Cody :D

── .✦ 🎄

You couldn’t exactly tell what time it was here, or how time moved. At some point, you had begun to keep a vague mental calendar. Habit had started giving you vague references for time now; every so often, he’d spout off what month it was, what the ‘outside world’ was shaping up to look like. He’d tell you if it was snowing, if the leaves were falling, if flowers were blooming, or if it was nothing but sunlight and clear skies. Recently, he had told you that the stores outside had started to play Christmas music again. He ranted about the annoying jingles and the overplayed Christmas carols daily now, so you had started marking down the days until you figured Christmas was roughly only a few days away, when he began to complain that the stores were already putting out cheap Valentine's decorations, already moving on from the holiday season and onto the next big holiday. When he talked about it, he almost sounded disgusted, or at the very least offended by how quickly people moved from one celebration to the next.

“Never really cared for the holidays, bunny,” he drawled. It almost surprised you at how patient he was in answering your questions today. Usually, he would’ve scoffed and rolled his eyes by now. Instead, he was mixing something up in a stainless steel bowl at the kitchen counter. You peered over his arm into the bowl, noting the chocolate cake mixture settled at the bottom of the bowl. He was humming under his breath; maybe he was in a good mood, indulging you and your frivolity out of amusement.

“Why not?” You asked, tilting your head as you leaned against the counter, looking up at him curiously. His expression soured, and he briefly glanced over to you before setting the bowl down on the counter, grabbing both sides of your face in his hands, masking his expression again with a sharp smile.

“When you’ve lived as long as I have, bunny, the ‘Christmas spirit’ really loses its appeal,” He replied snarkily, punctuating his sentence with a squeeze and a light shake of your cheeks that made you whine at him. “Besides, it’s a stolen holiday, like most human traditions. It's used as a cash grab more than anything,” He shrugged, leaving it at that and turning to the bowl on the counter again. “Ask me again next year.”

── .✦ 🎄

You were curled up on the couch on your side, staring at the wall, listening to the background noise of whatever was on the television, and Habit jacking around with something metal down the hall. You’d been like this most of the morning. You weren’t thinking, weren’t moving, just waiting for… something. Waiting for this odd emptiness in you to subside, for this deep, sad feeling to fade away. You couldn’t help the way you felt sometimes, when your mind drifted back to the past and how things used to be. You were a creature of habit, and it was hard for you to let things go, to move on from the happy memories you had made with your friends in favor of the life you were living now. You’d learned to put it to the back of your mind most of the time, but you did it more out of survival than anything.

You didn’t hear him enter the living room, but you were keenly aware of his presence once he partially climbed over the armrest of the couch, one knee on the armrest as he lunged forward, pinning you between his arms. He had one hand on the back couch cushion and the other firmly planted beside your head, caging you in as he loomed over you. He leaned down, nudging at your face with his muscled forearm until you rolled over onto your back, staring up at him with only inches between your noses.

“You look pathetic again, bunny.” He remarked, his nose scrunched and his gaze piercing through your own haze. You tried to glance away, but he only nudged you with his forearm again, wanting your complete and utter attention. “Why the sad face?” He asked directly, not giving you time to deflect or change the subject.

“…I dunno, things just feel…” You paused when he saddled you with a deadpan look, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t like it when you tried to dance around the subject or tried sugarcoat things even for your own peace of mind. So, you relented, tensing and taking a second to decide what was really wrong, to put your sorrow into words he could understand.

“We used to have Christmas parties every year. We would all pile up at Evan or Vinny’s house and just… have a good time.” He bristled when you mentioned Evan, but you just kept going, pushing yourself and forcing yourself to purge all of the memories lingering in your mind. Not too long ago, you had considered them happy memories, something you looked back on fondly, but now they felt like only fleeting reminders of your own guilt and despair over what had become of your friends since then. “I guess I just… Kinda miss it. The… togetherness and stuff,” you mumbled, your voice trailing off as your gaze shifted down to somewhere below his eyes, your shoulders going a little slack.

