just spoke gibberish.”My fucking what?” The man snorts so hard that he almost drops the bags. 

He sets all of the bags down on the sheet, plopping himself down afterwards. He reaches over, grabbing the bags and dumping the contents onto the sheet. Glue stick, cotton balls, glitter. All kinds of arts and crafts supplies, along with two plain red stockings. “We’re decorating stockings for each other. And no, you can not draw a penis on my stocking.” ‘Damn, He got me.’ You’re immediately hit with what you want to put on his stocking, confident that he’ll love it. 

The two of you work in silence, both concentrated on your art. Chris is using a lot of glitter and  a lot of black marker and you honestly have no idea what he could be doing. Looking down at your creation, you cringe slightly. You are in no way an artist, but you’re hoping he’ll at least be able to tell what your vision is. You grab your phone, needing a reference picture. Chris looks at you briefly, a disapproving look on his face.  “Calm down, I just need a reference picture.” His look changes to confused, but you just wave him off.

An hour later, both stockings are ready and hiding behind your backs. “I'll go first. This is about you enjoying Christmas, after all.” He reaches behind him, the stocking in his hands when they come back to the front of his body. He hands you the fabric and you observe it. Your name is written across the top in purple glitter, a heart on each side. In the center sits two penguins. They're facing each other, holding each other’s flippers. In between them is a pebble. You want to cry. You do cry.

“Chris. It's perfect.” He scoots toward you, his thumb coming to wipe away your tears. “Aww don't cry.” You let him know that it's a cry of happiness as you pull yourself together. It's your turn now and you turn slightly grabbing your gift. You extend your arms, watching him take in what you've made.

LIke him, you’ve written something across the top, but it isn’t his name. ‘RooBoo’ is written in blue glitter, with pink layering over the top. You’ve used the gold glitter to attempt to draw a kangaroo, though it doesn’t really look like one. Same goes for the koala. In between the two animals, the shape of Australia is drawn and shimmering in green and gold. You bite your lip anxiously, waiting for his reaction. Nothing happens. He just stares. You start to worry that he doesn’t understand what it’s supposed to be, or worse, doesn’t like it. 

All at once, he surges forward. He buries his face in your neck and wraps his arms around your waist. He just stays like that, not moving, not saying anything. You bring your arms around him, rubbing his back. You can feel moisture on your neck and it’s only then that you notice his soft shudders. “Chris?” You try to pull back to get a look at him, but he tightens his grip so you can’t go anywhere. “You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you so fucking much.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you hear him anyway. You place a kiss on his forehead and you two stay that way for a while longer.

Christmas Eve. The last day of your little deal, you’re beyond ready to admit to Chris that he had won during week two, but you want to see what his final surprise is. Knowing him, he’s going all out for this one. He’s out all day, and you’re pacing around waiting for his return. Around 6:30pm, you get a call. It’s short and to the point. “Be ready in an hour, dress cute but warm. I won’t be home until it’s time to pick you up. See you then, pretty girl.” He doesn’t even give you a chance to answer, he just hangs up. How dare he only give you an hour, you have to shower, do your hair, pick an outfit, there’s no way you can do all of that in an hour. 

You manage to do it in 50 minutes, which you are very proud of by the way. Your hair is down, nothing fancy, but you know that Chris likes it like this. Your outfit is simple, a red and striped sweater, jeans and a coat. It may not look like the warmest choice, but you know you’ll be warm enough. There’s a knock on the door, which you find odd. Opening the door slowly, a mess of brown curly hair comes into view. Chris stands at your shared door, a bouquet in his hand. His hair is in its natural state, your absolute favorite look on him. He’s absolutely breathtaking. All you can do is stare. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?” ‘Oh. Oh, that’s a new one.” Your heart beats in triple time, your stomach is a roller coaster. A nod is literally all you can manage. Your brain is telling your feet to move, your feet are not listening. 

You finally will yourself to move, with much help from Chris since he took you by your hand after putting the flowers in a vase with water. The elevator ride is tense, but not in a bad way. You want to latch yourself to his side and never leave. And like he tends to do, he somehow reads your mind, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your forehead, this one lingering a little longer than usual. When the doors open, he doesn’t remove his arm from your shoulder as he takes a step. Through the glass door of the lobby, you can see snow lightly falling. It’s beautiful.

A slight breeze hits your face as you step outside. You swivel your head, looking for Chris’ car. “We’re not driving anywhere, pretty.” You look at him, confusion written on your face, causing him to giggle and tip his head toward the park not far from your apartment building. ‘Oh! A walk in the park!’ You smile at the thought of just walking hand in hand around the park in the snow. Though, you’re just happy to spend Christmas Eve with your best friend. A small pang of hurt rushes through you at the thought that he is still only your best friend. Maybe you’ll finally confess at midnight.

Just outside the entrance to the park, there is a horse drawn sleigh. There are people circling around it, and as much as you want to pet the horse, you don’t want to fight your way through a crowd. Chris seems to have a different idea, though. He pulls you directly to the sleigh, letting go of your hand long enough to tell the driver his name and show the man his ID. He takes your hand again, leading you to the side of the sleigh. “After you.” You stand there gawking at him for a moment, his smile never faltering. He helps you into the sleigh, lifting the blanket that’s placed on the seat so the two of you can slide under it. 

The view of the park tonight is unlike anything you have ever seen. There are Christmas lights strung up through the trees. Soft instrumental versions of Christmas songs play through the speakers placed around. There are families playing in the snow, lovers dancing around the lake. The whole park is a magical place. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” His voice draws your attention to him, making eye contact. “Chris, this is amazing. Everything is so beautiful. How did you do this?” His smile widens at your words. “I cheated a little. There was an ad at the radio station. We were supposed to be the first to announce it. I called and booked the first ride before I read the ad.” Your laughter is the loudest sound in the park, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Of course he used the station. 

He slings his arm around you when your head lands on his shoulder and brings you closer to him. You’re close to sitting in his lap at this point. “Chris.” “Y/n.” You speak at the same time and you both giggle. You playfully argue over who should go first, and Chris finally takes the spotlight. 

“I said that I was spending this month trying to get you to like Christmas again, and I meant that. But that was a minor part of everything I’ve done. I wanted you to know what it’s like to be loved, genuinely loved, on Christmas. I know this time of year is hard for you, and understandably so, but I want you to know that you have someone who is here for you. You have someone who will never leave. You have someone that loves you more than words could ever explain. I love you, Y/n. I just wanted you to feel that love.”

You have no words. You have tears, but no words. You have tears, no words, and your lips on his.

You feel like you're floating. Are your feet on the ground? You don’t know. You can feel your hand in his, but you can’t feel your feet. And you aren’t bothered by it. Because you can feel his lips on yours. You walk through the doorway of your shared apartment, giving each other sweet kisses. It’s only when you’re fully inside with the door closed that the kisses deepen. Chris cups your face with both of his hands, one sliding up to run through your hair. You’re already in bliss. He pulls back slightly, his breath fanning across your lips. “Tell me how you want this to go, baby. We can stop here and have dinner, or we can go to my room.” You have never uttered a sentence out faster. “Your room, please. I think we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”

Before you realize what’s happening, he swoops you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style to his room, pressing his lips to yours the entire way. He doesn’t even bother closing the bedroom door behind himself, immediately moving to place you gently on his bed. You scoot yourself further up, beckoning him closer. He slowly crawls onto the bed to hover over you, his right handing coming back to your face as he leans down to kiss you again. His left hand makes a home on your hip, rubbing slow, soft circles with his thumb. There is no urgency in your shared kisses, only the need to be close and show each other the love that you feel.

You kiss until both of your lips are swollen and red and Chris finally pulls back, just to admire you. “You are beyond beautiful. I love you so much.” His words are quiet, like he’ll break the magic moment if he speaks any louder.

 “I realize I haven’t told you how I feel yet.” You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to spill your feelings. “You are the kindest, most genuine person I have ever met. You go out of your way to make sure that everyone you care about is taken care of, even if that means not taking care of yourself.” You pause briefly, giving him a look. “We’ll talk about taking better care of you later.” He giggles as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “When we met, I had no idea how important you would become to me, and now that I know, I never want to not have you here. And I’m not worried that I’ll have to deal with that. You have given me more hope and love than I ever thought possible and I am so fucking in love with you.”

The kiss you receive in response is softer than the others and you aren’t sure how that is possible. You can feel every ounce of care this man holds for you in the barely there kiss. It makes your head spin. Slowly, his lips travel from yours down to your neck, sucking softly at the skin. You arch into him, gasping at how good it feels just to have his lips on you. His kisses travel lower, stopping at the edge of your sweater. “Can I take this off of you, babygirl?” You clench around nothing at the pet name, and of course Chris notices. He notices everything about you. 

You give him a nod and his hands slowly pull the sweater over your head, his eyes locked on yours as he removes it completely. Out of instinct, your hands move to cover yourself, but he grabs them before they make contact with your breasts. “Please don’t hide from me, my love. I want to see all of you. You’re so pretty.” Something churns inside of you at his compliments and you will yourself to keep your arms down. He trails his eyes down your chest, zeroing in on the fabric of your bra. He lifts his eyes back to yours, a silent question swirling in his brown irises. You give him a firm nod, not wanting him to sense any hesitation. You have no hesitation.

You reach around and unclasp your bra, bringing the straps down your shoulder until the garment falls onto your lap. “Fuck.” His voice is strained and you can hear the lust in his tone. But you can also hear the love. His hands rise to your chest, thumbs flicking over your nipples slowly. You let out a soft moan, biting your lip. His touch doesn’t linger for long, moving down to the top of your jeans. “Do you still want to keep going, baby? We don’t have to.” You love how he checks in with you before doing anything, it makes you feel so comfortable, like your comfort is more important than his desire. And you know that that is exactly how he feels.

“Chris, please.” The whine in your voice seems to do something to him because he groans as he begins to unbutton your jeans. While his hands are occupied removing you from the confines of your clothes, his lips press against your stomach. He takes his time with you and even though you’re soaked at this point, you don’t dare try to rush him. You can tell that he wants to worship you, and you intend to let him. His lips touch every new piece of skin that is revealed, not wanting to leave any part of you untouched. He leans back to take in the view of you. Your hair is slightly messy from his hands running through it. Your cheeks are flushed as you lay there in only your panties. You buck your hips up at him once and his hands immediately move to take the ruined fabric off. 

Once you’re bare beneath him, you gain a little confidence, spreading your legs so he can see your core. He outright moans at the sight. You can see his cock straining against his jeans, it’s big, that much you can tell. Your hole clenches at the thought of taking him, and again he takes notice. “What dirty thoughts are you thinking to have you clenching like that, babygirl?” The name makes you clench again and he smirks. “Oh? Y’like that do you? Like when I call you babygirl?” You spread your legs further apart as give him a nod, another groan coming from the gorgeous man in front of you.

“Yes, Daddy.” You stiffen. You have no idea where that came from. Never have you called a man daddy in bed, but for some reason, it felt so right that it just slipped out. Chris growls at that and you know you’ve found a weak spot for him. “Look at my pretty baby, all wet for me. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you, babygirl.” He lowers himself to the floor, grabbing at your ankles and slowly pulling your core toward his face. “Still good, baby?” Another nod from you and he presses a kiss to your clit. The contact has you arching into him, your obvious pleasure making his tongue dart out of his mouth to taste you. 

You try to keep your moans down as he devours you. You have a hand in his hair, not pulling, simply running your fingers through it. He alternates between circling your clit with his tongue and slipping the muscle inside of you, ending the pattern with a suck to your clit. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s too much and it’s not enough. Your moans increase slightly in volume, until Chris stops his lovely attack on your pussy.

“Let me hear you, baby. I know you can do better than that. I heard you in the shower, you sounded so fucking beautiful. The best song I’ve ever heard.” You know you should be embarrassed, but you aren’t. His words only cause a new wave of arousal and a loud moan to escape you. “That’s it. There’s my good girl.” Another clench. Chris chooses this moment to slide a finger into you, curving it instantly, looking for the soft spot inside of you. He knows he’s found it when you buck your hips up and groan and he moves his face back down to lick at you more.

The combination of his tongue and fingers turn out to be deadly. You’re rapidly approaching your high. “Chris, please. I’m so close.” He picks up the pace of his fingers, pressing into your sweet spot on every thrust. Your moans flow out of you now, even if you wanted to stop them, you wouldn’t be able to. “There we go. Come on, babygirl. You can do it. Cum for me, cum for Daddy.” Your vision blurs, stars explode from your peripherals. Chris helps you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling his fingers from you. “Can you open up for me, sweetheart?” Your mouth opens without you having to tell it to, and his fingers find their way onto your tongue. “Suck. See how good you taste.” You obey him without pause, moaning at the taste of yourself on his fingers.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, moving them down to the button of his jeans, while the other hand reaches towards the nightstand for a condom. You reach out and grab his wrist, shaking your head. “Wanna feel you. All of you.” You can see his eyes glaze over with lust, but he still asks if you’re sure. You nod, you don’t think you’ve ever been so sure of something in your life. He moves with a little more haste as he kicks his pants off. “Holy shit.” You didn’t mean to say the words out loud, but one look at his cock has your mouth watering, but it also has you wondering if it’s going to fit. He has one hand slowly stroking himself, moving closer to your cunt, sliding himself through your folds. “Relax for me, love. All you have to do is relax and let me in.”

