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gaybananabread · 2 months ago

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For day 10, spidering, with Hazbin Hotel!! Doesn’t matter what characters, one of them Angel Dust though please, and no Valentino or Vox. Thank you so much have a great day :D

TickleTober Day 10 - Spidering

~YESSS AN ANGEL REQUEST! I almost never get anything HH; I’ve been waiting for an excuse to write for him! Y’all know me; I had to pair him with Husk for this. Lots of silly fluff lies ahead. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy! Happy spooky month!~

Lee: Husker

Ler: Angel Dust

Summary: Angel begs Husk to let him pet his soft fur, actually getting a yes out of the grump. Soft cuddles quickly turn playful as Angel makes an adorable discovery.

Warnings: canon-typical language and behaviors! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

“Aww, c’mon, whiskers! Just once?”

Angel’s pleading tone filled Husk’s ears, making him huff and roll his eyes. Of course the spider demon would ask that…

“Fuckin’- seriously, Angel? Why d’you wanna do that? It’s…it’s stupid as hell,” he grumbled, taking a swig of whiskey from the bar. Thank’s to Alastor’s freaky voodoo bullshit, the bar was never unstocked, meaning he could drink the good stuff as he pleased.

“It ain’t stupid! It’s fun! Please? Pretty please?” Angel begged, putting on his best puppy-dog pout. “Pretty please with a big, glistening, juicy-ass cherry on top?”

“Ugh- fine! Just quit fuckin’ talkin’ about cherries like that!” Husk slammed the bottle down, dramatically folding his ears against the top of his head. He wan’t really pissed off; he just couldn’t believe Angel wanted to do something so ridiculous.

“Yes! I promise, kitten–”

“Don’t call me that!”

“–you won’t regret this!”

“I already do…” The grumpy bar cat sighed before flopping down on one of the lobby’s couches, leaving his back exposed for Angel. Damn spider and his stupid adorable pout…

“Oh, hush. Don’t worry, I’ll make ya feel good~” Angel straddled Husk carefully, straddling his thighs as he admired the furry back in front of him. Husk’s fur really did look soft…

Hell, what was he fantasizing for? He finally had consent!

Angel gently ran one hand down the grumpy man’s back, just barely scratching the furry skin. It was so fucking soft! Husk obviously took good care of his fur.

Not sensing any discomfort, Angel took things a step further. He gently placed his other three hands on Husk: one on his head, the other two on his sides. The fourth stayed on his spine, scratching a soft path up and down the area.

While he still wanted to be an obstinate shithead, he couldn't deny that the pampering felt nice. Sure, the occasional brush on his sides made him squirm, but he kept his reactions under control. Before he knew it, he was close to falling asleep.

Angel could feel the man relaxing under him, smiling smugly. He’d never asked a better question in all his life. Sure, begging to pet Husk was usually a death sentence, but he’d played his cards just right that day.

Right as Angel was about to tease the grumpy man for acting like a kitten, he heard a low sound from beneath him. It almost sounded like…

“No fuckin’ way…”

Surely enough, Husk was purring; the deep, base-sounding rumbles melted Angel’s heart to a sticky pile of goo. One of his hands left the cat man’s sides to cover his mouth. There were practically hearts in his eyes.

“Mmph… Would you quit starin’ at me?” Husk mumbled the words, barely able to sound mad from all the loving affection. He was on cloud nine, though still coherent enough to be a grump.

“Sorry boo, but…wow, that’s cute. Like, kitten-on-Christmas-mornin’-with-a bow-on-level cute.”

Husk growled at that, expertly using his tail to swat Angel’s head. The spider demon just laughed, going back to petting his grumpy companion.

Now, while they weren’t a problem earlier, the side scratches caught Husk off guard; he was too sleepy to keep up appearances. A few gruff little giggles slipped out, his wings flapping once in protest.

“What the…Husk, are you-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Husks deep growl would've scared any sane demon away, but Angel was already hooked on that little giggle. Funny how a sound could be more addictive than any drug he'd ever put in himself.

“Sorry, Husky; not my specialty~”

Two gloved hands pinned Husk’s wrists above his head before he could fight back, the other two starting to gently scribble up and down his sides. Angel was surprisingly strong for such a skinny guy; combined with the position, Husk was trapped.

“A-Angel, I swehear to fuck, g-get off- mmph!” Husk was putting his all into holding back his reactions, refusing to just freely giggle like some kid. Unfortunately for him, Angel seemed to have found the special little spot just above his hips that made him lose his mind.

“Y-YouhuHUHU BAHASTAHARD! FUHUCK!”

Angel chuckled at the sight, though it didn’t come without a cost; Husk’s thrashing tail whacked him in the back of the head, occasionally whipping against his back as well. It didn’t hurt at all, but getting hit with tail feathers wasn’t exactly a desired experience. At least, not in that scenario.

“Aww, what's wrong, Husky? Does it tickle, hmm?” Angel cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice, doing his best to fluster the fur off Husker.

“SHUHUT THE FAHAHACK UHUHUP!” As his thrashing increased, his wings began to flap and smack against Angel. The spider brought out his third set of arms, carefully pinning the plumes down.

As fun as the loud-ass reactions were, Angel wasn't aiming to kill the grump; he just wanted to loosen him up. It was time to get silly.

“Wanna hear a song, whiskers? I've got some great pipes~” Ignoring the immediate protests, Angel started to sing-song his words. The hands moved up from the sweet spot to Husk's sides, gently spidering up and down in time with the lyrics.

“The itsy bitsy spider crawled up the water spout~” Angel walked two fingers up one side while the other hand spidered upwards.

“I-Ihihi'm gohonna kihihill you!” Husk thrashed and kicked, feeling his cheeks heat beneath his fur. Damn Angel and his stupid limbs!

“Down came the rain,” Angel sang as he tapped his fingers along Husks spine, “an’ washed the spider out~” One finger swiped at Husks spine, the other hand quickly spidering down his sides.

“Then out came the sun an’ dried up all that rain~” Ten fingers fanned out across Husk's shoulder blades, the small nails on them making his back arch.

“So the itsy bitsy spider...” The spidering little fingers returned, this time teasing the spots above his hips again.

“FUHUHUCK OHOHOFF!”

“Came up the spout again~” Leaving the evil spot, Angel moved both his tickling hands to rub Husk's ears. The man seemed exhausted, and Angel had satisfied his gremlin tendencies.

“F-fuhuhuckin’ ahasshole…” Husk huffed and grumbled, begrudgingly relaxing beneath Angel’s now-soothing touch. If his ears weren’t so sensitive, he’d be enacting such sweet revenge… That’d just have to happen later.

“C’mon, Husky,” Angel chided, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “ you know you loved that~”

That got him another tail-whack in the head, though Husk didn’t deny it. Angel took that as a sign to quiet down, and for once, he actually listened. Husker soon drifted back off, unable to keep his eyes open.