His expression was unreadable for a few moments, taking a second to consider everything. After a few more moments, he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion. “Don’t worry about it so much. Christmas isn’t even here yet, Bunny,” He huffed out dismissively, ruffling your hair and watching you wince as he sat up quickly.

── .✦ 🎄

The next day, when you woke up and rolled out of bed, trudging down the swaying hall and stumbling into the living room, you paused. There was a plain Christmas tree put together in the corner of the living room, a dark blue plastic box sat in the center of the room, overflowing with Christmas decor, along with an assortment of decorations messily piled up around it.

You hesitantly stepped over to the box, peering into it. Your eyes lit up as you glanced it over. It was filled with shiny glass ornaments and metallic beaded garland. There was a decorated wreath and stockings propped beside the box as well, tangled up strands of colored bulb lights scattered between them all. It was more than you had asked for, and you couldn’t help but smile a little. Had he really gathered up all this stuff for you? You didn’t want to get your hopes up; it could easily be for something else- a scheme or for another cruel project of his. But you really, really just wanted to be hopeful.

You perked up and glanced around. You knew he was probably lingering around somewhere. So, you started to wander around looking for him, peering down the hall, popping your head into a few rooms, before wandering into the kitchen, following the smell of something baking.

When you peered into the kitchen, you spotted him, slightly bent over and pulling a metal tray out of the oven. The tray was adorned with an assortment of cookies, from chocolate chip cookies to sugar cookies. He unceremoniously shoved the tray onto a trivet on the counter and kicked the door of the oven shut with the heel of his boot. He was humming again, a black linen apron tied around his waist with a cheesy ‘baking because murder is wrong’ tagline scrawled across the front in white.

When he turned his attention to you, you tensed, squirming in place for a second before you gathered the courage to ask him anything. “Are the…” You gestured vaguely towards the living room. “Are they for me?” You asked meekly, you felt bad for assuming anything, and you couldn’t help but fidget with your fingers.

He sighed, exasperated, turning to face you fully as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Course’ they are idiot. Already told you I don’t celebrate,” He repeated, shaking his head slightly. When your eyes lit up in response, he glanced away, back over to the tray of cookies. “Don’t expect me to get much more festive than this, Bunny.” He muttered and scowled, but you smiled. You knew he didn’t like being touched, but you couldn’t help it when you wrapped your arms around him out of excitement, squeezing him a little out of impulse. Your eyes started to water, hot tears already welling up despite your best efforts to blink them away.

He only huffed, rolling his eyes and nudging you with his shoulder. “Fuckin’ crybaby,” he muttered, but relented, wrapping his arms around you too and settling his chin on top of your head. “This was supposed to get you to quit moping.” He poked at your cheek, marking his point by wiping at the tears in your eyelashes with his thumb.

“Can’t help it…” You sniffled, “But I… I am happy,” you added, mumbling into his chest. “You didn't have to...”

He leaned down a little, his hand coming up to tilt your chin up so he could see your face. He didn’t take his gaze off your watery eyes, a dark, almost hungry look washing over his features. When he kept staring, you finally turned your head, your face going red. You knew that look; it meant he was getting pent up, and you didn’t want to push it.

“…Don’t be weird…” You mumbled, hiding your face for a second and wiping your eyes and cheeks with your sleeve.

He hummed, briefly moving to get a better look, but gave up quickly when you turned again and shoved at his shoulder. “Then don’t entice me,” he retorted, a cheshire smile spreading across his face as he shifted his weight from side to side.

── .✦ 🎄

He closely followed you into the living room after that, peering over your shoulder as you rummaged through the box of decorations briefly. You set a few things aside, primarily tugging the ornaments out of the box and setting them out in a line on the floor, organizing them by type. There were so many, each a different color of glass or metal, most ornate and particularly unique.

