#never have I felt so much joy on halloween

[bettinalevyisdetermined]

Aww, I woke up as early as I could, but it looks like the pumpkin is gone from my mobile dashboard, and with it, all the boops...

Wait, no! I opened Tumblr on my computer at one point! I might have a final count!!! (saves draft and switches to laptop)

Wow, you guys actually got me all the way to BLR again! *sniff* I'm so honored I have such wonderful fans who were that dedicated to booping me. X3

And would you look at that? 96 million boops globally! Just short of 97 million! And if we look at the April Fool's final count, at least according to what I screenshotted myself...

Yeah, nope, April Fool's still wins at 128 million. :P But hey, we got pretty close, didn't we? And I think staff left the tamagotchi up for longer than the pumpkin, so who's to say what could have been?

Like I said in the last post, Halloween is officially over. Time to shed the costume pfps, return to my regular ones, and turn off asks for a while.

Best Halloween ever!

[nhlclover]

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 | 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

— cozytober masterlist !

summary: your first halloween spent in your new house together becomes unforgettable after a trick-or-treater brings unexpected joy for you and jack

warnings: literally so much fluff it's crazy, jack kind of having a revelation

word count: 1.36k

notes: tenth and final fic of cozytober! hope you enjoy i thought this was such a cute idea.

As October settled in, the air grew crisp, carrying with it the scent of fallen leaves. Your neighborhood began to glow with an eerie charm — orange and purple lights strung along rooftops, spider webs draped haphazardly over bushes, and grinning jack-o'-lanterns perched on porches, their flickering candles casting shadows on the pavement. It was your first Halloween in your new home, and excitement buzzed in the air. You and Jack had spent the last few weeks transforming your house into a Halloween wonderland, determined to embrace the spooky season in full.

“This is going to be such a good Halloween,” you said, standing in the kitchen surrounded by packages of candy. You poured another mountain of treats into the bowl, feeling like a kid yourself.

Jack, lounging against the counter, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You know we’re probably gonna be that house, right? The one that gives out so much candy the kids talk about it all year?”

You grinned back, unbothered. “Good! We never got to do this in the apartment. We’re going all out.” You tossed another bag of chocolates into the mix, the bowl overflowing now.

Your previous apartment building didn’t have many kids, and handing out candy was never part of your Halloween traditions. But this year, nestled in a family-filled suburb, it felt like you were finally getting the Halloween you’d always wanted — the decorations, the costumes, the eager trick-or-treaters. You could hardly wait.

When the doorbell rang for the first time, you practically leapt off the couch. “They’re here!” you squealed, racing to the door like a child on Christmas morning. Swinging it open, you were greeted by a group of tiny witches, superheroes, and a very tiny dinosaur with a tail too long for his legs. Their eyes widened at the sight of your candy bowl, and you couldn’t resist giving them extra, their excitement contagious.

You watched them scamper off down the walkway, their candy bags bouncing, before collapsing onto the couch next to Jack, who had Ghostbusters queued up on the TV. “There was this little dinosaur, and his tail kept dragging behind him,” you laughed, snuggling under his arm. “It was adorable.”

“Is that what happens every time the door opens? You’re going to give me a recap of all the costumes you see?” Jack smirked, pulling you in closer.

“Absolutely,” you grinned, poking him playfully. “I don’t want you missing out on all the cuteness.”

And that’s exactly what you did. Each time the doorbell rang, you bounded up, eager to meet the next batch of trick-or-treaters. After every encounter, you’d return to Jack, excitedly recounting the different costumes — witches, zombies, fairies, and one memorable kid dressed as a very squishy marshmallow. Jack would laugh at your eagerness, but you could tell he enjoyed each one of your recaps.

Between the rounds of doorbell dashes, you and Jack sank into the movie, the Halloween vibe settling in like a comfortable blanket around you. The evening was perfect — the glow of the porch lights, the hum of neighborhood excitement, and Jack’s arm wrapped around you, making it all feel just right.

As the night began to slow and fewer knocks came, the doorbell rang one last time. You jumped up, still full of energy. “I’ve got it!” you called, already halfway to the door.

Opening it, you were greeted by a sight that made you freeze — a kid fully decked out in hockey gear, pads, helmet, gloves, and all. But what caught your attention was the jersey. The black, white, and red jersey stood out in the dark, the 86 on the sleeve glimmering under the porch light.

“Trick or treat!” the small voice squeaked from beneath the helmet.

Your jaw dropped as you let out a small gasp. “Oh my gosh, you look amazing!” you gushed. “Hold on—there’s someone who has to see this.”

You darted back into the living room, grabbing Jack by the arm. “Come on, you’ve gotta see this!”

Jack, confused but curious, paused the movie and followed you to the door. The second he saw the mini-hockey player in his own jersey, his eyes widened in surprise. The kid looked up, eyes shining as he recognized Jack.

“You’re Jack Hughes!” the little boy said, his voice filled with awe.

Jack crouched down to the kid’s level, smiling. “Looking good out there, bud,” he said, adjusting the boy’s helmet so it wasn’t covering his eyes.

The kid's dad, standing at the end of the walkway, waved his phone. “Would it be alright if we got a picture?” he asked, clearly as excited as his son.

“Of course,” Jack grinned. He knelt beside the kid, who raised his hockey stick proudly. You quickly snapped a few photos, capturing the pure joy on both their faces.

Before they headed off, you grabbed two fistfuls of candy and dropped them into the boy’s sack. “You get some extra candy for having the best costume we’ve seen all night,” you told him, smiling as he skated on his roller blades down the walkway.

Jack stood there for a moment, still processing what had just happened. You could see a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched the boy skate off.

“That was seriously cool,” Jack admitted, sliding his arm around your waist.

You nudged him playfully. “You’re a little stunned, huh?”

Jack chuckled, his eyes still lingering on the street where the kid had disappeared. “Yeah, I mean, it's one thing to see people wearing my jersey at games, but that little guy was really into it. He looked like he was having the best night of his life.”

There was a warmth in his voice, a mix of pride and disbelief. “It’s gotta feel pretty surreal seeing a kid look up to you like that,” you said, guiding him back into the house, his eyes still going back to the kid who was far down the street now.

Jack nodded, his smile widening as you took your places on the couch once more. “It just… it reminds me that this whole hockey thing is bigger than just me, you know? Seeing him so pumped, dressed as me for Halloween… it kind of makes it all feel worth it in a different way. A way that’s not just for me.”

You could tell that moment meant more to him than he let on. His eyes glinted with that same spark he had when he was passionate about something, and you loved seeing him like that.

As you both settled back onto the couch, you leaned your head on Jack’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of the moment settle in. “You made that kid’s night,” you said softly, glancing up at him.

Jack’s arm tightened around you, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I think he made mine too,” he replied, his voice filled with a contentment that made your heart swell.

As the credits rolled on the movie, you sighed happily. “Best Halloween ever,” you murmured, smiling to yourself.

Jack chuckled, resting his chin on your head. “You always say that,” he teased.

You laughed, looking up at him. “Well, this time I mean it.”

He grinned down at you, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Good. Because I kind of want to make this our new tradition. Decorating, handing out candy, watching you light up with every costume… I could get used to this.”

You leaned up and kissed him softly, feeling that familiar, comforting warmth between you. “Me too,” you whispered. “Me too.”

As you both sat there, the last remnants of Halloween fading into the quiet night, you couldn’t help but think about how special this first Halloween in your new home had been. It wasn’t just the decorations or the candy or even the costumes — it was the moments, big and small, that made it unforgettable. Moments like Jack seeing a kid in his jersey, or the way you both had embraced the evening together, fully present and happy.

And you knew that no matter how many Halloweens came after this one, this would always be the one that set the bar.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Halloween Party (Wade/Logan)

Description: Y/N, Wade and Logan have fun on the dance floor at their Halloween party.

Warning: Smut

Word Count:1,128

Request: nsfw mayhaps.. but Logan and Wade with a Younger!Witchy reader between like 19-21 ish? (witch practitioner not a blood witch) shes chubby, looks like a witch, acts like a witch? maybe she wears a costume witches hat for halloween and ride logan while wade makes out with her and just praises her 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Author’s note: I didn’t talk too much about the reader’s size in this but she is 22 and she is a witch for halloween but it’s implied she’s a real witch.

Logan watched her as she walked around in her Halloween costume getting ready for the party. He wasn’t one for Halloween but since he and Wade moved in with Y/N who they saved from the void, he was alright with it. Y/N was way younger than them. 22 to be exact and though Logan would usually feel creepy about something like that, he actually couldn’t due to her being flirty with him.

She was incredibly sexy right now? Oh he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She was dressed like a witch and all he wanted to do was take her up against the counter in the costume. “Logan?” He snapped out of his daydream and looked at her as she gave him a confusing look. “What?” “Can you grab the cups from the cabinet?” She asked. He stood up and went to grab them for her. He was embarrassed to say the least. She called his name 3 times before she got an answer. Maybe he was distracted about the party?

He wasn’t one for that type of scene. “Anything else?” He asked and she shook her head and moved past him. His eyes never left her as she moved around the kitchen. Wade coming through the door was the only thing that made him come out of distraction. “Hello party bitches!” Wade said through the kitchen. Y/N greeted him and Logan raised an eyebrow at him, not impressed. “Here is your alcohol.” He handed Logan the bottle and handed Y/N her mixer for her drink that she was making.

Logan took a sip of his drink as he watched her make whatever she was making. He didn’t care for the fruity drink she was making. He liked the rough stuff like whiskey and she hated that. But he would watch her do anything. “You’re staring too hard.” Wade whispered to him, knocking him out of his daydream. He glared at him and Wade shrugged, “The plan won’t work if you make it so obvious.” 

Everyone was here for the party and though Wade was having the time of his life talking to all of his friends, Logan was hard as a rock watching Y/N dance in her costume. The dress was short and showed off her body perfectly. It was like she wore it to make him act up. She was teasing him.

But to Y/N she was doing no such thing and just having fun. Logan was going to stay and relax while Wade made his way over to their little witch. “Hey Wade.” Y/N yelled over the music. “Hey pretty girl, do you wanna dance?” He asked and she nodded. “As long as you can hide your boner.” She joked and he chuckled, “No promises. Especially if you’re grinding up against me.” He whispered in her ear.

She felt the heat pool between her legs at his words but ignored it as they began to dance. Logan watched as the two were all over each other and grinding in the living room. He bit his lip and his eyes moved to their bodies’ middle as her perfect ass moved against Wade’s crotch. It was so sexual and passionate but that’s just how they were when they danced. Logan’s pants were tighter than before and he couldn’t help but walk over to the pair. “Hey peanut!” Wade yelled to him over the music.

Y/N looked at him and gave him a sexy smile. He watched as she grinded harder against Wade and took his hands. She pulled Logan to her front and he looked down at her with a dark stare. “Dance with us.” She says to him and he chuckled, “You guys are basically fucking.” He tells her to which she can’t deny. She takes her hand and runs it up Logan’s hard on.

He nearly gasps and she chuckles, “You’re so hard Loggie, Join us.” She said and bit her lip. “Come on Wolvy, I’m close to cumming all over her ass.” Y/N heard that and pulled away from Wade and took Logan’s hands. He watched as she positioned herself so her ass was against his crotch now and started grinding. She started out slow at first building him up. Wade was a noisy fucker during sex, how was he silent during this if Logan was having a hard time not making noise?

He realized that the music was loud enough to cover up the noises. “Fuck.” He grunted feeling her ass hump his crotch. He wanted nothing more than to take her on the living room floor for everyone to see but he was better than that. Wade got in front of her as she grinded her hips against Logan and sighed, “Fuck this is hot.” He said and Logan agreed. “You’re a perfect piece of ass, sweetheart.” He told her as his hands gripped her hips.

Wade got closer to her and his hand traveled down to her short dress and went under it to her soaking wet panties. “Damn sweetheart, you and I both are soaked.” Wade said and she gasped as he began rubbing her clit. She was aching so bad and he could tell. He got close to her and began kissing her as Logan whispered dirty things in her ear. “I bet being between 2 older guys gets you going, doesn’t it?” He bit her ear as she moaned into the kiss that Wade was giving her.