He pushes into you slowly, a deep, drawn out groan coming from his throat. A high pitched whine leaves you at the same time, a harmony of pleasure. Once he’s fully sheathed inside of you, he pauses, not moving. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. Fit me perfectly. Cunt was made for daddy’s cock, huh?” All you can do is nod and whine, and bring your legs to wrap around his waist. You manage to buck your hips slightly, trying to get him to move. He pulls his hips back slowly, pulling out until only the tip of his cock is resting inside of you. He shoves his cock back into you all at once, not too roughly, but making sure to hit deep. 

Your body moves into a deep arch at his thrusts, all hitting the spongy part inside of you perfectly. You’re already working your way to another orgasm. “Feel so good, baby. So glad I get to have you like this. Love you so much.” His thrusts start to speed up and you can tell that he’s holding himself back, wanting you to finish one more time before he lets himself go. “I’m close, sweet girl. Think you can come for me one more time? Come with me this time?” Tears are pricking the edges of your eyes and you quickly nod. “So close. So close, Love you. So close.” Your words come out jumbled, but you think Chris understands. He speeds up a little more, the both of you moaning in time with each other. Chris leans down so his mouth is right next to your ear. “Now, baby. Come now. I love you. You can do it.” You cum with a cry of his name, your pussy clamping down on his cock sends him into his own orgasm, groaning as he fills you.

You’re both panting by the time you come down. Chris slowly pulls out slowly, watching his seed dribble out of your spent hole. His hand twitches like he wants to push it back inside of you, but he doesn’t. He turns and leaves, you can hear the faucet running in the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth, carefully cleaning you up and adding a kiss to your forehead. He helps you up, walking with you to the bathroom so you can pee. When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s standing by the door with a bottle of water. He really is perfect.

Once you get back to his room, he gives you a shirt of his to wear to bed. “Need me to go get underwear from your room?” His thoughtfulness makes you smile. “Nah. Don’t need ‘em.” He smirks at that, knowing that you mean that this will lead to morning sex and he’s all for it. He joins you on his bed again, pulling you into his arms. “So, it’s midnight. How are you feeling about Christmas?” You’re silent for a moment, thinking of what you want to say. Pulling back to look at him, you smile.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

#16 days of smutmas 2023 #cultofdionysusnet #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fluff #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader

[mire1li]

Reader as Alastor's Mother part 3

So I took a little while oops Part 1!, Part 2!

𓋼 You brush his hair every morning. He pretends to find it annoying but he secretly loves it.

Whenever you'd brush his hair, you'd sometimes mention how short it was and that you couldn't do any hairstyles with it, which, on one hand, was good for his pride, but on the other hand, made you sad which also made him slightly sad. So he made the very rational decision to grow his hair out for you so that you could style it one day!

"Alastor, is your hair longer than before?"

"Hm? Is it?" he would never admit he did it for you! 𓋼 At one point, you were in the lobby with everyone else and you started wondering about Alastor's ears since he never actually mentioned anything, of course, you remembered Charlie's constant pleading to pet him, to which he always refused with his typical "Ha! No.", which made you more curious, if perhaps you could get away with it as his mother.

So, only naturally, you placed your hand atop his head and pet him, his ears lightly twitching. Charlie squealed. Of course she did.

"Oh my gosh! Can I do that too?!" she asked

"Haha! Absolutely not."

She wasn't very happy. She ended up pouting the entire day, Vaggie having to comfort her. To Charlie, it was like someone telling her not to pet a cute cat! Absolutely heartbreaking 𓋼 On that specific day, you also asked if he had a tail, and considering he had ears, it would make sense for there to be a tail too. Of course, silly Alastor was too embarrassed to answer in front of everyone, so he avoided the question!

"You're very positive today, Mother, did something good happen?"

"Nothing in particular, so about your tail-!"

"That's for me to know and you to… maybe, find out, Mother!"

You asked him about it again when you two weren't around the others, so he decided to show you! it was a nice revelation. 𓋼 You noticed that the shadow Alastor has following you around all the time, sometimes disappears, so you used that opportunity to go meet Lucifer as he invited you for tea countless times, and who are you to decline such a kind invitation?

When Alastor realised he couldn't find you anywhere in the hotel, he panicked and searched every inch of it multiple times, until Vaggie had finally had enough and asked him what happened.

"What are you doing, Alastor?"

"Searching for my Mother! She's gone missing, you see!" of course, he had a menacing look on his face.

"She mentioned she was going out for a while"

"Oh? And did she say… where?"

"Nope, well anyway, good luck!"

Yeah, Vaggie just left him. So he waited for you patiently at the hotel entrance. When you finally returned, he clung to you like his life depended on it, asking you many questions. 𓋼 I feel like whenever the Overlords had important, confidential, meetings, Alastor would immediately return to the hotel and tell you all about them, whether it be out of spite or fun. You definitely enjoyed knowing all the things going on in hell. 𓋼 You and Niffty put makeup on him when he was asleep and pinned his hair back (Alastor was pretending to sleep, just letting you two do your thing). Angel started laughing and giving him silly nicknames when he saw his hair, which inevitably caused him to shake his head very fast, removing the pin from his hair. 𓋼 Your first birthday with everyone. Of course, Alastor threw you a party. It was meant to be a surprise but considering he’s always with you, you found out because he was more secretive than before (you managed to guilt-trip him into telling you what he was hiding) 𓋼 For Christmas (if you celebrate it), you decorate Alastor with Christmas lights! He says he hates it but he definitely doesn’t, although it certainly made him a little bit scarier when he did that spooky thing with his eyes!

"Mother. Please do explain again why you decided to put christmas lights on me."

"You're more colourful this way!" you turned the lights on, so that now they were switching between multiple colours

Angel and Niffty ended up hanging a few baubles on his antlers too, before he noticed. 𓋼 Charlie had asked about your time alive so you began telling her, and everyone else who was listening, about some silly stories! When Alastor came into the lobby and heard you telling an embarrassing story about him, his ears lightly twitched and flattened against his head. He was just a little bit embarrassed.

Of course, he tried to leave again, unnoticed, however, the all-too bubbly charlie saw him and invited him to join.

"Alastor! [Name] was just telling us stories, come join us!"

"No"

"Alastor, darling, Charlie is being very kind! You need to be around these souls more! Come join."

Of course, he can't say no to you, so he ended up sitting by your side as you continued to tell the story about him, you lightly pet him and hugged him from time to time. Although his ears still stayed flat against his head. 𓋼 You wanted to make a flower crown, but since no flowers actually existed in hell, you had to make do with other things (paper). Yes, you made paper flowers and then turned them into a makeshift flower crown, which you then placed on top of Alastor's head.

"Mother?"

"Darling, I made you a paper flower crown!" 𓋼 Alternatively, you may've decided to sneak out again to find Lucifer.

"Luci, can you sneak us into Heaven?"

"Heaven?! Why?"

"I need flowers"

"Why would you need flowers?"

"To make Alastor a flower crown!"

Yeah, he wasn't too excited about that idea but he still agreed, although it did take a bit of… bribery…

"I'll… give you a kiss if you agree!"

"Let's go!" he opened the portal immediately and took you with him.

In the end, you got all the flowers you needed (after being chased out by Lute and Adam), so you were both… somewhere in hell, for sure.

"So… about what you said, before I got us into Heaven…"

"Oh, right!" You never specified where you'd kiss him so you simply kissed his cheek, he was a little disappointed but it's alright, you got Alastor a lovely flower crown! 𓋼 I feel like he would've been very afraid of spiders when he was alive, and then you were left with the task to exterminate any that entered your home (whether or not you were also afraid) 𓋼 You were quite a fan of new technology (though not completely obsessed), it made life far easier for you, though Alastor always 'confiscated' everything when he was around as he wasn't too keen on it.

"Mother, I don't see what you like about this device so much."

"It's simple to use and makes things quite a bit simpler than back when we were alive."

"I think it's pointless."

"Yes, you've always been a fan of radio… I see that obsession has stuck, even after death"

"It is not an obsession, Mother. I prefer 'fascination'!"

#hazbin hotel #reader insert #fem reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #angel dust #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #charlie morningstar #charlie hazbin hotel #vaggie hazbin hotel #vaggie #headcanon #niffty #niffty hazbin hotel #nifty hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lute hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel

[halfmoonshines]

Sweater Weather

summary; bucky barnes x reader but reader is obsessed with spooky season

fluff fluff fluff

After three years together, Bucky knew when to be prepared for each seasons decorations to make their appearance. November first for Christmas, February first for Valentines day; but the far and above winner was September first for Halloween. And when you decorated for Halloween the house was almost unrecognizable.

This year you'd started a bit early, either because the weather had tipped or Bucky had been gone on a mission for a week. Either way when he stumbled in the door at 2am on the 31st of August, the wall of fake spiderwebs he ran into almost had him screaming.

He was a little jumpy after missions, okay?

He found you still awake in the living room, wrapped up in a blanket that you thought could hide you from the demons in the movie you were watching.

"Bit early isn't it, Doll?"

His voice almost made you jump out of your skin, but that didn't stop your excitement at his arrival home. You were in his arms in the blink of an eye, face burrowed into his shoulder when you replied.

"It's spooky season, Buck."

---

"Can we please grab this? It's a whole different scent."

Falling leaves accompanied shopping for things that smelled like fallen leaves, that was in Bucky's 'Autumn Girlfiend' guide. You were holding an apple-pumpkin candle out to him, the three wicks staring at him tauntingly.

He was sure that you had three candles with the same scent, or a mixture, at home already. But if all it took were some smells to keep that smile on your face he would buy you the whole store. Not that he'd tell you that.

----

He had never seen you this sad on Halloween before, it was like a sacred thing for you. But this was your first year in the new house, and so far it was just passed 8pm and you hadn't received any trick or treaters.

You sat on the couch with a mostly untouched bowl of candy next to you, the only stray wrappers from the ones you'd succumbed and eaten yourself. Bucky stood in the entryway, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

This simply wouldn't do.

He sent off a quick text before coming to join you on the couch, arms pulling you into his chest so you could sit together. "Why don't we watch The Conjuring?"

He could see your spirits lift when you asked. "Really?"

"Of course. Go make us some popcorn, I'll get us set up."

The return text came as you entered the kitchen, his team as quick as he ever needed.

The knock on the door sounded as you were walking back to the couch, popcorn forgotten you quickly set it to the side and grabbed the big bowl of candy. "Trick or treaters, Buck!"

"Trick or treat!" A chorus of decidedly adult voices sprang from the front door when you opened it. It was most of Bucky and yours friends; Steve, Sam, Nat - all dressed up in the most cliche Halloween costumes.

"So, do I get candy?" Sam's Batman outfit definitely called for some candy.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"We couldn't let you not have a fun Halloween." Nat said as she pushed her way in, the boys following behind her.

You glanced at Bucky, sure that it was his diabolical plan. His serene smile met yours and in that moment you remembered every reason you loved the man.

"Happy spooky season, babe. Lets watch that movie."

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female character #bucky barnes fluff #my works

[louloulemons-posts]

Hi! I love how much fluff is in your fics 💜 So comforting

Can I request Eddie and reader having Halloween date at home?

A lot of cuddles, pizza, classic horror movies and themed food? 🥺

Have a nice day!

Hi! Thank you so much for the request, I hope this fulfils what you were hoping for 🤍

Spooky Date Night

Eddie Munson X Reader

Summary : Eddie plans a date for him and his girlfriend.

Word Count : 1.5k

Warnings : Pure fluff, mentions of horror movies, swearing, knives (pumpkin carving), use of Y/N, pet names, not proofread.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You couldn’t wait, Eddie had invited you over to the trailer for a date. One that he had not let you know anything about whatsoever. All he said was dress comfy, pack an overnight bag and come over at 6:30.

All of those things were done, dressed in some sweatpants and a long sleeve tee with a jumper and jacket over top, you tried to hide from the chilly October air.

Pulling up to the trailer and parking next to Eddies van. Grabbing your bag from the seat beside you you climbed out and knocked on his door.

You heard his voice, “Coming!” Soon enough the door was pulled open and there stood Eddie Munson, a grin on his face. “Hey Angel! Come on in.”

You did so, sliding off your beat up shoes and leaving them next to Eddies favourites. Looking up the trailer looked a lot different to how it normally did.

There were fake cobwebs everywhere, candles lit, the room was dark but cosy. There were pumpkins on the counter, pizza and Halloween candy on the table. A high pile of videos to watch.

“What do you think?” He asked, stepping from one foot to the other nervously. “It looks great! You did all this?” You asked him. He nodded, “Yeah thought we could have a spooky night, as we’re going to that party on Halloween night.”

“You’re something else Munson, just the sweetest guy,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. “I’m glad you like it. Why don’t you go put your stuff in our room I’ll get us some drinks and plates for food.”

You nodded and went to drop your bag off in his room, you did have spare clothes at Eddies, even then you borrowed his. It was very likely that by the end of the night you’d end up in the worn Black Sabbath shirt he was wearing currently.

