#halloween drabbles

[jokeringcutio]

Halloween requests!!! I've been vibing for pumpkin season since September 1st, so this is fantastic! I can't wait to see what Halloween horrors abound here 😍

Hook (Peter Pan 2003) x female reader

Smut: No preference, so whatever strikes your fancy

Reader is at a Halloween party and somehow ends up in Neverland? Bonus if Hook has something to say about her pirate costume (author's choice if it's in the style of big boxstore tacky, sexy, 'authentic', or what have you 🙃)

If you aren't up for the request, it's all good!

Captain James Hook (imagine Jason Isaac’s Hook) x Reader Rating: T Warnings: Halloween Party, Pirates, Kiss. AN: Hope you enjoy! I am open for Reader insert requests, come at me ya'll.

Halloween Pirate

The night was alive with the laughter and chatter of guests, their costumes creating a colorful sea through which you had to find your way. The Halloween party was in full swing, held within a grand ballroom adorned with cobwebs and flickering candles, casting eerie shadows upon those who danced beneath the crystal chandelier. Macabre decorations of skeletons and bats hung from the walls, pumpkins were found in each corner.

It was a party you couldn’t just attend without an invitation. And a costume. Those who weren’t dressed for the occasion were bluntly sent home. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in your own pirate costume. It was an ode to days long past, with loving attention paid to every detail, ensuring authenticity and capturing the spirit of a swashbuckling adventurer. From your tricorn hat adorned with golden trimmings to the billowing white shirt peeking out from underneath a deep red waistcoat, it was clear that no expense had been spared in the making of the ensemble. Your black pants hugged your hips, tucked into tall leather boots that comfortably encased your feet, perfect for dancing. Or dueling.

"Ahoy, matey!" a friend called out to you, raising their plastic lightsaber in salute. You grinned and returned the gesture, allowing yourself to be swept up in the lively atmosphere.

A fellow pirate approached you, clearly impressed by your attire. "You've really outdone yourself this time," they said admiringly, eyeing the gleaming cutlass hanging at your side.

"Thank you," you replied, your voice filled with warmth and genuine appreciation. "I wanted to make sure it was as authentic as possible."

As you exchanged pleasantries with other party-goers, you couldn't help but feel a certain thrill – a sense that tonight would be one to remember.

You danced a bit with your friends and laughed a lot. But after a while, you felt your mouth turn dry and looked around for the tables with food and drinks on them. Of course, the drink you had set your eyes on was gone. An empty spot glaring at you. There was more in the kitchen, one of the waitresses told you, and so you decided to venture into the kitchen for a drink.

You made your way through the crowd, which was quite the challenge, to find yourself in front of a closed door that should lead to the kitchen. Here you had seen the waiters pass through all evening with fresh snacks and drinks.

But the wooden door was closed.

Weird, you thought. The door wasn’t very big either, smaller than you had thought it had been. Hadn’t there been double doors here? You must have remembered it incorrectly.

Pushing it open with a sense of adventure, you stepped into an opulent chamber that seemed worlds away from the raucous celebrations outside.

"Wow," you breathed, your voice barely audible as you took in the lavish surroundings. The walls were draped in rich tapestries depicting exotic lands and mythical creatures, while the floor was adorned with plush velvet cushions and ornate rugs. An enormous chandelier cast a warm glow across the room, illuminating a magnificent table laden with delectable treats and goblets of sparkling wine.

"Where in the world am I?" you wondered aloud, feeling as if you had somehow been transported to a realm of enchantment and luxury.

As you wandered deeper into the room, your fingers trailing over the smooth marble of a nearby statue, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something strangely familiar about this place, as if you had stumbled upon a forgotten corner of your own imagination.

A large map spread across one of the walls. Curious, you approached it.

Only to realize that this wasn’t a world map. Not the one you were used to, anyway.

There was no Africa, no United States, no Europe. This was no ordinary map. Perhaps something of a fandom, you mused. Perhaps this was part of a storybook or a movie? It depicted a world unlike any you had ever seen before, a place where mermaids swam in crystal clear lagoons and pirates' coves lay hidden among rocky shores.

Absentmindedly, you traced your finger along the coastline of the fantastical island full of detail, more than you would have expected from a fantasy map. The word "Neverland" was emblazoned across the parchment in bold, swirling letters, and your heart skipped a beat as childhood memories of Peter Pan and his Lost Boys came flooding back to you.

"Neverland," you giggled softly, shaking your head. Of course, you knew about that fictional world.

"Ah, so you have heard of our little slice of paradise, haven’t you?" A husky, low voice came from behind you, catching you by surprise. The huskiness sent shivers down your spine. There was something raw about that voice, something that made a warmth spark in the pit of your stomach. You turned around to find yourself face-to-face with none other than a man dressed as Captain Hook himself. He didn’t seem familiar, not anyone you’d ever met before. But he looked amazingly in character.

His piercing blue eyes seemed to bore straight into your soul, while his long black hair fell in seductive ringlets around his chiseled, stubble-lined jaw. He was dressed in the finest velvet, his tall hat adorned with soft white feathers that quivered with every movement. A silver hook gleamed menacingly from the stump of his right hand, a testament to both his ruthlessness and cunning.

"Captain Hook," you breathed, entranced by the vision before you. It was as if the infamous pirate captain had leaped straight from the pages of your favorite childhood storybook, brought to life in all his dark and twisted glory. This man’s costume was superb.

"Indeed," he replied with a wicked grin, stepping closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "So you have heard of me?” A pleased hum escaped his lips. “No wonder, since you are here.” He clicked his tongue, brushing the tip past his lips in a pensive gesture while he studied you for a moment.

“And who might you be, my dear? I don’t remember having seen you on my ship before."

You laughed, thinking the man made a funny in-character remark. The room did look like a luxurious cabin on a ship, you thought. And the man himself, he looked astonishingly like the real deal. Or well, like how you had imagined the captain would look like if he had been real. A perfect Halloween outfit, you thought.

“A fellow pirate?” He asked.

"Something like that," you replied coyly, your pulse quickening as his intense gaze roamed over your pirate costume. There was something undeniably alluring about this man.

"Your ensemble is quite remarkable," Hook complimented, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. "One of the finest I've seen in some time."

"Thank you, Captain," you replied with a playful curtsy, enjoying the way his eyes remained fixed on you with a subtle undercurrent of attraction. "I do my best."

"Clearly," he murmured, stepping closer until the scent of leather and sea salt filled your nostrils. His presence was intoxicating, filling you with a heady mixture of excitement and danger, and you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. "Now tell me, lass—where exactly do you hail from?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" you teased, meeting his intense stare with a mischievous glint in your eye. The game had begun, and you were more than eager to play along.

"Indeed, I would," Hook replied, his tone growing rougher as he sensed your willingness to engage in this dance of wits. "Perhaps I could persuade you to share your secrets, hm?"

"Perhaps," you mused, your heart pounding in your chest at his nearness. "But I think I'd rather keep you guessing for now."

For a moment, the man’s features darkened. As if he was frustrated by your response. Then his lips curled into a wicked smirk. "Very well," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "But remember, a captain always needs to stay informed. About anything,” here he paused and his blue eyes slid down your frame once more, “and everything,” he then added.

"Of course," you whispered, your breath hitching as you felt the weight of his words settle in your chest. Was he implying what you thought he was? Surely not. But then again, his eyes roamed your body and had darkened.

And then, before you could think about it any further, his left hand brushed past yours, and fingers tangled with yours, pulling you along gently but firmly. You followed, trying not to stumble at the sudden movement.

The tension in the air was palpable as Captain Hook led you away from the strange map and into a dimly lit, quiet nook. The atmosphere seemed to shift. You felt your breath hitch as Hook pressed you against the wall, his body effectively trapping yours.

“And right now,” the man whispered in your ear, breath tickling your skin, “I have stumbled upon a stranger dressed in such fine clothes, it makes me suspicious. Can she be a spy?”

Your eyes grew wide, feeling how you were still trapped between his upper body and the wall. The slight pressure was enough to keep you in place and at the same time, the friction created was making your nipples peak. “No, not a spy,” you quickly said, frowning. “I was looking for the kitchen. I never intended to end up…” Here you hesitated and tried to look around the man. Was this an expensive-looking office? Where exactly had you ended up?

"Be a mysterious, lass," he murmured, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. His gaze roamed over your outfit once more, this time lingering on the intricate details that made your pirate attire so authentic. "I must admit, I find myself quite taken with you."

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your eyes away from his piercing blue ones. As Hook's hand began to explore your body, tracing the curves and edges of your clothing, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of fear and excitement. His touch was firm yet gentle, and the contrast between his warm fingers and the cool metal of his hook sent an electric current through your veins.

"Tell me," he said, his breath hot against your ear. "If I were to take off these fine garments of yours, would I find you just as enchanting beneath them?"

His words hung heavy in the air, and you felt your cheeks flush with heat. Was this man serious? Then again, why didn’t you even try so much as to stop him? How come you enjoyed this? He was a stranger!

Hook had always been a figure of mystery and danger in your mind, but never before had you imagined yourself in such an intimate situation with him. And yet, here you were.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" you managed to tease, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a risky game you were playing, but one you couldn't resist.

"Indeed, I would," he growled, his grip tightening on your waist. The pressure of his fingers and the sharp edge of his hook served as a reminder of his dominant nature, and you couldn't help but shudder at the thought of what he might do next.

"Perhaps," you continued, your heart racing in your chest. "But you'll have to earn that privilege, Captain."

Hook's eyes darkened with desire, and you knew you'd successfully stoked the flames of his curiosity. Whether that was a wise decision or not, only time would tell. But for now, you were both caught up in the dangerous dance of attraction, unable to break away from the magnetic pull that kept drawing you closer together.

"Very well," he whispered, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "Tell me a story.”

His request surprised you, his voice low and inviting. A story? About what?

"Alright," you agreed, laughing softly. "Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a girl who found herself at a Halloween party, dressed as a pirate..."

You began to spin a tale that danced between fantasy and reality, weaving together your own experiences with elements from stories you'd grown up with. As you spoke, you couldn't help but notice how intensely Hook was listening to you. His gaze never wavered, and you felt as if he was seeing straight through to your soul.

Feeling bolder, you reached out and let your fingers trace the intricate embroidery of his velvet coat, finding it surprisingly soft beneath your touch. Not the fancy dress material, you noted, but the expensive real deal. Your eyes flickered up to meet his, gauging his reaction. He didn't pull away, instead, his lips curled into a slight smile, encouraging you to continue.

"Go on," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the gentle hum of the party in the distance.

Emboldened by his response, you allowed your hands to wander further, exploring the taut muscles beneath his clothing. The contours of his body sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself both fascinated and excited by what you discovered. The dangerous undertone to your actions only served to heighten the thrill, making your pulse race wildly in your chest. Whoever this stranger was, he was well-built, making your core pulse hot and wet. You knew you should stop before things got too far, but why stop now when feeling him up was bringing you such pleasure? You deserved a little bit of fun every now and then, didn’t you? And this man was fun. At the very least, he was exactly the type of man you had dreamed of. And he wanted to be touched by you. How often have you had a chance like this?

Hook's breathing grew heavier as your fingertips grazed over his chest, the feeling of desire clearly mutual. His striking blue eyes darkened with lust, locked onto yours as if daring you to push the boundaries even further.

"Interesting," he commented, his voice husky and thick with unspoken need. "But how does your story end?"

"Perhaps it doesn't have to end just yet," you suggested, your voice trembling with anticipation. You were playing with fire, but you couldn’t resist. A tad longer, you thought, just a bit more. Enjoy it as long as it lasts…

You felt your fingers trail down the curve of his shoulder, every inch of him a testament to power and danger. The tension in the air thickened as you brushed against the fabric encasing his arm, your mind racing with the excitement of the unknown. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn't help but wonder if he could feel it too.