When you glanced back, he was already lounging on the couch, still smirking. He had one hand propping his head up and the other tapping incessantly at the couch cushion as he watched you organize the ornaments. You gave him a small smile before turning back to the tree and grabbing an armful of ornaments. You took the time to appreciate each one, smiling at the different patterns and etchings. It put you in an oddly cheery mood, having something to do with your hands for once and something to focus on. So, you decided to take your time with it, placing the ornaments in meaningful places.

“Did you ever celebrate Christmas? I know you don’t celebrate now, but did you ever in the past?” You asked as you started to hang ornaments from the tree, pinching the metal hooks so the ornaments would stay steady on the branches.

“A couple times, yeah,” He replied non-committally.

“…Ever as a kid?” You asked, watching him from the corner of your eye briefly. He tilted his head curiously, his eyes narrowing as he debated whether he wanted to answer that question, steepling his fingers together under his chin as he rolled onto his stomach. “Once or twice,” he answered carefully.

You promptly decided you weren’t going to press him much; you didn’t want to scare him off. So, instead, you turned the conversation back to yourself. “…I guess I kind of took it for granted when I was little. It was magical, even if it wasn’t much.” He visibly relaxed again once you switched the topic, regarding you with renewed interest. “What’d you ask for?” He asked, lazily kicking his legs back and forth.

You paused, stepping back from the tree to grab an armful of the garland from the box, before returning to the tree and carefully wrapping it around the tree, so as not knock the ornaments down. “As a kid? A lot of things. I don’t even really remember all the things I used to ask for; some of it I got, some of it I didn’t.” You answered, adjusting the crystal garland, tugging it a little tighter around the tree. “I guess I always wanted a cat for Christmas, but my family always said no," You carefully admitted, stepping back to look at the finished product of your decorating. The colored lights reflected off the glass ornaments, refracting and scattering light against the wood floors in an array of colors. You were satisfied with your work, clasping your hands together and taking another step back. The only thing it was missing was a tree topper.

He hummed in response again; you guessed the holidays were a touchy subject for him. Usually, he had something to say about everything, but now he seemed to have gotten quiet.

You went back to the plastic bin, digging around in it until you found a pretty star tree topper— and at the same time a worn-out Santa hat. You couldn't help yourself, quietly giggling to yourself and tossing the Santa hat to him on the couch, a bell rattling somewhere in the cloth. He instantly caught it, glancing it over clinically before shrugging his shoulders and tugging it on.

"Not very festive, huh?" You teased a little, giggling.

"Thin ice, bunny, don't push your luck.”

── .✦ 🎄

Habit eventually ended up helping you put decorations up here and there around the living room, after he watched you struggle for about fifteen minutes to put the star on the tree, standing on your tiptoes and stretching your arms. He came up behind you, yanking the topper from your hands and easily placing it on top of the tree. You couldn’t lie and say you weren't a little offended at how easy it was for him to do that at his height, even though he wasn’t even much taller than you.

It wasn’t until he started helping you put up the Christmas lights that he paused. He glanced between the Christmas lights wrapped around his hand and then you, a mischievous expression settling over his face. You only kept your back to him for a few short moments, trying to plan out where to put the rest of the decorations, when you heard a crack and then felt a sharp pain coiling around your ankle.

You yelped, glanced down as the rubber wire of the Christmas lights dug into your ankle, before he yanked it back and sent you sprawling to the floor and onto your back with a thud. You felt dizzy for a moment- then your mind began to race. You should’ve known you had gotten him riled up earlier. He always got touchy with you when you cried; more than once, he had made you cry on purpose just to get off on it.

He smirked, slowly stepping closer to you until he was looming over you, winding the Christmas lights around his hand until they were balled up. He leaned down a little further, until he was mere centimeters away from your cheek. “You know what would make this fun?” His voice was low and husky against your ear, before he straightened up.

He gave another sharp yank to the Christmas lights, testing their durability, before he gave a firmer tug and let you slide across the wooden floors. You squeaked, squirming and briefly trying to reach down to grab at the lights wrapped tightly around your ankle, but he was quick to yank you off balance again with a laugh. He dragged you through the hall, Christmas lights still wrapped around his hand and your ankle.