His fingers rubbed faster against her gushy aching needy pussy and she was losing it. “Our perfect witch. I wouldn’t be surprised if you casted a spell on us. Haven’t even had a taste of your pussy but I miss it.” “Fuck.” She whined against Wade’s lips. She was close and it was taking everything in her not to cum right at the party. Everyone was dancing or doing their own thing but she felt filthy dancing and seducing 2 older guys, the guys that she lived with.

“Fuck sweetheart, you keep this up I’m gonna cum all over your ass.” He warns her and Wade sped his fingers up causing her to grab him and gasp as her high approached. Her hips stuttered making Logan grunt and cum in his pants. She wailed against Wade as she came in her panties.

Her breathing was hard as Wade worked his fingers to help her ride her climax. Logan rubbed her back to calm her down while Wade held her in his arms. “Fuck that was hot.” Wade growled and watched as she gave him a smile. Logan chuckled, “Huh we are the old ones but yet you’re tired.” He joked and she laughed and yawned. “Oh sweetheart and peanut. I have yet to cum so we aren’t finished just yet.”

[adverbally]

Pick of the Patch

Written for the @steddie-spooktober day twenty-four prompt “pumpkin” | wc: 1,053 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: kidfic, family planning, A/B/O omegaverse (omega Steve and alpha Eddie), implied mpreg, minor angsting about how fast babies grow

———

The practical side of Steve’s brain recognizes how silly it is to buy a Halloween costume for an infant. Zachary is only eight months old; he’ll probably make a mess of it like every other piece of clothing he owns, and he won’t even remember the holiday anyway. Any money Steve spends on a costume is money that could go to buying diapers and groceries instead. It’s just wasteful, really. But…

Steve’s selfish, self-indulgent side just wants to see his child dressed like a pumpkin. Is that so much to ask?

He agonizes for weeks, looks longingly at the displays of tiny orange outfits every time he does the grocery shopping. Halloween is only one day, they’ll never get their money’s worth out of a costume. Except maybe they can use it again if– well, hopefully when– they have more kids. And really, can Steve put a price on the joy he’ll experience seeing his son’s chubby little cheeks peeking out over the top of a pumpkin suit?

He puts it in the shopping cart. Eddie can take it out of his Christmas present budget.

Later, after the groceries have been put away and Zachary has taken his nap, Steve tries the costume on him. It’s something like a baggy felt tunic, slightly stuffed to make its overall shape more pumpkin-like, with a black jack o’lantern face on the front. The accompanying hat is also puffy, with a short green stem on top. Zach, the easy-going baby that he is, doesn’t fuss while Steve dresses him, doesn’t even fight when Steve puts on the hat and matching orange slippers.

The effect is so adorable that Steve gets teary. “Look at you!” he enthuses. “Daddy’s little pumpkin.”

Not as little as he was, getting bigger every day. It amazes Steve to watch him grow and develop. Zach can sit upright on his own now, can babble and laugh and recognize his name and clap his hands. He’s got four tiny teeth and Steve’s nose and a tangle of dark hair like Eddie. He loves bananas but refuses to eat peas. He has a favorite toy, a blue dog plushie that he drools all over. He’s starting to become his own little person, with a personality and interests and everything.

“Do you know how amazing you are?” Steve murmurs, hefting Zach into his arms and kissing the top of his head. “I’m so lucky that I get to be your daddy.”

Zach shrieks in delight, waving a hand until he hits Steve in the mouth and giggling when Steve pretends to bite at his tiny fingers.

He hears the front door open on the other side of the house and grins. “You wanna go surprise your dad?”

“Baba!” Zach babbles excitedly.

“Yeah, let’s go see Baba!”

It’s a short trip down the hallway from the nursery to the entryway, where Eddie is shrugging off his coat and kicking off his boots at the same time in an impressive balancing act. He looks up when he hears Steve and Zach approaching. “My two favorite boys!”

As soon as Eddie frees himself from his outerwear, he reaches for the baby with gleeful grabby hands. Steve passes Zach over, then accepts Eddie’s kiss hello.

“I’ve never seen such a cute pumpkin,” Eddie coos, smoothing a hand down Zach’s side to straighten out his costume. “Your daddy got you this, huh? Do you like it?”

“Baaaa!” Zach grabs a handful of Eddie’s hair and kicks his legs, thankfully missing any vital areas.

Steve chimes in, “He hasn’t stopped smiling since I put it on him. Though it could just be that he likes the attention it gets him.”

“Wonder where he gets that from,” Eddie muses innocently, just to make Steve laugh. To Zach, he says, “Wait until Grandpa Wayne sees you, pumpkin. He’s gonna eat you up!” He punctuates it with a tickle attack, cackling evilly over Zach’s screaming laughter.

The sight is so sweet that it makes Steve’s teeth hurt, but he also can’t deny the lump in his throat. With Zach growing so fast, it won’t be long before he’s walking and talking and getting too big to carry and starting school. Blinking to clear the tears welling up in his eyes, Steve distracts himself by adjusting Zach’s cap where it was dislodged by his ticklish squirming.

“You okay?” Eddie asks softly.

Damn him, he knows that being nice and gentle just makes Steve cry more. He rubs at his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, just thinking, you know. Our baby won’t be a baby forever.”

“Yeah,” he concedes, “but we’ll get to see him become other things. A toddler, an artist, a soccer player. A clown, maybe, who knows?”

Steve reluctantly smiles at that. “A kid of yours? Almost definitely.”

Eddie keeps his outraged gasp silent, mindful of Zach in his arms, before becoming serious again. “You want another one, don’t you.” Not a question, just a confirmation.

His throat is so tight that he can only nod. They haven’t talked about it since Zach was born, but their plans included a handful of kids, at least. Of course, Eddie could have changed his mind since then. Maybe the sleepless nights and endless laundry and lack of sex all add up to something he doesn’t want to go through again. Maybe he’s happy for Zach to be an only child, like both of them were. God, Steve hopes not.

Instead, Eddie shrugs as much as he can while holding a twenty-pound child in a pumpkin costume. “I’m ready whenever you’re ready,” he grins. “Mine is the easy part, so I’ll follow your lead.”

“Really?” Steve is so relieved he can’t stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks, even as he laughs giddily. “Okay, as soon as my heats start up again, we’re going for it.”

With his free arm, Eddie pulls Steve in for a kiss. It’s brief but sweet, both of them smiling through it. Steve is so full of love and excitement that his head swims with it.

“Bababa!” Zach interjects.

“Are you ready to be a big brother?” Eddie asks him, bouncing him gently and kissing his forehead. “You won’t be the only pumpkin in the patch anymore.”

They’re definitely keeping the costume for their next baby.

[forever-rogue]

It's a Lifestyle

AN | Hello, its me! Back from the dead for my favorite time of the year. It's just a sweet little scene with Eddie and his angel and their love of Halloween! 🥰

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie looked forward to coming home every day. So much. Like so much. 

Because he always knew that you'd be there, excited to see him, even if it hadn't been that long since you'd last seen each other.

He parked his truck in the driveway of the small house that now belonged to the two of you.

A very own home for you both.

He noted your car in the driveway as well, but when he came inside the house, you weren't there to greet him. He took off his boots and set them by the door, reaching down to pet Pickles as she wound herself around his legs. The small black cat purred loudly before giving him one final rub and heading over to the window to sit on the ledge and stare outside. People and animal watching had become a favorite pastime of hers.

"Angel?” he called out, wondering where you had managed to disappear too. He poked around downstairs but found nothing but the delicious smell of fresh brownies. It was like you'd known that he had been craving them. You definitely made the best brownies…not that he was biased or anything.

When you didn't answer him, he climbed up the stairs, assuming you were in the bedroom or office or…somewhere. Hopefully.

As he got to the top of the stairs, the floor squeaked slightly. That alone was enough to alert you to his presence, “Eddie?”

He followed the sound of your voice down the hall and around the corner, finding the stairs to the attic pulled down, “its just me. What're you doing up there?”

“Hi my love,” your pretty face appeared and made him smile, “I'm just going through some boxes to find the Halloween Decorations! I know I have some from the years past-”

“It's not even September yet,” Eddie raised an eyebrow, amusement written all over his face. He was trying not to laugh, but it was all in good fun.

“Halloween is a year round tradition, Edward!” You beckoned for him to come up the stairs, “its not my fault that my year round decor just happens to be Halloween appropriate. Halloween is a lifestyle.”

“I thought it was a holiday?” He started to make the short climb, quickly standing up next to you. He gently took your face in his hands, beaming at you.

“It's a lifestyle,” you repeated, putting your hands on his forearms, smiling back at him, “hi.”

“Hi,” he leaned and kissed you softly, pulling away much sooner than you would have liked, but you knew you'd get plenty more later, “Halloween being a lifestyle choice makes sense considering your skull collection.”

“It is an impressive skull collection,” you mused before kissing him again. When he had first met you he was surprised to find that you collected all sorts of different replica skulls. You didn't give off the vibe immediately but he found that they did suit you, “wanna help me decorate, handsome?”

“For you? Anything,” he agreed, heart swelling at the pure joy on your face, “you want to decorate now? We'll decorate now.”

“And maybe go shopping for some new decorations?”

“Sure baby,” he promised, “you never decorated our old apartment much.”

“It was small,” you shrugged softly, “and that only felt like a home because of you. But this is our home now, one we worked hard for. And there's no one else I'd rather be here with. Now we have the freedom and ability to make it our own, however we want.”

“Yeah,” fondness colored his voice as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I love you, you know?”

“I love you,” you threw your arms around him and gave him a cuddly, tender embrace, “now, my love, will you help me bring the boxes downstairs?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed dramatically before immediately getting ready to bring everything down the ladder. You could have asked him for the moon and stars and would have gotten them for you, “I hope you know I'm only being nice because you made brownies.”

“I knew I made them for a reason,” you grinned at him, “you're not a hard sell, Eddie Munson.”

“You're lucky I love you!”

“I love you lots and lots,” you promised, moving the first box towards him so he could bring it down, “and then some!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I'm not sure about this,” Eddie frowned at the coffee currently nestled in your hand, eyebrows almost disappearing into his dark curls, “why do you want a drink that tastes like pumpkin?”

He was, meanwhile and as usual, holding a cup of hot, black coffee. You grinned and shrugged your shoulders before talking a long sip, “because it's delicious and the right amount of sweet and spicy. Besides, it doesn't taste like pumpkin, it's the spices. Try it.”

“What if I die?” He scoffed dramatically before taking the cup of your hand taking a tentative sip. You watched his face go through several emotions before he finally swallowed.

“It's good, huh?” You knew him well enough by now to know when he liked something. He mumbled something under his breath before handing the coffee back to you, “and you didn't die.”

“It's…acceptable,” he tried to play it off but you could see him struggle to hold his laugh back. He quickly grabbed it again and took another sip, “I wouldn't try it again.”

“Whatever,” you kissed his cheek before taking your coffee back and looping your arm through his, walking him in the direction of the home goods store you'd dragged him to. Not that he was really complaining - he loved Halloween too after all, “you don't have to admit I'm right.”

“You wish,” he rolled his eyes dramatically, eyes widening when he noticed all the Halloween items in the shop’s window display, “wow. That's so much Halloween…and it's still so early in the season.”

“That's how it is nowadays,” you shrugged, “but it's to my advantage!”

“What exactly is that you're looking for?”

You moved to step in front of him, looking ridiculously cute in your sweater and scarf and boots, all bundled up to stay warm, “we are looking for whatever speaks to us. You gotta feel it in your gut.”

He couldn't help but laugh as you reached for his hand and laced your fingers through his, “whatever you say, angel.”

“We don't have to do this,” you whispered softly, “if you don't want to, I don't want to make you do this, or to make you feel obligated-”

“I want to do this,” he promised, “I love spending time with you, whatever we do.”

“Me too,” you relaxed, smiling shyly at your boyfriend. You reached over and tucked a rogue curl that had escaped from his bun behind his ear, “c'mon on then! Oh - you get to pick what we do next. Wanna go to Guitar Center maybe?”

His eyes lit up as he nodded. He knew that you weren't a music nerd like him, but you always listened intently when he spoke about it, often getting very passionate. You always supported him and his music and he couldn't ask for more.