"Careful," Hook warned, his voice low and almost playful. "There's more to me than meets the eye."

"Isn't that true for everyone?" you replied, curiosity guiding your hand further down his arm. When your fingertips grazed over something cold and metallic, you hesitated, your pulse quickening.

"Ah, you've found my little secret," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they held your gaze. "Would you like a closer look?"

You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the gleam of metal. As he slowly raised his arm, you realized with a start that what you had felt was not a mere ornament or accessory. It was his hook, glistening silver and wickedly sharp.

It was real.

And its presence sent shivers down your spine. Because this was more than just a fancy dress item. This was more than a costume. The hook was attached with expensive-looking leather straps. Too glorious to have been crafted for a Halloween feast. Perhaps he had played the part somewhere else, you wondered. But an eerie feeling settled in the pit of your stomach that there was only one explanation for why this hook looked so real and so sharp.

This man truly had no hand.

And this hook was truly a replacement for it, sturdy and made to last all the wear and tear of ordinary day life.

"Your... your hook..." you stammered, your wide eyes shifting between the deadly weapon and his piercing blue gaze. "It's real."

Hook grinned, a sinister edge to his smile that made your heart race even faster. "Of course, darling," he purred, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I am Captain Hook, after all."

In that instant, the line between fantasy and reality blurred. You were struck by the powerful realization that this man, this pirate, might be more than a man in a costume. He was alive, dangerous, and undeniably captivating.

“You seem surprised,” he murmured, “You weren’t a moment ago. What changed?”

Unable to find words, you stared at him, lips parting and closing like a fish.

"Does it frighten you?" Hook asked, his voice laced with a dark and seductive undertone that made it impossible to look away while he twisted and turned the hook in front of your face. You had no other choice but to watch the cold metal up close, see the sharp tip glisten in the light of the lamps.

You hesitated, but then your eyes met his hypnotic blue ones. A strange sense of resolve washed over you.

"Maybe," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I think... I think I like it."

Hook's grin widened, and for a brief moment, you could have sworn you saw a flash of genuine admiration in his eyes. "Well then," he said softly, as if sealing an unspoken pact between you. "Close your eyes," he instructed, his breath warm against your ear. Obediently, you allowed your eyelids to flutter shut, surrendering yourself to him completely.

And then, suddenly, you felt his lips on yours, soft and insistent, claiming you as his own. The kiss was like nothing you'd ever experienced before, a dizzying blend of passion and tenderness that left you breathless and aching for more. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, losing yourself in the intoxicating taste of him.

As the two of you kissed, warmth spread through you, making your skin tingle. This man was a good kisser, you thought. Too good to be true. Your knees turned to jelly and you were grateful to be wearing such sturdy boots or you might have melted into a puddle.

When at last you broke apart, your chest heaving with the effort of catching your breath, you opened your eyes to find Hook smirking down at you, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"I think I know the ending to your tale,” he whispered, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. "And they lived happily ever after,” a soft whisper that sent goosebumps down your skin.

Then he started to laugh, his grip on you tightening as he pulled you in close. Then he cut off his own laughter by pressing his lips against yours once more in a demanding and sensual kiss that made you see stars.

“I suppose you are mine now,” the captain mumbled once the kiss was broken. “After all, you are on my ship. And you know what they say, finders keepers.”

You wanted to laugh, wanted to say how silly that idea was, even though you felt flattered that he wanted to keep you. But then the wooden door through which you had come opened and a new man appeared. A sailor. Mr. Smee. He looked shocked, probably just as shocked as you. Because behind the sailor you didn’t see the ballroom you had left only minutes ago. Instead, you saw and heard the sloshing sea. Rambunctious pirates walked the deck. Seagulls flew overhead. And the very real and very cool metal hook was now near your throat, lovingly bringing you in for another kiss, when you realized, this was no mere man dressed in a costume to attend a party.

This Captain Hook was real.

~*~

AN: Out of 10, how screwed are you? Or… how much will you screw? . . . if you want to show me some support, why not buy me a virtual drink and help me buy new glasses in real life :) ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ Love you all

[ember-owlet]

🎃 CG!Vex’ahlia x Regressor!Percival (Vox Machina)

(Please and thank you Yuyu!!!)

- Your bitty blossom!!! 🌸 (@thetinyblossom)

a/c: It's so good to see you here bitty blossom!! absolutely, thank you for your request and have a happy halloween!!

CG! Vex'ahlia x Regressor! Percival de Rolo

Vex always dresses Percy with style while also keeping his comfort in mind, especially being accustomed to the groans of her brown bear companion if those requirements aren't met.

Is fascinated by the idea of trick or treating. You mean we can walk up to any house with a light on and get free candy? For the whole night? Sign them up.

Will stop every other hour to check in with him if he needs anything (a snack (and no, candy doesn't count)/water/potty break) as the excitement of the festivities can get him carried away.

One of the easiest pairs to get attention from other groups, especially when they bring Trinket along. Vex will offer free rides on him as long as they pay up with candy/treats to her baby.

She seems like the type of mom to walk around with a small cup of ale to keep herself light and enjoy the festivities with Percy.

Despite it being a struggle herself, she'll do her best to limit Percy's candy intake and instead gives some to her brother if Percy is alright with sharing.

[only-lonely-stars]

Halloween Drabble 6 (Sugar High)

[1 - Carving Pumpkins] // [2 - Trick-or-Treating] // [3 - Vampirism] // [4 - Scary Movie Marathon] // [5 - Halloween Party] // [7 - Costume Fight] // [8 - Cobwebs] – (FFN) (AO3)

Summary:

A collection of drabbles, all to do with Halloween!

Prompt:

Sugar high! (Dragongem17 on FFN)

"Hey, Nya! Where'd you put the candy?" a voice called from inside the Monastery.

"I left it in the kitchen!" the water master called back, just on the other side of the wall.

"It's not there!"

"Then I didn't move it, Kai!"

Kai grumbled sourly, coming around by her. "I just want my Kit-Kats."

Nya paused. "...You know, I saw Lloyd eating some of those…"

Their eyes widened in realization. "Lloyd got to the candy."

-----

Let there be a lesson known to all who cross Lloyd Garmadon, the mighty Green Ninja: never, under any circumstances, give him free access to sugar. As for why…

-----

Lloyd lounged over the back of the couch, head on the seat cushions and legs slung over the back. A pile of wrappers sat next to him.

"Lloyd? What happened to you?" Nya asked gingerly.

Lloyd grinned and looked up at her. "Hey, Nya! Nothing happened."

"You look dead," Kai commented bluntly. "Or high."

"Sugar high, maybe." Lloyd snickered. "It feels amazing."

"You're going to crash so hard tonight."

The younger ninja laughed and turned himself so he sat properly, then jumped to his feet. "I won't crash! You can't make me!"

Kai growled. "You ate my Kit-Kats!"

"Maaaaybe."

"I'm gonna kill you!"

"Catch me if you can!" Lloyd immediately dashed out the door.

"LLOYD!"

As her brothers ran off, shouting, Nya sighed and shook her head. "Idiots. Both of you are idiots." Her eyes strayed to the little pile of candy that remained. "Well… maybe I'll snag just one."

[bridgyrose]

In honor of spoopy season Penny, Weiss and Ruby freak themselves out with scary movies and a ouija board and end up huddled together all night.

(Might as well give this trio a right scare)

“This doesnt sound like an… intelligent… idea,” Weiss said as she watched Ruby and Penny.  

Penny finished setting up the ouija board as Ruby turned off the lights, her eyes practically glowing in the dark. “It is just a toy. Everything will be fine.” 

“Besides, its only for tonight.” Ruby put a slasher film on, watching the room light up as the tv turned on. “And Penny had the idea for it.” 

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose and sat down on the bed. “I swear to the gods, if you two keep me up all night…” 

Penny nodded and made her way to Weiss, giving her a small kiss on her cheek. “It will only be one movie and a few minutes with a toy that Ruby has wanted to try out.” 

Ruby practically jumped onto the bed next to Weiss, and then laid down across her lap. “You wanted to try it out too, Pen. Just a few minutes to see if it actually works, and then we’ll go to bed.” 

“And if it does work?” Weiss leaned into Penny, gently stroking Ruby’s hair. “We fight grimm, not demons.” 

“I am sure grimm count as demons,” Penny piped up as the movie started. “They do seem to come up out of nowhere.” 

“Just watch the movie.” 

Penny nodded and held Weiss close as she cuddled her, eyes glowing in the dark room as she tried to focus on the movie. She still didnt understand why Ruby liked movies like this, but if it gave her time with the two friends she cared about, then she’d watch whatever movie Ruby wanted. She relaxed, letting her mechanical hum ring through the air. 

As the movie went on, the planchette on the ouija board started to move, slowly sliding across the wooden board to the first letter, “I’. The lights in the room flickered on for a moment before shutting off, the tv powering off. Ruby sat up and made her way over to the tv, trying to turn it back on. 

Weiss sighed and sat up. “Everything alright?” 

“I think the power’s out,” Ruby said as she checked the cables to the tv. “Its not coming back on.” 

Penny got up and opened up the door to the apartment, looking around the hallway of the apartment complex. “Lights are still one, so we should have power.” 

“Its still not coming on.” Ruby smacked the back of the tv before getting back up. “I’ll check the breaker to make sure we didnt blow anything.” 

Penny closed the door and made her way back to Weiss, pulling her close. “I will keep you safe until she comes back.” 

“My hero,” Weiss said with a smile as she leaned in. 

Penny pulled Weiss close, gently rubbing her side to keep her calm. Her fingers clicked as she ran them up and down her girlfriend’s side, pausing when she heard a crash from the kitchen. She slowly sat up and looked over. “Ruby? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine!” Ruby called out from the bedroom. “Nothing’s tripped in the breaker, just trying to change a fuse.” 

Penny slowly got up, pulling away from Weiss to check the kitchen. Her eyes started to light up brightly to let her see in the dark, a ghostly green hue cast along the walls as she checked for anything that fell. She paused when she saw one of the cupboards open and a glass shattered on the floor. “Be careful around the kitchen. A glass shattered.” 

“Try to be careful,” Weiss said as she got up. “Glass will still tear into your skin.” 

“I will be.” Penny carefully grabbed the broom from the corner of the kitchen and started to sweep up the shattered glass, using her eyes to try to catch the gleam of light from the shards. Her ears caught the hum of the lights flickering on and off for a moment before the apartment went quiet again. 

A cold breeze started to pick up in the apartment as the planchette moved again, the bedroom door slammed shut. Weiss walked over to the door to open it, pausing when she felt it was locked. “Ruby? Did you lock the door?” 

“No!” Ruby called out as she tried to open the bedroom door. “Its stuck.” 

Penny finished sweeping and threw the glass shards away, walking to the bedroom door to try to open it. Her body froze as she heard singing behind her, her vision started to fade. The singing stopped as quickly as it came, her vision going back to normal as her hand gripped the doorknob. She gave a quick turn, feeling the door open without issue. 

Ruby pushed the door open, almost running into Penny. “Fuse has been replaced. Try the lights again?” 

Weiss nodded and flipped the lightswitch, freezing as the light came on and a geist stood behind Penny, ghostly fingers running across her shoulder. “Penny?” 

“What is wrong?” Penny asked, tilting her head a bit, then pausing when she caught a glance of the geist out of the corner of her eye. She quickly turned around, swords at the ready as the geist faded away. “That… that was a grimm… right?”