He dragged you through the hall and shoved his bedroom door open in record time. He had no reservations about manhandling you, tossing you onto his bed unceremoniously, but not without one hand pinning you down to the mattress firmly by your hip. He let the lights on your ankle go loose, tugging them off before winding them up in his hand again.

He tied your wrists to the headboard with the Christmas lights, synching them tight enough to leave you sore. He took the time to plug them in too, plugging them into an outlet somewhere behind the bedside table. The colorful incandescent lights reflected off of your skin and the bedsheets like stars; you could see the glow of it in his eyes as he looked you over, before straddling your hips, using his weight to keep you pinned, and tugging the lights just a little tighter.

He smiled once your wrists were tied tight, sliding off your thighs and back down the mattress as he adjusted the leftover lights in his hand. He looked you over again with critical, half-lidded eyes.

“Aww, look at you, already halfway tied up like a present...” He cooed at you, pleased with the work he had already.

“Halfway...?” You asked nervously, squirming your hips again as you glanced up at him.

“You didn't think I was going to waste all these lights by just tying your wrists to the bed, did you?” He asked you rhetorically, mocking you in a sickly sweet tone.

He pushed your thighs up against your chest, putting strain on the muscles of your thighs and stomach. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t regret the lingering ache once he was done with you. He wrapped the lights around the bend of your knees, but didn’t tie them tight just yet. Instead, he used one hand and tugged your shorts and panties down your legs by the waistband in one smooth motion, tossing them somewhere into the heaping pile of his blankets, pillows, and everything else on his mess of a bed.

You winced at the cold air suddenly hitting your hot core. You were already soaking wet, to the point it was almost embarrassing. He spread the lips of your pussy open with his index and thumb, rubbing and stroking at your wet folds and watching as your face flushed and your hips subtly twitched in response. Your breath hitched, and your eyes started to water again as he teased you, briefly rubbing his thumb over your clit before shifting to circle his index around your entrance. You were already overly sensitive from the cold air of the room, and his teasing never failed to make you more needy than you could ever imagine.

You were upset at his teasing, but even more upset when he stopped, whimpering out loud and watching as he moved back a little through your tear-stricken lashes. You wanted to move closer to him, but all you could do was squirm with the lights tied around your wrists, stretching your arms out further.

“Relax, bunny, you’ll get your fill once you're nice and stretched out. Can’t finish tying you if you're all tense like this.” Habit made a show of switching to kneading at your thigh, trying to spread you open a little further. Your thighs quivered as he rubbed circles into your left thigh instead, working his way up to your hip, trying to ease you into relaxing your muscles, so he could pull the lights tighter. To your credit, you tried, tried to stretch a little and let your legs go a little more slack, but you were still tense from anticipation.

“C’mon, you can do better than that…” he muttered. When his attempts to soothe you didn’t work, he tried switching his approach. He gave a sharp, solid swat to your ass, his palm connecting with your already sensitive flesh with a surprisingly loud smack.

You yelped, arching your back involuntarily, your thighs squeezing together on impulse. Your eyes watered from the sting- you almost wondered if it was going to leave a bruise, and you shot him a vague, weak glare- that really only served to further his amusement. You could tell by the stupid grin he had on his face.

“There we go,” He cooed at you, pulling the lights taut and into one final knot, binding your knees to your wrists. Once you were tied up- properly this time- he tugged his sweatpants down. He hadn’t even prepped himself, and he was already half-hard — the pink tip of his cock oozing and smearing precum over your bare thighs as he aligned himself. He nudged at your folds with the tip of his cock, only squeezing your hips when you whined at how long it was taking him. He eased himself into your sopping wet pussy inch by inch. He was taking his sweet time for once, slowly stretching you out as your hips bucked, aching for a little more stimulation.