 “Hell yeah.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That afternoon you spent several hours walking around and looking for the perfect Halloween and fall decor for the house. It was, admittedly, a lot more fun than Eddie could have imagined.

Plus, the two of you had gone to Guitar Center afterwards. Which hadn't hurt. You always felt like you were lost when Eddie got really into talking about music, but you loved how passionate he was about music…everything really.

The only thing that was left to do was to get pumpkins for the front porch and maybe some pie. But that you wanted to do closer to actual Halloween so the pumpkins wouldn't rot. Although Eddie had insisted that would look metal as fuck. 

The two of you had decided to make it a date day and by the time the two of you were heading home it was later into the evening.  Eddie was driving your car, one hand on the wheel and the other one was holding yours.

Music was playing quietly as the two of you talked about anything and everything that crossed your mind. After a while, a content silence fell over the two of you as you stared out the window at the passing scenery.

“What're you thinking about, angel?” He quickly turned his head to look at you, his face illuminated by the passing street lights.

“Nothing,” you felt your cheeks warm up, and keep your eyes turned from his. he squeezed your hand and you knew better than to think he would leave it alone. That wasn't his style at all. You turned your head to face him, squinting your eyes before sighing, “Alright, its something. But it's silly and you're going to laugh.”

“I wouldn't laugh,” he insisted as you raised an eyebrow at him, “fine, I won't laugh unless it's very laugh worthy.”

“You're such an ass,” but you were laughing now, the sound full of adoration and affection, “I was just thinking about how much I love this.”

“This?”

“Us,” you watched a smile tug up the corners of his mouth, “I love being with you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he turned the street to your house, effortlessly pulling into the driveway and parking the car. You unbuckled your seat belt and turned to him, looking at him sweetly, “what? You're looking at me all funny.”

“I'm not looking at you funny,” you leaned over the center console and traced your fingers gently along his jaw, “I just really love you.”

“And…? I know there's something else you're not saying,” he took your chin in his hand and tilted your face up towards him, “out with it angel.”

“It's just that,” you bit your lip, sucking in a slow breath, “I can't wait to marry you one day. I mean. I know this is all real, that what we have is real. But I also can't wait to call you my husband one day. It's like an added little bonus.”

“Oh,” his pale cheeks turned bright pink as he tried to control his excitement. At first you were worried that he wasn't going to share the same sentiment but any worry that popped up quickly disappeared, “I can't wait for that either. I can't wait to call you my wife one day.”

“And you'll be my husband,” you whispered as he nodded eagerly, “you want to marry me too?”

“Of course I do,” he admitted shyly, “and I'm going to propose. You'll just have to wait and see when that is. It'll happen but you'll never know when.”

“Until it happens…”

“Until it happens,” he agreed. Eddie held out his hands and motioned for you to shuffle over the center console, “c'mere.”

“We're in the car!”

“Don't care,” he insisted, helping you over and onto his lap, “just wanna be close to you.”

“Even better,” you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close to your lips so you could kiss him. He sighed softly against your lips, his warm and sweet smell overwhelming you in the best ways possible, “I love you so much, Eddie. Thank you for always dealing with me and my shenanigans.”

“I've never dealing with you,” he nudged his nose against yours, “I love every bit of you. Plus I also enjoy all of your so called shenanigans. We just have…adventures. Silly ones, but good ones. and I happen to love Halloween as much as you. It's a win-win for me.”

“For both of us,” you pressed your forehead against his, “do you wanna go inside and put up some of the stuff we got?”

“Yes,” he agreed eagerly, “but I want to enjoy some more of you first.”

“What…oh,” you grinned, “I would very much like that.”

“Let's go then,” he opened the door and gently helped you out of the car, “no time to waste, m'lady.”

“You're such a dork!”

“So are you,” he countered, “but I love you regardless.”

“And I love you, Eddie."

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part ten

authors note: none

song inspo: “with me” by destiny’s child

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive themes, angst

words: 5.8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You’ve never been a person who was big on holidays. 

Never saw the massive appeal. Easter was annoying cause everyone and they mama showed up to church just to show off their kids silk press and frilly dresses. Halloween was too dark. Valentine’s Day was always a toss up, depending on where you and Amir were at the moment. And 4th of July….fuck America. 

But Christmas…..in recent years, it’s starting to become a holiday you really enjoy. You owe a lot of that to Callie and her pure joy and excitement at the "most wonderful time of the year," for gifts, yes, but she loved celebrating “baby Jesus” birthday just as much.

And you couldn't deny that your town was most beautiful this time of year. Stunningly decorated, there wasn’t a non-resident building in town that wasn’t dressed down in HGTV worthy Christmas decor. Walking through town really felt like walking on the set of a Hallmark Christmas movie. 

And the activities were endless, especially for kids. 

Hence your current whereabouts, sitting on a bench with your mom as Callie partakes with a group of other kids in a workshop with some of ‘Santa’s elves’. Your eyes land on her more often than not, knowing you live in a safe area but never wanting to take any chances. You also notice how talkative she is at the table she’s seated at with another little girl. You smile. Seeing her interact with other kids always makes you happy. Once she gets past her initial shyness, you definitely see sprinkles of your extroverted personality in her. 

Checking your phone from a text from Joe, you can’t avoid the pout when met with empty notifications. 

Your mom, forever perceptive, notices this. “When does he come in?”

“Tomorrow,” you answer, unable to contain the smile on your face. You’re not sure who’s more excited about Joe’s return: you or Callie. Probably her, but you’re not that far behind. 

And not even just for sexual reasons. Yes, that’s definitely up there, but also expected. Because one thing about sex with Joe: it’s addictive. 

Having him like that for the first time in years awakened things in you that you forgot existed. No one could make you come like he could, and he knew it, hence his smug disposition during sex. One thing you were starting to realize was that Joe fucked like Roman, but he made love like Joe, and it was a deadly combination. 

You woke up alone the morning after the date, but you knew that was the case because this man literally flew out for one night just to take you out. And dick you down. 

But Joe being Joe, left you a note, like something out of one of those corny but sweet, romantic indie movies. It was thoughtful, but he’s always been thoughtful. 

That shouldn’t have surprised you. 

Just like you shouldn’t have been surprised to be woken up by Callie jumping on your bed, happy to see you and wanting to catch you up on her fun sleepover with Alexis. Alexis, who made sure that the first thing that she checked was the nightstand where that Plan B absolutely was nowhere to be found. 

Used and discarded in your waste bin. That’s where it was. 

The smirk she sent your way, you just knew she was gonna have a million and one questions. And clearly waiting for Callie to not be present to have that conversation was too much waiting, hence your phone buzzing with texts while you watched Wish with Callie.

Alexis: You dirty whore! I wanna know everything.

You: What’s there to tell? You don’t see the box anymore, do you?

Alexis: Bitch, you know what I mean. It was good, wasn’t it?

You: Girl…..good ain’t the word for it. 😩 I’m so tired and sore right now. He wore my ass out. Had me up all night.

You: I stopped counting after 4.

Alexis: 😖 You have no idea how much I love this for you.

Alexis: I’m also gonna take a wild guess that since you took the plan b, ya’ll didn’t use protection? He came in you, didn’t he? 👀

You: Every.single.time.

Alexis: Oh, he down baddddd. 

Alexis: Shit, do I need to get you some pregnancy tests?

You: NO. It was just last night…..I may have to get on BC because that can’t be a regular thing.

Alexis: Well….don’t you want more kids anyway? 

You: We’re not even dating, and you want me to get knocked up by this man?

Alexis: Bitch, you already have one child. Give her a sibling. 

Alexis: And what do you mean you’re not dating? That is your man. Just own it. 

It was a fun exchange, as are most things with Alexis, and it brought up a valid point. Joe was gonna have to either wrap it up or you were going to need to get back on the pill. 

And you knew better than to tell her that this man literally asked you if you were on the pill and said good when you told him you weren’t. You haven’t given yourself time to process that….later date and time. 

But Joe’s definitely been the subject of several dreams that left you waking up feeling aroused. Hence you counting down the days until his return, yes for Callie, but also because you desperately need your insides rearranged in a way only he can fulfill. 

And you also just miss him. 

Plain and simple.  

“I take it things are going well between ya’ll.” Your mom gives you that all-knowing look that all moms possess. You roll your eyes, and she playfully nudges your shoulder. “I’m happy for you, sweetie. You deserve to be happy. You and Callie.”

“We’re just….I don’t know what we’re doing exactly, but….it is going well.” It seems a bit silly to not acknowledge that you and Joe are dating again, but until he confirms as such, you lean on the side of caution. Granted, you know he’s not fucking anyone else, and you damn sure aren’t either. You speak to each other as often as you can, and there’s seldom a conversation that occurs without one or both of you hinting at the mindblowing sex you’ll have once he returns.

Nope….not dating at all.

“Well, he’s divorced now, isn’t he?” You’d eventually caught your mom up on that important update, knowing that she would never really approve if his wife was still in the picture. She wouldn’t outright say anything, but her demeanor would be telling enough. 

“Yes, but—”

“And he’s obviously very interested in being with you. I don’t need to ask if you’re interested in being with him, and Callie would do well in a healthy two-parent household.”

At that, you stop walking, arm in front of your mom. “Mama….you did amazing raising me all on your own. I owe you so much that it’d be impossible for me to ever repay you.” And it’s the truth. Definitely age and becoming a single mother yourself showed you just how much your mom sacrificed to keep a roof over your head and food in your belly. Your mom truly is your hero.

She smiles warmly, placing her gloved hand over yours. “I appreciate that, baby. But, if you don’t have to struggle, why should you? Joseph seems keen on being in Callie’s life and yours as well. What’s holding you back?”

You chuckle at her final question. “That’s more or less the same thing Alexis said.” Only gone for a couple days, you're starting to miss her too. She's been a great source of support the past couple weeks.

“I always did like that girl. A bit on the wild side, but I like her.” Oh, if your mom knew the extent of what that wildness looked like. Not just for Alexis but yourself. You’re certain your mom would have a heart attack if she knew you were a regular at the strip club in college. So much so that the owner knew you by name and often propositioned you for a job.

You’d be lying if you tried to say you didn’t consider it from time to time. 

“Maybe it’s how we got together,” you guess aloud, sitting back against the bench. “I think I still have some guilt about doing that to his wife.” 

It’s a take you’ve found yourself thinking about more and more over the past couple weeks. She may be out of the picture now, but she wasn’t when you first started messing with Joe. She was still his wife the first time you let him take you to bed, and that’s left a stain on your conscience you’re not entirely sure how to rid yourself of.

“I understand that entirely.” Hearing the change in your mom’s tone has you wondering if it’s truly wise to have this conversation with her. Is it still a sensitive subject? “But it seems they divorced before you even came back in the picture. Do you know why they finally went their separate ways?”

Shaking your head, you inform, “no, and a part of me wants to ask, but when he told me about it, I could see it was difficult for him. He had this….sadness in his eyes. And I don’t think it was because of the divorce itself but….something else.” 

A part of you wants to ask him again, feels like it’s information you should know. But, another part of you doesn’t want to pry too much. If it’s a sensitive subject, you don’t want to reopen any open wounds. 

“Well, if this continues to progress, it may be a discussion that needs to happen. Even if it just gives you a peace of mind.” You know she’s right. It’s just not something you’re ecstatic about having to do. “And you probably should also start thinking about what changes you may have to make for this to continue to work.”

Confused, you ask, “what do you mean?”

“He can’t keep flying in and out sporadically just to see his child. Or you. That’s not fair to any of ya’ll and not sustainable. You’re gonna have to relocate to wherever he lives.”

That….that is not something you’ve thought about until this very moment. You know Joe bends over backwards to make these visits work, but it hadn't occurred to you how long this dynamic could continue. 

Your mom must see the wheels in your head turning, adding, “and think about Callie, once she finds out that’s her daddy, she’s gonna wanna be around him as much as possible. It could be easier if you’re a bit closer.”

You don’t know how true or untrue your mom’s take is, but it’s also another conversation that will have to happen between you and Joe. He’s always on the road in general. Will moving really do anything to help with his visits? Relocating is something you’ve never ever thought about. This is your home. You grew up here. Callie was growing up here. You always saw her growing up here.

But, that was also a version where Joe wasn’t in her life. Now he is. So, of course, some things would change.

You just didn’t imagine that is what would change.