Angel just sat there, gently rubbing and scratching behind Husk’s fuzzy ears. Once he was absolutely positive that Husk was out, he carefully snapped a picture of the adorable cat demon beneath him.

Hello, new wallpaper…

#hazbin hotel tickle #lee!husk #ler!angel #ticklish!husk #augtickletober2024 #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle #hh tickle #lee!husker #ticklish!husker #ler!angel dust #ler!angeldust #augtickletober #tickletober

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roxannepolice · 5 months ago

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Nine's leather jacket Ten is a lost little kitten that adores you because you brought him home and gave a bowl of cream.

S2-4 Ten is a permanently high on catnip mouser, constantly chases illusory mice, needs enrichment toys like air and you can't even be mad at him for throwing your inherited porcelain to the ground while chasing a butterfly.

Time Lord Victorious Ten got tangled in Christmas lights, and is now meowing at the top of his voice, running around the house dragging branches of the tree everyehere, bites anyone who tries to help him and probably knocked over the urn with your mother's ashes.

Fourteen is the beloved old housecat that's part of the family, sleeps in your bed and knows you so well he can tell exactly when you need a warm purring ball in your lap

#of course i needed to make a ten/fourteen companion post #the doctor #tenth doctor #fourteenth doctor

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suraemoon · 1 year ago

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Get Ready With Me

- Elvis x Reader -

Summary: It's the 1960s and Mr. and Mrs. Elvis Presley are getting ready for yet another Hollywood party.

Warnings: a paragraph talking about a girl's measurements and a scene getting into a tight dress, skin getting caught in a zipper (not graphically described), sexual innuendos and metaphors that you might blink and miss including a subtle implication that he wants to suck her tits, a sentence talking about “breaking” a woman in, and implying that she might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer. also some references to Christianity.

WC: a cute little 4.5k

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For someone like your husband, Elvis Presley, possessive and protective in every way of what was his, he did not mind showing his wife off. He loved it. A beautiful woman is a man’s best accessory, right?

Sunset Boulevard parties where businessmen of all the major Hollywood studios would parade around a gleeful smile. Wives were dressed to the nines in expensive getups and accessorized their jewels with apparent frowns.

Diamonds were a girl's best friend. Diamonds were a girl’s pacifier to soothe from the all too quick world around her, a world not made for her or her satisfaction. A man with an arm around her cinched waist, who really could not give a damn that an hour ago she asked when they were leaving, only to be met with a shrug by the man meant to care for her needs the most. Get her a diamond to hold onto for security just in case things go south.

Elvis was different from these men in more ways than one. When the back of your kitten heels lifted slightly from the ground to reach up to your husband’s ear and ask in a hushed whisper when you were to leave and go back home, your husband made it his plan to leave as soon as you two could.

The truth is he did not want to be at those parties either but being ousted in the business meant he had to get his footing and swim along with the school of fish. Any wrong move and you are left behind, forgotten. For as much as he desired to swim the opposite way, he had too much to lose; too much and too many depending on him.

The dim lights above the hotel’s small, tiled bathroom provided a yellowish, comforting tint over the room as if a grandmother had not yet gotten the memo of the newest trend. Those bright, enhancing Hollywood-worthy style mirrors, similar in all ways to the vanity that Elvis bought you last Christmas, were in. As you were a couple who both came from humble beginnings and cracked mirrors neither you nor Elvis complained––at least you aren't in the dark. Checking how your makeup looked under the sun’s natural light cascading through the window helped ensure that your face wouldn’t parallel one of the clowns that walk the boardwalk of Coney Island the moment you step out of this personal Garden of Eden.

After being unveiled with much anticipation from the ribbon-tied gift box on the counter, the candy apple red satin dress slipped easily over your figure, ending a few inches above your knees in length. It was like a glove, except for the fact that it was loose and not yet zippered; the true fit and form waiting patiently to be physically revealed to its wearer. This layer of mystery stayed sitting and waiting.

Elvis picked out this dress for you at a local Los Angeles boutique just last week; this along with many other garments, ranging from a knit sweater for winter and an array of panties for the bedroom. All these he surprised you within gift-wrapped boxes, the box with today’s dress in it taken away before you can get your hands on it. He had to keep at least *something* exciting for today, at least one thing to look forward to, no matter how small.

Elvis Presley bought most of his wife’s clothing and took pride in knowing all of her measurements by heart. He was sure he could rattle them off on the spot like an accomplished kid at a school spelling bee. This he wouldn’t dare do though. It was a quiet contract of trust not needing to be formally established, one of manners that his mama was sure to have raised him with and should just come with the subconscious of being a human anyway.

He found that some men were a little too eager to talk about the personal details and inner workings of their relationships. A competition of who’s got the best broad and on some days who's got the worst nag. The one with the smallest waist. The one with the smallest brain. The one who can’t get slick or the one who’s too damn clingy she won’t get off you.

Anyone who has the chance to get to know Mrs. Presley knows that she is a keeper. Any eye who glances at her knows she is gorgeous. Any quiet spectator who notices her behavior and body language around Mr. Presley knows that she is a very satisfied woman, and no words are needed, that’s enough.

You had no doubt in your mind, under that well-hair-sprayed do of yours, that this dress would resemble all of the other pieces that Elvis had bought many times before and fit both your figure and the latest trends seamlessly. He really was a stylist if you think about it.

You hum a melody as your hands go to zipper your dress, only to find that the zipper is both too small to get a proper grip on and stuck on its track.

“Elvis?” You call out your voice’s first word in a while.

When hearing his name called, your eager-to-please husband quickly makes his way to the door of the bathroom. He moves suave and smooth as ever with his hands in his pockets before stopping and leaning his forearm on the doorframe taking the rectangle up, admiring the beauty you radiate reflecting to him in the mirror. What’s better than one of you? Two of you. A view from the back and the front simultaneously. He’s got a good one. He’s got the best one. The cream of the crop.

“...Elvis?” You repeat unsure if you should just get on with what you need or if he was even paying attention.

He licks his lips as his eyes go to admire your backside in front of him. “Hm? What is it, honey?”

Your left arm goes behind you, hand gently motioning to the undone zipper of your dress. Elvis hums, a breath of amusement escaping his mouth. The dress didn’t come with your pretty back on display like that? What a damn shame. “I gotcha, honey. Was just a little distracted there is all.”

“Mhm. I could tell you were distracted. Liking what you picked out?” You decide to perform a little shimmy, lips pouting in a playful, seductive manner. As you moved, your cleavage moved side to side with you, the cups of your dress not yet close enough to your body to keep them modestly contained.

He bends to kiss your soft temple. His breath and velvet-covered voice caused the words leaving his mouth to vibrate against your skin in a seductive whisper.

“Like is an understatement, doll. It's hard to stay focused when ya got such good candy in front of ya.”

He turns his head back forward and those sky-blue eyes of his that you love so dearly are fully visible to you in the reflection. The diamond on your ring seems to shine brighter when in the presence of his diamond eyes, while they look over you again.