“I think so,” Ruby answered as she made her way to the ouija board. She picked up the planchette off the “Bye” space and sighed. “But maybe we should put this away just in case.” 

Weiss nodded and propped the door open as she grabbed a couple blankets. “And maybe we can watch one of those mindless action movies you like.” 

Penny scanned the room and put her swords away once she was sure there was no sign of the geist in the room. She slowly made her way back to the couch, keeping herself on standby as she watched her girlfriends. “And I will make sure to take care of it if it comes back.” She slowly put her hand on the couch to keep herself from shaking any further. “And to keep you both safe.”

[angstyaches]

for the sick or treat asks,,, what if we had shayne 🍫... a bit uncharacteristic but that's why i'm interested to see how you might write that! if you're up for it:)

Overindulgence also requested by @wussifer, thank you, my dears! Sorry the emeto isn't shown, I just really wanted some soft Sharlie and Belle.

Sick or Treat Game

CW: mention of emeto, overindulgence (soda; I still don't feel like he's at the point of actually overeating but still really loved the idea of this prompt!!)

___

“Happy Halloween!” Charlie waved as a tiny Jack Sparrow and a ghost sprinted towards where their parent were waiting at the end of the driveway. They stopped to wave again, almost spilling their candy buckets in the process. Charlie lifted Belle’s hand and gently had her wave back, much to the parent’s visible delight.

After all, how could one not be delighted by an adorable little cutie in a pumpkin costume? Charlie was about ready to drop dead out of love for his niece.

“You’re enjoying this far too much.”

A faintly raspy voice made Charlie turn his head as the trick-or-treaters walked down the street. He shut the front door again as Shayne skulked down the shadowy hallway, retreating from the noise and bustle of the living room. He hadn’t brought a costume, but in his usual dark attire, he didn’t exactly stand out. Charlie had wriggled into a cheap plastic clown jumpsuit he’d bought a few years ago, which Ingrid had – characteristically – stored in a box until the time came for it to be used again. He'd thought about doing face paint, but had decided that since Belle was probably still just learning to recognise him, he'd be better off without it.

“And?” Charlie grinned.

Shayne raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the wall next to the door, as though he intended to let Charlie come up with his own answer. His dark eyes swiveled to Belle, who was elegantly drooling around the tips of her own thumb, and then fixed on Charlie’s face again.

He looked... a little off.

“Hi,” Charlie said experimentally.

"Hi."

Charlie tilted his hip, drawing both arms around Belle and twisting his upper body in the opposite direction, so that he could lean over and give Shayne a kiss on the cheek. He felt Shayne’s fingers softly graze his hip, and Charlie ached with the need to bury his fingers in his boyfriend’s hair.

They’d been behaving themselves all night, due to the fact that they were barely ever out of sight of Charlie’s family; not that Ingrid or Trevor ever made them feel bad for being physically affectionate, but Charlie would rather swallow a spider whole than give Jonathan any excuse to tease or embarrass him. Besides, present moment aside, the thought of doing anything too intense near Belle made him a little uneasy.

“So..." Finger still lightly tracing over Charlie's waist, Shayne cleared his throat. "I threw up."

Charlie frowned, adjusting Belle on his hip again. “You what? When?”

“Few minutes ago.”

After making sure Belle was stable between his waist and his elbow, Charlie laid one hand against Shayne’s cheek, once more inspecting his complexion and the brightness of his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Shayne nodded, pressing his cheek into Charlie's touch. "I'm fine."

“Is it stressing you out? Being here?” Charlie asked, his mind racing as he struggled to recall any signs that Shayne was having a bad time. He’d seemed content enough to listen to Nicole’s complaints about Belle’s sleep schedule, and to Jonathan’s ridiculous ramblings.

“No, it’s fine. I just…” Shayne ran a hand over his stomach, shaking his head. “It... might have been the cherry coke.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows.

“Every time someone speaks to me, I can’t help drinking more, and people have been talking… a lot,” Shayne admitted, looking like he was working hard to suppress a shiver.

“I'm sorry, lovely. Are you sure you're okay?” Charlie asked again. He gave another glance towards the sitting room door.

Rubbing at his stomach again, Shayne shut his eyes and nodded. "I'm fine."

“Well… want to stay out here with us for a bit? Give away sweets?” Charlie broke into a smile as Shayne eyed the glass bowl that was just about half-empty by now. Whether he looked apprehensive because food was involved, or because he was still being required to be sociable, Charlie wasn’t sure. “You can glare at the trick-or-treaters all you like. Give them your scariest one.”

“Really?” Shayne glanced at Belle, and back up at Charlie. "Scariest?"

“Yep.”

“Can I teach Belle how to glare, too?"

Charlie barely held back a scoff as he turned his head to observe his niece's bright green eyes. She was gazing back at him, head tilted back as though to get a wider view, as though she couldn't get enough of the sight of him just as much as he couldn't get enough of her.

"She smiles way too much,” Shayne observed.

“Only you could think a baby smiles too much.”

They both started slightly when there was a knock on the front door, followed by a chorus of high-pitched voices calling, “Trick or treat!”

With some apparent effort, Shayne peeled himself away from the wall and moved a hand towards the door handle.

“Ready, Belle?” he whispered.

Charlie grinned, hugging his pumpkin niece a little closer.

[anneimaginesundertale]

Trick or treat (this time your skelly of choice, who wants to give baby Randy the candy more XD)

Naturally, since you gave me the choice, I consulted the official Wheel of Boys to figure out who gets to open the door this time.

You have to hold Randy back from ringing the doorbell, because it really has become his favorite new toy. "Just one push," you tell him, "and then we wait for Uncle, okay?"

"Kay," Randy says, but you have to distract him with a toy after the first "ding dong" has him in a fit of giggles.

You hear a scuffle behind the door and then Anne's teacher voice. "We're using the wheel! You'll all get a turn, but if you can't wait patiently like adults, I will personally make sure you don't get a turn. There are loads of pumpkin guts on the back porch for people to clean up if you can't behave!"

The door then opens and you find Lucky standing there, looking a little disheveled but very pleased with himself. "Happy Halloween, young Randy!" he says. "Happy Halloween, Ray!"

Randy drops his toy and reaches his arms out for his uncle. "Ucky!" he cries. "Twicktweett! Singasong?"

Lucky laughs and grabs the tot, lifting him way up high. "This is Halloween, this is Halloween!" he sings and Randy laughs even more. Lucky twirls around with him. "You pick anything you want out of the bucket," he says and bends low.

You watch your child grab a fistful of candy from the bucket and listen to him squeal-scream as his uncle lifts him high up in the air again. "Good job, buddy!" you say. "Put it all in our bucket now!"

Randy flings the candy at the bucket as you hold it up. He manages to get three pieces in. The rest flies off the porch into the grass.

"Oh dear," Lucky says. "I'll go clean that up. Happy Halloween again."

[ftl-faster-than-life]

Trick or treat! + Eobard and Iris

Have some oddly bittersweet EoIris. Identity shenanigans ahead, SFW, Barry's mentioned but he's been dead for years.

He watched her rise and start to get dressed from under the fringe of his lashes, eyes narrow slits of blue. She was graceful, unself-conscious. Beautiful, as the sunlight that filtered through the curtains highlit the curve of her back as she bent to pull up a stocking. "I know you're awake." She remarked, without looking up. He sat up, summoned a sheepish smile that fit his features.

"I--"

She looked up then, catching him with a sharp look in green eyes. "And I know you're not him, either." She told him, and he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. All of the air in his lungs turned to a leaden weight. Before he could marshall his thoughts and take action--what should he do? Run? Kill her? He didn't want to kill her--she smiled at him. "I knew the moment you kissed me." There was something in her voice--something wistful, bittersweet. It confused him, and he finished sitting up slowly, slinging his feet over the side of the bed.

"..why did you let me--" He stopped. Why had she taken him to bed, knowing all along that he wasn't her dead husband adrift in time? If she'd known since he first kissed her--the entire time! The smile she gave him was enigmatic, something there that he couldn't identify, and he gripped and released the covers underneath him fretfully.

"Why didn't you leave?" She countered. He licked his lips, thrown by the question. She didn't seem to need a verbal response, though, and just nodded.

"You loved him, too." She spoke the words like a statement rather than a question. Strange to hear her say it--he never had. He nodded. Her smile grew--crooked, but there was something fond in it.

"So...what now?" He wondered. He didn't know what he hoped for, let alone what to expect. She sighed.

"You can't stay." She stated, firmly. He felt a pang, but nodded. "Wally would know, for one thing. You look like him--" She reached out, touching the short-cropped blond hair that crowned his head. She ran her hand gently to cup the side of his face, and he found himself closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. He let the moment last, drawing it out with his powers, and even then it felt too soon when she said, regretfully, "--but you're not him. And you should leave." His heart clenched, and for a moment anger fluttered in his chest. Resentment. It died just as quickly, though, as she leaned in and pressed her lips gently to his.

"Goodbye, Eobard." Iris murmured as she turned around. She didn't need the rush of air to know she was alone again.

[just-a-dinosaur-i-guess]

Hiii

Lemon Futon + "THAT'S your plan? Really?"

YAYY

To pretend like he was above stupid Halloween tricks would be a lie, but this... "THAT'S your plan? Really?" Katai wrinkled his nose, staring up at the shrine, before glancing at Kajii. Felt like it was pushing some limit. (Who even holds parties at places like this, anyway?) Kajii grinned at him excitedly, clapping his hands. "Did you expect anything else?" Katai huffed, nestling further into the layers of his costume, internally appreciative Kajii had designed it so he could even do that. Kajii shoved a bell into his hand, pulling Katai's mask down even as he yelped. "Kajii-!!" "You need those!" "I-I'm already wearing the gloves-" Katai protested, blinking- he could hardly see with this thing on. "Yes, but it all must be accurate!! If we are to see yokai, then they must believe we're simply another one of them!" Katai's face went pale. "Wait, Kajii, what kind of party are we crashing-"

btw this is what katai is dressed up as

[readwritealldayallnight]

You narrow your eyes at your boyfriend, watching as the all too smug smirk on his face stretches further.

“Simon, don’t-”

“I’m on such a sweet roll though, lovie.”

“No.”

“I’m gettin’ in the Halloween mood! Thought it’d make you laugh-y taffy.”

“Terrible.”

“Just like candy wrappers are tear-able.”

“No.”

“No need to be such a sour head.”

“Simon I’m so serious-”

“Alrigh’, alrigh’.” Simon relinquishes, reaching a hand towards the candy bowl in your lap, meant to be for the trick or treaters, but has been acting more as his inspiration for as many awful puns as he can think up.

“Twix or treat?”

You groan at the awful joke, only partly hating them, secretly loving Simon’s dad jokes.

“Your jokes are going to give me a cavity.” you reply.

“How’s about tit or treat?”

“Inappropriate. Not even Halloween related.”

“Sure it is. The treat’d be to see your boo-bies.”

[museaway]

ask box trick-or-treat (fic writer edition)

Send an ask with "Trick or treat!" to the writer who reblogged this & you could receive a 3-sentence fic, drabble, headcanon, sneak-peek at a WIP, the last sentence they wrote, a new fic idea, random line from a fic, picture of their notebook, a deleted line they love, an idea for a sequel, something they're researching, behind-the-scenes info on a published fic, or something else!

happy halloween!

reblog to welcome trick-or-treaters to your inbox! 🕸️🦇

[buckyalpine]

“Yeah, he’s just sort of laying on the curb in fetal position…” Sam glanced over his shoulder to see if Bucky was still curled up on the road, the vacant look on his face still going strong.