Even if your mom’s guidance now has you wondering what it would be like to have a house together, the three of you, Callie, with an actual backyard she can run around in. Not just limited to the space of your apartment. 

“I’m gonna go say hi to Gloria.” She taps your leg, gesturing to her friend’s store. “I’ll be right back.”

Nodding, you sit there, focusing on Callie instead of the nuggets of wisdom your mom just dropped on you. 

“Long time no see, stranger.”

And just like that, you’re regretting ever agreeing to leave your place. You should have just done something at the apartment with Callie. Invited your mom over. Baked some cookies and shit. 

Crossing your arms, you refuse to look his way. “Amir, it’s the happiest time of the year. Please leave me alone, and let me stay in my happy place.”

“You’re still upset with me?” He seems genuinely surprised at this, like you cussing him out in front of your daughter’s preschool wasn’t a good indicator of how upset you were. “Gotta let that shit go.”

“I don’t have to do anything but live, be black, and love my child.” Scooting to your edge of the bench, you tell him again. “Now go away.”

“We clearly need to talk this out—”

“No, we don’t need to do anything because there is no we.” You catch Callie’s eyes and remind yourself that you don’t need a part two of the last time. “I told you before. That’s done and over with. In all areas. You’ll never see my name pop up on your phone ever again.”

And that’s a promise.

“You’re so fuckin’ dramatic.” He’s growing annoyed. If only you cared. “Stop playing. What you doing tomorrow?”

“Sitting on my man’s face.”

Your answer seems to take him back. “He still around?” You don’t say anything. “You’re not stupid enough to be fucking him again, are you?”

“Amir, the only reason I was ever fucking you was because he wasn’t around, but he’s here now, and he’s not going anywhere. And without hurting your feelings before Christmas, I can promise you, dick is not something I will ever want or need from anyone else ever again.”

He scoffs, just looking at you with disgust. “Mariah was right. That nigga really does have you acting different.”

At that, your head snaps in his direction. “What did you just say?” Instantly, you see it. The regret in his face in realizing he’s fucked up. “Why were you talking to Mariah?” Your best friend couldn’t take your calls or texts, but she had time to fill your ex in on your private life? “When?”

He looks off, trying to hide the guilty expression you’ve already clocked. “We ran into each other at the store the other day.”

Lie.

Scoffing, you lean back against the bench. And you laugh. All you can do is laugh because never in a million years would you have put these pieces together, but it makes so much sense. 

“Yeah, you can get the fuck away from me. Now.” Seeing him about to open his mouth again, you decide to separate yourself. “Fine. I’ll leave.” 

And you do just that, moving to another available bench where you can still keep a close eye on Callie. It seems they’re nearing the end of the activity. One glance over to your previous seat, you see that Amir is gone. 

Good. 

Pulling out your phone, you send a simple text. 

You: If you were too busy riding Amir’s average dick to message me back, you could have just said so.

There’s barely any time for you to slide your phone back into your purse when it beeps.

Mariah: ??????

It actually takes a lot in you not to call and cuss her out right then and there. You’ve been trying to get in contact with her for weeks and the minute you send her that, she remembers how to reply?

“Mommy!”

You’re grateful for Callie’s distraction. Smile on your face, you see she’s approached you with not only the little girl at her table but a man also wearing a friendly expression.

“This is my new friend! Her name is Taylor!” Taylor appears to be the same or around the same age as Callie, box braids styled into two space buns, and she and Callie share giggles like they’ve been friends for years. In a weird sort of way, she reminds you a lot of Callie. 

“It seems the girls have connected,” the man speaks with a chuckle. He offers his hand. “I’m Darius. Taylor’s dad.”

Your phone goes off and you quickly glance, hoping it’s Joe.

Mariah: Can we talk?

Instantly, you reorient yourself to the conversation at hand. 

“It appears they have,” you agree, offering your name and asking, “are you from around here?”

“Naw. Just visiting some family. Me and my wife.” He looks around. “She should be somewhere around here. Her parents only live about an hour out, so they came to meet us.”

“Oh, cool.” Glancing at the girls, you recognize that plotting look on Callie’s face and wait patiently. Coyly, you share with Darius, “I believe a request is coming.”

“Oh, most definitely.” 

Sure enough, Callie is holding onto your leg, face peering up at you. “Mommy, can we see the fireworks tomorrow?” That’s certainly not what you expected to hear her ask. Callie has never been too big on fireworks. When she was younger, you’d have to lay in bed with her and soothe her to sleep because they made her nervous. Now she wants to go to an actual show? “Taylor is going too, right Taylor?”

Taylor nods happily. “And my mommy and grandma and grandpa.”

It's like the mentioning of additional parties triggers something for her, Callie offering suddenly, “Joe can come too!” 

That gives you a pause. Joe’s never gone out in public with the two of you, outside of the hospital, but that doesn’t necessarily count. It was an emergency, not happy hour.

There’s a bit of anxiety, even though you know your town is the perfect place to do so. You’d put your head on the chopping board that less than five people would actually approach him, asking for autographs and such. They might recognize him, but they’d never approach. 

It’ll also be the first time Callie can refer to him as her father instead of just Joe.

Finally deciding, you answer, “if you want to, baby.” 

You and Darius share a laugh as the girls rejoice together. He pulls out his phone and offers, “why don’t I give you my wife’s number? You two can communicate regarding the meetup and whatnot.”

“Yeah, of course.” Exchanging information, you program Bianca Johnson into your phone, sending her a text after Darius says he’s already messaged her regarding Taylors new best friend. 

It’s in programming the number though that you see an incoming call from Mariah. It’s an immediate decline. 

Mariah: Would you pick up the damn phone, please?

Navigating to her thread, you put her on mute. It’s almost Christmas. You refuse to allow her or anyone else to ruing this for you or Callie. 

________

Personally, you believe that there should be a mandatory set time for Children to wake up on Christmas. Preferably, any time after 10am. 12pm would be even better but highly unlikely given most kids go to bed extra early on Christmas Eve. Callie is no different. You and Joe get her down by 6:30pm which should have given you ample time to bake cookies, finish wrapping her gifts, the whole nine yards.

If only you two had a better sense of self-control, because the minute you were confident Callie was out for the night, he had you bent over the kitchen island. And that was….that was fine, because you’d been thinking about him being inside you from the moment he stepped foot in your place. Hell, from the moment he left. 

But then you somehow ended up riding him on the living room floor, his back propped up against the sofa as you bounced on his dick, surrounded by the toys you should have been wrapping for your daughter. And while you eventually did get the gifts wrapped and cookies baked, you weren’t even able to change from out of your towel and into pajamas when this man propped you on your bathroom counter, spread your legs, and ate you out like he’d been fasting for 40 days and 40 nights. 

It wasn’t entirely surprising. Joe’s always had a big appetite for sex, for you. Not that you were any better. And the fact of the matter was that having a kid meant you had to take advantage of the little free time you had, which you clearly did. 

But it was now coming to bite you in the ass, because it’s goddamn 9 o’clock in the morning, and Callie is jumping up and down on your bed when all you want to do is sleep for another ten hours.

“Mommy! Joe! Santa came!”

It’s nearly impossible to hold in your groan, so you suppress it by turning over and pressing yourself into Joe. Of course, he’s already got his arm around you, holding you against his body. He’s also still knocked out. 

Finding the strength, you shove on his chest. “Wake up.” It’s a bit incoherent, sleep still heavy in you and hindering your speech. Blinking your eyes open to allow the sun shining from the open curtains (courtesy of Callie) to motivate you to get your ass up, you punch him in his stomach. “Joe.”

He grunts, and you smile. “She’s up.” 

Pleased with the fulfillment of her alarm clock duties, she jumps off the bed, yelling, “come on!”

At that, you sit up from the mattress, scolding her, “Calista Manaia Anoa’i, you got one more time to jump off this bed, sis!” Looking back to see Joe still trying to wake up, you shove him again. “You better get your daughter before she gets punished on Christmas.”

This helps to stir him as he lays on his back, hand on his forehead. “Leave her alone.” It takes a minute for you to refocus. His voice in general is sexy as hell, but that morning voice is something dangerous. 

“Her ass is always trying to jump on and off shit.” Kicking off the blankets, you stretch and make your way into the bathroom to do your hygiene routine. Joe is not too far behind, coming in a few minutes later, slapping your ass as you’re bent over the sink spitting out your toothpaste. “Behave,” you warn. The two of you share the sink and counter space to get ready with you finishing first. 

Back in the room, you make up the bed and check your phone, sending out a few, quick Merry Christmas texts, Bianca included. Even though you’ve only texted since yesterday, she seems pretty chill and you have a couple of things in common, kids around the same age, both working as teachers. It’s just unfortunate that she lives further down South. You’re not sure how you’re gonna break that to Callie, but that’s a task for another day. 

Today is an exciting, happy occasion, and you’re not gonna let anything or anyone ruin it. 

Joe is suddenly behind you, arms around your waist and mouth on the side of your neck. 

“Merry Christmas, baby” he murmurs, pressing kisses against your skin. 

Chewing down on your bottom lip, you turn around and lean up to kiss him. “Merry Christmas.” Hands on his chest, you ask, “You ready?”

He looks at you, clearly thinking about what you’re asking. This is what he’d been building up to, but you’re certain there’s some level of anxiety. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” he finally answers. You’re not certain if he’s speaking more to you or himself. 

“She’s gonna be happy, Joe. I promise.” Stealing one more kiss, you take his hand. “Come on. She’s gonna start getting impa—”

“Come on!” She shouts from the living room, and you give him a look. 

“That’s your child.” His chuckle follows you out of the bedroom and into the living room where Callie is literally bouncing on the heels of her feet near the Christmas tree. You’re not entirely certain, but you could have sworn there weren’t as many gifts there when you left for your shower and eventually bed. 

“It’s Christmas!” Running over to Joe who swoops her up and kisses her cheek as she tells him Merry Christmas, you patiently wait for your turn, giving her a kiss and hug too before she’s pulling the both of you over to the tree. 

Using your phone, you snap photos and record intermittent videos of her opening her gifts. And in doing so, you’re certain Joe added a couple more when you were in the shower. He’s definitely that dad who doesn’t see an issue with spoiling the shit out of his kid. And as long as Callie remains kind and respectful, you won’t stop him. He’ll definitely hear about it tonight, but you won’t actually interfere.

Alexa playing Christmas songs in the background helps to set the tone as well. Mostly Mariah Carey because it’s literal law that one must listen to All I Want for Christmas is You on Christmas day. Really, starting the day after Halloween. 

You don’t make the rules. 

Literal fucking law. 

Callie suddenly pulls a gift, small and rectangular shaped, that you definitely don’t remember wrapping. “Mommy, it’s for you!” Thinking it’s something she made for you, you put your phone down and take it only to recognize that the writing is clearly too nice to be written by a child, not to mention that it has your name instead of mommy. 

Your eyes land on him. “Joe….what is this?”

“Open it,” he encourages, waiting patiently.

Still in somewhat belief he would actually get you something, you rip off the packaging and gasp. You almost drop it reading the brand name written in gold calligraphy. “Chanel? Thee Chanel?”

“Who’s Chanel, mommy?” 

“It’s a brand, baby,” you answer, distracted because you’re still stuck on the fact that you’re actually holding in your hand something that had to cost at least a thousand dollars. If not a couple thousand. 

“Open it, mommy,” Callie presses. This girl is both nosy but also loves to see people receive gifts. 

And so, you open it, gasping louder this time.

“Joe…..” It’s absolutely stunning, the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen. Gold. An intricately decorated ‘C’ pendant with a diamond in the middle. C for Chanel for most people. C for your heartbeat for you. “It’s beautiful….” 

He moves over to you, helping to remove it from the box. As your hair is already up in a messy bun, he has no difficulty placing it around you, as Callie exclaims happily, “it’s a C!.”

“C for Callie,” you answer her, cupping her cheek before turning to Joe. “Thank you…..” Pulling him in for a hug, there’s something so emotional about this moment, something pure. You’ve never felt so cared for by anyone.

Never felt so loved. 

He kisses your temple. “You never have to thank me for anything I do for you.” 

Hating the fact that tears are brimming your eyes, you punch his shoulder, needing to not be so emotional. “You should have told me you got me something. Now I feel bad because I didn’t get you anything.” 