“Candy so sweet you just wanna put your lips all over it….”

His sight rests again on your teasingly half-covered chest,

“...Candy ya just wanna suck.”

A blush, not the artificial pigment you powdered on your face earlier with a brush, but the natural light pink of your skin flushes your face. In that moment, Elvis touches your cheek, moving your head sideways for eye contact, getting a glance at the final product of your makeup while doing so. He feels the warmth spread and grins in satisfaction. The illustrious fantasies infiltrating both your and your husband's brains at that moment weren’t as pure as that pink.

He shakes his head as if being physically pulled out of his daydreams and told to remember the task at hand before fantasies turn into realities (they easily and quickly could in a matter of seconds with the two of you) and the remaining minutes are spent on something else other than getting ready. Elvis’ dress shoes then take a step back and his warm hands go to the small zipper on the back of your dress, right above your ass.

“This is what it must be like to dress one of ‘em Barbie dolls. My perfect lil’ model, looking good in anything put her in. Later we’ll hafta take some more polaroids…some showin’ the dress, some showin’ underneath it too.”

Elvis loved taking intimate photos of you in different outfits: some sheer lingerie, some completely nude, some without you wearing a top, some without bottoms. Mixed and matched photos were kept in a little box tucked in the drawer of his nightstand. He did it any chance he got. Well, any chance he remembered to do so before completely ravishing you because when your husband needs you, he needs you and who cares about the camera in a moment like that?

Your peaceful disposition is suddenly met with a flinch and your bright smile is interrupted by a yelp as halfway up your back the zipper catches on your skin. Elvis immediately flinches as if he had felt your pain and quickly moves to undo the zipper all the way, leaving you back where you started a few seconds ago. The only thing indicating his presence and touch on you was the small mark of red on your back. A flood of apologies immediately leaves his mouth.”O-oh Jesus, baby. I'm so sorry. I'm real sorry. I-I didn’t mean to hurt ya.”

“It's alright, Elvis. Don’t worry, I’m okay.” You reply, quick to comfort him as if he was the one who had gotten hurt.

“It’s not alright. My lil’ baby’s gotta boo-boo now.”

He crouches down and lowers his head to place a gentle kiss on the red mar that made itself home on the small of your back like a stork bite. The unexpectedness and quickness of his action causes a shiver to move like a wave crashing a peaceful coast throughout your body. But instead of a chilly shiver, it's bundled in warmth, like love sent a lightning bolt reminding you of its presence. Not that you would ever let yourself forget.

“I need to be more careful with my little dolly. If God made ya out of porcelain, I would’ve broken ya by now. Ain’t no doubt about that.”

His soft, tender pecks start to move up your back.

Your breath hitches, “Elvis…”

He whispers against your skin softly before continuing to kiss you, “Gotta make it up to hers.”

“Hers forgives him.” You close your eyes in bliss.

Oh, how much both of you wished not to attend this stupid party. Bedsheets that are beautifully tossed and messy instead of perfectly steamed suits and ties. Warm, passionate kisses instead of cold drinks and equally as cold shoulders. The love marks left on your neck from last night, since covered beneath a layer of foundation, regain their tenderness at this moment. Your body reminds you of what it wants more of, what it desires. Little do you know, so does his as the fabric of his slacks starts to get a little tighter around him.

After leaving a trail of kisses from the bottom of your back to between your shoulder blades, Elvis even more carefully than last time, if that was possible, gently brings up the small zipper all the way to the top using all his concentration to focus intently on not nipping you again. Your focus falls back on the mirror, watching as your body and the dress meet and fall in love. Everything that is supposed to hug, hugs. Everything that is supposed to hold, holds. It’s as if it was meant to be.

“There we go. Atta girl.” You’re unsure if he’s praising the zipper on your dress or you. If asked, Elvis would say both.

Then, your husband looks up to see the finished product of his work in the mirror like an artist would admire his masterpiece. His hands don’t stay off you for long as they are placed on your hips moving up and down in a massaging motion before giving your love handles a soft squeeze.

“Thank you for helping me, E.”

“No problem, honey. It’s what I’m sposed to do. Gotta have my girl looking perfect and you look more than it.”

You turn around for the first time since putting on the dress, assuring him at that moment that all that perfection and body he saw in the mirror was indeed real and not just a dream. Both of your hands cup his sculpted face and you give him a soft, tender, and very rewarding kiss. A small lipstick transfer leaves his lips just a tint pinker than they were before, unnoticeable to anyone but you: the person who made that change happen.

The last step of your personal routine awaited you and that was perfume. A bottle of Chanel Number 5 glistened on the counter as if awaiting the moment and you quickly take it into your hands. Your mind has been trained over the years to know the right spots to put perfume. You spray a little on one of the main pressure points, the inside of your wrist. Before the “getting ready” automatic machine in your brain can rub the now dripping solution into your skin, Elvis takes on the responsibility for you. Your husband swiftly takes your palm-up hand into his and rubs the liquid into your wrist in a soft, circular motion with his thumb. This process is then repeated with your right wrist. When finished, Elvis brings one of your wrists up to his nose, your skin brushing the tip, and smells it.

he hums satisfied then picks up the bottle, examining it. “When did you get this perfume, honey? It smells really nice.”

“Elvis…you bought me that perfume.”

“Oh.”

“You’re already so sweet, I thought those rose scents came with ya.” He says with a smirk in an attempt to smoothly cover up his mistake.

“Mhm, I was born with citrus running through my veins.”

“I’d believe it.”

You giggle and while the laugh escapes your lips, your sight falls on the usual next step of your joint getting-ready routine: your husband’s baby blue eyes and what was at this moment not highlighted around them.

“Need help with your lashes?” You ask softly. Neither you nor he needed to ask technically; both of you knew that this came next in the assembly line of tedious little tasks and that he would say yes.

“I was just about to ask ya,” Elvis replies comfortably and not totally in truth. He knows full well that you, his wife with the beneficial trait of getting the two of you properly in line and ready to go when it came to all sorts of schedules and plans, would’ve gotten to it anyway and frankly, he isn’t in any dire rush to leave. Mascara meant one more stride towards abandoning the warm comfort of this little hotel room.

“I gotcha.”

Elvis looks over you one more time before dragging his feet on the tile and leaving the bathroom to go sit, making himself comfortable in the dark grey upholstered lounge chair positioned at an angle in the corner of the room.

You grab the mascara tube out of your old light pink makeup bag sitting on the cold counter, now half empty due to products being placed all over the counter in a messy organization, and quickly go to where Elvis is sitting in all of his man-spreading glory. You stop in your tracks for a second to look over him. Elvis smiled, entertained by the fact that the purple tube of mascara and your cute wide eyes were the antonyms to all of the nasty stuff running through his mind while looking at the woman standing before him in all of her obliviously sexy magnificence.