You went back to join him on his couch, as he put a couple slices of pizza on your plate.

“It’s so cozy in here, should convince Wayne to keep it like this.”

“It was hard enough to convince him to let me do this,” you both laughed at that.

“So what movies have we got?”

“I got a selection, classics, Halloween, Jaws, Nightmare on Elmstreet and The Shining. Some less scary ones cause I want you to get some sleep, so Rocky Horror.”

You hummed, there were a couple more in the pile too, you assumed that’s why he asked you over so early. “Got us some pumpkins to carve too, cause you know, best part of Halloween.”

You could only smile at him, he thought of all of this. You both loved Halloween, that was one of the things you bonded over when you first met. People freaking out over Christmas when you were already waiting for the Spooky Season to roll back around.

So the pair of you tucked into your pizza, chatting away and giggling ready to start your spooky evening.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

After you’d cleared up your plates and Pizza boxes, Eddie and you grabbed some knives, pens and a big bowl for your pumpkin carving. Rolling up your sleeves, you pulled the orange veggie towards you.

“Damn getting serious babe,” Eddie laughed. “You know it, want me to tie your hair back?” You asked him, he nodded, and held out his wrist. A hair tie sat there, it was for either you or him, depending on the situation.

Pulling his curls out of his face, you tied them in a low pony that sat at the base of his neck. Kissing the top of his head you sat back next to him. “Thanks Angel.”

Picking up a pen you began to draw your design on your pumpkin. Planning on doing a some what traditional one, triangle eyes and nose and a toothy grin.

You could tell Eddie was going the opposite route, assuming something with a fearsome face, that could potentially scare trick or treaters away.

Once you were both happy with your designs, you picked up your knives and began to cut off the top. Making lid for the little guys, pulling it off you smiled, proud of how even it was.

“Nice work babe,” Eddie smiled, soon pulling his own off. “Thanks, you too.” Placing it down you stood up. “Where you off too?” He asked. “To get spoons, we forgot them.”

“We don’t need spoons!” Eddie said before shoving his hand in the pumpkin. It came out covered in seeds and stringy insides. “Gross pumpkin guts!” You exclaimed.

“Dare you to try some.”

“No way!”

“Why not? It’s just pumpkin.”

“It’s grim Eds, look at it!” He grinned at you. “Don’t you dare.” You took a step back and Eddie stood up.

“Stay away!” He lunged for you and you squealed, running through the kitchen, the boy cackling as he chased you. “Edward Munson go away!”

You could feel him behind you, grabbing your waist and pulling you to him, you screamed. He rubbed his sticky hand on your face slightly.

“Get off!” You shouted. He laughed again, dropping his head to your shoulder, his body shaking with laughter. “You’re a terrible boyfriend, did you know that?” You asked,turning to face him.

He couldn’t help out laugh, that was until you got your hand and wiped some of the pumpkin off your face and onto his lips. He spluttered, “Ew gross!” He exclaimed, wiping his mouth.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Your jack o lanterns now sat on the side with candles in. “Can’t believe I knocked his tooth out, he’s all gappy now!” You whined, dropping your head on to Eddie.

“I think he’s cute Angel. We got a cute one and a scary one, it’s like me and you.”

“You calling me gappy Edward Munson?”

“Who said you’re the cute one?” He cocked a brow.

You went to retaliate but he pecked your lips, “Pick a movie, I’m going to the bathroom.” He stood from the couch and walked away.

Looking through them, you decided that Halloween was the best one to start with.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

It was almost 12pm and you were now watching Nightmare on Elmstreet, pushing yourself closer to Eddie. “You okay?” He asked.

“Mhm, he’s just creepy,” you said. The boy wrapped his arms around you, letting you rest your head on his chest and his own on top of yours. He pressed a kiss to you and smiled.

Freddie Kruger popped up on screen making you jump and hide your face in Eddies chest, squealing as you did so. “Oh sweet girl it’s okay,” he spoke softly, rubbing your arm.

“Want me to turn it off?” You shook you head, no. “Okay but after this, Rocky Horror okay?”

“‘Mkay.” Pecking the top of your head once more, you moved your eyes to the screen once more.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You were about half way through Rocky Horror when your eyes grew heavy. It was nearing 1am, and you hadn’t moved from your position, snuggled in Eddies chest.

Relaxing fully, you let your eyes fall close, comfy and calm. No fear of Freddie Kruger or Michael Myers or even a giant Shark coming to get you.

Soon enough you were asleep in Eddies arms. Huffing a laugh, he gave you a light squeeze, allowing himself to relax too.

He was nervous this date wouldn’t be something you liked, he just wanted to make you happy. He knew he’d done that, from your laughter, to the play fighting to now, you snoozing in his arms softly.

Eddies became drowsy himself, he’d been up early to clean and decorate the trailer to make everything perfect for you. He didn’t mind, he’d do anything for you.

The boy soon followed your actions and drifted off himself, the sound of Tim Curry’s voice lulling you both.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A firm hand shook Eddies shoulder, making him jump awake. He met the eyes of his uncle Wayne. “Oh hey,” he said voice thick with sleep.

“Hey, sorry to wake you, but you’re in my bed,” he motioned to the couch.

“Shit sorry Wayne.” Eddie slowly slid you off him, resting you softly on the cushions.

Back cracking lightly as he stretched, he reached down for you, pulling your sleeping figure into his arms. “We’ll get out of your way, and I’ll clean up in the morning.”

“It’s 5am it’s morning. Just keep it down okay, it’s been a long shift.”

“Sure, do you need anything?” The boy asked his uncle.

“Just some sleep, you get yourself and Y/N to bed Son. So get outta my room.”

“Night Wayne.” He grunted back at Eddie, turning off the TV, that had a static screen, and grabbed his blanket from the back.

Eddie held you close to his chest as he wandered to the bedroom, keeping you as comfy as he could. Laying you down gently, you whined lightly.

“It’s okay Sweet Girl go back to sleep, ,” he hushed, stroking your hair. Laying down next to you, he pulled the blanket over both of your figures.

Soon enough the room was full of your snores, reaching for one another even in your sleepy state. It had been a great night.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #joe quinn #joe quinn imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things imagine #fluff #imagine #oneshot #louloulemons

[bluerosefox]

Library Cryptid Danny

Guys. What if, hear me out, Danny is that rumored (never aging) spooky ghost story people tell each other. (Only its somewhat real, cause Danny is half ghost and is aging slowly) Like imagine Danny 'works' at the library in Gotham, he meets like Jason as a kid, helps him find a book and when Jason goes to thank him Danny is just gone. Then Dick comes to picks him up, asks how the library was, he explains only for Dick to look pale and staring at Jason a little freaked out cause Jason just described the guy he meet as a kid himself years ago, same name too, then when Bruce comes home, he too tells a story of running into Danny at the library. When he was a kid too.

Then it happens with Tim, Cass, Steph, Duke, even Damian later in the following years.

Basicly Danny is the rumored ghost story at the library. (He only 'works' there cause Ghostwriter library is connected to it via portal door that opens randomly and Danny is only there on certain times/days to make sure no one uses it and steers people away from it by helping and getting them out of the area. He's helping GW out as an apology for what started their Christmas fight, and if Gw lets him look at some rare space books/tomes than yeah, might as well)

#danny fenton #danny phantom #random idea #crossover #batman #dp x dc #writing ideas #blue rambles #bruce wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #Danny is the rumored library ghost #he didnt mean to be #but he is now #time in the zone is weird #like yeah hes a halfa so his aging is slow #but thats not why he looks so young despite being seen ages inbetween

[pensat-i-fet]

Can't sleep? (Rúben Dias x Reader) / Halloween '23

Masterlist

Wattpad

“Why do you have to play on Halloween? It’s so rude”.

You could hear Rúben laughing on the other side of the line. “Well, it’s not as if it’s a holiday like Christmas so…”.

“But I wanted to spend the night with you watching movies and giving sweets to the kids”.

“No one will go to our apartment to ask for sweets”.

“And so I’ll have to eat them all by myself. Alone. Can’t you fake an injury?”

“I’ll be back around midnight. That’s spooky. We can fall asleep watching a horror movie and I’ll protect you when you have nightmares”.

“I don’t get nightmares from watching movies”, you snorted.

“What about that time…”.

“Good luck at the match, Rúben. See you later!”

His laugh was still audible before you hung up the phone. But you were honest. Horror movies didn’t really scare you. That’s why you had planned on watching terrifying ones this year. Or what the YouTube video you watched called “the most disturbing movies ever made”. But honestly, how bad could they actually be?

You really got everything ready for the night. The cosy blankets, the blackish green popcorn from Aldi that was supposed to look spooky and hopefully tasted like normal popcorn, the sweets, …and the movies. The first one was a French one called Martyrs. You always loved the way the French language sounded so surely that would make the movie less disturbing. And you could just look at the subtitles if things got too much. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Not long after the movie started, you realised what a big mistake you had made. But being stubborn could be good sometimes…however, it often was a bit of a curse. You decided to watch that movie and you were going to watch the whole movie. Even if it scarred you for life. You were not going to quit.

The thing was that you were so shocked by everything going on in the movie, that when Rúben came back, you almost had a heart attack hearing the door open and close.

“Aahhhhhh!!”

“What’s going on?”, he asked, running to the living room to see if you were ok. “What happened?”

“You scared me”, you said. And then Rúben realised you were shaking and looked at the screen.

“What on earth are you watching?”

He took the remote from your hand and exited the movie. Then turned to look at you.

“Are you actually ok?”

“Yeah, just traumatised for life. But I wanted to see a really scary movie”.

“Without me?”, you nodded. “You don’t need to prove you’re brave. Let’s go to bed. I’ll hold you tight for when you inevitably have nightmares”.

“Can we watch a movie together?”

“A comedy?”

“No, a scary movie. But not as scary as this one”.

“We can watch Scary Movie”.

You rolled your eyes and followed him to the bedroom. Rúben turned the living room’s light off, as he always did, and you ran to the bedroom. Being in the dark at that moment didn’t sound appealing at all.

“I mean, we could watch I know what you did last summer or something cheesy like that”, he offered.

“Sounds good. Let’s get ready for bed”.

Rúben’s movie choice was perfect. A cheesy slasher that wasn’t scary at all and you knew so well, that not even the jumpscares scared you anymore. But then…you heard a noise.

“What is that?”

“Oh, it’s super windy outside. Don’t worry about it”.

“Right…”.

“It was a crazy landing. For once, I wish we had travelled by bus”.

You chuckled at that and continued watching the movie…until there was another noise.

“You sure it’s just the wind?”

“Yes”, he said, looking down at you with a soft expression. “And if it’s a monster, I’ll kill it before it gets to you”.

You shook your head, moving even closer to Rúben. And eventually fell asleep. When he noticed, he moved your body gently so you would be more comfortable and turned off the TV. Time for him to sleep too.

But the wind was making so much noise. It kind of sounded like someone was trying to open the windows. “It’s just the wind, Rúben”, he told himself and closed his eyes again…and then another noise. That was a door slamming shut. But was it at their apartment or somewhere else? Maybe someone left a balcony door open and the wind closed it? Or someone was opening a balcony door to get inside an apartment.

Looking down at you, he saw you were sleeping peacefully. How could you when he saw just a small part of the movie you were watching and almost threw up? Maybe you were the bravest one out of the two after all.

He had to leave the room and see everything was properly closed…and that there was no one inside the apartment. How ridiculous. He was a grown man, scared after watching half of a horror movie.

“Rúben?”

“Ahhhh!”, it was now his turn to scream.

“Oh my God, honey. I didn’t want to scare you. What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep because of the wind and I was checking everything was ok around the place”.

“Is it?”, you asked, biting your lip because he was too funny.

“I think so”.

“Ok, let’s go back to bed then. I’ll protect you from the monsters”.

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x yn #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer fluff #footballer x reader #footballer imagines

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Forever At The Pumpkin Patch.

fictober masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - wow, my first fic from my 'halloween chronicals' and i cannot wait for you to read what i have written for you all!

word count - 4.4k

in which, your boyfriend knew that halloween was your favourite holiday of the year, you tended to go all out, you liked to dress up in extravagant costumes, you decorated your shared house more than you did at christmas and made little goody bags to give to the children that knocked on your door. after being together for a total of four years, your lover boy organises a candle lit picnic at your favourite spot, the pumpkin patch where he asks you a very important question.

trope: boyfriend!harry

Halloween is your favorite time of the year, and there's an undeniable magic that surrounds it. The anticipation starts building as soon as the leaves begin to change, and the air gets a chill. What you love most about this bewitching season is the opportunity it offers to express your creativity and indulge in some delightful traditions.

Each year, you eagerly await the chance to dive into your costume collection. Dressing up in different costumes is an absolute highlight of Halloween for you. It's like stepping into a new character's shoes, even if just for a night. From classic monsters to iconic movie characters, you relish the chance to transform yourself into someone or something entirely different. Whether it's crafting a homemade costume or scouring the stores for the perfect ensemble, the excitement of choosing a new identity adds a sense of adventure to the season.