Thumb caressing your cheek, he answers, softly. “You already did.” Confused, his eyes discreetly focus on Callie who’s back trying to figure out which toy she wants to play with first.

That….that does something to you. 

You look at him, ready to say something, when you see it. See it in his eyes. A deep level of appreciation that indicates a story, a reason as to why this means the world to him. There’s something there. Something more he’s not saying, but you know it’s neither the time nor the place. 

Now….now is the time for something else. 

“Baby.” It’s surprisingly easy to catch Callie’s attention, so you pat the space in between the two of you. “Come here. We need to talk to you about something.” 

Wordlessly, she plops right between ya’ll with that naturally inquisitive expression. 

“Callie….” Joe feeling a bit nervous made sense to you, and you expected as such. But you never thought about your own trepidation in this moment. It’s difficult, but you do your best to push it away. “Do you….do you remember when you asked me about your dad?” She nods. “And why…..why you didn’t have one?”

She nods again, Joe this time grabbing her attention. “Callie, do you know why I came back in your mom’s life?”

She thinks about his question, answering tentatively, “because you missed mommy?”

He chuckles. “That’s true. I did miss her. A lot.” You try not to think too much about his words, to not make this moment about you or you and him. It’s about Callie. “But, I mostly came back because I wanted to meet you.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?”

He nods, “Calista, you are the sweetest, kindest, and smartest kid that I have ever met. And I love every second that I get to spend with you.” Joe brings his hand to gently palm her face. “And I especially love being your dad.” 

You’re not quite sure if you’re breathing or even fully present in the few seconds it takes for Callie to process what he’s just said. But then, you see it, a smile that could light up times square. “Really?” She snaps her head in your direction, looking for confirmation. “Mommy, is Joe really my daddy?”

Sniffling, you wipe at your eyes. Damn feelings. You’ve been way too emotional lately. “He sure is, baby.” 

Squealing, she literally throws herself against him, hugging him tightly. “It’s the best Christmas ever!”

“I love you, Callie.” Joe shuts his eyes, taking in this moment, kissing the top of her head. “And I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you too, daddy!” If you could capture this moment, capture those words leaving her mouth, forever keep them as a keepsake to be preserved for all time, you would. Because it’s everything you’ve ever wanted for her. To know she’s wanted and loved by both her parents. And finally, that moment is no longer a hope but a reality. 

“Wait!” She suddenly pulls away, grabbing the picture she’d drawn for Joe and given to him as a Christmas gift. “I’ll be back!”

He looks over at you. “What is she—” 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you answer with a murmur, still partially overcome with emotion. 

However, Callie is back in a matter of minutes with that beautiful smile on her face. Flipping it over, she exclaims, “I fixed it.” 

Your eyes immediately land on what she “fixed,” and your heart swells. She’s crossed out Joe’s name with a black marker and instead written above it “daddy.”

“I love it.” His voice is thick with emotion, and you move closer to him, laying against his side. Wanting to be with him in this precious moment. 

Callie wasn’t lying.

This truly is the best Christmas. 

________

“Come on! We’re gonna be late!” 

Callie’s animated voice somehow travels to you and Joe despite all of the hustle and bustle occurring around you, the sea of bodies waiting for the fireworks show to begin. There’s not much distance between the two of you and her, enough for Joe to grab her if need be. 

You walk close with him, you hands locked around his bicep.

His discomfort is obvious, so you assure, “relax. You’re not the tribal chief around here.” He glances at you. “They may notice you, but they’ll leave you alone. Especially since it’s Christmas.”

This seems to relieve him as she explains, “tonight is about her. I just don’t want to take away from that.”

“And you won’t, I promise. Just….just be present in this moment.” He takes your hand in his, giving a gentle squeeze. Continuing to walk with him, your eyes land on Taylor, Darius, and a woman who, even from a distance, looks vaguely familiar. 

“Taylor!” 

Callie rushes over to her new best friend, and the two embrace. You almost wish you had your phone out to take a picture. The woman wears a friendly smile, but instantly, something feels off. She approaches you, asking, “Y/N?”

Nodding, you’re shocked when she pulls you in for a hug and then apologizes. “I'm sorry. I’m a hugger, and I just feel like I know you already.” 

Callie takes this moment to jump back in the conversation, rushing over to Joe and introducing, “this is my daddy!”

That settles some of your anxiety. You’re not certain you’ll ever get tired of hearing her refer to him as such, and you know he won’t either.

“Man, uhh, hi, nice–nice to meet you.” Immediately, you know that Darius most definitely recognizes Joe. “Big fan.”

“Thanks, man.” Joe, understandably, keeps it simple, and you clear your throat. 

“Thank you for arranging this with us. Callie seems to really like Taylor.”

“Taylor too,” Bianca expresses with a smile, as you realize she also has dimples. It’s a little thing, stupid, but as much as you try, you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. “I swear, you would think they’ve known each other for years.”

Joe chuckles. “They’ve hit it off pretty well.”

“I’m sorry.” You hate being so off-putting and direct, especially given all of your text exchanges with this woman have gone so well, but you have to ask, “have we m—-”

“Bianca!”

A woman’s voice calls out, interrupting your conversation. 

She looks past you and smiles, waving whoever it is over. “My parents,” she informs. “Over here!”

Callie and Taylor are immersed in a conversation, as you make eye-contact with Joe who gives you that ‘what’s wrong?’ expression. Answering truthfully, you shrug and murmur, “I don’t know.”

The presence of Taylor’s grandparents snatches her attention from Callie. “Grandpa!”

Turning around, you manage a small, inauthentic smile to introduce yourself when you see it. And everything is suddenly ten ways wrong. 

There’s a brief second where you question yourself, question your vision, question your entire existence. But as he smiles, holding and kissing his grandchild on the cheek, you just know, know that you’re not wrong.

“Dad,” Bianca speaks, but you’re someplace else, someplace much different. “This is Y/N and…..”

She’s talking, but you’ve completely dissociated. You can’t say anything, paralyzed with shock and an overwhelming feeling of heartache. 

That’s why she looked so familiar. You saw her that day at the precinct, coming into his office to inform him of her sibling’s misbehavior. This is his daughter.

This is your sister. 

The daughter he picked over you. 

And this is your father. 

You’re going to be sick.

Partially aware of Joe’s suddenly cautious gaze on you, you place one hand over your stomach. “Excuse….excuse me….I—” You feel like you’re going to pass out, like four walls surround and are gradually closing in on you. Your throat is about to close up. “I have to go.” And you run, you run as far as your legs can take you, away from that situation, away from that visceral blast from the past, away from the overwhelming emotions that are threatening to overcome you. 

And you don’t stop.

[astarioffsimpmain]

Halloween with Halsin

Halsin x F!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy (not accidental)

Synopsis: You and Halsin oversee the now adopted children from Baldur's Gate as they carve gourd lanterns in preparation for Liar's Night

Author's Note: Happy Half-o-ween part 2! 🎃

Little faces lit up with joy and recognition as you and Halsin wheeled the cart of gourds up to the clearing. "We're celebrating Liar's Night!" A young tiefling boy cried out, jumping up and down in his place. 

"We are!" You replied, and laughed as a myriad of cheers and whoops broke out in response. "Daddy Halsin and I thought you all might want to carve your own gourd lanterns this year, but remember to save those gooey insides and put them in your bucket. We're baking pumpkin bread with it in a few days." Your smile only grew, watching the children gather around to pick out their pumpkins, sharing and swapping much more graciously than many adults you knew.  You sighed and allowed your eyes to fall closed in contentment when you felt your lover's arms encircle you in his warmth. 

"You do so well with them, my heart." He murmured, his lips tickling the crown of your head.

"They make that easy." You replied, then twisted in his arms to allow your own lips access to his cheek, his neck, and his shoulder. You dropped chaste but tender kisses on his sweat-dampened skin before tucking your nose into the crook of his neck. "You make it even easier." He chuckled in your ear and tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. 

"As do you, sweet one. As do you." 

"Daddy Halsin, this one has an ouchie." A young human girl toddled over with a small pumpkin that sported a heavy bruising on one side. The Druid released you with a smile and a wink and bent down to the little girl, taking the gourd and inspecting the aforementioned injury. 

"It seems that it does, little one. Everything in nature will be marked up over time, but that does not mean it is worthless. Let's carve the face right here across this bruise and make it unique and beautiful. Yes?" The little girl nodded, a small smile on her lips, and reached up to drag her little fingers over the scars on Halsin's face before running back to join the other children. 

"She would make a remarkable druid." You noted with a twinkle in your eye as Halsin returned to you. 

"She would. And should she choose to walk that path, I would be honored to guide her." He replied, his eyes soft and warm, trained on the children of every race that you and he had chosen to raise. You gazed around the former Shadow-cursed land with an insurmountable pride in your chest. When you and your lover had departed Baldur's Gate, you had taken with you not only the many orphaned children left from the dearth and tyranny, but the homeless adults as well. You had traveled back to the place Thaniel and Oliver called home, and made a place there for them all. 

And because of Halsin, along with the great help of Jaheira and her Harpers, they had flourished into a thriving and beautiful community. Adults had adopted and taken in children, and no one lived without food or a place to sleep when the rain inevitably fell. This extended to you and Halsin, who lived in a small cottage overlooking the field of vegetables and fruits Halsin grew and, with your help, harvested and used in dishes for anyone who wanted them. Your house was a popular destination for all, adults and children alike, and you had grown used to hosting people from the village many a night each week. 

You had been brimming with excitement for this moment for months. You were the one who had convinced Halsin to celebrate Liar's Night. It was one of the fondest memories you carried from living in Baldur's Gate, and these children having been from there, you knew would recognize it. It was when you reasoned that the children most likely had never been able to participate due to their inability to purchase the supplies for a protective gourd lantern - let alone have a home to protect - that Halsin had relented. "I truly find myself unable to say no to you, my heart." He had raked a hand down his face, but you knew he would enjoy the experience once the time came. 

You were pleased to see how right you were as the large Druid began a self-imposed patrol through the sea of children and their carving work, pausing to help any child that requested it. You chuckled and did the same for the other half, working together until each child held an empty pumpkin with a face carved into the side. "Remember to have your parents or older siblings light the candles!" You called as little legs carried each one of them back to the warmth of their homes. Once you and Halsin had gathered all the buckets containing pumpkin seeds and fillings and pooled them into a sealed container to save for later, the Druid took your small hand in his much larger one and led you back home. 

"You beautiful, wonderful woman." He was muttering lowly in your ear the moment the cottage door closed behind you. His hands found purchase on your hips and he nuzzled into you, breathing in your scent as he explored your form with his palms. 

"I told you that you would enjoy it." You giggled as he glided the tips of his fingers up your spine, causing you to arch up into him. 

"That you did, my heart, and you were right, as you so often are. I love you so deeply that Silvanus himself must feel it beat through my aching heart. He must know by now that half of my prayers are to him and half of them are to you. I have never felt an ardor so great in my 365 years of life." 

"Halsin, I hope you know by now that I feel much the same way, and while I cannot possibly contend with your declarations of poetry, I can give you this." You said softly, taking his hand into your own once again and pressing it to your abdomen. 

His eyes lit up in hopeful recognition, disbelief coloring his handsome features. "My heart, do you mean-?" He paused, as if he was too afraid to voice it aloud. 

"You're to be a father, Halsin." You smiled, your eyes misting over with tears full of adoration for the man that had become your life partner. And you laughed; a beautiful, breathless thing, as you watched tears cloud his eyes to mirror your own. 

"By Silvanus's blessing, I could have asked for no better news!" He boomed, lifting you into his arms to swing you around. Your joined laughter and elation filled the little cottage as the two of you rediscovered one another again and again, falling in love as though it were the first time. 

A blessed Leaffall, indeed. 

fin

Tagging Darlings: @knightofmight01

[flowerandblood]

Stay and love, leave and die

Halloween Request Oneshots Series

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Strong! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, noncon, virginity loss, smut, angst, choking, violence, threats, kidnapping, obsession ]

[ description: After the death of her grandfather, the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Harwin Strong travels to Storm's End to remind Borros Baratheon of his fathers oath to her mother he had made years ago. There she meets her uncle, whom she has not seen since a certain terrible event that took place between him and her brother. Her uncle decides to take his payment for what happened to him. Aggressive, obsessive, very dark! Aemond.]