His being sat down and you standing was the only time where you were taller than him. He looks up at you through those dirty blonde lashes not yet polished, as if you were the holy grail. An angel before him. A picturesque statue needing to be worshipped and he was damn well willing to kneel before you and give you that praise.

Your hesitation was not only due to Elvis’ seductive aura but also apprehension in thinking of a way to get close enough to his face to actually apply the makeup. The bed was a good distance away and continuing to stand wouldn’t be a good angle for application. There were no other chairs around either. Getting on your knees is always a good option, one both of you enjoy in different circumstances; it's just the rug burn would be a pain…

“Sit on me, baby. Don’t act like you’ve never done it before.”

He continues, his tone nonchalant, “My girl might still be a lil’ innocent but the angels didn’t make her clueless, did they?”

You shake your head with an embarrassed blush arising. “No, they didn’t, sir.”

“You know, by breaking ya in, I’ve put those dirty thoughts in ya head too. Just feel like you’re too scared to act on ‘em sometimes. Ain’t nobody here. Spread ya legs and sit on me. I need your services, honey…your makeup ones and all the other ones my girl gives so well.”

You giggle, cheeks never failing to flush at Elvis’ vulgarity. His subtle innuendos that would've gone over your head just a few months ago before he opened your eyes and made you his on your wedding night. You became one in three ways that day: mind, body, and soul.

Trying not to be hurt by the fact that your husband thought you were too embarrassed to sit on him for a few seconds, an unintentional attack on the state of your womanhood, you do just that.

You spread your legs to straddle him, the tight fabric of your dress trying to work against you as harsh friction on the plush of your thighs as you spread them around him. The fabric after having lost the battle, rolls up your thighs scrunched in the defeat, getting hiked up to an improper length as you adjust yourself on Elvis’ lap with a slight roll of your hips.

Both of you notice how his hips twitched, a bit like a spark, as they met yours. Energy already attracted and apparent in behavior, showed itself physically.

Your lined lips meet his for a passionate but quick kiss before pulling away teasingly. “Sorry.” You peck him again, not sorry in the least about it. “I’m getting a lil’ distracted.”

He laughs before stealing another kiss from those oh-so-tempting red lips of yours. He reflects back on grade-school bible study, this is what Adam and Eve must’ve felt when they ate that apple. “I don’t wanna go to this stupid shit.”

He kisses you again gently as if normal habit, “Just wanna stay here with my lil wife.”

You giggle while backing your head away further, knowing that if you keep this kissing up, it will lead to other events and you’ll never make it to this party. Your mind goes back to the memory of last month’s luncheon and how Elvis’ manager was not too pleased that the singer-turned-actor and his wife arrived an hour late to the event with hickeys and flushed cheeks.

“Cmon’ Elvis. You can have me when get back later.”

“Damn right, I will.” He responds matter-of-factly.

You lean forward, both palms pressing next to each other on his chest, and whisper into his cheek before kissing it, “Now sit still, be a good boy, and let me do your eyelashes all pretty.”

He looks at the mascara in your hand before looking back up at your eyes, his mouth slightly parted, “You’re right, lil mama. I got ahead of myself there, didn’t I?”

“You can say that.” You bite your bottom lip as your hands go to untwist the mascara tube, pulling the wand out slowly and wiping the excess product on the side of the entrance before taking it out all the way.

You hold back a giggle as you think of Elvis’ previous words coupled with the opening of this mascara…he really has corrupted your thoughts.

You gently place the tube down, careful not to make a mess and get the product on anything. Then, you adjust your straddle position as you would on the saddle of one of the horses back home to get more comfortable on your husband’s lap, holding the wand in your dominant hand as both of Elvis’ hands go to rest on the round of your ass.

His sky-blue eyes look straight into yours, holding a deliciously intimate and beautifully intense eye contact as you graze the mascara wand on his light brown lashes, careful not to poke his eye like that one mascara incident a few months ago where you were apologizing profusely.

The sweeping of the curved bristles in an up-and-down motion mirrors the gentle rubbing of his hands on your backside; back and forth, back and forth, with the brush being a little faster than the hands. Both have important purposes and both do their jobs flawlessly.

You accompany your light strokes with soothing whispers of praises and admiration, “Such a pretty boy. My handsome man who I love so, so much. Never loved anyone more.” You hear him respond pleasantly in a warm hum.

You point your pointer finger up and your husband immediately looks up at the beige ceiling above to allow you to coat his tinier, bottom lashes as well.

“Good boy.” You whisper concentrated.

When you finish the willingly made slow process of applying the mascara to your model, his eyelashes have grown a little longer in length and their color has changed from a dirty blonde to jet black, matching his hair and the dying process he first did to it all those years ago.

“All done.” You declare quickly like a toddler finished with their meal.

His eyelashes flutter to adjust to the layer of newly coated polish before his sight rests on your face, giving you an opportunity to admire your hard work.

“Thank ya, baby. You’re the best at taking care of me, aren’t ya? Needed a woman’s touch to finish off the look.”

You twist the cap of the mascara back on and toss it onto a nearby dresser before letting yourself fall more into him.

Your voice comes out as almost a whine as your head rests on his shoulder, “Do I gotta get up?”

“You know I’m not gonna make ya, doll. Maybe we should both take off a few layers and then you can come sit on my lap again. We could have a lot of fun like that.”

His hands start roaming under your skirt but cannot go far due to the tightness of the material, another, now physical, barrier keeping desires away from each other.

You begrudgingly shimmy off of him, like you feel a sense of duty to hosts that you’ve never met to make sure Elvis Presley gets to attend their event timely as promised.

Adjusting the hem of your dress back to its proper length as you get up, Elvis follows suit in getting up from the chair and straightening out his shirt. His mascara was the finishing touch to you two’s getting ready process, like cutting a red ribbon at the opening of a new building.

The air turned bittersweet, anticipation and melancholy almost selfish and uncalled for with the fact that you will have many, many more nights like these and you both know that. For you that doesn’t thin the chill of social anxiety that comes with going to events with arguably the most famous, and perhaps the most recognizable, man in the country. You’ve never talked about these restless feelings with him for it comes with the duty you love so much, being his wife.

His hands go to outline your body shape again, taking you in as he has done so many times before. He whispers to you as he has numerous times in the past. It never gets old, a love so evergreen it can never age.

“You look so pretty, mama.”

“And you look so handsome, Elvis.” You whisper back as if in the middle of exchanging beautiful, not-so-hidden secrets.

These sweet nothings between lovers are cut off by lips suddenly catching on to yours. This being the most intimate and passionate kiss so far tonight, one with enough energy and need to change the tide of your minds and blur the lines of plans already set in stone.

Your hands immediately go up to cup his face, the kiss not yet broken for the desire to have each other is too strong to pull it apart, almost like a magnet. A pure magnetism that feels so right.

His hands, touchy and soft, trace the silhouette of your figure from the cups holding your boobs to the satin that stops halfway down your thigh. His right-hand tugs on your dress’s hem once it reaches it, granted it is not too far down to find in a moment of such passion. The left hand slithers its way back up the sea of red to cup and squeeze your breast through the delicate fabric.