Decorating for Halloween is another aspect that fills you with immense joy. In fact, you go all out, sometimes even more so than you do for Christmas. The house becomes a spooky spectacle, adorned with cobwebs, glowing pumpkins, eerie skeletons, and ghostly figures. It's the perfect opportunity to let your imagination run wild and turn your home into a haunted haven that sends shivers down the spines of all who pass by. The ambiance created by these decorations truly embodies the spirit of Halloween.

One of your cherished Halloween traditions is preparing little goody bags for the children who knock on your door. As darkness falls, the excitement in the air is palpable, and the sound of children's laughter and eager footsteps approaching your doorstep is enchanting. You carefully assemble these treat-filled bags with an assortment of candies, small toys, and spooky surprises, ensuring that each one is a delightful treasure trove for the young trick-or-treaters. Seeing their faces light up with joy as they receive these goody bags is incredibly rewarding and keeps the spirit of Halloween alive for you.

In the end, Halloween isn't just a holiday; it's a magical celebration of your imagination, creativity, and community. It's a time when you can let your inner child run free, embracing the thrill of dressing up, decorating with abandon, and sharing the joy with the little ghouls and goblins who come knocking at your door. Halloween is a special time when you feel truly connected to the spirit of the season, and you eagerly await its arrival year after year.

It was 31st October, at four in the afternoon, You find yourself standing in the kitchen, a warm and cosy atmosphere filling the room. The enticing aroma of toffee apples wafts through the air, and you can't help but feel a sense of joy as you prepare this Halloween treat. You're dressed in nothing but one of your boyfriend's oversized shorts and a pair of his boxers, topped off with fluffy socks that keep your feet snug against the cool kitchen floor.

As you stir the bubbling toffee mixture on the stovetop, the catchy tune of "Monster Mash" fills the kitchen, courtesy of a nearby speaker.

You can't resist the urge to sing along with Bobby Pickett's classic song. With a grin, you belt out the lyrics,

"He did the mash, he did the monster mash,"

Whilst swaying your hips playfully to the rhythm as you continue to stir.

The sugary concoction in the pot thickens, and you dip the apples one by one, coating them in the sticky, sweet toffee. The chorus of the song approaches, and you sing with even more enthusiasm,

"It was a graveyard smash!" Your voice fills the kitchen, blending with the upbeat melody, creating a spontaneous moment of pure Halloween delight.

After carefully setting the toffee-coated apples on a parchment-lined tray to cool, you take a moment to enjoy the whimsy of it all. Your makeshift Halloween outfit – those oversized shorts and boxers – reminds you that this holiday is all about having fun and letting loose. It's a time when dressing up doesn't have to be elaborate; it can be as relaxed and spontaneous as your current attire.

As you savour the toffee apples, you can't help but let your mind wander to memories of Halloween's past. Each year, you've embraced this holiday with creativity and enthusiasm, from crafting costumes to decorating your home with spooky delights. It's a time when you feel truly alive, and the joy of the season infuses every aspect of your day, from making toffee apples to singing along to "Monster Mash."

With a satisfied sigh, you turn off the music and take a moment to revel in the warm, cosy kitchen and the delicious treats you've created. Halloween, with all its traditions and whimsy, brings a special kind of magic to your life, and you can't wait to share these toffee apples with friends and loved ones, knowing that they'll appreciate the spooky fun just as much as you do.

As you're about to walk out of the kitchen, a sense of accomplishment washes over you. Your toffee apples are cooling, and you turn, ready to leave the cozy haven of the kitchen. However, when you glance toward the doorway, you're met with a surprising sight. Your boyfriend, Harry, is leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, wearing a mischievous smirk that sends a shiver down your spine. You didn't even hear him enter the house.

You can't help but let out a startled shriek, your heart racing from the sudden surprise.

"H, you scared me!" you exclaim, your voice a mix of astonishment and delight.

He chuckles, pushing himself away from the doorway.

"Come on, give me a hug, y’know v’missed m’favorite girl." he says, his tone playful as he extends his arms toward you.

But you, still caught off guard and determined to return the favor, shake your head with a sly, playful smirk. "No way! You scared me fair and square!"

Undeterred, Harry takes purposeful steps toward you, his eyes locked onto yours. Before you can react, he scoops you up effortlessly, making you involuntarily wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. It happens so quickly that you can't help but laugh, the tension from your initial scare melting away.

With a grin, Harry holds you close, his voice a warm, low murmur in your ear. "Well, now that V’got you, m’not letting y’go."

You playfully roll your eyes but tighten your hold around him, your heart filled with love and happiness.

Harry places you gently on the kitchen countertop, and he steps in between your legs, his hands finding their familiar path as he runs them up and down your arms. It's a comforting and affectionate gesture, one that never fails to make you feel cherished.

With a soft smile, he asks, "So, how was y’day, m’love?"

You lean in, enjoying the closeness, and reply, "Well, it was pretty fantastic until you startled me in the kitchen, Mr. Sneaky. But now it's absolutely perfect."

Harry chuckles, a warm and genuine sound. "I promise, I'll make it up to you."

And he always lived up to his promises when it came to you.

With your curiosity piqued, you ask, "And how was your day at the studio?"

His eyes light up as he starts talking about his day, "Was great, actually. We made some good progress on those new songs we've been working on. I think y’going t’love em’."

You smile, genuinely interested in his music and the passion he pours into it. "I can't wait to hear them. You always make the best music."

His fingers trail back up your arms, and he leans in closer, his voice low and intimate. "M’lucky t’have y’as my biggest fan."

You can't help but blush at his sweet words, and you wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him in for a tender kiss. It's a moment of pure affection and love, where words aren't necessary to convey the depth of your feelings for each other.

Harry, standing between your legs and continuing to run his hands up and down your arms, suddenly leans in and whispers, "V’got a surprise f’you tonight, m’love."

You tilt your head, intrigued. "A surprise? What's the occasion?"

He smiles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "No occasion, just a little something t’save us the hassle of cooking tonight."

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you inquire, "Oh, really? Where are we going?"

Harry grins and leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he says, "S’a surprise, babe."

You pout playfully, "Come on, give me a hint!"

He chuckles, "Nope, not a chance. You'll find out soon enough."

But then, as you enjoy the warmth of his embrace, a thought strikes you. "Wait a minute, H. What about the goody bags I made for the kids? I don't want them to go to waste."

Harry furrows his brow for a moment, then his face lights up with a solution. "Well, here's the plan. V’booked a table f’us at eight o'clock, before that, y’can still give out the goody bags t’the little trick-or-treaters. How does that sound?"

Your eyes twinkle with gratitude as you realise Harry's thoughtful gesture. "That sounds perfect, H. You're the best."

He smiles and places a gentle kiss on your lips. "Anything f’you, love. Now, let's enjoy our night out and make Halloween even more special."

You nudge your nose closer to Harry's, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and say with a sly grin, "So, we've got a bit of time then?"

Harry's eyes meet yours, and he responds in a low, husky tone, "Yes, we do."

With that, you wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, and you whisper seductively, "I want to thank you for organising tonight, upstairs."

Harry's speech momentarily deserts him as he's taken aback by your unexpected boldness. He nods his head, unable to find any words to respond.

Not wanting to let the moment linger too long, you hop off the countertop and grab hold of his hand, tugging him gently. "Come on, then. Let's not waste any more time."

With a knowing smile, Harry allows you to lead him out of the kitchen and up the stairs. The anticipation of what's to come adds an extra layer of excitement to this already memorable Halloween evening.

The soft, early evening light filters through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. You sit gracefully at your vanity, the polished surface reflecting your image back at you as you put the finishing touches on your ensemble.

Your dress, chosen with care, drapes elegantly around you, a warm shade of orange that shimmers in the gentle light. And gives off the impressions that it’s Halloween. The fabric feels cool against your skin, a contrast to the warmth of anticipation that courses through you. The neckline of the dress showcases your collarbone, adorned with a delicate necklace that glints with a solitary pendant.

Your fingers, adorned with delicate rings, move with practiced precision as you pick up a pair of exquisite earrings. The intricate design of these earrings catches the light, scattering it into a dazzling display of sparkle and shine. You slip them into your earlobes, and they hang there, framing your face like twinkling stars in the night sky.

A sweep of mascara enhances your lashes, framing your eyes, while a touch of eyeshadow brings out their mesmerizing color. You admire the reflection in the vanity mirror, a vision of elegance and beauty, all ready for the evening ahead.

The room is filled with a subtle fragrance, a floral perfume that envelops you in a delicate embrace. As you gaze at your reflection one last time, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. You're not just dressing up; you're preparing for a night of shared moments, laughter, and connection with someone special.

As you're putting the finishing touches on your ensemble, the doorbell rings, its cheerful chime resonating through the house. You glance out of the bedroom window overlooking the driveway and spot a group of excited little kids standing at your front door. Their eager faces are illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light, and you can't help but smile at the sight.

With a burst of energy, you race out of the room, past Harry who's meticulously fixing his hair in the hallway mirror. You hear him chuckling at your sudden sprint as you rush down the stairs, your heart filled with warmth and joy.

In a hurry, you grab the box of goody bags you prepared earlier, feeling the weight of anticipation as you make your way to the front door. You can't wait to see the smiles on the faces of these young trick-or-treaters.

As you swing open the door, you're met with a chorus of excited voices and colourful costumes. "Trick or treat!" they shout in unison, their eyes wide with anticipation.

You grin down at the little witches, ghosts, and superheroes on your doorstep.

"Well, don't you all look amazing! Happy Halloween!" you exclaim.

The children eagerly extend their candy bags, and you start handing out the goody bags you prepared with care.

"Here you go, sweetie," you say to each child, making sure they each receive a bag filled with treats and small toys.

One young pirate with a plastic eyepatch looks up at you with wide eyes and says, "Thank you so much! Your house is the best!"

You can't help but laugh at their enthusiasm. "You're very welcome! Have a fantastic Halloween night, everyone!"

As you close the front door behind you, a sense of contentment lingers from the cheerful encounter with the trick-or-treaters. The warmth of their smiles and the joy of sharing the Halloween spirit still linger in your heart.

However, just as you're about to turn around and join Harry, you feel a sudden pair of strong arms wrapping around your waist. A startled gasp escapes your lips as you're once again caught off guard.

Harry chuckles softly, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he asks, "Did I scare y’again?"

You turn to face him, a playful pout on your lips. "You certainly did, Harry, baby."

With a mischievous grin, he says, "Well, are y’ready t’get going soon?"

You nod, feeling a rush of excitement for the evening ahead. "Just let me put my shoes on, and I'll be all set."

Harry releases you from his embrace, and you quickly slip on your shoes. As you stand up and adjust your outfit one last time, you take Harry's hand, feeling the warmth and strength in his grasp.

He’s wearing orange as well seeing as he instead that the two of you match. His suit jacket is a warm orange almost burned orange with a pair of beige, green and red stripped trousers, a white vest under neath the jacket with a pair of vans.

As you finish putting on your shoes, Harry approaches you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and his hands hidden behind his back. You tilt your head to the side, a playful smile curving your lips, and ask, "Baby, what are you up to now?"

With a grin, he reveals his hands, holding up an eye sleep mask. You burst into laughter, the unexpectedness of the item catching you off guard. "An eye mask? What's that for?"

Harry chuckles and shrugs, a mischievous sparkle still in his eyes. "Well, I didn't ‘ave a blindfold handy, so I thought this would ‘ave t’do."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "A blindfold? Why do I need a blindfold?"

He smirks and takes a step closer, the eye mask still in hand. "S’a surprise, m’sun."

You can't help but grin at his playful insistence.

As he gently ties the eye sleep mask around your eyes, you're plunged into darkness, your other senses heightened in anticipation. You hear his soft voice by your ear as he whispers, "Just a little longer, and you'll see."

As you ride along in the car, your senses are heightened by the darkness of the eye sleep mask Harry placed over your eyes. You can feel the subtle vibrations of the road beneath you, and the sound of the engine purring is your only connection to the outside world. The anticipation of where you're heading fills the car, and you can't help but wonder where this surprise will lead.

Your excitement bubbles over as you sit back in your seat, trying to piece together clues from the sounds and sensations around you. You feel the car slowing down, the engine settling into a quiet hum as it comes to a stop.

You can hear the car doors opening, and the cool night air flows in, carrying with it the scents and sounds of your mysterious destination.

As you carefully step out of the car, Harry quickly comes around to your side, extending a helping hand to ensure you exit safely. The night air is crisp and filled with a mix of earthy scents and distant laughter, further deepening the sense of mystery that surrounds your romantic adventure.

Harry takes your hand, leading you somewhere, though you have no idea where. You can feel twigs scratching at the bottoms of your legs and the occasional crunch beneath your feet, which you assume to be leaves scattered on the ground. Your sense of curiosity heightens as you try to navigate the path, relying solely on Harry's guidance.

Despite his careful assistance, you find yourself stumbling over the uneven terrain. In a playful tone, you tease, "Is this where you finally kill me?"

Harry, always quick with a witty response, leans closer and whispers in your ear with mock seriousness, "Y’just become too annoying."

But before you can react, he bursts into laughter, and you can't help but join in. His playful nature adds an element of lightness to the evening, reminding you of the deep connection and laughter you share together.