This oneshot is inspired by anon request and is created with Halloween in mind, so unlike what I usually write, these fisc will be very dark and uncomfortable. Keep this in mind before you start reading.

Today marks one year since Ewan Mitchell played the role of Aemond Targaryen. I want to celebrate with this messed up Halloween oneshot! Love you my Aemond girlies 🎃🎃🎃

Alternative Universe Series: The Fall from the Heavens

*English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy!*

My others works: Masterlist

____

She didn't remember much about the night her uncle lost his eye; at the time she was too young to understand what had really happened. When she came down into the great hall in only her nightgown and saw the maester bending over her uncle she squealed loudly, covering her mouth with her hand, terrified and distraught, bursting into tears.

She and Aemond were betrothed through the King's decision.

Her grandfather believed that a union between them would ensure that the kingdom would not fall apart after his death.

Her uncle did not speak to her much before their betrothal because she was a girl and her her feminine concerns did not arouse his interest. However, sometimes when she met him in the library, he would read aloud to her and she would listen to him with interest.

They would then exchange thoughts about their lineage, and even though it was purely childish, naive musings, they both felt like adults then.

She was really fond of him.

He was calm, polite and didn't mock her like Jace and Aegon, who said that when she frowned her eyebrows and pressed her lips together she looked like a hamster.

It turned out that their grandfather's decision, instead of confusing and intimidating them, brought them closer together. Her uncle was a man who understood perfectly what duty was and considered it his task and responsibility to prove himself as a husband according to his father's will.

He began to introduce her to his world full of weapons and trainings filled with effort, his beloved books on philosophy and history.

She knew that it gave him great satisfaction when she borrowed thick volumes from his private collection, which his mother had presented to him, pleased that she was able to discuss with him more and more boldly and confidently on subjects that interested him.

He embarrassed her when one day he asked her hesitantly if she could spend the night by his side. From what she understood he did not sleep well, although he did not want to say for whatever reason. He found that her presence reassured him, and since she was to be his wife, her place was with him.

She couldn't hide the heat and joy that spread through her heart at the thought that he craved to feel her by his side.

From then on, she would sneak out to his chamber at night, slipping under his bedding, falling asleep beside him pressing her forehead against his, holding his hand in hers. He never tried to touch her in an indecent way, never ordered her to expose her body, instead allowing her to place innocent, warm, childlike kisses on his lips whenever she desired.

If it hadn't been for the darkness around them she would have noticed that his cheeks were rosy with shame and contentment, that he was smiling lazily as he lay there with his eyes closed.

From then on, he slept peacefully.

Then, however, her younger brother deprived him of one eye when he dared to tame Vhagar, and her mother, despite promises that she would be able to visit him, allowed it only after a few days, hiding behind the fact that her half-brother should rest. However, when she appeared at the door of his chamber full of hope, Criston Cole sent her away and she never saw him again.

She sent him letters for eight years, one every two months, but he never wrote her back.

When king Viserys died her mother decided that she would fly to Storm's End to remind Lord Baratheon of his fathers oath, while Jace was to fly to Winterfell and Luke to the Eyrie.

All things considered, however, she did not foresee one thing.

Vhagar.

When she saw her in the middle of the storm, raising her head towards her like a great moving mountain, she felt fear.

She had not seen him since that day.

She did not fly to King's Landing when Luke fought for his rights to Driftmark because her mother and the Queen thought it would only make things worse, and her uncle did not want to see her.

For a moment she hesitated in spirit, standing in the rain, whether to turn back, terrified at the thought that he was there. She recognised, however, that her mother had entrusted her with this mission believing that she would fulfil the task and she had to fight for her rights.

Therefore, she gathered her courage and approached the guards, informing them of who she was. They led her into a large circular throne room, lit up once in a while by an intense flash of lightning and the torches all around her.

That's when she saw him.

He stood in a leather cloak with sword and dagger at his side, speaking to one of Lord Baratheon's daughters, but when he heard the guards announce who had arrived he looked towards her, turning on his heel, holding his hands entwined behind his back.

His lips twitched in a mocking, menacing grin that sent shivers through her, his pupil narrowed like those of a cat that had just seen a mouse.

"My Lady Strong." He said teasingly, coldly, lightly, and she swallowed loudly, recognising that she had not come all this way to tease.

She was shivering with cold and fear and wanted to convey what she had to say as quickly as possible.

"Queen Rhaenyra wishes to remind you of the oath your father, Lord Baratheon, made to her years ago." She said softly and clearly, looking up at the distressed lord sitting before her on the stone throne.

"Prince Aemond has offered to take one of my daughters as his wife. Which of my daughters will one of your brothers marry to win my favour?" He asked her in a dry, raised voice, frustrated by her presence and what she was demanding of him.

She swallowed loudly, looking at her uncle in shock, seeing him watching her with satisfaction, his chin raised in a gesture of victory, the corner of his mouth still twitching in a smile.

He was proud of himself.

"Forgive me, my Lord, both my brothers who are of the proper age for marriage are already betrothed." She muttered, and Lord Baratheon laughed aloud, spreading his arms to his sides.

"So you come with empty hands. Go home, pup. Tell your mother she won't summon me when she wishes like some dog." He growled.

She swallowed the insult with difficulty, nodding, feeling her head humming, her heart pounding like mad, her uncle's gaze piercing her to the core.

"I will pass on your words to the Queen, my Lord." She said, forcing herself to be calm and bowed, turning away tense and walking out quickly, wanting to be back in Dragonstone as soon as possible.

She stepped out into the courtyard into the intense rain pouring down from the sky, loud thunder all around her, her whole body trembling from fear.

"Wait, my Lady Strong." She heard a cold, mocking voice behind her and squealed softly as she felt someone's strong, large hand clench painfully tight on her arm.

"Won't you greet your uncle? Don't you want to see at last my memento after meeting your brother?" He hissed, pulling his eye patch from his face with his free hand in one sharp, firm, agressive motion.

She drew in a loud breath when she saw polished sapphire shining ominously in his eye socket.

She stared at the sight simultaneously horrified and enthralled, there was something in his face, in his gaze, in the way he clenched his jaw, that she was unable to look away from him.

"− please −" She mumbled, trying to pull herself out of his arms, but he embraced her, pressing her close. She put her hands on his rain-wet leather coat and tried to push him away, but he only chuckled lowly at her helpless efforts, locking her in his grasp.

"− I see you've changed too − you even look like a woman now − maybe I should take you away and enjoy you after so many years of separation − didn't you miss me? −" He asked in a humiliating, sweet, mocking voice, leaning over her like a child so as to look into her frightened eyes, in which tears of terror had gathered.

She was afraid of the way he looked at her.

"− please, uncle, I just want to go home −" She whispered pleadingly and took his cold face in her hands, wanting to alleviate the situation somehow, to give it some affectionate gesture that would help him calm down.

Something changed in his gaze, he shuddered and licked his lower lip, looking at her with his head tilted, his grip not easing one bit, their hair, faces and clothes wet from the intense rain.

"− no −" He hissed and grabbed her in half, throwing her over his shoulder, she began to squeal and scream, slapping his back with her hands, her dragoness writhed ominously at the sight, ready to breathe fire.

He summoned Vhagar, who rose suddenly on her paws, the ground shook beneath her and her little dragoness scowled in fear, as terrified as she was.

"− please, don't hurt her! −" She cried to him and stopped struggling, knowing that Vhagar's teeth clamped down on her dragoness would tear her apart. "− please, I'll fly with you, I will do anything −"

"− hm −" He murmured under his breath, placing her on the ground right next to the ropes hanging from his saddle. He looked at her with an indifferent, cool gaze, his lips pressed into a thin line. "− up −"

She cried all the way, snuggling into the front of his saddle, feeling his body clinging to hers behind her, his face pressed against her neck.

"− I will make you my mistress − you will bear me bastards after I marry any of that fool's daughters − bastards are perfect for bearing other bastards, aren't they? −" He whispered in her ear, placing wet, sticky kisses on the skin of her neck, and she tried with difficulty to catch her breath, almost choking from her sobs.

She prayed for her mother to save her.

He dragged her by her arm, holding her painfully tight, towards his chamber, heedless of the surprised stares of the guards.

It was the middle of the night and he had commanded that no one was to disturb them.

He pushed her into his chambers and she fell to the stone floor, panting heavily, shaking all over, feeling like she was about to vomit from fear, tears and rain drops running down her cheeks. She could hear him breathing loudly with excitement and exertion, pulling off his coat, tossing it disorderly on the floor.

She was breathing hard, looking at him in horror, wondering what she was supposed to do, how she was supposed to fight him.

Suddenly, this one thought, this one attempt, seeing him begin to walk towards her with a menacing, final step that said it all came out of her mouth.

"I've written letters to you. For eight years, every two months. You never wrote back to any of them. Why?" She asked in a trembling, broken voice, feeling how tight her throat was with fear, how much her hands were quivering.

He stopped in mid-step, furrowing his brow, his face impassive, tense, cold.

"Liar." He hissed as he knelt over her, grabbing her by her neck, pressing her to the ground in a one, brutal motion, his free hand quickly found the dagger hidden under her cloak and tossed it aside with a loud clang of steel.

She figured that the more she resisted, the more pain he would cause her.

"I'm not lying. Ask your grandfather. I suspect he didn't even pass them on to you, did he?" She mumbled with difficulty, his fingers clenching on her neck so tightly that she had trouble breathing.

However, she noticed a kind of hesitation and uncertainty on his face, his nostrils quivering in a ragged breath.

"And what did you write in them, my Lady Strong?" He asked teasingly, his free hand sliding down to the tying of his breeches, his wide-eyed gaze directed at her, mad, implacable, cruel.

She licked her lips, feeling his fingers cold and wet from the rain clenching on her hot skin, tried not to think about the sound of the material slipping away, only what she had wanted to say to him for years.

"That I was too young to understand what happened then. That it wasn't until years later that I realised you had been deprived of more than an eye that night. That I can't sleep. That something in me died that day." She whispered with difficulty, tears of grief, fear and horror running down the sides of her face onto the stone floor he pressed her against.

She saw that he had stopped in mid-motion, breathing loudly, his lips pressed together, as if he was thinking hard about something.

"I will not give you back to your mother-whore. I will keep you as my payment for the harm she has done to me." He said coolly, furrowing his brow, looking at her as if he was explaining to her that it was the only reasonable thing to do.

Her heart pounded like crazy as she thought what she was doing was working.

That it wasn't rape per se that was his goal, but the appropriation of something precious that belonged to her mother, so that he could have a sense of atonement.

She nodded, trying to calm herself, wanting him to remain calm too.

"Very well." She whispered quietly, something in his face changed, a sort of surprise passed across his eye. He let out a loud sigh, as if he expected that only when he took her by force would she agree.

"For years I have suffered with the thought of that day. I will compensate you as best I can." She mumbled softly, a final, solitary tear running down her face.

She tried with all her might to think of that boy she loved so dearly and not the monstrous man who had just looked at her.

"Hm." He hummed again, letting her go, rising from his lap, his watchful gaze directed straight at her.

She grabbed her neck, drawing in air loudly, turning onto her stomach, quivering all over.

She heard the clang of steel and the sound of a loud filling. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, breathing hard, and noticed that he had poured himself some wine.

He moved slowly towards the chair opposite her and sat down with a loud creak of wood, arranging himself comfortably, crossing his legs.

"I await my compensation." He said lightly, as if amused, taking a loud sip from his cup, his healthy eye staring at her wide-eyed with a sharp, expectant gaze, his lips stretched in a lazy, dangerous grin.

She swallowed loudly, standing up slowly, feeling her legs refuse to obey her, thinking strenuously what she should do.

"No man would want me for a wife after this." She sobbed out with difficulty, looking at him horrified, and he chuckled under his breath, cocking his head to the side.

"If you please me enough, I will take you as my wife in the tradition of Old Valyria, and our children will be my official heirs." He said dryly, and she felt her heart begin to pound like mad, she shook her head as if she did not believe what he was saying.