Any other time, he would be pounding into you or moving fast enough that you couldn’t keep up, but the one time he wasn’t, you almost found yourself begging for it, for a quick release.

“P-please—“ you choked out, not managing to finish your sentence as he suddenly thrust forward, burying himself inside of you to the hilt, rolling his hips against yours.

“Hm? What was that baby?” He asked, viciously taunting you as he suddenly picked up his pace, pumping in and out of you quickly. His hands drifted down from your hips to your thighs, squeezing and kneading them like a stress toy.

“H-haah-“ You panted, your mouth watering. You were sweating, your skin flushing red, and your hair sticking to your neck and forehead. He hadn’t even broken a sweat yet, but he was giving you a complete workout now that he wasn’t slowing down.

“Keep squirmin’, and I’m gonna make you regret it, “ he threatened, his nails digging into the fat of your thigh as he got a little rougher with his pace, his hips snapping in place against your ass with each thrust, flesh connecting with flesh in lewd smacks.

The incandescent lights were starting to heat up now, glass burning against your skin as your own body heat up. The heat progressively got worse until you could barely take it anymore, salty tears rolling down your cheeks and chin. Yet at the same time, you could feel tight heat coiling at your core, inching closer and closer to pushing you over the edge.

“I-it’s starting to burn-“ you sniffled, pushing your head back against the wooden headboard and gritting your teeth. You were trying to hold back your sobs, trying not to thrash around from the pain, but it was starting to become unbearable, and all you wanted to do was jerk your wrists and knees back away from the lights, but the more you squirmed against them searching for relief, the tighter they got.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ crybaby, it’s not gonna burn you that bad,” he replied with a groan. “Be glad I don’t have a lighter with me, bunny.” He let out a deranged chuckle, a darker thought passing through his hazy mind. “Or hairspray and a lighter.” His words were cruel, but they made your walls clench around him, enough for him to notice and moan, his cock twitching inside of you. He groaned, picking up his pace, jamming his hips harder against you until you swore the tip of his cock was hitting your cervix. You sputtered, yelping as he kept up his pace until finally you came with a shrill cry. Your orgasm hit you hard, almost blinding you as you spasmed and writhed against the tight-wired lights keeping you firmly in place. Habit fucked you through your orgasm as wave after wave washed over you. You started to sob, more from overstimulation as he kept going rather than the burn from the lights.

“So fucking hot when you cry at me like that…” he hissed, panting.“You want me to stuff you full, baby?” He rasped, adjusting his grip on your thighs to tug you down against him harder, meeting his thrusts. You couldn’t respond to him, too fucked out to form any coherent words— even when you tried to, it just sounded like you were babbling.

“No? Want me to stop?” He asked, harshly slowing his pace, forcing you to respond. “Nuh-no—“ You choked out. Despite how overstimulated you were, you still wanted him to hit an orgasm; you wanted him to feel as good as you felt, and deep down, you wanted to share that with him.

“That’s what I thought,” he huffed out, his eyes rolling back as he resumed his brutal pace again. He let out a low groan, spilling into you and riding out his own high until the aftershocks faded out for both of you, leaving him a panting mess and you completely and utterly exhausted. He stayed inside of you for a while, reaching over to yank the cord of the lights from the outlet, before running a hand through his hair. But eventually, he slid out of you, and you cringed a little at the uncomfortable gush of fluid that leaked down your thighs. He tugged his sweatpants back on, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“Habit,” you breathily whined at him, still exhausted and aching as you shifted to try and get his full attention.

“Hm?” He hummed, looking everywhere but at you with a smirk, teasing you again.

“You can’t leave me tied up,” You tried to reiterate to him, but he pretended he wasn’t listening at all.

“Why not?” He asked, leaning forward on his knees with a sharp grin, finally looking you in the eyes. You sighed, almost resolving to figure out a way to stay comfortably bound to the headboard, before he shook his head with a breathy laugh. “You don’t put up much of a fight, bunny. Such a shame.” He sighed dramatically, untying you quickly, yanking at each knot until it came undone. He tossed the lights to the floor into a heap, and you were quick to settle against the headboard, trying to catch your breath. You spared a short glance down at the sticky mess between your thighs, but Habit didn’t let you look for very long, leaning down and licking at the tears under your eyes with the tip of his tongue.