As you continue walking, following Harry's guidance and playfully tripping over the uneven ground, you suddenly come to a stop. You feel his hands gently settle on your waist, steadying you with a sense of purpose.

With a soft and affectionate tone, Harry informs you, "We've arrived, m’love."

Your heart flutters with anticipation as his hand comes up to your face, fingers finding the edge of the eye mask. He slowly, very slowly, starts to pull it off. As the fabric gradually peels away from your eyes, the world around you begins to reveal itself.

The sight that unfolds before you takes your breath away. The entire Pumpkin Patch, where you had your first date four years ago, has been transformed into a scene of enchantment. Fairy lights twinkle in the trees above, casting a warm, inviting glow over the area. A red carpet pathway leads the way, drawing your eyes to a charming picnic set up in the middle of the field.

The picnic area is adorned with soft blankets and plump cushions, a low table adorned with flickering candles, and a spread of delectable treats and your favourite dishes. It's a scene straight out of a fairy tale, bathed in the soft, romantic ambiance of the evening.

The fairy lights, the red carpet, the romantic picnic – it's all too much, and you can hardly believe your eyes. In a state of wonder, you turn to Harry and stammer, "How... How did you organize all of this?"

Harry chuckles, a glint of amusement in his eyes, and teases, "Well, m’love, being famous does have its perks, y’know."

You playfully roll your eyes at his modesty, knowing that it must have taken a great deal of planning and effort to arrange such a magical evening. With a heart full of love and gratitude, you give him a warm hug, feeling incredibly lucky to be sharing this unforgettable moment with him.

With Harry holding his hands out for you to hold onto, you walk together on the plush red carpet that leads to the charming picnic area. The soft glow of the fairy lights above creates a magical pathway, and each step feels like a journey through time and love.

As you arrive at the picnic spot, the two of you settle down on the soft blankets and plump cushions. It's then that you notice something truly heartwarming. Pictures of you and Harry throughout your relationship are delicately displayed on branches of the trees, held up by ribbons swaying gently in the breeze.

You can't help but lean into Harry's side, a contented smile on your face as you admire the photos above you. They capture moments of joy, laughter, and love from your journey together. Each image tells a story, and together, they form a beautiful tapestry of your shared history.

Harry's arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer as you both gaze up at the memories hanging in the air. It's a touching tribute to your relationship, a reminder of the love that has grown and deepened over the years.

With the pictures of your shared memories above, you turn to Harry, your heart warmed by the enchanting atmosphere he's created. You ask with curiosity, "So, what have you prepared for our picnic?"

He grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement, and begins to describe a mouthwatering array of dishes, all of your favorite foods. From savory snacks to delectable desserts, each item is carefully chosen to delight your taste buds and make this night truly unforgettable.

As he finishes detailing the menu, you can't help but lean in to kiss him, your lips meeting in a sweet and affectionate embrace. It's your way of expressing how touched you are by his thoughtfulness and attention to detail.

With a playful glint in his eye, Harry picks up a chocolate-covered strawberry and holds it out to you. His fingers delicately feed you the sweet treat, the rich chocolate and ripe strawberry creating a burst of flavor that dances on your tongue. It's a small, intimate moment, but it carries the weight of all the love and care he's poured into this evening.

With a touch of elegance, Harry reaches for a bottle of champagne, the soft pop of the cork resonating in the air as he expertly opens it. He carefully pours the effervescent liquid into two crystal-clear flutes, the bubbles rising like a toast to the evening's enchantment.

As he hands you a glass, the bubbly liquid dancing with anticipation, you clink your flutes together with a cheerful "Cheers!" The sound reverberates in the air, and you take a sip, savoring the crisp, celebratory taste.

With a smile, Harry raises his glass and says, "To the future."

You pause, a slight hint of confusion flickering across your features. But, not wanting to dwell on it, you quickly catch on and raise your glass again, chiming in with a warm smile, "To the future."

As the evening unfolds, and about half an hour has passed since you started your picnic in the enchanting Pumpkin Patch, you and Harry have talked about everything under the moonlight. The shared memories, dreams, and laughter have woven a tapestry of warmth around you, making the night feel like a timeless moment.

While you're enjoying a delicious ham and cucumber sandwich, Harry looks at you with a thoughtful expression. He asks, "Ave’ y’ever thought about the future?"

With a smile, you nod and take another bite of your sandwich before responding, "Oh, all the time. I can't wait to grow old with you, get married, have children – mini versions of you and me running around. The future is something I think about a lot."

With the night sky overhead and the soft glow of fairy lights creating a romantic ambiance, Harry looks deeply into your eyes and says, "I can't wait any longer."

Your brow furrows in confusion, and you ask, "Can't wait for what, baby? What are you talking about?"

His eyes shimmer with affection as he replies, "I can't wait any longer to do this."

Before you can react, Harry takes your hand and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box.

Your heart skips a beat as he opens it to reveal a glistening engagement ring. In that moment, you realise what he meant, and your eyes fill with tears of joy.

With your heart racing and tears of joy welling up in your eyes, Harry stands up, gently pulling you up with him. You're overwhelmed by a mix of emotions, covering your face with your hands as if to shield yourself from the magnitude of what's happening.

Amidst the soft glow of the fairy lights and the magical ambiance of The Pumpkin Patch, Harry crouches down on one knee, his expression filled with love and determination. He takes a deep breath and reaches out, gently grabbing ahold of your hand, the engagement ring glinting in the moonlight.

In that moment, time seems to stand still as you realize that the love of your life is about to ask the most important question you've ever heard. Your heart pounds with anticipation as you anxiously await his words, the future you've dreamed of suddenly taking shape before your eyes.

In the soft glow of the fairy lights, surrounded by the enchantment of The Pumpkin Patch, Harry looks deeply into your eyes, his voice filled with love and sincerity. He begins, "Y’know, from the moment we met, m’life changed in ways I could ‘ave never imagined. Every day with y’has been an adventure, a journey filled with laughter, love, and countless memories."

You can hardly believe what's happening, your hands still covering your face, but your eyes peeking through, glistening with tears of joy. Harry continues, his words carrying the weight of a promise, "V’dreamt about our future together, and I can't wait any longer t’make it a reality."

With that, he opens the small velvet box, revealing the dazzling engagement ring that seems to catch every glimmer of light around it. Your heart flutters in your chest as you gaze at the ring, a symbol of the love you share.

Harry takes a deep breath, his eyes locked onto yours as he speaks from the depths of his heart, "Will you marry me, (Y/N)? Will y’be m’partner in all the adventures that life has in store f’us? Will y’share y’laughter, y’love, and y’dreams with me f’the rest of our lives?"

Tears stream down your cheeks as you slowly lower your hands from your face, revealing a radiant smile that shines through your joyful tears. You manage to find your voice, your response filled with emotion, "Yes, Harry, a thousand times yes! I want to marry you, and I can't wait to share every moment of our future together."

As you say these words, Harry's face lights up with happiness. He slips the ring onto your finger, and the two of you share a passionate, tearful embrace. In this magical moment beneath the twinkling fairy lights, you know that your love story is forever bound by the promise of a future filled with endless love, laughter, and adventures yet to be written.

As you and Harry share a passionate, tearful embrace, he brings you close and presses his lips to yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. In that moment, words seem unnecessary as your love and connection speak volumes.

He murmurs softly against your lips, "Maybe the pumpkin patch can be our forever?"

Tears of joy continue to stream down your face as you pull him closer and kiss him again, sealing your love and the promise of a beautiful forever together beneath the twinkling fairy lights of The Pumpkin Patch. It's a moment you'll cherish for a lifetime, a symbol of the love and commitment that binds your hearts.

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fake ig #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x oc #musicforastylesrestaurant #harrystylesdrabble #harry styles fake social media #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harrystylesxreader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #harry’s house #harrystylesxyn

[headfullofpresley]

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧' 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 4,5K

Summary: You and Elvis are always playing pranks on each other. This Halloween, you come up with a prank that goes horribly wrong as Elvis doesn't think it's so funny and gets genuinely upset. But like always, your partner eventually comes around and gets his revenge.

Warnings: strong language, playing with a ouija board, fake demonic possession, mentions of the devil, elvis being upset, elvis calling reader a bitch, pranks that you probs shouldn't use on other people, tiny bit of angst, reader and larry gellar disliking each other. guess that's it?

A/N: hello, hi! i guess this isn't really spooky but felt like it fit the season! there's pranks in this that i don't advise you to use on anyone unless that's you're kind of humor. wrote this in an hour or so because it randomly popped into my mind and well... i thought it was funny 👀. just want to make clear that this is in no way me making fun of elvis' spirituality in any way, nor is reader, if some people might think thatttt or if it comes across as that. just wanted to write something else rather than a vamp!elvis fic like my brain already was thinking about for halloween, AAAAH. also, this doesn't include all members of the mm or any of the other guys because i didn't know where to place them. okay, bye. p.s: be a smart cookie and don't use a ouija board.

Elvis didn’t care for Halloween.

Never did when he was young and never did as he was growing into an adult. Sure, when he was a little boy and his friends would drag him along to go trick or treating he could appreciate the free candy, but that was about it. After complaining about the people in scary costumes on the street when he was around 7, his mother stopped him from going out on All Hallow’s Eve and he appreciated her doing so.

As he got older, he’d usually be working on the last day of October and whenever he wasn’t, he would rent out the Memphian and watch horror movies with the guys, other friends and some of his fans. He enjoyed playing pranks and scaring the shit out of the people around him, but that’s where celebrating Halloween ended for Elvis.

His Christianity or beliefs didn’t have anything to do with it. He simply preferred holidays that involved lots of homecooked foods, spreading joy, giving gifts and being surrounded by his loved ones. Like Thanksgiving and especially, Christmas.

You on the other hand are obsessed with Halloween. You always put a lot of effort in your costumes and Elvis allowed you to put carved pumpkins by the front door with a lit candle inside of it, but he wouldn’t celebrate with you in any other way than watching movies. You were too old to go trick or treating, so you were happy when Lisa Marie was over at Graceland on some Halloween evenings to do so with her, but this year she unfortunately was in California with her mother.

 

This Halloween you put little effort into your costume, opting for a black cat suit with a tail, some drawn on whiskers that complimented the dark eye make-up you were sporting, and a pair of black cat ears. Elvis wasn’t complaining because you looked smoking hot in it, but he wasn’t aware that you chose this simple outfit because you had bigger plans for tonight that involved… well, let’s say, a lot of action.

After watching a few movies at the Memphian with Elvis, some fans and the guys, you all made it back to Graceland. It was only around 1 in the morning which was early for the bunch you were living with, so nobody was tired yet. Which was good, because you and Charlie Hodge had come up with the perfect prank to play on Elvis and the two of you managed to convince everyone to get involved in it.

The only one who wasn’t up for it was Larry Gellar and you were slightly worried that he’d out your little plan and ruin the whole thing. You were praying that he’d just go home already, but much to your chagrin, he was sitting on the couch and conversing with Elvis, not looking as if he’d leave any time soon. You were just going to have to risk it.

“Let’s play a game!” You chirped happily as you held up a plastic bag, pulling off your cat tail and throwing it by the side of the couch. “I found this today at the store. The sales girl told me it’s the perfect game to play during Halloween, because then you know it really works,”

Elvis watches with curiosity as you pull a large box out of the bag, turning it around and showing him the front. As he realises you were holding up a ouija board, he was immediately intrigued. Ever the curious person, especially when it came to things about spirituality, Elvis slides to the edge of the couch and takes the box out of your hands, opening the lid to take the board out and inspect it.

“Hell no, I ain’t playin’ that,” Lamar immediately says as he glances at the board and you try to suppress a grin. His reaction was the one you told him to give. If Lamar would play, Elvis was going to take the chance to tease the hell out of him for a week straight because Lamar scared easily when it came to these things.

“Ah c’mon, Fike. It’ll be fun,” Elvis grins as he places the board in the middle of the coffee table. You give Charlie a quick thumbs up and he grins, agreeing to play the game. Sonny and Red agree as well, but Larry decides to sit this one out. You were happy about that and as you go around the living room to dim the lights and light some candles, you feel instantly annoyed when you hear Larry’s voice.

“Elvis, I don’t think this is a good idea. Playing with an object like that can be dangerous, you know?” Larry chimes in, looking at Elvis with worried eyes. Never really having liked Larry, you roll your eyes. Elvis doesn’t see it but Red does and he sticks his finger in his mouth, feigning a gag. The two of you silently laugh and you sit down on the floor by the table, Elvis sliding onto the floor next to you.

“It’s not dangerous, baby. It’s just a game,” you quickly tell Elvis as Larry once more expresses his concern. Elvis looks at Larry once more before he turns to you and grins, kissing the corner of your mouth as he grabs the planchet and puts it on the board. Larry gives you an annoyed glare and you ignore it, happy that he decides to retreat back into the kitchen. Joe sits back on the couch along with Billy to watch the game unfold, simply because there wasn’t enough space for more fingers on the planchet.

 

“You sneaky sonofabitch. You’re the one movin’ that thing!” Elvis exclaims in slight annoyance as he glares at Sonny who sat on the opposite side of the table. Sonny widens his eyes, trying his best to hold back a laugh as he shakes his head.