“Alright, I’ll be there” you hung up the phone and grabbed your keys, not bothering to change out of your raccoon pjs after the very strange phone call you’d just gotten. They weren’t far; the Halloween Haunt Sam and dragged Bucky to was at a family farm a short drive away. You’d planned on joining them later than evening but-

You parked and scanned the area, jogging over when you spotted a giant bunny with his magician on the ground.

“Baby? What’s wrong with him” your face scrunched up as you tried to suppress a laugh while your boyfriend mumbled something, staring off into the distance. His cape, hat and wand had been discarded to the side leaving him in shorts, a vest and for some reason his shoes. His pants were nowhere to be found.

“Someone got greedy and ate too many candy apples” Sam cackled, his giant floppy ears flapping with the movement. “Apparently sugar crashes are a super soldiers kryptonite”

“Oh, Bucky” you cooed, taking a seat beside him, your fingers carding through his hair. His lips were stained cherry red from the candy, pupils blown wide. “How you feeling bubba”

“I see dead people” he whispered, to which you sighed, nodding with him.

“I’ll keep you safe” you giggled at the content hum he made, scooting over to lay his head on your lap instead. “How are we getting him home- oh. That’ll work” You looked up to find Sam with a giant wheelbarrow, his white fluffy sleeves rolled up, currently stretching his arms.

“Gotta limber up, this motherfucker is heavier than he looks”

You snorted watching Sam brace himself before hauling up a half limp Bucky and dropping him into the bucket of the barrow. He squeaked at the sudden movement, gripping the sides of dear life while his legs hung off the edge.

“IM BEING TAKEN BY A STEROID RABBIT”

“That’s just Sam, baby”

“STEROID RABBIT NAMED SAM”

“No, it’s just us Bucky”

“WHO IS BUCKY”

“Fuck”

“THEYRE GONNA EAT ME”

“I bet he tastes like socks”

“Sam”

“FATHER HELP”

[lqveharrington]

Golden Snitch | R.L.

summary: you convince remus to dress up together and everyone LOVES the costumes

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

includes: underage drinking, cursing, kissing, Sirius and reader behaving like siblings, overall fluff

a/n: poll is releasing tmr to vote for this or the draco one!

Although Remus wasn’t big on dressing up for Halloween, you absolutely adored it. Since your childhood, you always looked forward to the holiday and the tacky outfits from the spirit store down the street. Since Remus’ childhood, the holiday only reminded him that everyone found werewolves terrifying as death itself.

But you made sure to change all his horrid memories to good ones the second you met.

Over the years, you slowly coaxed Remus into dressing up and having fun on Halloween, especially when his best friends threw the Gryffindor party every year. When you began dating, the costumes you made him wear became couple costumes. Some of your favorites being Phantom of the Opera, Beauty and the Beast, and The Great Gatsby.

This year — your final year at Hogwarts — you wanted to wear something that would be talked about for years. You wanted something so spectacular that it would be remembered. Luckily, you had just the couples costume in mind.

“Remind me again, why do you need a quidditch uniform?” James threw a curious look to Remus who was currently reading Little Women, a book you made him read for entertainment purposes. “If you’re telling me you’re joining the quidditch team during your last year, I’ll go bloody mad.”

“I’m not.” Remus flicked the page and sipped on his tea beside him, glancing at James from the corner of his eye. “Just need to borrow one.”

Remus, James, and Sirius have gone through this dance about ten times. Each one ending in the talk of the latest play before James sobered up and asked about the uniform again. It was a never ending cycle of bickering.

Sirius threw a crumpled piece of plastic at Remus’ head as the painting opened up, earning a loud sigh from the boy himself. “Yeah, but why do you need to borrow one?”

“Don’t throw stuff at Remus, Black.” You huff and make your way over to the trio, flashing your loving boyfriend a smile as his hand made their way to your hip. “What did they do this time?”

“Why are you assuming we did something?”

“Yeah, we’re saints!” Sirius dropped down on the couch beside Remus, sending you an oh-so innocent smile.

You roll your eyes at him and flash him your favorite finger, “Says the devil himself.”

“Hey—!”

“They were asking why I needed a quidditch uniform.” Remus cut Sirius off before you two could argue for the nth time.

It was like you two were always fighting over him — which he had to admit — was funny to see unfold each time. Remus laced his other hand with yours and returned your attention back to him, thumb rubbing your pulse point.

“How’s your thing going?” He murmured when you sat beside him and rested your head on his shoulder, shifting his body to block Sirius from your sight.

You shrug, “Lily and I have been working on it. We’ll be done even before the holiday.”

“You two are so ominous, I don’t like it.” James shuddered, which earned a glare from you and an eye roll from Remus. “What? It’s obvious you two are planning something and not telling us.”

“Okay, well, I’m done with this conversation.” You sighed and pressed a quick kiss to Remus’ lips, looking like the love sick fool that you were. “I love you, and I’ll see you in a bit.”

You made quick steps up the girls’ dorm after Remus reciprocated the notion and left the three boys back to their dwelling.

“Why does she hate us and love you?” Sirius grumbled and popped a jelly bean into his mouth, grimacing at the flavor and spitting it out.

“Maybe because she’s dating him and not us?” James threw him an annoyed look.

Remus blocked out their bickering and went back to reading. He loved you and you loved him, and that’s all he needed to know. Besides, it was the boys who practically begged him to ask you out since first year. They knew he was smitten with you the second you both met on the train.

Eventually, James did lend Remus an unused quidditch uniform while you and Lily finished your costume for Halloween. The only thing left to do was perfect the actual look and win the couples contest.

“Hell, are you dressing up as one of our quidditch players for Halloween?” Sirius raised his brows in surprise as Remus shuffled out of the bathroom with said uniform on. “Which Gryffindor did you dress up as?”

“No one.” Remus replied in a bored manner and adjusted the leather gloves he had on. “I’m just a quidditch player.”

“Uh-huh. So you definitely didn’t dress as Prongs or I?”

“No.”

Sirius gave him an unimpressed look and shrugged on his vest for his Indiana Jones costume. “Whatever you say… Anyway, Prongs and the rest of them are already down there and I’m not waiting for you any longer if you’re going to gel your hair back.”

“Yeah, I’m going.” He grumbled and adjusted his uniform before following Sirius down the stairs and into the ongoing Halloween party.

The red lights flickered about as the music practically shook the entire room. Remus scanned the vicinity for you, struggling until Sirius almost dropped dead at the sight of you. It was the same reaction everyone had to seeing you dressed in… That.

“Holy fuck. Your girlfriend is wearing the shortest dress in existence.” Sirius gaped and earned a smack to the head from Remus.

Remus watched you dance and jump with Lily, eyes shining bright with joy when they met his. You beamed so bright and almost elbowed everyone in your way to make it to him. He caught you in his arms as you kissed him senseless, hands coming to rest on his cheeks.

“Hey, dovey.” He finally spoke when you both parted for air, thumbing your jaw softly. “You look absolutely stunning in gold.”

“Of course, I do, Rem! I’m a Gryffindor!” You laugh and eyes his outfit like he was a three course meal. “It’s interesting seeing you dressed in quidditch robes for the first time.”

“Yeah?” He continued to thumb your jaw in a doting manner. “Well if I did play, I plan on you being the snitch every game. I wouldn’t play otherwise.”

You tilt your head and meet his eyes with so much love. Now that you and Remus were standing together, your costumes made so much sense. It wasn’t just a quidditch player and a golden fairy, it was a seeker and the golden snitch. Sirius looked between the both of you before gasping and clapping his hands in realization, those around you looking over as well.

“Aren’t you two the cutest pair!” He gushed and pinched Remus’ cheek at the revelation.

Smacking Sirius’ hand away, you rested your chin on Remus’s shoulder to prevent him from doing such thing again. Remus laughed at you two and rubbed your back.

“You know, Marlene is looking for you, Siri.” You practically shout over the loud music.

“Is she?” He perked up at the mention of the girl he had been talking to recently. “Well then… I will catch up with you two later.”

You waited a little longer before laughing loudly at your own doing. Was Marlene really looking for him? No, but Sirius was always there whenever you wanted to be alone with Remus. Before you could stop laughing, Remus swatted your ass playfully in response to the poor prank.

“Hey—!” You pout jokingly, laughing again when Remus shook his head at you with an upturned smile.

As the night carried on, the crowd grew bigger, the music louder, and the drinks more alcoholic. It got to the point where you and Remus were too drunk to be the responsible ones in the group. Oddly enough, you both drank more than anyone else in the group.

However, you both won the couples costume contest and — for some reason no one could explain the next day — you decided to give a speech to the mass of Gryffindors in the common room about winning the contest. It wasn’t your proudest moment, but it was your last year.

Clambering on top of the wooden tables, you stumbled over your own legs as Remus tried to stabilize you. Lily, who was the responsible one for the night, rubbed her forehead in exasperation. She didn’t want to necessarily stop you. You were a whiny drunk, and it would be impossible to stop you from something you wanted to do.

“Wait wait — hiccup — I would like to thank the committee,” You hold your red cup close to your chest, your cheeks almost as bright as the cup. “Lily Evans — hiccup — the quidditch team, and my ever so loving boyfriend — hiccup — for making this all possible!” You throw your arms in the air, earning cheers from the crowd.

“What committee?” Sirius looked at Lily with a confused look, pointing between him and James. “Us?”

She shrugged and watched you jump down from the table, snickering when Remus nearly had a heart attack from your way of getting down. She made sure you both were okay before returning to James’ side, pointing you both out to him.

“You’re gonna be the — hiccup — death of me.” Remus tucked his head in between your neck and shoulder, nudging his nose on your exposed skin. “Don’t do that.”

“M’sorry.” You giggle and stumble slightly at the weight being put on you. “You baby.”

He kissed your cheek, “No.”

“Yeah.”

“No.” He dragged you over to the dormitory stairs. “Hi.”

You giggle and trace the scars on his face, “Hey.”

“You’re cute.” He melted into your hands and pecked your palm. “Really really cute.”

“You wanna know a secret, Rem?” You murmur and hiccup when he tugged you impossibly closer. “I promise it’s really cool.”

“What is it?” He pressed kisses everywhere he could, putting more attention to your lips.

“I love you.” You whisper against his lips and fully kiss him, the taste of firewhisky strong. “So much.”

He smiled into the kiss and parted briefly, thumbing your lip. “You want to know my secret, dovey?”

“What?” You look up and meet the hazel eyes you’ve come to love.