He’s moving all these parts simultaneously, both hands and both lips, but the main focus is always on you: the target of his desires, the common denominator to every one of his moves. Meanwhile, you are struggling to keep up with the quickness of this series of events so all of your energy is going toward the, hopefully never-ending, kiss. You moan into it, your need vocal.

Your padded fingers and perfectly manicured nails, not a chip to be seen since you fixed them last night, leave the sides of his pretty face to run through his hair like water would, your heels clicking on the ground as he backs you up. These rhythmic noises of your kitten heels come to a halt when the back of your calf is met with the wood of the bottom of a bedframe behind you.

You lose your balance: thighs, ass, and then eventually whole body meeting the soft sheets of the bed. They are still messy and undone from this morning. As you lay back you quickly glance at the clock sitting high on the wall next to you, seeming to be ticking faster than normal, and then your enlarged pupils go back to your ravager of a husband. His lips have since left your mouth and have moved to your neck, then down to your collarbone.

The clock reads 7:00 pm, the time the two of you had scheduled in your planner to be the last call to get going. The only sound you hear now is your own heavy breath when Elvis’ lips start to suck the sweet spot on the right side of your neck, you whine out any ounce of doubt you may still have possibly had.

7:02 now and Lord forgive the both of you, you aren’t gonna make it.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

A/N: This took me too long to write for what it is. I was sick for a whole week straight and that just threw me off my newly boarded writing train. This idea came from a wip that it is similar to but didn’t quite fit with (they’re sisters, not twins). I hate to be a tease with the ending, it cuts off unsatisfyingly, but your good sis is still a little unsure of her ability to write smut. I’ll get there eventually and we can rejoice when it happens. I'll come back to it. Also just noticed the second pic near the title isn’t the most “x reader” friendly and as a brown girl myself that’s my bad. Everything aside, enjoy some Grace Kelly in Rear Window.

#elvis #elvis presley #not beta read #so enjoy my madness #that there is no method to #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfic #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x y/n #60s elvis #elvis fans

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hockey-and-timbits · 1 year ago

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—Zachary Stone, The Nine Kittens of Christmas

#The Nine Kittens of Christmas #Brandon Routh #Kitten #Cat #Christmas #Zachary Stone #Ambrose

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kickthecan-revolution · 6 days ago

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I’ve had a beautiful day today, I saw this massive olive tree on my walk that canopied the air, it’s so beautiful. Even with pausing for a minute or so before each big hill, I shaved about two minutes off my overall walk time to radiation. Today’s appointment was a breeze, I was in and out within 15m - nine more to go.

I decided to walk hills in my way home to reduce the cost of the Uber ride back and ended up at the Fairmont Hotel at the very top of San Francisco. I haven’t been inside of it, ever I think? If so I can’t remember. It’s old and ornate, they are decorating for the holidays. It’s beautiful.

I got home and saw this bouquet of flowers had arrived from my friend Kelly in Seattle - it has little bananas in it! I think it’s one of the coolest flower deliveries I have ever received in my life, I can even eat part of it!

We ended up FaceTiming and got caught up with each other. She got married a little later in life and her husband is so great – a lot more conservative than probably I’d be comfortable with, and such a kind man at his core. They traveled last year, taking a couple of honeymoon trips they’d postponed because of Covid and spent three weeks in Uganda. They visited a school where Kelly learned that the only protein kids get is one egg a week and a quarter cup of milk a week. When Kelly asked what they could give for Christmas, the Director clapped her hands and said oh if we could get them a second egg that week to celebrate it would be so incredible. Later on that evening, Kelly and her husband were driving back to where they were staying and saw a little boy in the street and short story long they couldn’t get them out of their mind, and went to the school to see if they could sponsor him. It’s a boarding school, the school actually limits class and said they were full, but a Ugandan woman was advocating for him and they ended up calling the owner of the school who happens to be in Chicago right now jetlagged, who said yes to the exception.

I asked her to send me some information. There’s a lot of kids in America right now who need a lot of help. And, one egg a week and an education for 75 bucks a month? That just seems like a no-brainer but you can’t be emotional with these decisions, these kids need you to commit for a decade. So I’m sitting with it. I was initially leery about donating to a Christian school but it really works in this area and I trust Kelly. At minimum, it was such important perspective. One egg a week. Goddamn.

Then I chatted with a work colleague - I’m definitely sensing people at my level not wanting me to come back as a manager. We have….. a lot of managers. Too many, I get it. And I think this is just even more fuel to the motivation to leave next year, don’t go to a party where you aren’t wanted. And I don’t take it personally, or I’ll try not to, I’m kind of glad for it. I’m a great leader and could be even better but being a leader has never been my primary motivator. Creating things, explaining things, solving problems, making things - that’s what I really love.

Last call was with my sister just making plans for my trip there on Saturday where I’ll make some introductions between she and the new tenants.

It’s cloudy and cold, sunny earlier but now it feels like rain. My kittens are snuggled in and so am I. I’m making a little “thank you” video to send on Thanksgiving to those in my life who really helped me, I’m a little nervous that it will be cheesy but being vulnerable is something I’m going to practice more.

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sierracolorstheworldofwords · 12 days ago

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🌟Masterlist🌟

Labyrinth (1986)

The lonely king (Complete):

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

It's only forever (In progress):

One shots (Jareth x reader):

The Garden

The kitten

Early bird

Does Hoggle have b.o?

The witch

Markiplier egos:

Reader who's afraid to love head cannons

yandereplier x insecure/anxious reader

yandereplier x reader: fluff

Dark x Erix Derekson x Reader

Wilford x depressed reader

Dark x haphephobic reader

Dark x panicking reader

Dark x overworked reader

Dark x snail lover reader

Yancy x chubby! self conscious reader

Wilford Warfastache x reader: Christmas!

Dark x reader fluff

Yancy head cannons

Yandere! Wilford Warfstache x chubby reader

EGOTOBER (2019)

Day one: Flowers

Day two: Trap

Day three: Pose

Day four: Jacket

Day five: Umbrella

Day six: Coffee or tea

Day seven: Barrier

Day eight: Sneak (KOTS)

Day Nine: Blue (Googleplier)

Day ten: Phone (Yan x reader)

Day eleven and tweleve: Swap & travel (self insert)

Day thirteen and fourteen: Stripes & car (Wilford x reader)

Day sixteen and seventeen: Wave and bright (Bim Trimmer)

Day fifteen: Metal (Bing)

Day eighteen: Gold (Eric Derekson)

Day nineteen: Music (Priestiplier)

Day twenty: Leaves (Wilford and Yan)

Day twenty one: Sleep (Doc)

Day twenty two: Cauldron (Dark)

Day twenty three: Spooked: (Yan x reader)

Day twenty four:

Day twenty five: Moonlight: Wilford Warfstache x @matronofthevoid

Day twenty six: Purple

Day twenty seven: Fangs, KOTS

Day twenty eight: Candy, Wilford

Day twenty nine: Countiplier (@justwritingscibbles oc) x reader

Day thrity: Shadow, Randall

Day thrity-one: Halloween!