“I swear to God, I ain’t doin’ it!”

You and Charlie exchange a knowing look. It was the two of you taking turns sneakily moving the planchet with the tips of your fingers, but Elvis didn’t notice a thing. He was too intrigued and focused on the words “it”, or in this case you, were spelling out. You hadn’t propeely opened communication or whatsoever, so the board wasn’t working at all. You believed that a ouija board could truly work if you wanted it to and you could communicate with… well, someone or something, but that wasn’t the intention for tonight.

You just wanted to play the prank of the century on your man like he has done to you so many times before.

All of you ask random questions at first that require simple answers. Then you decide to take matters further into your own hands and add up the dramatics a notch. You needed it to be spooky. Elvis doesn’t scare easily, the morgue trips he often makes with you were proof of that, and you want him to be terrified tonight.

“Someone dies tonight.”

All of you exchange uncomfortable glances, though only that of Elvis was real. He shifts a little on the floor and takes his finger off the planchet, accusing Charlie instead of Sonny now.

“Hodge, stop pullin’ my leg with this bullshit!” He huffs and Charlie widens his eyes, scared that you and him got caught, and just as he opens his mouth to defend his case, you speak up.

“Elvis! You’re not allowed to take your hands off of it without saying goodbye!” You grab his hand and bring it back to the board, putting his finger back on the planchet. He looks at you and scoffs, squinting his eyes.

“Oooh, I see. It’s you, ain’t it?”

You mentally curse yourself. Was your acting that bad? Shaking your head as you give him your most serious face, you tell him that it’s truly not you who is moving the planchet and before he can question you further, Charlie sneakily spells out something else.

“The girl.”

“That’s it. I ain’t playin’ no more. Say goodbye, goddamnit,” Elvis barks in annoyance. He wasn’t going to admit it out loud but he truly believed the planchet was moving by itself and spelling out these things. He was having fun when they started and asked random and silly questions, but now it was getting a little too serious for him.

A little too scary.

This thing was threatening your life and he felt a sense of paranoia fill his chest. What if you’d really die because of this stupid game?

No. No, you weren’t going to die. It’s just a game. It’s not real- he refuses to believe it’s real.

You quickly say goodbye along with everyone else, moving the planchet over the word before taking your hands off. You bite your lip to hold back a laugh and wrap your arms around Elvis’ neck as he leans back against the couch, crossing his arms after he shoved the board across the table. You giggle softly and hug him, planting kisses on his cheek.

“Stop that worryin’. It’s just a game, El, nothing is going to happen.”

Although he doesn’t believe you and is still worried, he slides his arms around your waist and pulls you onto his lap, hugging you back.

 

You spent the rest of the late evening playing some music and Elvis doing a spontaneous jam session, which got his mind off of that damned ouija board. After all, it was just a game. Nothing was going to happen and tomorrow afternoon, he’d wake up with you in his arms.

Alive and well.

But as you two got upstairs to his bedroom and got ready for bed, he wasn’t going to take no risks. There was a baseball bat leaning against the wall by the door and a hand gun laying atop of his Bible on the bedside table. You look at it as you got into bed where Elvis already was, sitting against the headboard with the TV on.

“What are you gonna do? Shoot a ghost?” You joke with a soft snort and he looks at you, simply nodding his head.

“Hell. I will if I have to,”

“My protector,” You swoon playfully as you run your fingers through his hair, laughing. He chuckles softly and sighs, kissing your lips before he allows you to settle in the bed. You pretend to watch some TV with him but couldn’t contain your excitement, curious to know what his reaction was going to be when the best part of the prank would play out.

Since you fell asleep pretty quick most of the time, Elvis didn’t think anything of it when he heard you lightly snoring as you had turned your back to him. He had his arm leaning across your hip, needing to touch you in one way or another, always. Unbeknown to him, you were wide awake and looking at the alarm clock on your side of the bed. You had told Charlie to give you twenty minutes before you’d set things into motion and as that amount of time had passed, you started off your little prank slow.

Ease Elvis into it, so to speak.

 

Pretending you were having a nightmare, you twitch lightly while mumbling some soft incoherent sentences, moaning uncomfortably. Elvis who was still wide awake moves his hand from your hip to your hair, caressing it soothingly as he sits up a little to look over at you. Figuring you’re still sleeping, he leans back against the headboard of the bed but only a split second later, you suddenly shoot up to sit in the bed. Startled, his heart skips a beat and he quickly sits up again too, moving some of your hair over your shoulder. He’s familiar with sleepwalking, but he has never seen you do it before. He knows not to wake someone when they’re in a state like this nor call out their name, but his worries grow by tenfold as your body slumps against him.

And then starts twitching and goddamn near convulsing as you throw your head back. He widens his eyes in shock as your eyes roll in the back of your head, your arms hanging limp by your side. Holding your frame, he tries to keep you still as he cups your face.

“Y/N! Y/N!” He slaps your cheek softly, unsure of what to do in a situation like this. He curses loudly as he reaches over to the phone on the bedside table, putting it to his ear as he calls downstairs and yells to whoever is on the other end of the line to come upstairs.

Like clockwork, Charlie comes running in not much later and feignes a gasp at the sight of your state. Elvis looks over at him, desperate for help.

“Goddamnit, Charlie, do somethin’!” Elvis yells as your body seems to be twisting and turning into uncomfortable positions, arching your back as you let out deep groans and grunts. You didn’t even know your voice could get that low, but you were impressed by yourself.

An eerie feeling washes over Elvis and he slowly lets go of you as you push yourself out of arms, standing on top of the bed. And then you just start… laughing.

Like an absolute maniac.

The sound sent shivers down Elvis’ spine and he quickly got off the bed, standing next to Charlie as they both look at you, unsure of what was happening. Well, at least one of them. Charlie was completely sucked up into his role though and he took a step back, fear in his eyes.

He was a damn good actor.

Something clicked inside of Elvis’ brain as you look at him with a menacing look in your eyes, smirking like the Devil himself just walked into the room.

That goddamned board.

“Get my Bible,” Elvis orders Charlie, never taking his eyes off of you. Charlie does as he’s told and grasps the Bible from the bedside table, handing it to Elvis. The singer takes off the necklace he was wearing with a cross pendant hanging on the silver chain and hands it to Charlie, looking at the smaller male.

“Put this on her forehead,”

“Elvis...” Charlie widens his eyes, holding onto the necklace and pretending to be terrified of going near you. “Can’t we.. can’t we just call an ambulance?!”

Charlie was going to do whatever Elvis told him to do anyways because it makes the situation seem more natural but even if he wouldn’t be acting, the glare that Elvis gives him is enough to have him sprint into action. He runs over to the bed and pulls you down, keeping you down on the mattress as he presses the cross against your forehead. As you look at Charlie, you have to try your damnest not to ruin things and laugh, but luckily you manage to stay in your role.

Writhing on the bed and trying to get out of Charlie’s grip with what truly is little effort but looks like a lot, you let out a bloodcurdling scream. Elvis comes closer to the bed while he is quickly reciting any kind of prayer he thinks might work, reading psalm after psalm. He’s taken back for a second when you did what Charlie and you rehearsed- kicking the brunette off of you and making him land on the floor. You swear you could hear Charlie chuckling, but Elvis is only focused on you.

Now you are the one that is taken back as he gets on top of you and grabs your wrists, holding them above your head as he’s still reciting prayers. He’s yelling at the non existent demon inside of you to get the hell out and Charlie has to muffle a laugh in the palm of his hand, curious about what you were going to do because neither of you expected this.

You felt a laugh bubbling in the back of your throat, so before it could come out, you stop writhing on the bed and drop your head to the side, pretending that the prayers worked and it has all come to an end. Elvis sat on top of you for a few more minutes until he releases your hands and gets up, closing his Bible. He watches you, ready to once more go into action as he sees you casually sit up and get up from the bed. He frowns a little as you walk over to Charlie and hook your arm through his, clearing your throat.

“The end.” You and Charlie gracefully bow, bursting out into uncontrollable laughter.

Until you notice one person in the room isn’t laughing.

Feeling the mood shifting in the room and as if a thunderstorm just passed over Graceland, you stop laughing as you see Elvis glaring at the both of you. You walk over to him as he throws his Bible on the bed and cup his face, but he’s quick to swat your hands away and get back into his bed.

“Elvis, c’mon. Don’t be mad, baby. We were just having a little fun,” you laugh softly, sitting on the edge of his side of the bed. He turns his head to look at you, his blue eyes icy cold. You weren’t unfamiliar with that look but usually it was something more serious that brought it on and you never liked it.

But what you weren’t realising is that this was serious to Elvis. He thought he was going to lose you to some freaky demonic entity.

“Get out.” He simply states in a low voice, turning his head back to the TV that was still on. You look at Charlie and he gives you a little nod, taking you out of the room with him.

You succeeded in pranking the prank master, but you’re afraid you pushed him too far and that simply wasn’t worth it.

 

You figured Elvis would be over it by the day after Halloween and things would go back to normal. But then again, you know Elvis like the back of your hand and although you were not surprised by him ignoring you for a week straight, you were still hurt.

When he learned that all of the guys were involved in your little prank, he let them have a piece of his mind and that was that. But you were walking on eggshells. He even made you sleep in Lisa Marie’s bedroom for that entire week.

By Sunday night, you were fed up with it. Maybe you had taken things too far, but it was just idiotic that he wouldn’t even let you sleep in the same bed as him.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” He snaps as he watches you burst into the bedroom and get into the bed next to him, fluffing your pillow.

“What does it look like?” Maybe you don’t have the right to be annoyed with him, but you are. He knows how much you hate to be ignored and you’ve been worrying yourself all week with all sorts of doom scenarios, like him ending the relationship.

He grabs your arm to pull you out of bed but you sit up and pull your arm out of his grasp, the words flying rapidly off your tongue. “Good God, Elvis. I’ve told you I’m sorry about a thousand times, but you don’t wanna hear it! You haven’t spoken a word to me in a week. At least yell at me, be angry with me, do something!”

His nostrils flare as his jaw clenches and he sits up more straight, turning his body into your direction.

“You want me to yell? Be angry? Fine!” He barks harshly, his loud rich voice booming off the walls. “I thought I was gon’ fuckin’ lose you that damn night! I thought you really were gon’ die, Y/N. That there was some sonofabitch inside of ya who was takin’ ya away from me. If you think that’s so hilarious, well hell, then you really are an evil bitch,”

You weren’t hurt by him calling you a bitch. You and Elvis fought enough times in the past that involved ugly name calling but you always made up minutes later. It never lasted for days. But learning that he was truly afraid of losing you in that moment causes your heart to clench uncomfortably in your chest. You feel a pang of guilt in your gut and your shoulders slump, tears burning in your eyes as you could see a tear rolling down Elvis’ cheek. He quickly wipes it away and looks at the TV set, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Elvis, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” You exclaim breathlessly as you crawl closer to him and hide your face in his neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His body tenses up but then he quickly relaxes under your touch and wraps his arms around your frame, placing one hand on the back of your head to press you firmer against him. “i didn’t mean to scare you like that, I really didn’t. I just thought it would be a fun prank for Halloween. I never thought it’d turn out like this.”

It was never your intention to truly hurt Elvis or emotionally scare him. Deep down inside, Elvis knows this and he feels a little guilty about giving you the cold shoulder for a week, but he doesn’t feel the need to apologize to you for that. Instead, he accepts your apology with a long tender kiss and then cups your cheeks as he looks into your eyes.

“You can prank me, baby, jus’… no more pranks like that, okay?” He whispers as he brushes some hair out of your face, thumbing a tear away from the corner of your eye. You nod, promising him that you’ll never do something like this again and keep it at small pranks only.

 

That same night, you and Elvis stand outside at the back of Graceland, watching the ouija board melt into mush in the firepit.

He wasn’t going to take any chances and forbids you to play with a board like that for the rest of your life. You have no problem promising him that you will never touch another ouija board again and content with your answer, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and looks at the flames.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, Little,” he whispers as he presses his nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo before he kisses your head. You wrap your arm around his waist and hold him close as you nod, resting your head against his chest. “I can’t lose ya. Ever.”

“I promise, Elvis,” you say as you raise your head and look up at him, kissing his chin. “You’ll never lose me. Even the Devil can’t take me away from you.”

He grins at your words and pecks your lips, but then he pulls his head back and looks past you, frowning. Curious, you look over your shoulder and a hot feeling of fear immediately spreads throughout your chest, widening your eyes as you see two man wearing scary wolf masks stalking toward you and Elvis.

It was only you and your boyfriend at the house tonight, but still when one of the men grabs you and a few others that came from the other side of the premises grab Elvis, you scream at the top of your lungs for help. It doesn’t do much and your vision is taken from you as you’re being blindfolded, a hand being placed firmly over your mouth.

You were thrown in the back of a car and after driving for what felt like hours, you were being lifted out of the car. You couldn’t speak as one of the men had shoved what you guessed was a tie in your mouth because you wouldn’t stop cussing at them in the back of the car. You were surprised they hadn’t knocked you unconscious yet.

You were terrified of what was to come, but more so you were worried sick about Elvis. The last thing you had seen were a couple of masked maniacs overpowering him and dragging him away. Having no idea where he was or if he was even still alive, you were determined to break free and get out of where ever you were.