“I love you more.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[bamgyw]

˖°𖡼.𖤣𖥧 little red riding hood 𖥧𖤣.𖡼°˖

summary: afab!reader x werewolf!beomgyu just as little red riding hood entered the woods, a wolf met her. little red riding hood did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid of him. little red riding hood modern [smut] retelling.

warnings: little plot, lot of smut at the end. fingering, biting, sucking, they fuck in the forest? dub-con. definitely not as pretentious and cheaper than six nights.

word count: 6,5k

rey yaps: rey comeback. yay. as you can see, this is not the six night update. i am so very sorry. if you don't like it, i did it on purpose. it's camp. happy halloween. 

once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by everyone who looked at her. whenever the wind whistled she wore a warm, scarlet cloak, so she was always called little red riding hood.

the window’s open just enough for the wind to slip through and moan against the narrow slit. its sighs blend with the creeping chill of autumn nights, making it too easy for her to ignore the other sound—the low, mournful howl of the wolf stalking just beyond the trees. waiting. starving.

but inside—warm, cozy, oblivious—she’s giddy, caught up in the process of getting dolled up. the vanity of the pre-party ritual. halloween night, or the night to honor the ancestors' harvest festival by dressing like an unapologetic slut.

she leans in closer to the mirror, dragging the eyeliner brush across her eyelid. the black ink smudges into a sultry, careless flick.

her reflection stares back—rosy cheeks, fox like eyes, lips twitching into a smirk as she perfects her look. red little riding hood. she’s got that ominous, almost brilliant look of blood on snow; hair like lint, cheeks tinted a synthetic red, lips red like wine.

outside, the darkness gathers thick. that part of town—the forgotten edge where the trees grow too tall, too twisted, their branches clawing at the sky—has a reputation. by day, the leaves rustle with tiny, cheerful birds. but by nightfall the trees bend into shapes that shouldn’t exist, and the black between them isn’t just dark. it’s hungry.

she doesn’t care. not tonight. she’s excited.

she’s got a boyfriend, and she adores him in that hopeless, foolish way. taehyun—so princely, so mature, so different from any other boy she’s ever known. just the thought of him sends a flutter through her stomach.

but her excitement falters, her hand with the eyeliner brush pausing mid-stroke.

for quite some time now, she’s had the gnawing feeling that taehyun doesn’t like her anymore. he's distant. cold. the hunger in his eyes has dulled into something worse than disinterest. he doesn’t kiss her the same, doesn’t touch her like he used to. the golden glint of lust she once saw in his gaze is now replaced by dull apathy. 

but not tonight. tonight, she’s going to fix that.

she has gotten herself a ridiculous little dress, so charming and frilly that it would drive any boy insane. a costume meant for a twelve-year-old, that should stretch over her curves and frame her just so. a skirt that's more like a belt made of little ruffles, barely brushing the tops of her thighs. puffed sleeves, and a corset cinched tight enough to steal her breath—she doesn’t care. she’s pulling the hunger back into her boyfriend's eyes.

the cheap red costume lays across the tub, a mess of fabric that’ll turn her into something untouchable. a gift for him, draped in lace and bows. she shrugs off her bathrobe, careful to close the door but leaving the curtains wide open. why bother? what harm could come from the empty wilds?

in a deep red bra and panties that cling like fresh blood to bare skin, the fabric is thin, barely there, a gauze that the cool night air slices through. the chill raises goosebumps, and her nipples harden beneath the lace, two sharp peaks straining against the sheer veil.

somewhere in the woods, the wolf is watching. 

she notices her own reflection and pauses, taking in how her body looks under the dim light. the slight tremble of her chest, the rosy peaks beneath the lace. her breath catches in her throat as she runs a hand over her stomach, feeling the curve of her waist. 

somewhere in the woods, the wolf starts salivating.

she has drowned in self-loathing lately. the boy she loves has been treating her like she’s nothing. she’s felt like nothing. but tonight —must be the witches, the spirits and the ghosts— she feels pretty.

the wolf thinks she’s pretty too. he has spotted a tender, plump mouthful, and hunger is curling in his belly. he can’t hold back anymore, and his howl cuts through the silence—sharp, hollow, vicious. and the wolfsong is a warning. the sound of death by the window.

she freezes. a chill creeps down her spine, not from the cold, but from something primal. she holds her breath, listening. and then she hears it—a soft, distant inhale. a wet and heavy breathing. not hers. human, but not quite.

her head snaps toward the window, eyes wide. there, in the darkness, something moves. no, someone moves. two glowing yellow lights. embers, burning. they don’t blink. they just… watch.

she pulls the drapes shut, heart racing, forcing a grin. halloween, she thinks. just some asshole playing a prank. a cheap, silly trick.

somewhere in the woods, the wolf smiles.

just as little red riding hood entered the wood, a wolf met her. little red riding hood did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid of him.

"just go from streetlight to streetlight," she tells herself. 

focus. one light. two. a quick breath of safety before plunging into the next stretch of black. the cold night air curls around her, prickling her skin like needles.

her little red heels click against the uneven pavement, the sound echoing in the stillness. for a moment, she feels that gnawing, unshakable sense that she's not alone. but she shrugs it off, laughs under her breath, calling it paranoia.

the road ahead glimmers beneath a blanket of fallen leaves, slick and shimmering in the muted glow. on either side, the dense, impenetrable forest looms—a thick monster of dark green and black, framing her path to the party.

above, the moon, full and obscene, watches her like a voyeur. all still. all quiet.

except, that is, for the rustling of leaves beneath the predator’s steps. the wolf moves with ease, slipping behind her unnoticed, eyes on her legs as they sway, hungry. 

this is his territory. she just doesn’t know it yet.

tucked inside her little basket—a cute part of the costume she’s rebranded as a purse,—there’s a small pocket knife. mom’s voice echoes in her head: “you never know what's lurking out there, darling.”

however, no amount of steel could cut through the one rule. the rule older than the trees that lined this cursed path. in the history of women walking alone at night—never, ever make eye contact.

so when she sees the shadow up ahead—thin, crooked, leaning against a lamppost with a cigarette hanging lazily from his lips—her heart does what it must. it kicks into overdrive.

head up. eyes forward. don’t let him know you're aware of his existence. her fingers tighten around the basket’s handle, knuckles turning white. it’s fine, she lies to herself. just keep walking.

one meter.

he tilts his head slightly, tracking her as she nears, but doesn’t move. her heels click louder now, faster, echoing hollow.

two meters.

close enough to smell the smoke curling from his cigarette. her skin crawls, but she doesn’t falter. just a few more steps and he’ll be behind her, another shadow, another forgotten threat. she feels a sudden, punctuating cold down her neck, but she barely pays attention to it.

three meters.

she passes him, breath held, heart pounding. it's done, she's safe. her fear was stupid, it always is. then it happens—a hand, cold and solid, lands on her shoulder.

her stomach drops. she spins, ready to scream or run, but the words die on her lips when she sees him.

a beautiful boy, just—beautiful.

dark, untamed. his hair’s a mess, falling over his forehead, deep brown eyes glowing like embers. flannel over a ragged band tee, the faint scent of smoke and damp leaves hangs around him.

“you dropped this.” his voice is low, nearly a growl, as he holds out her little red hood. it must’ve fallen when she rushed past.

“o-oh.” she stammers, half breathless, “thanks. i didn’t even realize.”

as she takes it from him, his gaze lingers for too long, making her hyper-aware of the way the dress clings to her body.

“pretty…” he says, the word half-whispered. a slight and wicked smirk touches his lips, like he knows he can degrade the costume and the girl beneath with just a single look.

a shiver races down her spine, but she forces a smile. “t-thanks.”

his eyes drag up and down her body, slow, making sure she notices. heat blooms in her neck, unbidden, and she tells herself—this dress is for taehyun, not for some stranger who smells like rain-soaked earth and cigarettes. and yet, when he bites his lip, something flutters low in her stomach—dangerous, thrilling.

“little late to be walking around dressed like that, don’t you think?” he sneers, and scorn flickers in his eyes. but the humiliation sends a shiver through her, one she doesn’t quite hate. “you headed to the party?”

“obviously,” she shoots back, spreading her arms, letting him take in the dress—though he’s already noticed, definitely. still, she’s relieved. he knows about the party, and suddenly he feels closer, more familiar. not quite a stranger anymore. “you?”

“yeah,” he shrugs, casual, like it’s nothing. “not really big on parties, though. i prefer the quiet.” his voice dips, eyes lingering on her. “but you gotta socialize… or you get lonely.”

“right.” she quirks a smirk, finally letting herself look him up and down. “but it’s a costume party, you know.”

“oh, i’m in costume. i’m just subtle,” he says, grin spreading wider, darker. “wanna see?”

against her better judgment—against every instinct screaming at her to walk away—she nods. his smirk deepens. he lifts his lip, just enough for a single sharp fang to catch in the dim light.

she laughs, half-relieved. “that barely counts as a costume.”

“oh, but it counts,” he says.

“fine. so, what are you supposed to be?”

he leans in just a little closer, his words coiling around her like smoke. “that’s the game, pet. you have to guess. guess right, and you win something. guess wrong...” his smile widens. “well, i get something.”

naive and pathetically charmed by the boy, she raises an eyebrow. “what do i get?”

he leans back, pretending to think, though his eyes never leave hers. "i mean... i'm a stranger in the woods. you get to walk away... unharmed."

poor thing, she rolls her eyes like he was joking. "and if i don't guess right," she speaks, her voice softer now. "what do you want?"

"a kiss."

her heart stumbles. she'd give it to him, gladly. hell, she'd guess wrong just to get their lips together. but... “i'm really sorry i…” she stammers, smile faltering, “i have a boyfriend.” 

and though he doesn't seem fazed, his expression shifts. subtle, but unmistakable. his eyes darken, the playful charm fading away. “you shouldn’t go around teasing strangers when you're all alone like this,” he says softly, “might find yourself in trouble.”

she swallows hard, "i– i'm so sorry, i wasn't trying to—" 

“it’s whatever,” he says, stepping back into the shadows, his voice a low warning. “go to your boyfriend, little red. but be careful. there are wolves out here. and not all of them are as friendly as me.” he pauses, a smirk twisting his lips. “name’s beomgyu, by the way.”

and so little red riding hood wanders on, oblivious to the truth: wolves wear many skins, each one crafted to prey on vanity, on longing, on the hollow spaces left unguarded.

they slip through shapes, feeding on weakness and hunger. but it’s in the glow of those predatory eyes that you recognize him. the unmistakable trace of his essence, the constant lurking in every form.

the wolf is as cunning as he is ferocious; once he’s had a taste of flesh then nothing else will do.

the halloween party is but a yearly excuse for yeonjun to show off how filthily rich he is and make a joke out of it. as if by opening the doors of his mansion to the rest of the mortals he lets them in on the punchline. a spectacle for the sake of being one. a big parody of himself. 

and tonight, he’s dressed as gatsby, because of course he is. the slick white suit shimmers under the bruised purple lights, like a spotlight trailing him—and it might as well be, because yeonjun is the spotlight, soaking in every second of it. 

he carries a champagne glass permanently attached to his hand, always swirling just enough liquid to keep things classy but not sober. every grin he flashes feels rehearsed, and he keeps crooning “old sport!" at anyone close enough to hear.

he's a cartoon. a well-dressed, charming caricature of wealth and tragedy, and everyone in the room knows it. and they love it. and he loves it more than anyone.

the music thumps through the house like a pulse, vibrating underfoot and inside ribcages. it’s too fast, too loud, forcing everyone to keep moving or else be swallowed up by the noise. by the chaos. bodies blend together, creating a messy tangle of limbs and sweat, grinding and swaying under the flickering strobe lights.

a chandelier overhead swings crooked, crystals throwing fractured light around, mimicking a starry sky in a thousand different colors. it's gaudy, too big for the room, and yet perfect for yeonjun’s vision. a crown fit for the king of excess. 

she sits on the edge of it all, watching. just watching. taehyun’s next to her, but he might as well be miles away.

his eyes are glued to yeonjun who leans in close, whispering something in his ear, pointing out random people in the room. every now and then, taehyun’s lips twitch into a smirk as he scans the room like he’s calculating everyone's worth, everyone’s weaknesses.

he hasn’t looked at her once. she could have been invisible.

the bitterness stings, but she pushes it down. instead, she reaches out, her fingers grazing his arm, trying to pull him back to her, even if just for a second. “hey… you wanna get out of here? somewhere quieter?”

taehyun doesn’t react at first, not even a flicker of recognition in his eyes. he’s in his own world, lost in whatever game yeonjun’s playing. 

dressed as a medieval knight, his armor shines under the lights, making him look even more untouchable. when he finally speaks, it’s almost an afterthought. “yeah, yeah. in a bit.” his words are hollow, thrown over his shoulder like loose change. “just… give us a second.”

and before she can process it, yeonjun’s turning toward them with that same cruel smile he’s been flashing all night. “god, you’re clingy,” he says, “can’t handle not being the center of attention for, what, five minutes?”

her stomach twists, heat flooding her face. “i wasn’t—” she starts, but her soft spoken words quickly fall short.