"− your grandfather − your future wife − they would never −"

"− I don't give a shit about them − only my word counts in this matter − do you understand? −" He asked loudly, looking up at her from below, tapping his fingers on the armrest at his last word. She pressed her lips together, looking at him pleadingly.

"− we both know you won't marry me − you despise me − I −"

"I will be merciful and spare you from giving birth to my bastards. I will either marry you or kill you, depending on how much I like what you do now." He said softly, something like a gleam in his eye, content with this insightful thought, his cup reached his lips again as he took a greedy sip from it.

She clenched her hands into fists, knowing what he desired, knowing that if she didn't give it to him, he would take it anyway, violently and aggressively, and then just cut her throat.

She thought with despair that if she could spare herself even a little pain, she would.

He swallowed loudly, looking at her watchfully as she approached him with a slow, unhurried step, wordlessly sitting on his lap, her hair still wet from the rain, partly pinned back in a bun, partly lowered loosely down her back.

She raised her trembling hands to the buckles of her cloak, undoing them with a slow movement, his gaze fixed on her fingers. He lifted his gaze to her face, drinking quickly the remnant of wine he had in his goblet, looking greedily after a moment at her drenched gown, through which material he could see almost everything.

She felt something in his breeches pulse hard beneath her, and then again and again, becoming harder and harder.

"I don't know what to do, uncle." She whispered quietly, begging him in a way to end her humiliation, to just show her what he wanted and leave her alone.

He looked at her suddenly, humming again in his low, thoughtful, throaty tone, his hand slipping beneath the material of her underskirt, touching shamelessly her naked thigh, finally digging his fingertips into the soft skin of her hip, pressing her closer to him, forcing her to rub againt what was beneath her with slow back and forth movements.

She saw him part his lips, his other hand quickly set the cup down on the small table standing next to them and swiftly joined his first hand, also tightening on her hip. She felt the rocking movements of her hips tease something between her thighs, tickling her at the same time and making her shiver.

"Spread my breeches to the sides." He commanded in a hoarse, trembling voice looking at her expectantly, licking his lower lip in an involuntary, quick motion.

She did as he instructed and suddenly felt something hard and throbbing press against her naked body, she drew in the air loudly guessing what it was. She felt him take his manhood in his hand in a confident movement.

"Lift up and slide it inside you." He said coolly, but the tone of his voice betrayed some kind of excitement, his healthy eye open wide.

She swallowed loudly, resting her hands on his shoulders for balance, breathing loudly, trying not to think about how scared she was, how much she wanted to go home, his sapphire eye gleamed dangerously in the dark.

She settled against him and felt the fat head of his length push against her folds, sliding in just a little, stretching her slit painfully to all sides. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a quiet sigh of discomfort, a throaty groan escaping his lips.

"− fuck − keep going −" He exhaled, not moving however, his hand holding his manhood in such a position that it stood perpendicular to her body.

She bit her lips, gasping with effort as she tried to fit him deeper inside her, another loud, involuntary groan escaped his lips, he threw his head back, clenching his healthy eye, clasping his hand on her bare buttocks. He opened it suddenly and looked at her, breathing loudly through his mouth.

One brutal, sudden thrust of his hips startled her and tore something inside her, she cried out and convulsed in pain shaking all over, his large hands stroking her thighs reassuringly.

He knew he had just taken her maidenhood.

"− shhh − shhh −" He hushed her, rocking inside her with slow, steady rhythm of his hips, looking at her with misty eyes full of something she didn't understand, a single tear of horror and humiliation ran down her cheek.

She drew in a loud breath as he lifted his one hand to her face, his thumb rubbing the wet stain from her cheek, and then his fingers tightened on the nape of her neck, drawing her closer, snuggling her face into the hollow of his neck.

Stunned and helpless, she clenched her hands on the material of his leather tunic, seeking refuge in her tormentor, wishing only that he would not cause her any more pain.

"− hush − it's all right − look how easy it's sliding in now −" He whispered quietly into her ear, his length slipping softly all the way into her only to slide out almost completely, teasing something inside her. His movements began to become increasingly slippery, his thighs slapping against her buttocks with a quiet, sticky click.

"− just like that − just a little longer −" He cooed, stroking her wet hair, placing almost tender kisses on her temple, panting along with her with each of his movements, her body bouncing slightly with each of his thrusts.

She snuggled into him tighter, just wanting to hide, to escape, his neck smelling of smoke, sweat, rain. She closed her eyes, trying to relax, and he groaned loudly feeling her body stop resisting him, his lips roaming over her wet cheek, placing moist, sticky kisses on it.

"− I know − I know − 'm close −" He whispered with some kind of care from which a shudder went through her, the thought that when he did this she might soon expect his child.

She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought feeling the tears burning under her eyelids again, sobbing quietly, embracing him tightly, his thrusts getting faster and louder, slamming his swollen, fat cock into her again and again, both of them began to moan, his one hand clenched in her hair, the other squeezed her hip.

"− how could you leave me − I was waiting for you then − ah − all fucking night − but it doesn't matter − you're mine now − g-gods − fuck! −" He exhaled loudly, panting heavily along with her, his words making her feel her core throbbing around him, sucking him inside, some warm liquid spilling inside her and suddenly it was all over.

They sat cuddled together like that for long minutes, their breaths calming, not speaking or moving, just embracing each other, his face nestled into her hair, his nose pressed against her cheek.

"From now on everything will be as it should be, wife."

_____

Alternative Universe Series: The Fall from the Heavens

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

May I ask why you dislike Malleus so much?

[My TWST character tier list is here.]

[For context on why I dislike Malleus: here and here!]

Many of the reasons previously cited above are still applicable presently (though some points may be outdated since those posts were written before book 7). In this post, I will mostly be focusing on why my thoughts on Malleus have not changed despite the new added content of book 7.

I ramble on for a bit, so I put my thoughts below the cut! Ah—but before you read, please be aware that these are my opinions and not meant to be disparaging to any Malleus likers out there.

Me disliking him should not take away any of your joy!! Go out there and love him for me ^^

A lot of the things happening in book 7 were a long time coming, so really I felt as though Malleus finally “losing it” was affirming of all the red flags from before. Since day 1, his loneliness, aloofness, and awkwardness around his peers were key traits of his. What book 7 does is it magnifies the darkest aspects of his character.

We’ve seen several examples when Malleus has fits of rage and his power flares out of control or he at least threatens it. In Glorious Masquerade, he becomes enraged at the realization that the invitation he received was a false one. In A Firelit Sky, he insinuates that he would be upset if people questioned his presence for the trip. He crushes Lilia’s phone in his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, destroying a friend’s belonging because he was upset about not being invited to an occasion. In book 7, we see a flashback of Malleus freezing the whole castle as a child because his grandmother, overtaken by her duties, could no longer dine with him as promised. Malleus’s temper has been a persistent issue since childhood.

We’ve also seen him act callously toward his classmates and misuse magic to force his will upon them. Remember him stopping time during Endless Halloween Night? How he wanted some ghosts to enjoy themselves instead of missing out on being with everyone for the holiday? Now he’s stopping time in book 7 and keeping everyone in their happy dreams forever. Remember how (in his Dorm Uniform vignettes) Malleus thought it would be easier to make the other dorm leaders come to him instead of him coming to them for their meeting? So then he disregards their autonomy and casts magic that’s normally cast on objects on living beings (something which the other dorm leaders take offense to, as it is dehumanizing). He fails to consider their perspective when he returns to Diasomnia (he basically goes, “well, I wouldn’t have been mad if they cast that spell on me!”). Malleus learns nothing from the experience despite Lilia trying to tell him over and over to be more considerate of others and how different they are from him. Now we have Malleus relating his peers to a virtual pet that he never ever wants to leave him.

Malleus can be stubborn and arrogant. He has a very single-minded way of thinking and often does not consider others’ feelings before he makes the decision for them. Malleus can be insecure. He doesn’t even fully realize he is lonely until Yuu suggests it in book 7, but he’s capable of acting on his bouts of intense emotion. He has always had these flaws, and now they are being brought out in full; we’re being forced to confront OB Malleus and all the complicated, twisting feelings of abandonment that come with him.

Let’s make one thing very clear: I don’t take issue with the overblot boys in general; they are meant to be morally grey characters that act in dubious ways. It would be insincere for me to claim “I dislike Malleus because he did bad things!” News flash, many TWST characters have done bad things or at least questionable things that would give you pause. What separates Malleus from the others and makes him egregious enough to earn significant ire from me is the particular actions he takes (which triggers a personal disdain of mine).

Malleus consistently exerts a scary amount of control over others. This is not a new idea; Riddle and Vil are also notorious for being oppressive or controlling, and I’ll be the first to admit that. (You’ll note that those two are low on my tier list too.) The thing is, Riddle and Vil were very overt and open about their demands for obedience. Malleus can be too, but it’s so insidious how he acts within the dreams. He ignores people’s autonomy, gaslights others, and, again, acts like he knows what’s best for them 💀 Other characters have done these things too, but never to the same scale or by exerting this much power. Malleus then resorts to violence when his lies don’t work, even though he’s fully aware of the power disparity between him and his peers. It feels particularly scummy to me because of how Malleus frames his selfish actions and feelings (his wish for Lilia to not leave) as selfless (for the benefit of his peers) and something everyone else would want in order to justify it to himself 💦 I know he is in (or bordering on) overblot so he wasn’t thinking rationally at that point, plus the fact that many examples I listed come from events or vignettes which may not be canon to the main story timeline. Still, there is a concerning pattern of behavior with Malleus misusing his powers or not being considerate of others and failing to grow from those mistakes. You can only go “oopsie” so many times before you harm someone by accident. I expect people to learn their lesson by then and adopt some proper restraint. He keeps claiming his intentions are good as if that’s supposed to dismiss any harm that results from his actions??? No, his actions still harmed people and he has to deal with the consequences of them, not have them hand-waved away or excused. The behavior I’m witnessing is reminiscent of like… having a toxic friend that is constantly told “hey, what you’re doing/saying makes me feel uncomfortable; do you think you could dial it back?” and the friend tells you they’ll try but then never actually changes their behavior or defends their behavior with “I didn’t mean to, so therefore I did not actually harm anyone”.

You can give me a backstory, but a backstory only goes so far as explaining why he is the way he is; it does not excuse him at all. You can say “He’s a fairy! He’s actually a child mentally! He's sheltered!” until the cows come home, but when he relies on magic to quickly fix the problems he caused instead of stopping to genuinely reflect on why people are mad at him, it’s hard for me to sympathize. Because of his immense power and status, the only person that can reasonably hold Malleus accountable is himself, and he has not demonstrated to me that he can do that.

Book 7 is essentially the payoff for allllll the tropes and traits I never liked to begin with coming into fruition. That’s why Malleus has stayed where he is in my TWST character ranking. I did not expect the writing, no matter how good or tear-jerking, to change that. Until Malleus shows that he’s fully apologetic, recognizes the error of his ways, and consciously tries to connect with others and understand their perspectives, he’s staying squarely where he is.

Am I saying a character with flaws is a bad thing? No, absolutely not! Flaws are what make a character interesting, I’m not faulting Malleus or any other characters for having them. Am I saying that he is poorly written? No, I think Malleus is actually quite a complex character and he’s been really fascinating to follow. I love the emotional complexity of book 7–and it was so clever how the devs related his virtual pet to wishing for happily ever afters for people in his real life. This magnitude of danger is also just about what I expect of book 7 and the themes of togetherness that TWST was angling for from the start. But the fact remains unchanged that I perceive his attitude as irritating at best and reprehensible at worst.

My distaste for Malleus is based entirely on my own views and life experiences. The specific flaws Malleus has and how he acts because of them don’t sit well with me and the kinds of things I enjoy in fiction. It’s not anything deeper than that!

[embbarnes]

Orange Guts.

summary: Pumpkin carving with Bucky.

warnings: Fluff | Slight nostalgic angst but only brief.

a/n: 'Tis the fucking season. It's getting closer to Halloween, and my vacation yayy. It's my favorite time of the year so yes I want to celebrate with Bucky. I don't care if pumpkin carving is considered 'childish' I will carve a damn pumpkin every year until the day I die. Shorter than normal, just a little fun drabble while I work on bigger pieces. Unedited, I plan to go over this later and fixing any mistakes. ;; wc: 3.4k

"So, are you planning to put those impressive knife skills to good use today?" you inquired with a hint of excitement in your voice. Your eyes carefully scanned the array of pumpkins laid out before you, each one a potential canvas for your autumnal artistry. Bucky stood patiently by your side, dutifully holding your steaming cup of coffee as you meticulously examined the various gourds.