You needed to get to Elvis. The thought of never seeing him again made your head spin, feeling like you were about to either faint or be ill.

Despite your inner turmoil, you didn’t stop fighting your kidnappers. Not even as you were being placed on a chair, your hands tied behind your back and your ankles tied together. As the fabric was pulled out of your mouth, you were about to scream again until your blindfold was taken off. As your eyes adjust to your surroundings, you widen your eyes when you see Elvis and the Memphis Mafia standing in front of you, all wearing shit eating grins.

You realise you’re sitting in the pool room.

The guys all burst out into rumbling laughter, Elvis included, and he bends down to be at your eye level, his hands placed on his knees as he grins.

“Honey, I’m gon’ say this once and for all,” he bites his lip as he laughs, that mischievous little boy gleam in his eyes. “Don’t prank the master.”

You sarcastically laugh along with him as he unties you, glaring at Lamar who was having an uncontrollable fit of giggles when he tells you you should’ve seen yourself when him and Sonny were driving you around the block to make you think you were being taken somewhere else.

You stand up from the chair as Elvis has let you free and grab a poolstick from the wall. Red snickers.

“We should probably start runnin’ now, huh?”

“Yup.” Elvis smirks, popping the ‘P’ as he shoves the guys out of the way and starts making a run for it. You were immediately hot on all of their heels, your main suspect being Elvis, as you yell profanities at them while trying not to laugh.

Both you and Elvis know that this was only the start of what would become a very, very long prank war and you’re determined to take his title away from him, although you doubted you’d succeed at that.

As long as it didn’t involve ouija boards and any kind of demonic possession, Elvis was ready for whatever you had planned for him. But just to be absolutely sure, he made a mental reminder to have Lisa Marie stay at Graceland for Halloween next year so he could benefit of the free candy and admire your matching costumes with his daughter rather than thinking he was going to have to give you up to the Devil.

Because one way or another, he would shoot the sonofabitch.

taglist: @notstefaniepresley @powerofelvis @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @ccab @whatstruthgottodowithit @dkayfixates @lettersfromvenus @elvisalltheway101 @that-hotdog @robinismywife @jaqueline19997 @raginginkedslut @joshuntildawn13 @claire-elvisgirl

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis prompt #elvis presley prompt #elvis headcanons #elvis presley headcanons #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #elvis halloween #elvis fans #tamwrites

[postmodernbeliever]

not for a second longer - fox mulder x female reader (fluff)

fox is coming home from a case that's got him missing you like crazy, and you're (im)patiently waiting.

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my ao3 | word count: 3,070

content tags: dorks in love, fox mulder misses you, domestic fox mulder, fluff, domestic fluff, worry, romance, waiting, overthinking, fox is an idiot (/pos), reunited and it feels so good, just soft fluff that's all, cross-posted on ao3, mentions of murder/case material but briefly!

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fox felt like if another second passed without hearing your voice, he might go insane, and this was a first- even for a complete lover boy like him. 

the agent has been away on a case for a few days. not much shorter or longer than any other work he’s done, but this time he couldn’t bear being far from home. he’d done everything just as he always does- there were no changes in the routine he’s tailored since he met you. he called every night to let you know he was safe and hear about your day, even if it was late and he woke you up by doing so; he’d remind you to feed his fish, and ask you about that nagging coworker who the two of you nicknamed hannibal because he always brought something creepily edible for lunch (the man ate steak tartare like his life dependent on it, honestly.) and you’d complain, like always, and you’d ask how his case was going, which would lead to him willingly divulging all kinds of classified information just for fun. you’d offer advice if you could. you weren’t as invested in the paranormal as he was, but you’d had your share of spooky stories, so your middle-of-the-road perspective helped at times. the phone call was always the same, but it didn’t matter what you talked about. he just wanted to hear your voice as badly as you did his, and it put you both at ease. so he called. 

like clockwork, fox admired the engraved backside of his watch before he fell asleep every night, where it said don’t keep me waiting. it was an inside joke that sparked when you’d first started dating. fox warned you up and down about how dangerous his job can be, how he’s been injured and in and out of hospitals and how multiple criminals are likely sitting on plans for his murder if they ever break out of incarceration. he prepared to see you get overwhelmed and leave him due to the potential stress; yet when he packed up for his first case, you kissed him softly, no fear to be felt, and told him not to keep you waiting because you couldn’t promise to keep his fishes alive while he was gone. the watch was last christmas’ gift, and he never took it off, especially when he was away. 

fox even kept with his dorky tradition of taking one of the many shirts you’d left at his apartment and sleeping with it under his pillow, where he could hold onto it and feel like he at least had a piece of you while he was alone. when you found out he did such a thing, you teased him brutally, and then you began leaving clothes in every corner of the apartment for him to save. and you left your spare perfume bottle in his bathroom cabinet, so he could concentrate them with you. 

the man took all the cheesiest precautions to make his work out of state bearable until he could solve the damned things and get back home, but even with all of his bases covered, it wasn't enough. something felt different this time. coming back to a motel every night, like he had for his whole career before he met you, was torture. every moment of the case strung him farther out. now, if you’d asked the lovely and level-headed dana scully why fox was so eager to be done with the case, she would’ve given you a plain and simple explanation: the two were investigating a string of seemingly unrelated murders by men unto their girlfriends, but fox had a suspicion that some kind of entity persuaded each man to kill the girl who kept their beds warm. and with every day that they didn’t track the cause down, he felt the pressing weight of your safety and how much he cared for you, and it was making him- as scully would kindly put it, of course- act out extremely irrationally. even you could put two and two together there, but he’d been a bit avoidant over the phone about this one job, so you didn’t know. fox refused to think about you in connection to the work, though, because to allow his brain to cross its signals and imagine you and him as victim and suspect (as a paranoid brain might) would just be stupid. but whether he meant to think of you or not, everything was putting him on edge by association, and he was itching to see you happy and healthy and still his. 

by the time fox deciphered that the newest date-night romantic comedy at the local movie theater was having midnight showings, and the ticket booth operator was a twenty-five year old involuntary celebate who was admitting loving couples into the place and watching them make out right in front of his jealous eyes, the case was a one-and-done. scully didn’t buy that the employee was telekinetically causing the boyfriends to kill, but the kid got shot in a police chase, so fox was left to his conclusions and she to hers. and he couldn’t drag her ass out of town fast enough. fox was two hours early to the airport. he bounced his leg on the entire flight home, and scully barely got a “see you tomorrow” out by the time he hailed a cab and ordered the driver to his address. 

his gut was twisting itself in knots, hoping you’d be home. you practically lived with him by how much time you spent at his apartment; the truth was that he was away so often, and you just couldn’t sleep unless you could curl up in his bed, with his pillows and blankets and wearing his clothes, and let everything that belonged to him comfort you until you got the man back himself. he knew you’d be there- it was nearly one in the morning. but still, after all this time staring at dead girls and thinking about how in love they were with the trusted boys who slit their throats, he just wanted to collect you into his arms and keep you there. 

you were wide awake because you knew he was on his way. you stayed up all night watching all the classic movies he had on tape, glancing at the clock, trying to stop obsessing over the unlikely crash of his plane. you were standing in his little kitchen, watching the tea kettle boil and listening to the fuzzy transatlantic accents yapping a room away, when the front door of the apartment swung open. 

you didn’t even have time to leave the kitchen. fox threw his bags down like a child and scurried to you, engulfing you in his arms; he drew your body snugly into his and buried his face in your shoulder. he was squeezing the air from your lungs, but you didn’t mind. you combed your fingers through his moussed-up hair, breaking up the curated clumps and reminding it of how it naturally fell against his head. he smelled just as he did when he left, like his ralph lauren polo green- minty and smoky, and so much himself. his soft leather jacket hung onto the smell of his taxi, but you ignored the staleness and inhaled the good stuff. 

“i missed you so much,” fox sighed. the man showered you with kisses all over your neck and jaw, traveling up the valleys of your cheeks to make sure he got your eyes and nose and forehead, too. you squirmed playfully and swatted at his hands, but he only smiled and fought you off.

“jeez, it’s like you thought i died or something!” you giggled. 

fox’s eyes flashed with something that looked like momentary worry, and then it was gone- replaced with a warmth you’d missed more than you realized the past few days. his arms were around you again, this time much gentler, and he asked, “you feel safe with me, don’t you?”

“what? fox, why would you even ask that? of course i do,”

“you know i’d never hurt you,”

“baby, you’re the only person in the world i feel safe with.” you promised, petting the back of his head softly, smoothing the hair down his neck. with both hands, you lifted his face from your shoulder and brought his face close, so you could look right into his ruminative eyes. the man smiled as your thumbs caressed the stubble growing in on his cheeks, those rounded teeth poking out beneath his top lip the way you adored. your chest fluttered, and you couldn’t help but return the gesture. 

“are you okay, baby?” you asked, knocking your forehead against his playfully. 

the man dipped his neck low and pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth. somehow it felt more intimate than if he’d truly kissed you; like by being an inch off base, he was saying more than the real thing could. he always did things like that, such small gestures that would go unnoticed if he was any other guy and you were any other girl, but every move fox made was conscious. each one was a choice that meant something. kissing you in such a way wasn’t a mistake, it was purposeful- he was proving his allegiance, ruling your mouth was more sacred and deserved to be earned. he was poetic in that respect, you knew it, and it made every hair on your body stand up. maybe that’s why you shifted your position and locked him in a normal kiss- a forceful one, at that. to remind him that you were nothing sacred, just someone who desperately loved him. 

you’d missed the way his lips molded to yours, the familiar chapped patches that came from his nervous biting, the way his scruff scratched your chin. you even missed the feeling of his breath as it blew out of his nose and across your face, warm and frequent, because he always seemed to breathe faster when you got close, like a teenage boy. you kissed him hard, letting your hands fall down his chest and press against his abdomen, remembering the sculpted curves of his stomach beneath his t-shirt. fox’s lips curled upwards as you touched him, and in those few moments of your neediness, he was sure you meant what you said before- that you truly did feel safe with him. 

when he pulled away, he brought the pad of his thumb to your plump bottom lip, holding you by the chin. “i’ve been going crazy without you, you know.”

“so have-” you began, but were cut off by the sudden screeching of the forgotten kettle behind you. both fox and yourself jumped, and you rushed to twist the knob on the stove, shutting the thing up in frustration. “sorry.”

“it’s okay,” the agent chuckled.

“you want some?” 

“only if you bring it over to the couch for me,” fox said, batting his eyelashes jokingly. 

“what am i, your mother?” you countered.

fox rolled his eyes and pressed another kiss to your lips, rebutting, “no, but you do love me, don’t you?”

“oh, shut up. go unpack.”

you listened to his footsteps as he went to retrieve his bags and haul them to his bedroom. smiling to yourself, you waited to hear him open the door and laugh. every time he came home, you left his bed an unruly mess and accumulated as many water cups on his nightstand as possible, and he had a love-hate relationship with it (mostly love, because he adored the idea of you living in his space.) a full-bodied sound came from the other side of the apartment, a hearty one, and a voice called, “impressive collection you’ve got in here!”

with two steeping cups of oolong you walked slowly back to fox’s living room, where his copy of vertigo had rewinded to the start. you settled into the couch, putting your feet up on the coffee table and watching jimmy stewart dangle from a drainpipe as you awaited your boyfriend’s return. it always took him a little while to unpack because it was more like repacking- he would swap out all his worn clothes with new ones and throw everything in the hamper, and he had to take out all his necessities only to keep them somewhere easy for him to grab come the next time work sends him away. you were used to waiting for him, but how he acted tonight was making you impatient. 

when fox was finally done and changed into a clean shirt and pajama pants, he headed towards the hallway to come and sit with you. but he paused when he came to the corner, making his steps quiet, so he could take a look at you undisturbed. you were slouched on his old, rickety couch, in clothes all belonging to him; a pair of old gray sweatpants that hugged your thighs, given they were a bit bigger than his skinny ones, his old oxford long sleeve that has a hole in the neck, and a frumpy blue grandpa-style cardigan he hasn’t worn in years. your hair was tucked away in an unraveling braid, with little locks fanning like leaves across the apples of your cheeks. your chipped nails cradled the mug in your palms, and the colors from the box television danced in the reflection of your chunky tortoiseshell glasses. he imagined you sitting like this while he was off on a case, at home in his home, watching his movies and wondering about him like he did of you late at night. you were so pretty and so important that he felt the love buzzing in his fingertips and toes.

the man came around the corner and sat down cautiously on the couch so as not to spill your tea. your face softened at his arrival, and you leaned forward to place your cup down and clamber back to him, throwing your arms around his neck. fox hoisted you onto his lap despite your objections, and he hugged you tighter. he just didn’t feel like letting you go tonight, it seemed. 

“did you eat?” you asked, looking down into those puppy eyes that gazed up. 

“a little while ago.”

“how long was a little while ago?”

“...ten o'clock this morning?” fox grinned sheepishly.

“fox! aren’t you starving? let me go heat something up, i got chinese last night-”

“shh, no, not yet,” he grabbed your hips as you tried to get off of him, “don’t go anywhere yet. sit for a minute.”