“it’s fine,” taehyun cuts in, still not looking at her, “just… chill, okay? we’ll leave soon.”

it feels like a slap. not hard, not violent. just… cold. her chest tightens. and it’s so clear now—he doesn’t care. he’s tolerating her, only and barely. her fingers clench into fists on her lap. she swallows hard, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over.

"i’m… i’m going to the bathroom," she says, voice barely audible over the pounding music. but it doesn’t matter. taehyun doesn’t hear her. 

she drifts through the crowd like smoke, unseen, slipping between the life and color all around her, barely there.

she finds her way out to the porch, cold air cutting into her skin, sharp as the bitter edge of disappointment still lingering in her chest. she hugs her arms, the night heavy and indifferent, pressing in on her as if to make her smaller.

yeonjun’s yard sprawls below, made-up like a graveyard—plastic tombstones lurch from the soil, skeletons claw out of dirt, grinning skulls leer up at her from the fog.

her breath puffs into the night, fading just as she feels she has, every inch of her dressed up for someone who never even noticed. ridiculous fucking slut.

but then, the air thickens, a chill going down her spine. she senses him before she sees him. a crackle in the dark, the slow burn of a cigarette lighting up.

“you look… sad, little red,” barely a purr. low, smooth, a murmur from the dark that curls around her like a trap.

she startles, spinning, heart slamming up to her throat. it’s him. beomgyu. the boy from the woods.

he's lounging against a stone grave, cigarette dangling from his fingers. his face is a smirk made of shadow, his eyes glinting, almost like he’s playing at something, watching her to see if she’ll play along.

“why aren’t you inside?” she asks.

“i told you," he says, snuffing out the cigarette against the stone, his gaze never leaving her face. "i like the quiet. besides...” his smirk stretches, razor-sharp. “can’t say i’m exactly welcome in there.”

then he stands. he steps closer. that lazy, stalking pace that narrows the distance between them, each footfall a reminder of who’s in control. the night presses her back against the railing.

“you’ll freeze out here, pet,” he says, words tipped with a cruel sort of sweetness.

he’s looking at her the way a wolf might look at a lamb. like he could devour her whole, and god help her, a spark of thrill runs down her spine, sharp as a nail.

she stares, heart skittering in her chest, searching his face for something human—but his eyes are restless, ravenous. and yet they see her, see through her. why couldn’t taehyun ever look at her like that? why couldn’t he see her like beomgyu did?

“i… i want to take that bet.” she asks, trying to keep her voice steady.

his eyes spark, the faintest flicker, and she feels like she’s opened a door she can’t close. he leans in, his smirk curling wider. “what about the boyfriend?”

she holds his gaze, refuses to look away, “the boyfriend doesn't give a fuck about me.”

one of his hands is already sliding around her waist like a snake coiling around prey. the other lifts to the neckline of her dress, fingers sliding up to tug gently at the red ribbon there, toying with it.

“then guess, little red,” he murmurs, lips curling into a pout that pretends innocence, “what am i?”

and from the bottom of her being, she knows what he is. but she doesn’t dare put it into words. she decides to guess wrong.

“a kitten, maybe?” her voice comes out playful, teasing, such a pretty little fool, “with those cute fangs?”

he laughs, sharp and cocky, and she watches his tongue glide over his canines. “wrong,” he murmurs, leaning down, his grin widening. “you owe me something now, don't you?”

she smiles, heart racing as she tiptoes to reach him and his arm tightens around her waist, providing a steady anchor. her lips brush his just barely, the peck of a little bunny.

but he’s already got her, pulling her in harder, his mouth a claim, his kiss a taking. his lips are cold, but the kiss is hot, burning. his jaw tightens and loosens wide and heavy, lips pressing against hers with a force that feels like he's taking something from her—something she didn't agree to give.

she allows him to do as he pleases, giving herself to him like she's under a spell. she clings to his frame, hands gripping his shoulders, body caught up in the press of him.

her breath becomes shallow, her mind a blur. his touch, his heat, too much all at once, too intense, too—

she dares to open her eyes. just to look at him. just for a second.

and she's terrified to discover that his once brown gaze is now molten, liquid yellow, something feral staring back at her. her pulse jumps, fear clawing its way up.

she pulls back, gasping, but he’s already there, leaning in again, his mouth hovering like he wants to bite, to consume. she raises her hands, warding him off. “i… i think i should go back inside.”

"why?" he purrs, and his breath impatient and almost manic against her cheek. "scared, little red?"

her throat tightens, "i don’t really… know you, and…" she tries to step away, but his hands close around her waist like iron. trapping her.

"you don’t need to." his fingers dig into her, reminding her that her body is his to command. he draws her close, “let’s play one last game, pet. just one. what do you say?”

“what… kind of game?” she asks.

and just like that he lets go. he steps back. a twisted offering of freedom she knows can't be trusted.

“we race,” he says, voice low, almost playful. “you run. back to your house. if you make it—” his eyes gleam, hungry “—i leave you alone.”

“and if i don’t?”

beomgyu never replies. he stays silent, shadows pooling in his amber eyes.

the full moon hangs ivory, casting a ghostly glare across his face. he glances up at it, bathing in it's glow like it's medicine. then his gaze drifts back to her, that twisted, merciless smile twisting his face.

and he just starts counting down.

ten... nine... eight...

she doesn't wait for seven.

she bolts. she flies down the steps, heart pounding, her feet barely grazing the ground as she breaks into the night. gravel scrapes beneath her heels.

six.

she ditches her shoes mid-sprint, stumbling onto the cold, wet ground. the fake cemetery looms around her, fog twisting between the tombstones as adrenaline pushes her forward.

five.

the sound of him shifts, something subtle at first—a dark, guttural growl building low in his throat. her heart stutters. it’s happening.

four.

a crackle of bone, a sickening pop, a snarl splitting the quiet night. something breaking, reshaping. she hears his breath deepen, his bones stretching, snapping.

three.

a howl cuts through the night, piercing, shuddering through her bones, her skin, her soul. the sound belongs to something that is no longer human.

two.

she dares to glance over her shoulder, just once, and what she sees makes her blood run cold. a massive, shadowed figure, fur gleaming silver under the moonlight, teeth bared in a snarl that sends ice through her veins.

his eyes, the same molten yellow as before, are locked on her, brimming with a hunger that borders on savage.

she never hears the one. she just runs and runs, as fast as she can. but the wolf is faster.

carnivore incarnate, only immaculate flesh appeases him.

the trees claw at the sky. gnarled limbs jutted out, crooked talons waiting to snatch her, tear her apart, make her one with the dark.

she doesn’t run but hurtles through the blackness, branches snapping beneath her feet like brittle bones. the forest isn't just there anymore—it's aware, watching her, toying with her. she can’t stop. can’t even breathe. 

he's after her. and he's close.

“guess right, and you get to walk away unharmed.” how she regrets what she's done. she should've guessed right. should've kept her life instead of trading it for a kiss. stupid mistake. stupid choice by a foolish girl.

but just when she's about to give up she sees—between the curtain of twisted trees, the faintest flicker of light. her house. it's almost a visual illusion. something so desired it seems unreal. so near. almost there. her heart skips with hope.

she never makes it.

something cold as death clamps around her wrist, yanking her back. her body slams against a thick, gnarled oak tree, the bark biting into her back. it’s like the forest itself is starving for her, clawing at her, pulling her deeper into its hunger.

she feels red-hot, searing pain. then the wet warmth of his breath on her face. human again, if you can even call him that. all ragged, scraped and scratched. but human.

"run, run, run," he purrs, voice slick with amusement, "did you really think you could get away?"

it was never about catching her—it was always about the chase. the thrill of letting her think she could escape, just to tear that illusion apart in the final, hopeless moment.

she’s not escaping. not now. not ever.

"little red," he says with a sultry pout, his index finger tracing her jawline, “you seem so scared…”

“w-what are you going to do to me?” she asks.

she tries to wrestle, always avoiding his eyes. but each movement affects her physically, making her more aware of his body against hers, of his hands upon her.

he lowers himself, bringing his face close to her neck and breathes her in. his nose grazes her skin in a barely-there caress that makes her insides tighten. he nuzzles his head against her throat, his body stirring as if comforted by the scent. 

“you smell even better up close,” he says, his lips parting as they hover over her neck. he lets his tongue brush her skin, savoring the faint saltiness. “taste even better than i imagined."

he sends a shiver through her, a crackling thrill that races under her skin. her heart beats so swiftly that she feels as though this were the moment she had expected for years. she almost stands up on her toes to hear the rest of his words.

"you’re so beautiful, little red.” he continues. “boyfriend never noticed, but i did. i’ve been waiting for this… for so long.”

and she knows it's true. she would’ve known even if he hadn’t said a word—could’ve felt it in the way his arms cage her against the rough bark of that oak, the trembling eagerness in his body. 

he wants her, not gently, but raw and feral. and when she meets his gaze, those amber eyes glowing in the half-light, starvation licking at the edges, she feels something inside her shift. the want for this monster—this creature with fire burning in his stare, diabolically phosphorescent.

in quiet awe, she says, “what big eyes you have.”

“all the better to see you with.”

he does see her. exactly how she wants to be seen. and she wants to let him see more.

she pulls off her scarlet shawl—a flash of poppies, the bloody bloom of sacrifice. and since fear is of no use to her now, she sheds it like old skin, too. next, the blouse—soft, almost apologetic in the way it slides over her head—leaving her breasts bare, kissed by the cold silver of moonlight.

his arms find her without thinking, tight, firm, an embrace that feels like iron bands. in that grip, something stirs inside her, something she hasn't felt in so long it almost frightens her—it’s not just being wanted, but being claimed, protected, as though she belongs to him entirely.

“what big arms you have,” she breathes, her fingers tracing the hard ridges of his bicep, brute strength beneath her palms.

“all the better to hold you with,” he grins, his lips parting just enough for her to catch the white of teeth. the daggers of fangs.

her voice drops to a whisper, “what big teeth you have.”

“all the better to eat you with...”

his words slither out just before his mouth crashes onto hers, devouring. his lips, firm and greedy, drink from her, swallowing her breath, tongue invading with a force that leaves her dizzy.

his hands grip her body with the same ruthless intensity, fingers mauling her flesh like claws, leaving painful bruises blooming under his touch.

his mouth drifts lower, down to her jaw, down to her neck, teeth grazing her skin in teasing bites, until he finds the soft skin of her chest. the hardened, sensitive nipple. he sucks hard enough to leave a bruise. a mark of ownership. meant to hurt. to claim.

his tongue grazes the sensitive peak again, teasing her with the cruelty of it, dragging it out. her breath falters, and before she can choke it back, a broken whimper slips out.

“good girl,” he purrs against her skin, “such a good little pup.”

his hands aren’t far behind. they drift lower, fingers tracing the curve of her body, abandoning her chest like it’s no longer enough. they slide down her sides lingering over her stomach before slipping between her thighs. his fingers brush the garters, barely caressing the lace straps holding them tight against her legs.