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 11 months ago

Text

Stuck Between a Jock and a Metalhead

Summary: Nancy, on a whim, decides to visit Steve at Scoops Ahoy, which leads to her overhearing confessions from Steve that leads her to think about the decisions she's made. A few days later, she decides to come back. She finds him being hit on by the town freak. What's a girl to do? Oh, get stuck in a freezer with the both of them.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Fourteen - Chapter Fifteen - Chapter Sixteen

@nightmareglitter

Chapter Seventeen

Christmas Time

Nancy hummed happily as she helped decorate Steve’s Christmas tree. More often now, she spent more time in Steve’s apartment with Steve and Eddie than she did in her own home. Although she tried not to think about it, it felt an awful lot like decorating for her own home. It definitely felt like a future worth having. The door to Steve’s apartment burst open, and Dustin came tumbling through.

"I am here to help," Dustin said.

"Good, we have something we want to tell you," Eddie said with a wicked gleam.

"Please, tell him in the normal way," Nancy sighed.

"I don't know what you're afraid of, Nancy dear," Eddie replied.

"What's going on?" Dustin asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Now, I don't want you to get jealous, but we're going to love you all equally," Eddie said and paused. "You're going to be a big brother!"

"Who. . . ," Dustin started. "Who in the. . . WHO THE FUCK GOT MY MOM PREGNANT?!"

"Woah, hey, who said anything about it being Claudia?" Eddie asked.

"You did! Okay, so, Sue, then?" Dustin asked.

"No, not her either," Eddie said.

"Oh my god," Dustin said with wide eyes and turned to Nancy. "You're pregnant."

"What?! No!" Steve exclaimed, and then he turned to Nancy. "No, right?"

"No!" Nancy said immediately. "Eddie, for the love of God, just tell him."

"I could show you," Eddie said and cackled as he left the room.

"If he kidnapped someone else's kid, I'm not going down for this. I'm turning him in," Dustin said.

"Loyalty means nothing, I guess," Eddie sniffed as he carried the small bundle in his arms.

Nancy rolled her eyes at her boyfriend. Dustin clearly didn't see it at first due to Eddie's sleeves being black and the bundle being black as well. Nancy watched as he realized that the pair of yellow eyes belonged to a small black kitten.

"Poor thing, rescued her off the side of the road. Her mom was dead, as well as her siblings," Eddie sniffled.

"We think they might have been hit by a car as they were crossing the road," Steve said as he scratched behind her ears.

"Still haven't decided on a name yet," Eddie said, cooing at her.

"What about Menace? Just like her dad," Dustin grinned, and his eyes lit up. "Ooh. What about Mayhem?"

"Mayhem Munson," Steve grinned.

"Munson?" Eddie asked.

"I do like the alliteration," Nancy said as he pet the kitten.

"Me too," Eddie grinned. "Mayhem, it is. There is mischief in her eyes."

Suddenly, the door opened again and Robin burst through.

"I am here to judge you all as you decorate horribly," Robin said. "What's going on?"

"I'm a big brother," Dustin grinned.

"Oh my God, Nancy, I thought you were the responsible one in this relationship," Robin said.

"I am questioning this sweater suddenly," Nancy said to Steve.

"She is, and hey, responsible people can still get pregnant," Eddie said. "I mean, she's not though."

"Ooh, is it Claudia? I thought that was her flirting with your uncle in the grocery store the other day," Robin said. "Oh, are you and El going to be able to handle not being the baby Munson anymore?"

"What?! No! It's not Claudia!" Eddie exclaimed. "No one's pregnant!"

"In the entire world, there's no one pregnant?" Robin asked and scoffed in disbelief.

"There's no one that we know who's pregnant," Eddie said with a frustrated sigh.

"Well, that's not true. We all met Tina's older sister at Erica's party. She's pregnant," Steve said.

"No way, who's the father?" Eddie gasped.

"Tommy Hayes," Steve replied.

"Eww, gross. Lindsay can do so much better than that asshole," Eddie said.

"Well, try telling her that, but she's very proud to be having his baby. She's telling everyone," Steve said.

"Oh my God. . . No! Gossip time later, Stevie. We have a special time set aside for that. Anyway, Buckley, if you just look at my arms, you'll see what I'm holding," Eddie said.

"I see a yellow pair of googly eyes on your shirt," Robin said. "And they just blinked at me."

"You have to stop wearing all black when you hold her," Steve said dryly.

"Where's the fun in that?" Eddie asked.

"Her name is Mayhem. She's our kitten," Nancy said.

"You realize you're tied to them forever now. . .as parents," Robin said. "Are you sure these are the ones?"

"Hmm, reconsidering it," Nancy said teasingly. "Maybe we should run away together instead."

"And take everything they own with us, leaving them penniless," Robin said.

"We could become like Bonnie and Clyde and rob banks," Nancy giggled.

"There's an idea," Robin laughed.

"Oh, hahaha, very funny," Steve said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, relax, it's funny because I would never in a million years do that to you even if we were the last women on the planet. You mean too much me, you and Eddie both, as well as Nancy's friendship," Robin said. "Besides, as gorgeous as Nancy is and she is a lovely specimen, she's not my type."

"Blondes and redheads, right? Particularly of the Muppet variety, right?" Nancy asked, teasingly.

"Oh, you are dead, Wheeler!" Robin exclaimed and tossed a pillow at her. "And Vickie does NOT sound like a muppet."

"I knew it!" Nancy shrieked.

"Okay, fine, I have a crush on Vickie. Shut up about it, will you?" Robin asked.

"Hmm. Never," Nancy grinned.

Robin shrieked and hit her with the pillow again. Nancy laughed and picked up her own weapon to hit Robin with. As they engaged in an all-out war, warning the boys not to get involved, Nancy laughed, enjoying the feeling of having a female best friend her own age again. It's been such a long time since she felt like this. They both collapsed on the ground, and Nancy really started laughing really hard.

"What?" Robin asked.

"I was thinking about Steve’s face when he thought I would actually run away with you," Nancy said. "It was so ridiculous."

"It's preposterous," Robin giggled.

"Well, they don't call it an irrational fear for nothing," Steve muttered, and he cracked a smile.

He plopped on the floor beside her, his facing her upside down.

"You know, I love you, right?" Nancy asked.

"I have no doubts about that, Nancy Wheeler," Steve said. "You know, I love you?"

"Of course," Nancy said.

"And I love you, mommy and you, other daddy," Eddie said in a squeaky voice and placed Mayhem on top of Nancy's chest.

Eddie plopped down underneath Steve’s head.

"I'm sorry, I thought we came here to put up Christmas decorations," Dustin said. "Have we all just decided to take a nap?"