“but-”

“no buts. just sit with me a little longer and then i promise i’ll eat, okay?”

you sighed, only half-aggravated, and nodded softly. “alright, fine.”

you rested your head in the crook of his neck, your shoulder pressed to his; he twisted you a bit so you had a chance to look at the tv and sit on him at the same time. fox’s fingers traced mindless shapes against the fabric of his sweatpants on your knee, finally at ease. you stole a glance at him from the side and admired the way even his harshest features seemed to curve softly; his square jaw melted into his neck, his aquiline nose a pretty protrusion alongside his lashes that curled wildly. you always thought his face was the most deserving of marble preservation, far more than those ancient guys. 

“you're missing the movie,” he flushed. 

“i already watched it tonight.” 

the man nuzzled your forehead like a puppy, feeling his stomach flip as your palm rested flat against his chest. you snuggled right up to him and let out a heavy breath you didn’t know you were holding. the two of you sat quietly for a while, taking turns watching each other and remembering what it felt like to be close, and you were half-asleep in the comfort of his arms when his stomach growled and woke you up.

“i’m gonna go make you something,” you chuckled.

“awh, come on, you were just about to sleep!” he whined.

“fox, i want you to eat. once you have a little something then i’ll climb right back on you, promise,” you teased, pushing up off the couch.

“whatever,” he groaned, but there was a toothy smile behind the complaint, so you took it well. 

fox watched as you sauntered off to the kitchen, and he called after you, “hey, wait,”

“what?”

the man hopped off the couch and scrambled to the doorway, where you were only feet from the refrigerator. he stooped down and planted a smooch to your forehead, muttering an, “i love you.”

“just can’t leave my side now, hm?” you nudged fox’s nose with your own and gave him a look so fond it nearly melted him into a puddle on the kitchen tile. “i love you more. now beat it, spooky.”

“hey!”

“shush. go sit down and i’ll make it up to you later.”

‘you’re bossy,” fox crossed his arms, leaning against the wood molding and watching you move towards the fridge.

“well, if you’re not gonna leave, then at least get a pan for me to heat this rice up in, would you?” you ordered, shaking the day-old fried rice container in his face.

“anything for you, darling.”

being without each other could feel impossible at times. no matter how he tried, no set routine could recreate the feeling of falling asleep beside you; nor could any amount of his laundry could conjure fox himself to send you off to work with a kiss every morning. his work made it easy to miss him. but moments like this, where he watched you make him a late-night snack that he would share with you, were the moments that made all the waiting worth it. and the moments that will come after, too- the couch that was waiting for you both to come back to, where you’d fall asleep with your face against his neck, and where he’d fall asleep watching you breathe. nobody knew that absence makes the heart grow fonder more intimately than you two did. but even with that in mind, neither of you cared about that right now. 

he was simply thankful to be with you, the one he called home; thankful that he didn’t have to be without you for a second longer, and so were you.

#spooky mulder #x files #fox mulder #fox mulder x you #fox mulder x reader #fox mulder fluff #fox mulder x reader fluff #domestic fluff #domestic fox mulder #soft fox mulder #x files fanfic #Spotify

[deathsbestgirl]

okay @calimanc i think i can finally do this!!

first, i tend to think of their relationships in phases. like:

season one: building trust and bonding. they genuinely like each other but it's a process! it takes time to create that bond & partnership. they really create such a good foundation naturally. they don't force it.

seasons two & three: BEST FRIENDS. they trust each other, they love each other, they rely on each other. their roles are set, their bond just gets stronger. season two really sets the tone for true friendship & personal value, not just work.

seasons four & five: it's a Struggle. their relationship is shifting but they're not there yet. it makes things hard but their partnership & friendship are solid. that is not the issue. (although, bad blood is also peak best friends)

season six: tension. surrounding their feelings, trust and getting their shit together lol (genuinely the season of them figuring it out)

season seven forward: THEY ARE IN LOVE. they are all in. s7 they're putting s6 lessons into practice, their communication is improving. s8&9 are hell for them but their love is never the question. coming back to each other is also a process (season seven is them putting the lessons into practice)

iwtb: married. everything is good & terrible. they are haunted, always haunted.

revival: coming back to each other, learning they can be together again despite everything. they never let go and they never will.

i think there's been a lot written about their characters and journeys, at least somewhat related to this. i think i'm recalling some of @randomfoggytiger meta posts about their different struggles, characters, trauma, etc. (the ones i think about a lot: scully teaches mulder to hug, milagro, how the ghosts stole christmas, mulder + s5, mulder / scully family in depths, mulder / scully typing, mulder / scully fight flight freeze — highly recommend, i think foggy puts a lot of things into words that are behind my reasoning)

in the beginning, mulder believes scully is sent as a spy. he's kind but he needles her about aliens, her thesis, her science and she gives back as good as she gets. but scully is so genuine and earnest. she cares about the truth and victims and justice. i've always thought she was excited to work in the field and specifically with mulder. whatever she thought of his spooky moniker, she also knew he was a brilliant man & a good agent. she was prepared to learn from him, regardless of what their cases would be. i don't think she believed all the rumors, i think she's intimately familiar with the rumor mill. and scully always had more of an open mind than anyone gives her credit for.

SO she spends the pilot trying to solve their case and get as much information out of him as possible, she wants him to trust her and she's trying to show him that he can. scully's got him chasing after her on their second? day on the case. she shows him real vulnerability, and imo, a tendency to believe despite her skepticism. and that's when he starts to give her a real chance. mulder's smile when she runs into his arms says sooooo much. AND THEN!!! he is vulnerable with her. he tells her about samantha & it's all he cares about. and she takes him at his word.

to me, this is something that sets the tone for most of their relationship. scully follows him because of his passion and belief, because she believed him when he said the truth was out there. she accepted that work was what mattered most to him and despite her crush, she chose to stay and follow him. she makes that decision over & over again. even when he makes her crazy, even when he gets himself into insane situations. and season one is all about building their trust, radicalizing scully. already before the end of season one, they trust only each other. mulder may show that trust slowly, taking bigger chances with her as time goes on. sharing the personal, letting her know about his informants, introducing her to his friends & eventually deep throat...he listens to her advice, her skepticism, her science and he genuinely appreciates it even if it frustrates him a lot. like when he thanks her in e.b.e., he's frustrated but it's real. he was listening. he recognizes her value to the x files and himself by season two. that conversation in sleepless about 'oh yeah, it's great. i don't know how i put up with you for so long' and 'i learned that from you' and 'i still have my work, and i still have you. and i still have myself.' and this is the "safe" territory for them. they know how to work together and they understand what that means. or they think they do, until scully is abducted and the stakes are raised. (kae wrote about mulder recognizing love in loss once. that's always really stuck with me.) mulder's guilt complex runs high. it's a huge part of his reaction in never again, scully's "my life" and 'we're not even going in circles, just an endless line' and "not everything is about you" is piercing in a very specific way to him. in that moment at the end, they choose silence and it persists for a long time. as does the way they talk around their feelings, their relationship. and mulder specifically is very avoidant. he makes several comments throughout their partnership about her leaving, not wanting to ruin her record or hold her back. and it's just so crazy, because scully eventually tells him that she holds him back, he doesn't need her. scully wants to be needed, and mulder wants her to stay but he 'doesn't want to see her hurt.'

the whole point is they put the work first, their partnership. it was a conscious choice. eventually we learn they both had relationships with people they worked with. i really do think it would make both of them hesitate to get involved with a work partner. generally speaking, scully is a "rule follower" but she doesn't have a problem breaking rules when she thinks it's justified, when she believes it's the right thing to do. no matter who's instincts she's listening to. that's a pattern we see very early on.

THEN they get so comfortable in their roles, believer mulder & skeptic scully, that later on as those things start to shift, they're afraid to change. mulder tells scully her science saved him over & over and in season six she clings to that (completely misunderstanding what he ~really meant, like kae talked about). season six is all about them figuring out what a relationship between them would mean.

but by that point, they had started to figure out some of their own issues. like in never again, scully is struggling with her patterns. so she does something she doesn't do often (i don't think one night stands are ooc, but they're not necessarily her norm. it seems like a periodic thing she may do when she gets That feeling.) scully needs to know she matters, she needs to see her impact. in never again, after paper hearts & el mundo gira, i think she's really hurting in that respect. she doesn't see at this point the impact she's had on mulder or as an agent. you can't tell she works in that office -- no desk, no nameplate, barely any personal items. just some books. initially, they're having two conversations and only partially aware of it. at the end, mulder doesn't seem to understand the issue, but at the end of leonard betts, mulder validates scully. verbally!! directly to her!! he starts to get it. they're not very good at talking directly, that's why never again and the cancer arc, and after, are so difficult. they talk about everything with metaphors, or they're okay sharing little pieces of them. their trauma & pain when forced to.

and season five is ... fraught. as so many other times, but scully nearly died and mulder feels guilty. randomfoggytiger talks about mulder in season 5 here. and the thing about these two, they're traumatized over & over again and they just keep going. but they are deeply affected. i've talked about how not okay scully is, and it takes her so much time to freely lean on mulder. she relies on him & their work, but she doesn't necessarily let him in too far. she holds people at a distance, she's so aware of loss & death and the effects of it, like she talks about in emily. and it isn't really that they need to work through their trauma. it's so much more about letting someone help shoulder the burdens, see them vulnerable. they do that and they do it for each other freely & often. but...for scully, she's always the strong one. she isn't really, but she thinks she has to be. she doesn't want to be another crusade for mulder, someone else he needs to protect. but at the same time, that's what partners do. she takes that "job" very seriously and so does mulder. (but so early on, it isn't because it's part of their job. i think that's extremely clear with scully in tooms & e.b.e., mulder's reaction in lazarus, to her abduction. you can see the progression so clearly.) but they can't protect each other from everything. mulder couldn't save her from being abducted, getting cancer, emily, or being burned alive...scully can't protect him from what happened to samantha. and that's a hard truth. it's something they accept for themselves as fbi agents, but is nearly impossible for them to accept for their partner. it's why scully threatens boggs, why mulder wants revenge on the men responsible for her abduction, why they go as far as they do for each other. they are relentless. (for mulder, he's always blaming himself. often, he wants to protect scully from himself even though he isn't the danger. he isn't the one harming her and he knows how far scully would go. like in endgame 'why didn't you tell me?' 'because i knew you wouldn't let me go through with it' and he runs off on his own because he doesn't want her to risk her life for his crusade, for the answer he needs & seeks.)

and season six!! it's so special because scully knows she's important, he gave her a whole speech about it. they nearly kissed. but they don't talk about it, the silence is maintained in favor of their partnership. and season six is a special brand of putting them in situations. at certain points, their partnership & trust are tested and leading up to those points, they tend to show how solid they really are. like in drive, when their communication is cut off but scully can understand that mulder is avoiding the police traps for a reason and he knows she'll catch onto the clues he manages to drop & that she's working hard to figure out the science/medicine, that she's doing the legwork on their cases that she always does. scully's asking him to get out of the car, but not to abandon it and they spend most of the season slowly putting together a blueprint for a relationship between them. knowing there are feelings between them, on both sides, completely reciprocated but it's a struggle. they learn something, and it's erased. or like the lesson in the unnatural, it takes a while for them to really get it. to put it into practice more consistently. there's a new freedom after one son too, with most of the syndicate killed at the hands of their own stupidity. and literally, neither of them can actually let go because the x files is both of their lives, they both have a very significant stake in the work and that will always connect them. (no matter how they're forced away from it at different points, no matter how they hesitate sometimes.) but it's also always deeper than that. because "you made me a whole person" wasn't just true of mulder. scully is never more herself than she is with mulder. i've said it a few times, but the x files was scully's dream job lol not only does she get to use everything in her arsenal, but she cares & she can be weird & a little mean. mulder gave her a very special kind of safety. scully loved teasing him for his beliefs, she always found it endearing and i just. think that's for a reason. he believes what she can't, and she believes what he can't. (you know, my usual)

i just think about the difference between all souls & all things. mulder is terrified of scully's believe in all souls, but in all souls, he interprets her words through her faith. he wasn't afraid. it was from a distance in all things, but she's also talking about a man she considered the love her life & might have married. but scully's sitting on his couch telling him all about it.

in the revival, scully comes back to the x files for mulder. but she's the one loving the case in mulder & scully meet the weremonster. and where mulder's disbelief & cynicism in the patient x/the red and the black scare her, she's not afraid of it weremonster. she kindly tries to guide him back to it, or rather, gives him the opportunity to find it himself. like he helps her light the candles & talks to god through her in nothing lasts forever. they're not really together but they're always together. it's always about working through something, understanding themselves & each other, and accepting/embracing some truth. like in all things, "what if there was only one choice?" in a way, there is only one choice. the one they made over & over. scully in squeeze & tooms & little green men, mulder in one breath & redux & requiem. all their choices lead to the other, and they almost mourn other choices. but scully would do it all again, she wouldn't change a thing. mulder can't do it alone and there's hope. the truth they both know. the only one they know.

#okay i don't think i did this right #but GENUINELY #read randomfoggytiger & carefulfears #calimanc #mulder and scully #mine #the x files