“too tight, don’t you think?” his voice is quieter now, almost thoughtful. he traces the garter’s edge again, pressing into the skin where it’s biting in. “let’s see if it left a mark.”

he lifts her skirt, letting her feel every inch of skin being exposed, every second of her body laid bare to his gaze. her leg lifts instinctively, just a small movement, but enough for him to slide the garter down, peeling it away from her thigh.

and there, above the edge of her stocking, her skin gleams, reddened, damaged by the strap. he stares for a second too long, then up at her, asking for permission, knowing very well he has it already.

of course, she lets him.

his fingers skim the inside of her thigh, higher, until they’re at the edge of her panties, toying with the fabric like it’s something fragile. he grins, teasing. and she sees in his eyes, in his invigorated breath, that something violent is coming. 

his fingers press against her cunt, once, cold and firm, right against the damp fabric clinging to her skin. then comes a ruthless slap, quick, and she bites down on her lip hard enough to taste blood. then a second slap, harder, leaving her moaning, and her hips jerking toward him.

without a word, his finger slips past the soaked fabric, and makes its way inside her, slow but firm, pushing through the heat of her skin like he’s sinking into something molten, something desperate.

her back arches hard against him, her head falling onto his shoulder. the surrender comes easily—she doesn’t fight it. she opens for him, lets him push deeper, lets him take.

he stops when he’s knuckle-deep, breath hot against her ear. "you like that, little red?”

her heart slams against her chest, and the wet heat grows, slick and throbbing. she can only nod and let out a pathetic “hmph”. 

she’s already soaked, but the need—the ache—builds with every passing second, with every subtle shift of his breath, his body looming over hers like a shadow.

another finger slips in, just as slow, until he curls them inside her, pressing deep enough that she feels every inch. her entire body trembles, a soft moan slipping from her mouth.

he pulls out his fingers, but only for a second before he plunges them back in, harder this time, deeper. forcing her body to open for him. her breath hitches, and her cunt clenches around him, her walls spasming as he presses further.

“such a tiny little hole…” he says, almost to himself, a wicked grin curling his lips. 

when he withdraws, he drags it out, agonizingly slow, like he wants her to feel every ridge of his knuckles as they pull back. the emptiness is immediate, the loss of him, the loss of that pressure, unbearable. 

he holds his hand up, and her eyes widen. she can see the evidence of her need painted across his skin, shining under the dim light. 

the dampness between her thighs coats his fingers in a thick sheen. it glistens, dripping down toward his palm, the slick strings of her arousal hanging between his fingers. “so fucking wet for me,” he growls, his voice rough, edged with a sharp, dark amusement. “dripping like a little slut.”

his hand moves again, back down, fingers sliding over her trembling cunt, tracing along the wet, swollen folds. when his fingers find her clit, they barely press—just enough to make her shiver, just enough to make her whimper. the wet bud throbs under his touch, every nerve in her body firing at once.

"beomgyu p-please," she whispers, barely recognizing the sound of her own voice.

the grin that spreads across his face is demonic, a depraved satisfaction settling in the lines of his jaw. every second that passes is his to control. in one fluid motion, his hands are at the waistband of his jeans, undoing them with a pull. 

the pants slide down, peeling off like skin, and then he’s free. the hard line of him, thick, swollen, standing rigid in the faint light. it gleams, slick at the tip with precum, and her breath stumbles over itself, catching, holding, as her eyes latch onto the sight. 

his hand wraps around his cock and he strokes himself, the rhythm heavy. his size makes her breath hitch—the way she knows he’s going to stretch her, fill her completely.

the thought of him fucking into her becomes all-consuming. her thighs tremble, and she can feel the clenching heat between her legs, aching, desperate.

he moves corruptly slow, dragging the swollen tip of his cock down, sliding it through the soaked mess of her folds. it’s a tease, the wet heat of her slick coating him, and the pressure of him right there—right at her entrance—makes her head spin.

a moan escapes, soft, helpless, her lips parting as he toys with her, his cock gliding up and down, never giving her enough, always holding back just a little longer.

his eyes lock with hers, and they’re glowing, that eerie golden glow, something unholy in them, “beg for me.” 

“p-please,” she chokes out, the haze of lust clouding every rational thought. “please, beomgyu… i need you. please.”

the second the words spill from her mouth, he moves. he thrusts into her, forcing her open, the thick length of his cock splitting her apart. the stretch is instant, a burn that radiates through her core, and she gasps, her back arching as he fills her. 

the tightness of her cunt clamps around him, a desperate attempt to take him all in, and she can feel every inch of him, every ridge, every vein as he pushes deeper, harder, until he’s buried to the hilt, his cock seated deep inside her.

he grips her hips with ruthless strength, his fingers digging into her skin, sure to leave marks, bruises that will linger. he holds her there, buried deep inside her, savoring the way her body shakes, the way her walls flutter around him.

“ah, fuck…” he groans, his voice rough and guttural like he’s barely holding back from wrecking her completely.

a tremble runs through her like a live wire, raw nerves, everything sparking at once. she adjusts to the size of him inside her, body bending, flexing around the thick intrusion. she feels like she's being split open, the sharp line between pleasure and pain blurring until it’s just sensation—hot, pulsing, overwhelming. 

he starts to move, each thrust like a shock to her system. his hips grind into her with almost cruel force, ricocheting pleasure up her spine, waves crashing in her chest. 

"look at you," he growls, voice thick with satisfaction, "taking me so well. fuck, my little pet, keep making those noises for me,”

she whimpers in response as the coil of pleasure in her belly winds tighter, tighter, pulling her in. he slides in and out of her, their bodies tangled, twisting, rolling together. her cries now mount in endless spirals, loud as if he was murdering her. 

beomgyu answers each cry with a deeper thrust, pushing into her harder, his hips slamming against hers with a brutal sound. he’s lost in it, in her, in the need to possess her to annihilation. she belongs to him now, her body molded to fit his touch, pliable under his hands. 

his fingers tangle in her hair, yanking her head back, exposing the vulnerable curve of her neck, and his lips find her there, hot and hungry, biting, sucking, the sharp edge of his teeth sinking into her skin between breathless kisses.

his grip tightens as his thrusts become frantic, erratic, the control slipping from his grasp. “s-so fucking close,” he groans, his voice raw, trembling, every word a struggle against the rising tide of his release.

and with one final, savage thrust, she's the first one to shatter. 

the orgasm crashes into her with a force that steals her breath, her vision blurring, her walls clamping down around him as her climax takes over.

he escapes a low, animalistic sound. a howl that vibrates through her chest. he fucks her through her oversensitivity and his thrusts grow rougher, less controlled, his hips slamming into hers. the obscene slap of their bodies colliding fills the air, the noise of flesh on flesh, sweat-slick and raw.

he curses under his breath, his hips stuttering, his cock buried deep inside her as he finally comes, his release spilling into her, thick and hot, filling her completely, warmth flooding through her as her body trembles uncontrollably under the onslaught of pleasure.

beomgyu’s teeth sink deep into her flesh. biting hard enough to leave marks, her skin yielding under his canines, and she whimpers, too far gone to feel the pain, her body burning with pleasure, every nerve on fire, every sensation magnified as the aftershocks ripple through her, wave after wave of white-hot bliss.

his cock twitches inside her, pulsing, pumping more of his release into her, and she sobs, her body shaking as the pleasure rips through her, the intensity of it almost too much to bear. her vision blurs, white-hot flashes behind her eyes, and all she can feel is him—filling her, marking her, owning her.

with a snarl, he finally pulls back, releasing her neck, and a soft moan slips from her lips as his tongue flicks over the small wound he’s left behind, licking away the blood, soothing the sting with gentle kisses. there’s a tenderness to his touch now, strange and foreign after the brutality.

slowly, he shifts his hips, easing his cock out of her, and she whimpers at the sensation, her body so sensitive that every movement reignites the sparks of arousal beneath her skin. she feels him drag against her, the last of his release leaking out of her, warm and thick, a reminder of how thoroughly he’s claimed her.

she lies there, spent, panting, her body soft and malleable under his hands, no longer her own but something broken, something he’s molded, possessed. his slave, his ownership, growing soft under his fingers.

for a moment, everything is still. 

the only sound is their ragged breathing, their chests rising and falling in sync. his body stays pressed against hers, his warmth seeping into her, grounding her in the moment. his lips brush her ear, “you’re mine now, little red. all mine.”

she doesn’t even have the strength to respond. she’s spent, hollowed out, drained of everything, her body limp, barely held together by the weight of him, by the grip of his hands still clutching her as if she might slip away. everything feels far away, like she’s underwater.

the world fades—blurry sounds, dim lights—and then she’s weightless, cradled in his arms as he carries her like something fragile. 

there’s nothing but moonlit quiet and deathly cold in the woods. only the soft fall of his steps, paw prints in the ground. 

and little red sleeps, forever nestled in the arms of the tender wolf.

taglist 𖥧𖤣.𖡼°˖ @beomiracles @yoseicour @fairfootedflekk @bubbly-moon @izzyy-stuff and i know more people asked to be on the general taglist but i'm an idiot and i never kept track so. yeah. sorry. just ask again.

[only-lonely-stars]

Halloween Drabble 7 (Costume Fight)

[1 - Carving Pumpkins] // [2 - Trick-or-Treating] // [3 - Vampirism] // [4 - Scary Movie Marathon] // [5 - Halloween Party] // [6 - Sugar High] // [8 - Cobwebs] – (FFN) (AO3)

Summary:

A collection of drabbles, all to do with Halloween!

Prompt:

Lloyd and Kai costume contest. (Happy097 on Youtube/Discord) Note: I misread the prompt when I wrote it! Have Jay and Kai arguing instead.

Back and forth the verbal volleys flew, one after the other, back to back.

"I'm telling you, vampires are superior! Why else would Skylor match with me?" Kai asked accusingly, hands on hips.

"Because you made her?" Jay retorted, hand on his chest proudly. "At least mine looks good standing alone."

"As if. You look like an eight grade drop-out."

"Well you look like a washed-up theater teacher."

"You barely even had to change your hair, it's so messy and stuck-up!"

"Soooo like your ego? Perfect!"

From across the room, Nya groaned heavily. "Can it, you two. I'm sick of hearing your dumb insults."

"Come on, babe!" Jay whined. "Back me up here!"

"Hey, she's my sister," Kai prodded. "She sides with me."

"I don't side with anyone!" Nya yelled. "Both of your costumes look fine. I don't care."

"Fine as in okay, or fine as in fine?" Kai asked.

"The former, you moron!"

Kai and Jay shared a disappointed look, only to glare at each other again.

"Whatever. I still look good," Jay commented.

"You look like Einstein got fused with Doc from Back to the Future."

"Perfect!" Jay twirled, letting his scientist's coat flare out. "Doc Frankenstein is lookin' good."

Kai rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm sticking with my vampire."

Nya stifled a snicker. "Gonna sparkle and make all your fangirls swoon?"

"Yes!" He grinned, but then faltered. "Wait. No. No I'm not." Nya and Jay began snickering loudly. "Hey! You set me up!"

"Worth it!" She high-fived Jay.

Kai pouted. "...Does my costume look good, though?"

She smiled indulgently. "Yes, Kai. You look great. Jay, too."

The two perked up. "Really?"

"Yes, really." She grinned. "Almost as good as my siren costume…"

[bridgyrose]

Penny is positive the Atlas dorms are haunted after hearing moaning through the ducts.

(Lets twist this just slightly)

Penny paused as she heard a soft moan from the vent on the bottom of her wall, her body reacting with an almost human-like shiver as goosebumps ran across her synthetic skin. The lights flickered in the dorm room as she looked around. 

“Everything okay?” Ruby asked as she put in another movie. “These movies arent getting to you, are they?” 

“No, they are not,” Penny said as her eyes caught the vent the soft moan came from. “I heard something and was not sure where it was coming from.” 

Nora smirked as she sat down next to Penny, putting a bowl of popcorn down in front of her. “Maybe the movies are finally getting to you. I didnt hear anything.” 