"Shut the curtains and turn off the lights, Henderson," Eddie said. "I've put up the most important decorations."

Dustin closed the curtains and turned off the lights before laying down on the floor with them. Nancy smiled at the ceiling, which was litered in plastic stars. They were glowing.

"Are these even called Christmas decorations?" Robin asked.

"They're all year-round decorations," Eddie said. "So, yeah."

"This is so cool," Dustin said.

Nancy smiled. It was pretty cool. She was definitely going to miss these moments when she went off to college next year. There was still this nervous feeling in her stomach as they all moved forward. Should she even leave the kids behind to go off to college? They never knew if something might happen again, and they definitely didn't know when Eddie's dream might occur. No, the kids would be alright with Steve, Eddie, and Robin. Steve would be here taking cosmetology classes while working at Family Video. Eddie would be working at the music store and Thatcher's tire. . .overachiever. Robin had always wanted to take off for a year so she would still be here. Still, there was this uneasy feeling in her stomach that was telling her not to leave her family. And who would run the group therapy sessions without her? Oh, who was she kidding. Steve and Eddie were more than capable of running it without her. Maybe it wasn't the kids who needed her. Maybe it was Nancy who needed the kids.

"Are you okay?" Robin asked.

"Yeah, just savoring the moment," Nancy said with a sigh.

A couple of weeks later, Nancy found herself at home participating in the Christmas Party that her parents threw. Everyone that could be there was there, including most of the party and their family. She immediately greeted Steve, Eddie, Wayne, and El as soon as they walked through the door. She smiled at El's flowery dress and the pink dragon pin attached to her collar.

"You look pretty, El," Nancy said.

"Thank you, so do you," El said.

"Max didn't want to come?" Nancy asked.

"She is having a dark day," El replied, and Nancy nodded in understanding.

Nancy smiled as El made her way over to Mike. Ever since they both decided to call it quits, their relationship had gotten stronger. Nancy admired how El was figuring out who she was. She honestly thought that El was the strongest person she ever knew.

"Hey, Wayne, thanks for coming," Nancy smiled. "You know, Claudia and Dustin are here."

"She's wearing red," Wayne mumbled.

"What?" Nancy asked.

"It's his favorite color," Eddie said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Put those away, boy, and quit it," Wayne said and moved to greet the Hendersons.

"He's so smitten. It's so cute," Eddie grinned.

"Eddie, what's in your shirt?" Nancy asked.

"It's my heart racing for you," he replied, and Steve scoffed.

"Your heart just meowed," Nancy said.

Suddenly, a head popped out of his black turtle neck sweater.

"Mayhem!" Eddie gasped. "Did you sneak into Daddy's sweater?"

"Eddie, you didn't," she laughed. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Cuddle me to death?" He asked.

"Don't tempt me," Nancy replied, and she watched Eddie walk away before turning to Steve. "Hey, I thought Tommy was going to come."

"Well, he was going to bring Walter, but then Walter got sick, so Tommy's back at school taking care of him," Steve said. "He definitely is going to try and make it for spring break."

"Well, that's sweet he's taking care of his boyfriend," Nancy grinned. "God, do you remember when Eddie was sick?"

"God, how could I forget? He was the biggest baby. I've been slipping vitamins into his food as well as giving him vegetables without him knowing so that won't happen again," Steve said.

"Is that what you've been doing?" Nancy asked.

"What? Did you think I was poisoning our boyfriend?" Steve asked.

"I thought you were fucking with him," Nancy said. "I'll gladly help him from getting sick ever again."

Suddenly, they heard a giggle from behind them, and Holly was diving between their legs, running straight towards Eddie.

"She's going to tell him, isn't she?" Steve asked.

A moment later, Eddie walked over to them with their cat in his arms, and Holly by his side.

"Did I hear from Princess Holly correctly that you've been poisoning me with vegetables, Steve?" Eddie asked. "And that you've enlisted Nancy's help?"

"We just want you to live longer," Nancy said, looking at him with wide eyes.

"How can I be mad at that?" Eddie asked softly and kissed her. "You know, you wait a few weeks, and I'll end up forgetting about this. Then you guys can go back to making me healthy."

Suddenly, Holly jumped up on the couch to press her face against the window.

"It's snowing again! Mommy, can we go see the snow?" Holly asked.

"Put on your coat, gloves, and boots," Karen replied.

"What do you say, Mayhem? Do you want to see the snow?" Eddie asked.

"Meow," Mayhem replied.

"She said yes," Eddie said.

"All I heard was her meow," Steve said.

"You're not listening hard enough, Stevie," Eddie said.

Nancy giggled and followed her arguing boyfriends outside. Eddie set Mayhem into the snow. She touched the snow with her paw, raised it above the ground, and tried to shake the snow off her paw. Mayhem looked up at Eddie and meowed. She looked up at the sky and watched the snow fluttering to the ground. She tracked their movements with her yellow eyes and watched as a single snowflake drifted down upon her nose. Mayhem sneezed so hard that she fell back into the freshly fallen snow.

"She's funny, mommy!" Holly squealed. "I love her."

Mayhem meowed loudly and ran over to Nancy. She held out her arms and let Mayhem jump into them. The young cat gave Eddie a look.

"Yeah, I think she's pissed at you," Steve said.

"I'll be paying for that one later," Eddie muttered.

Nancy smiled and let the cat nuzzle her head against her cheek. She cooed at Mayhem as she held her close. Nancy's gaze wondered over to Steve and Eddie, who were looking at her fondly. They looked so beautiful under the blanket of snow, and for a moment, the snow reminded her of the Upside Down. Suddenly, she imagined darkness surrounding them as well as vines and the flashing of thunder in the background. Eddie was standing there as a vine wrapped around his throat and pinned him to the ground while bats flew down to rip chunks out of him. Suddenly, the image faded away, and Nancy remembered that she was standing in her front yard again.

"You okay, baby?" Eddie asked.

Nancy smiled and stepped in between them.

"Yeah, I just got cold for a second," Nancy said. "I'll tell you about it later."

She felt Eddie and Steve slip an arm around her waist as they moved closer to her. She relaxed into their arms as they enveloped her in between them, and she let out a sigh of contentment as they watched Holly play in the snow. Nancy couldn't push away the feeling that darkness was on the rise. A storm was coming to Hawkins.

Chapter Eighteen

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slpublicity · 4 days ago

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Celebrate BLACK CHRISTMAS & NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET Anniversaries with New Collections from Fright-Rags

Fright-Rags is celebrating Black Christmas' 50th anniversary and A Nightmare on Elm Street's 40th anniversary with new collections dedicated to each of the seminal slashers.

If Fright-Rags' Black Christmas collection doesn't make your skin crawl… it's on too tight! The line includes all-new apparel and trading card wax packs.

Have yourself a scary little Christmas with Fright-Rags' "ugly" Black Christmas acrylic sweater featuring custom-knit artwork. The influential holiday horror movie has also received a 50th anniversary design on T-shirts and zip-up hoodies.