“Gah- that’s-“ You yelped, shoving at his face with your palm. “Gross!” You whined at him, but it only encouraged him. He snickered, wrapping his arms around you and caging you in against his firm chest. “Too close to my eyes!” You sputtered, wriggling around in his arms until eventually you just devolved into a fit of giggles as he tugged you down to the mattress with him, laying you against his chest and nuzzling into your hair. Your eyes grew heavy and so did your body, but you were keenly aware of the pleasant buzz in your chest and the blissed-out haze still fogging your mind.

It didn’t take you long to pass out against his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on your burned and aching wrists with the pads of his thumbs.

── .✦ 🎄

You woke up the next morning, groggy and in unfamiliar, yet pleasantly soft pajamas, which were vaguely Christmas themed, a light blue with white snowflakes patterning it. You felt like you had been put through a wall; your legs and hips ached, and even your calves felt sore. Not to mention you still had purple marks on your wrists and red marks from the small light bulbs, you hadn’t even endeavored to look at the back of your knees yet. But the afterglow you were still feeling made it worth it, your body still buzzing with vague excitement.

You waddled out into the hall and then into the living room. You didn't end up getting much decorating done, but you had managed to decorate the tree, and it still brought a smile to your face. It felt like a fever dream. You almost couldn't believe that he had taken the time for such a sweet gesture-- you could barely believe that he had taken so much favor for you at all. Something in the back of your mind nagged at you, telling you that this happiness wouldn't last, that he would snap at you again eventually, but right now it was the furthest thing from your mind. You would deal with it when you got to that point again.

“Hey, bunny, c’mere for a sec,” you heard Habit call, something teasing in his voice as you rounded the side of the couch. You spotted him, lying halfway under the tree, staring up at the colorful lights nestled in its fake branches, with something black, white, and fluffy lying on his chest.

You knelt next to him as he sat up, shifting to sit with his legs criss-crossed and lifting the cat from his chest and plopping her down onto your lap. You stared down at her for a second before you gently offered her your hand to sniff at. She was chubby, an older black and white cat with a purple collar adorned with a small silver bell around her neck. The cat’s tail flicked back and forth as you got a little more emboldened to pet her, rubbing gentle circles behind her ears. Your heart melted like snow when she meowed at you, pawing gently at your hand. Your eyes began to water all over again; you couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something this sweet for you.

“What’s her name?” You asked, sniffling and wiping at your tear-stricken face with the sleeve of your pajama top.

He smirked, glancing off to the side, thinking about it, before he replied. “Mittens.” He paused, glancing back over to you. He was holding his head in his hands with his elbows settled on his knees as he watched you. “You like her?” He asked, reaching out with one hand to pet Mitten’s cheek with his knuckles.

“She’s adorable...” You mumbled back, and Mittens began to purr at you. You smiled, shifting her gently in your lap. You scratched Mitten’s chin, watching as the cat lovingly rubbed her cheek against your hand. You continued to pet her for a bit, cooing at her and whispering compliments to her. You raised an eyebrow at some of the odd little scars and stitches she had on her back. But you didn’t ask. You didn’t want to know, really.

Habit seemed satisfied with your response, lying back down under the tree. You decided to join him, setting Mittens aside. You laid down next to Habit as Mittens cuddled up between the two of you. You nuzzled against Habit’s shoulder, and he returned in kind, shifting to press a kiss to your temple. “Merry Christmas, bunny,” he muttered into your hair, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and you pressed against his side.

── .✦ thank you for reading! all comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated. ✦ .ᐟ

── .✦ © autumn_corpse, all rights reserved. please do not repost. ✦ .ᐟ

── .✦ back to masterlist. ✦ .ᐟ

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