“But I-” Penny went quiet as she heard another soft moan come from the vent, and then a *thud* from a book on her bookshelf landing on the floor. She slowly got up and picked the book up, hesitating as she looked between the shelf and the floor. “That is strange…” 

Ruby looked over to Penny. “You’re going to miss the movie!” 

Penny nodded and put the book back onto the shelf, the air around her grew cold. She could see her breath, or at least what she would consider a breath, as her sensors ran wild around her. The lights flickered for another brief moment and she jumped back as she saw a figure in the corner of the room that seemed to disappear as the lights stabilized again. 

“Penny, are you okay?” 

A shiver ran through Penny as she felt Ruby’s hand on her shoulder, her voice hitched as she tried to speak. “I-I saw… someone.” 

“There’s no one there.” Ruby sighed and pulled on Penny’s arm. “How about we stop with the movies for the night. As much as I love demons and spirits, I dont want you to have nightmares. If… do you dream?” 

“I do, and I did see someone.” Penny went with the pull on her arm, following Ruby back to her seat. “We can keep watching the movies. You like them and I like seeing you happy.” 

“Yeah, but if you’re seeing things-” 

“We can keep watching, Ruby,” Nora said as she started to munch on her popcorn. “We’ll spend the night once we’re finished and keep Penny company.” 

Ruby looked at Penny. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” 

Penny nodded and leaned against Ruby, relaxing as her sensors went back to normal. “I will be fine. I am sure it was just a pipe or something else.” 

“If you’re sure.” 

Penny watched the movie start, her hand gently moving over Ruby’s thigh as she leaned a little closer, relaxing against the woman she loved. Then, she heard the small moan from the pipe again, but this time, it seemed louder. She looked behind her as she watched the vent glow a bright red as steam started to pour out of it. “Ruby? I think we should leave.” 

“What do you-” Ruby froze as she saw the glowing vent. “Nora, we need to get out of here. Now.” 

“But we’re getting to the good part-” 

Penny grabbed Nora’s arm and rushed out of the room as steam started to fill in faster, the moaning growing louder and turning into a wail as it seemed to chase them. Steam filled the hallway from the other dorm rooms as they went deeper into Atlas Academy, a few of the vents glowing red as they passed by. Penny rounded a corner and opened up one of the doors to the classrooms and pulled her friends inside, locking the door tight. 

“What… was that?” Nora asked as she steadied herself. 

“I… I do not know,” Penny said as she went back over everything she recorded. “I could not get anything from it. No heat, no cold, just… nothing.” 

Ruby sat down and started to laugh nervously as she looked up towards the vent in the ceiling. “Alright Blake, Yang, you got us. No more scary movies, we learned our lesson.” 

A loud thump came from the door as a heavy knock hit it. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Steam started to pour into the room from under the door and the hallway glowed a bright red. Then silence… and the glow faded away. 

A minute passed before the steam seemed to pull itself back before an ear piercing wail picked up right from outside the door. Ruby quickly pulled the vent cover from off the ceiling, grabbing hold of Nora and Penny, rushing with her semblance through the vent. Talon-like spikes pierced through the ceiling and into the vent as it followed them. Ruby finally burst through the vent of the dorm she was staying in, panting as she lost her grip on Nora and Penny as her semblance faded. 

“Are you guys alright?” Yang asked from her bed as she looked up from her game. She paused for a moment when she saw the vent open, slowly lowering her scroll. “And… do I want to know why you guys came out of the vent?” 

“We need to get out of here!” Penny said as she opened up the dorm door, pausing when she no longer heard the wailing or saw any steam in the hallway. Her sensors ran wild as they tried to pick anything up, not seeing anyone in the halls or picking up any heat from the vents. 

Yang sighed and put her scroll away. “Alright, I get it, your scary movie night got a bit more exciting than you planned. Whatever it was that you saw, it wasnt real.” 

“But didnt you hear the wailing?” Nora asked. “It was just down the hall.” 

“Its been quiet all night,” Yang answered. “Well, except for you three yelling. I’m sure you woke the whole campus.” 

“What about the steam?” Ruby asked. “Or the glowing in the vents?” 

“Just your imagination.” Yang looked at her scroll as it dinged, opening up a picture of the cafe Blake and Weiss were at. “And… it looks like I’m late for my coffee date with the rest of our team. Guess their movie ended a bit sooner than expected.” 

“But what about the ghost?” Penny slowly closed the dorm door. “You should not go out there alone.” 

“I’ll take my chances.” Yang quickly picked up her jacket and threw it on, making her way out of the dorm. “But if it makes you feel better, my scroll is staying on and you can call me at any sign of trouble. Just… no more scary movies tonight.” 

Penny watched the door shut, the hair on the back of her neck standing up as she heard a soft moan from the vents once more. “Maybe… we can take our own trip out into Atlas.” 

Nora nodded and got up. “Y-yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” 

“I heard there’s a really great bakery not too far from here,” Ruby chimed up as she grabbed her cloak and put it on. “I’m sure they’re still open this late for dessert.” 

Penny opened the door for her friends, her eyes staying glued to the vent as she watched it start to glow once more. She quickly closed the door and rushed to Ruby’s and Nora’s sides, not noticing the steam that was starting to trail behind her once more. 

[angstyaches]

if you’re still taking requests for the halloween drabbles, may i put forth 🎇 for felix? i love that bean and i can just see so much whumpy potential for vamps getting too much sensory input on a night like halloween with kids running around the neighborhood and fireworks going off every other minute

Sick or Treat Game

CW: sensory overload, body horror/transformation mention, emeto, slightly awkward caretaking (a.k.a. Elliott's trying, bless him)

EARLY DAYS FELIX

___

Felix flinched as fireworks went off.

And off.

And off again. In an unrelenting string.

His fingers were aching from tightening the grip he had on his own shins. He swore he could feel his joints grinding beneath the skin, and yet couldn’t force himself to let up. His teeth were jammed together, otherwise they’d have rattled themselves loose by now.

The roar of blood in his veins almost masked the sound of a creature approaching from the dark, but Felix’s survival instincts kicked in at the last second. He uncurled his arms, slapping randomly at the air in the hopes of protecting himself. He sat forward, eyes squeezed shut, fangs exposed –

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!"

Elliott.

"Felix, it’s just me.”

Felix opened his eyes a crack and hissed as he sank back against the wall, hugging his knees to his chin.

“S-sorry,” he tried to say, but the word could have drowned in his throat for all he heard them over the clamouring, whistling, snapping nightmare of sound.

Every burst made him jump, like he was a popcorn kernel in a microwave and he needed to be popped, popped, popped, over and over and over again, until his insides were fried.

Elliott hadn’t touched the light switch as he came into the bedroom, but his amber eyes practically glowed in the gloom. He edged across the bedroom with his hands in full view and only the balls of his feet touching the floor, as though Felix were some spooked animal.

With a sinking sensation of horror in his gut, and the hollow sensation of feeling outside of one’s own body, Felix realised that he practically was a spooked animal. If he’d had fur, it would have been shifting into spikes along his spine, and if he’d had claws, they’d have been scraping at the bones of his shins by now.

A shattering crackle sent a jolt down his spine, and his tailbone collided with the floor as he involuntarily jumped. The terror lodged itself in the pit of his belly, settling into a throb.

“Whoa – hey,” Elliott whispered, slipping into a crouched position on the floor. “It’s okay. It’s okay, boo, you’re safe.”

Shivering through the next few clatters, Felix nodded, even if he didn’t believe it.

“You should see Ryan with the kids down there,” Elliott half-smiled. He brushed his palms against his own thighs. “It’s… kind of like watching a bird trying to communicate with a spider.”

Felix gulped. Opening up the townhouse gate to trick-or-treaters had been his idea – well, less of an idea and more something he’d hounded Ryan and Nancy about for months. He’d been so excited, and then…

And then the fireworks had started all across town.

He had no recollection of bolting upstairs. One moment, he’d been handing out fistfuls of sweets and theatrically flashing his fangs, much to the delight of the children, and the next, he’d been huddled between his bed and his dresser, shivering like a kicked puppy as tears dried on his cheeks and his breath rasped in his throat.

He didn’t even have it in him to feel guilty for abandoning his post. All he could feel was the irrational certainty that all of the clamouring was going to make his head explode and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Wh-why?” Felix tasted his own blood and it turned his stomach; his chattering teeth must have bitten into his tongue at some point. He eyed Elliott with a pained squint; clearly, he wasn’t experiencing the festive explosions as though they were being let off directly into his ear canals.

He cried out as a particularly loud boom reverberated through the floorboards and the walls and every single cell in Felix’s body. Gosh, even the sound of his own scream was just too much. Covering his ears did nothing; he’d already known this, yet that didn’t stop the instinctive urge to slap both palms against the sides of his head.

“Why?" he gasped again, "wh-wh-why is it this… bad?”

Elliott pinned his gaze to the floor, looking a lot like a man trying to decide how to deliver some bad news.

“It… gets easier,” he whispered.

Felix shook his head, hugging his legs violently to his chest again. That was far from what he’d wanted to hear. No promises, no solution, no end in sight.

“Only advice I have is to just… pick one thing to focus on, if you can.”

Asking Felix to make a decision while his brain was stuck fighting for his life was as useless as asking a crow for fashion advice.

His breaths were barely making it in and out. Nausea pulsed in his stomach, in perfect time with the pounding in his head and chest. Cold waves prickled his skin. It was a disturbingly familiar set of sensations, one he associated recently with a bite of food with just an iota too much salt; with a perfume being worn by someone in the next room over; with the flash of a headlight on the highway that felt as though it had burned a hole in his retinas.

Except none of those things had sent him into a panicked spiral like this.

“Darling… I f-feel sick,” Felix admitted helplessly. He didn’t have it in him to unfurl and let his body do what it needed to do. He needed to be curled up in the smallest, tightest ball possible, so that when the next string of pyrotechnics went off, he wouldn’t jump so hard that he’d crack his head on the bedframe. Or projectile vomit across the floor. Or slice the insides of his cheek with his fangs.

Crack, jump. Sizzle, jump. Boom-boom-BOOM, and there went his teeth into the inside of his cheek.

Mouth wide in a grimace, Felix let out a silent wail, because anything louder than a silent wail would have been too much to handle. His hands found their way over his ears again, and although Felix knew it wouldn’t make any difference to the noise level, he was hit with despair once again. There was no escape. No escape from it, no –

He gasped as he was bundled against something warm and solid and good.

“One thing,” Elliott’s voice whispered nearby, dulled by a much closer, much more urgent sound. “Focus.”

___

Felix opened his eyes and realised he’d lost time again. This time, he reckoned it was a mercy, because he was no longer flinching every couple of seconds. The city had calmed itself in time for returning trick-or-treaters to make their bedtimes. The street outside was quiet, save for a lingering cricket and the fluttering of some trash that had gotten stuck on a gate post. The room was quiet, save for the thumping next to Felix’s ear. The sound was soft yet steady, and slightly wet when he picked it apart in his mind.

He hugged Elliott as hard as he could with arms that felt like jelly now that the adrenaline was all gone.

“Hey, boo,” Elliott whispered, kissing the top of Felix’s head. “Feeling better?”

Felix managed a single shake of his head before he found himself clambering away, putting as much space between his mouth and Elliott's torso as he could before the grumbling in his belly could reach the back of his throat.

"Oh. Felix," Elliott whispered, planting a hand over the ridges of Felix's spine. The younger vampire sagged and heaved weakly, barely needing to retch, over the side of the bed, his stomach finally able to empty itself now that his body wasn't rigid and convulsing with primal fear.