Black Christmas trading cards come in single packs (nine cards, one sticker), factory boxes (80 cards, two puzzle stickers, two parallel cards, one lenticular card, one checklist), and sealed boxes (two full base sets, two full sticker sets, two checklists, six ornament cut-out cards, four lenticular cards, two prismatic stickers, one metal card, one printing plate).

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Two previous Freddy Krueger tees have been restocked: a Raiders of the Lost Ark parody and the purr-fect "You’re All My Kittens Now" design. Fright-Rags also delivers three A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child tees in honor of the sequel's 35th anniversary.

Black Christmas and A Nightmare on Elm Street collections are available while supplies last at Fright-Rags.com, alongside recent drops from Terrifier, Thanksgiving, Joe Bob Briggs, and more.

Stay tuned for Fright-Rags' annual Black Friday sale, running Monday, November 25, through Sunday, December 1. Almost every product will be discounted, with shirts as low as $10, plus daily doorbusters, flash sales, and free shipping on US orders over $99.

#fright rags #black christmas #a nightmare on elm street #nightmare on elm street #freddy krueger

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munson-blurbs · 2 years ago

Note

Hello my dearest! I’ve got a fluffy request for you! Maybe the reader always wanted either a puppy or a kitten their whole life but never had one, and Eddie surprises them with one on Christmas morning?

I love you! 💚 - @corroded-hellfire

Did someone say cheesy Christmas fluff overload? Because that's what we got.

Warnings: none

WC: 1.1k

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

When you wake up on Christmas morning, you instinctively turn over to snuggle in closer to your boyfriend, frowning when you’re greeted with an empty side of the bed. Eddie rarely got up earlier than you did when he had a day off. The only explanation you could fathom was that he got hungry, so you head to the kitchen to sneak up behind him with some mistletoe. He’s not there, either, but there is a note:

Merry Christmas, gorgeous! Be home in 30 minutes with a surprise. Love, Eddie

You roll your eyes and smile. The note was thoughtful, but he hadn’t bothered to mention what time he left. He could’ve written the note five minutes ago or twenty-nine minutes ago. You decide to pour yourself a bowl of cereal and milk, munching on Cheerios while you wait.

When you and Eddie started dating nearly four years ago, he had no idea how to celebrate Christmas. His own parents barely acknowledged the holidays; Eddie confessed that one year, he only knew it was Christmas because all the kids came to school with their new toys from Santa. When he went to live with Wayne as a pre-teen, the man tried his best to spread holiday cheer, but money was always too tight. He’d get Eddie something he needed: new socks, school supplies; one year, when Wayne got a small raise and Eddie’s sneakers were practically falling apart, he got him a new pair from the Payless clearance section. During your first Christmas together, you’d gotten Eddie a new denim jacket he’d been eyeing at the mall. When he fished it out of the bag, he looked excited but confused.

“Babe, this is really nice,” Eddie had said, “but I already have a jacket.”

“Yeah, but you were practically drooling over this one in the store,” you’d replied, frowning at his reaction. “Do…do you not like it?”

“I love it!” He’d reassured you with a kiss to your cheek. “Just don’t want you spending money on stuff I want if I don’t really need it.”

“Eddie,” your face fell as you reached for his hand. “It’s Christmas. That’s what Christmas is about–making your loved ones happy.” At your sweet words, Eddie had picked you up into a hug, spun you around, and kissed you deeply.

You glance under the tree now, noting the crisply-wrapped gift awaiting your boyfriend. His wristwatch had broken a few weeks ago; the thing was ancient and on its last legs for a while. The new one you’d purchased had a stopwatch and an alarm, and you knew he would freak out in the best way.

You place your empty bowl in the sink, heart leaping when you hear the click of the key in the lock. Your smile only widens when Eddie walks through the door, clutching a large box in his hands.

“Hi, baby.” His hair is messy and his cheeks are rosy from the winter wind. “I hope you’re ready for your present.”

“Already?” you laugh. “I thought we normally open our gifts after dinner.” That’s how you’d always done it: celebrating Christmas with your family, Wayne in tow, and then exchanging your presents to each other before going to bed.

Eddie looks down at his full hands. “I think you’re gonna want this one now,” he says with a sheepish grin. As you get closer to him, you notice that there are holes lining the sides of your gift, and you’re fairly certain you can see something moving inside. And was that a bark?

“You didn’t!” you exclaim excitedly, opening the top carefully. A puppy with scruffy brown fur pokes its head out, tail wagging a mile a minute. “You did!” You gently lift him from the box and hold him to your chest. His tiny sharp teeth nibble on your fingers, but you’re too happy to notice. “Eddie, he’s so little and cute and perfect!”

“The people at the shelter called him Gary,” he tells you, “but they said you can change it if you want.”

You lift the puppy higher, inspecting him. “Nah, he definitely looks like a Gary to me,” you conclude, kissing his fuzzy ears and giggling as he licks your nose.

“Damn, dude,” Eddie pouts, peering at Gary, “you’ve been here for two minutes and you’re already stealing all my girl’s attention!”

“Poor baby,” you tease. “Don’t worry, we have plenty of love for the world’s most handsome dog dad!” You bring Gary to Eddie’s cheek, and the two of you pepper it with endless kisses. Once you pull away, Eddie clears his throat and starts to speak.

“There’s, um, one more surprise,” he stammers. “Did you look at Gary’s collar?”

You peer down and audibly gasp. Hanging next to his tags is a sparkling diamond ring, dainty and delicate, just like you’ve always wanted.

Eddie’s trembling fingers unhook the ring, and you watch through misty eyes as he bends on one knee. “Do you remember telling me that Christmas is about bringing happiness to the people you love?” He pauses, only resuming when you nod. “Sweetheart, you make me happy every damn day. I smile like an idiot just knowing we belong to each other, that we found each other, that we love each other. And I want that for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”

You’re so stunned that you forget to speak for a moment. It’s only when he takes your hand in his that your trance breaks. “Yes, Eddie! Of course I’ll marry you!” He slides the ring on your finger triumphantly, enveloping you and Gary in a bear hug.

“Did you hear that, Gary?” you ask as Eddie wipes the tears from your cheeks, “Mommy and Daddy are gonna get married!” Your eyes widen as you turn to your now-fiancé. “Babe, can he be the ring bearer?”

Eddie smiles and scratches under Gary’s chin. “D’you think you’re up for the challenge, little guy?” Gary’s response is to chomp down on Eddie’s finger, and you burst out laughing.

“He does not appreciate you questioning his ring-bearing abilities,” you chastise playfully, smushing your face against the dog’s. “Isn’t that right?”

Eddie rolls his eyes but can’t hide his joy at your love for your gifts. “I should’ve known you two would team up against me.” He pulls you closer and presses his lips to the top of your head. “You’re lucky you’re both so damn cute.”

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