Your hands moved from one pumpkin to another, gently caressing their surfaces, feeling for imperfections and assessing their potential. You were determined to find the perfect pumpkin, one that would serve as the ideal medium for your intricate carving designs. The process of selection was almost as important as the carving itself, and you took your time, knowing that the right pumpkin would make all the difference in the final product.

Bucky couldn't help but smirk as he observed your meticulous examination of the pumpkins. The way you scrutinized each pumpkin, one might think you were disarming a bomb rather than selecting a canvas for a jack-o-lantern. He found your careful, precise approach endearing, much different from the casual attitude most people adopted towards pumpkin picking. But it was you, one of your many traits he really loved. You had these little quirks he thought was adorable, and picking pumpkins happened to be one of them.

Bucky recalled how seriously you took this annual tradition from last year, you had just begun dating last fall, nothing too serious yet, but bonded enough to spend a lot of time together.

Last year's memory was still fresh in his mind as he let himself think back. The way some of the team members had playfully teased you about your intense focus on pumpkin selection. He remembered how their light-hearted jabs had unexpectedly upset you, your enthusiasm momentarily dampened by their lack of understanding and relentless teasing. Bucky hadn’t said anything like everyone else, but he noticed your reserved behavior for the rest of the time in town with everyone. He felt bad seeing your joy get crushed, he hadn’t seen you so excited before, only for it to be teased into hiding.

Bucky never wanted you to feel like you had to hide things that you were excited for, so he made an effort to ask you how to pick a pumpkin and continued to show interest just to get you back on your feet. This year, is was just the two of you, and of course dearest Alpine in the cart. No one to tease you. If anyone did, a simple stare from him is enough to shut them up.

"Sure, doll," Bucky said, his voice warm with affection. "I'm more than happy to cut the top of whichever pumpkin you choose. But," he added with a self-deprecating chuckle, "My artistic skills might not be up to par when it comes to the actual drawing part. That's where your expertise will have to take over."

As he spoke, the aroma of your fall-flavored coffee wafted towards him. Bucky's nose crinkled slightly, his reaction a mix of curiosity and mild aversion. The concept of seasonal coffee flavors was still somewhat foreign to him, he was used to plain, black coffee.

While he could appreciate the warm, spicy notes of cinnamon, nutmeg, and pumpkin spice in baked goods and desserts, the idea of infusing these flavors into coffee left him uncertain. He pondered for a moment, trying to reconcile his love for traditional, straightforward coffee with these modern, festive concoctions. "Eh," he thought to himself, "I'm not entirely convinced about these flavored coffees. Give me a simple, strong brew any day."

"How do you know you don't like it if you've never tried it?" You quipped back, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. Turning to look at him from your knelt position, you stuck your tongue out at him, your eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You sound exactly like my mom," he retorted, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner, though the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "Word for word, I swear. It's like she's here lecturing me about trying new things." He paused, eyeing the steaming cup of coffee warily. "Fine, I'll give it a shot, but don't expect me to suddenly become a pumpkin spice enthusiast."

With a theatrical sigh, the damn sassy man he was, he slowly brought the cup to his lips, the lid barely touching them as he hesitated. He finally took a small, tentative sip. You watched intently as he let the maple liquid swirl on his tongue, allowing it to cool slightly before swallowing. His face contorted into a series of expressions, curiosity, surprise, and then... a slight cringe.

"Ah..." he began, his voice a mix of disappointment and amusement. You could tell he didn’t like it, but was trying so hard to be nice about it. "I hate to say it, sweetheart, but pumpkin coffee is definitely not my cup of tea - or coffee, in this case." He set the cup down in the cart’s cup holder gently, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you shelled out five whole bucks for this, it's like autumn decided to punch me in the taste buds. You know, when I was a kid, five bucks would’ve gotten an entire feast for our family, plus some change. And you spent it on bad tasting coffee."

"Hey! Pumpkin spice coffee is absolutely delicious! You're just accustomed to the plain, ordinary variety," you retorted back with enthusiasm, your eyes lighting up as you held up a large, flawlessly shaped pumpkin. "Look what I've found! The proportions are perfect, any of its sides could be used for carving a face, and its size is just right!" You couldn't contain your excitement and pride as you carefully placed the prized pumpkin into the shopping cart, treating it as if it were a precious treasure.

Alpine, ever curious, leaned forward from her cozy carrier, her furry head poking out just enough to investigate the new addition to your shopping haul. Her little pink nose twitched as she thoroughly sniffed the pumpkin, seeming to conduct her own quality inspection.

"Well, would you look at that? She approves," you said with a triumphant smirk, reaching over to gently scratch Alpine's chin. Your eyes were drawn to the bright orange collar adorning her neck, its intricate design of pumpkins, bats, and colorful candy wrappers peeking through her silky, well-groomed fur. "You know, I'm so glad I bought you that pretty collar for the holidays," you mused, admiring how the accessory complemented Alpine's natural beauty. "It really brings out the sparkle in your eyes, doesn't it, girl?"

"I draw the line at costumes," Bucky commented, only slightly serious. Maybe he'd let you put her in a costume, maybe not. He wasn't sure yet.

Alpine purred contentedly as you gently scratched her chin, her eyes drifting closed in a state of pure relaxation. The cat's entire body seemed to melt into your touch, the level of comfort and trust she felt in your presence was obvious. Bucky watched the scene unfold with of amusement and amazement, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he observed you lavishing attention on the notoriously finicky feline, that spoiled cat of his was very picky with people.

"I swear, I'll never understand how you do it, doll," Bucky remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. "She absolutely adores you, she pretty much can't stand anyone else who comes within ten feet of her. It's like you've got some kind of magical touch or something." He let out another small chuckle as he watched his beloved cat nuzzle her head into your palm.

You glanced up at Bucky with a playful smirk, your fingers still working their magic on Alpine's chin and ears. "What can I say? It's not rocket science, you know. Nothing some of toys, treats, and fresh food won't accomplish." You hummed softly, "Plus, a little patience and understanding goes a long way."

You pulled your hand away from Alpine, earning a small chirp of disappointment from the cat. "Just a little longer princess," you smiled at her and looked back up a Bucky, "There's one more pumpkin we need, and then we can call it a day."

The kitchen counter had been prepared with a layer of protective paper, you wanted to try to preserve as much of the mess as possible. You carefully positioned the two large, plump pumpkins atop the paper, their orange surfaces gleaming as your mind raced with possibilities for your own design. Each carving tool laid neatly at each side, arranged and ready for use. You set two large bowls down to collect the seeds, stringy innards, and any excess pumpkin pieces that would be carved away during the process. You exhaled, finally done with the prep.

Bucky, seated comfortably at one of the kitchen chairs, gazing at the pumpkin you had specifically chosen for him. His eyes roamed over its surface, taking in every detail of the gourd before him. It was, without a doubt, a pumpkin of exceptional quality - perfectly round and symmetrical, with a smooth, unblemished skin that seemed to invite touch. The stem atop the pumpkin was curled elegantly and trimmed to a short, safe length, free from any potentially prickly protrusions.

"So," he ventured, his voice a mixture of eagerness and slight hesitation, "I start with cutting a hole in the top, right?"

"Don't tell me you've never carved a pumpkin before," you commented with a hint of amusement in your voice as you settled down next to him. You pulled your own pumpkin closer, positioning it comfortably in front of you. "There's a bit of technique to it, you know. You've got to cut at an angle when you're making the top opening. That way, when you put the lid back on after you're done carving, it doesn't just fall right inside. It's a little trick that makes a big difference. A lot of people don’t put enough of an angle."

Bucky's eyebrows furrowed slightly, a mix of concentration and mild indignation crossing his features. "Of course I have," he retorted, his voice carrying a touch of defensiveness. "It's just... well, it's been a while. Been sort of out of it for seven decades, if you remember." His words carried a weight of history, hinting at his painful past. Despite this, he reached for one of the carving knives with determination, his movements precise and controlled.

You watched as Bucky approached the task with the same focus he applied to everything. That cute knit in his brow, the way his eyes squinted as he formed tunnel vision on the pumpkin. He penetrated the thick skin of the pumpkin with ease, his enhanced strength making the job look effortless. True to your advice, he carefully cut at an angle with his right hand, creating a smooth, circular opening at the top.

You set to work on your own pumpkin, your cuts were slightly less refined than Bucky's, but you managed to create a serviceable opening nonetheless. A sense of accomplishment washed over you as you surveyed your handiwork. "Look at us," you said with a grin, "We've both got our pumpkins opened up now. Not bad, coming off seven decades, huh?"

Bucky smiled as he pulled the top off, “No, it’s not. Easy, actually. I’m just worried my face is going to come out funny looking.”

“That’s the point, silly. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s a pumpkin carving, the goofier or sillier, the better.”

Preparing to scoop out the insides, a childhood memory surfaced through your mind when your fingers touched the cool insides. "You know," you began, your voice taking on a nostalgic tone, "My younger brother used to be so scared of touching the inside of the pumpkin. He'd make all sorts of faces and noises when it came time to clean it out." Your hand disappeared into the pumpkin as you spoke, emerging with a fistful of slimy, stringy pumpkin guts. The cool, slippery texture brought back a flood of autumn memories to past carvings.

The callback to simpler times made Bucky crack another smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "Really?" he asked, clearly entertained by the mental image of a young you and your squeamish brother.

"Oh yeah, he'd freak out," you confirmed with a chuckle. "He flat-out refused to touch the inside. I had to clean it out for him, or one of my parents would do it. But he did eventually grow out of it, though it took him quite a while. I think he was already a teenager by the time he finally got over it and scooped out his own pumpkin."

You paused for a moment, your hands stilling in their task as you found yourself lost in the bittersweet nostalgia of those memories. The laughter, the warmth, the sense of togetherness - it all felt so vivid yet so distant.

"It's strange how things change," you mused, your voice softening. "Back then, pumpkin carving was this big family event. We'd all gather around the kitchen table, newspapers spread out to catch the mess, competing to see who could create the scariest or funniest face. Now... well, we all have our own busy lives. We're scattered in different directions, each caught up in our own world."

A wistful sigh escaped your lips as you resumed your task, your movements more deliberate now. "Sometimes, I wish I could go back, you know? Just for a day. To feel that simplicity, that closeness again. Does that make sense?"

"Doll, if anyone understands wanting to go back, it's me," Bucky replied, his own hands now covered in slimy pumpkin guts. He scooped out a handful and tore out the seeds, letting them drop into the bowl with a soft patter. His eyes, filled with a mixture of nostalgia and resignation, met yours. "I think about that too, all the time. Seeing my family again... hearing their voices, feeling my mom's hugs. But deep down, I know it's just a dream. You can't change time, no matter how much we might wish we could."

There was a profound beat of silence between the two of you, as memories of a better time washed over you both like a bittersweet tide. Your minds wandered back to the warmth of family life, to the simple joys and shared laughter that seemed so distant now. Before the alien invasions that shattered the normalcy you once took for granted. Before what felt like an endless cycle of fighting, running, and hiding became your daily reality. The weight of the chaotic life you both now lived hung heavy in the air, you felt like you couldn’t get a break.

Just as the silence threatened to become overwhelming, Alpine's insistent meow for attention pierced through your shared reverie. Both of you instinctively glanced towards the source of the sound, your eyes landing on her pristine white fur. She sat primly at one of the bowls, her curiosity piqued by the strange contents within. She slowly extended a paw, attempting to touch the slimy pumpkin guts and seeds.

"I wouldn't change it," Bucky looked over at you, his eyes filled with sincerity and warmth. "I want to go back, sure, but I wouldn't. I have you now, and that means everything to me. The thought of never meeting you...I wouldn't want to risk losing that for anything in the world. You saved me already, I can’t imagine my life without you in it."

You felt a wave of emotion wash over you, touched deeply by his heartfelt words. The intensity of his gaze and the raw honesty in his voice made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and affection for this man who valued your presence in his life so highly. You didn’t have conversations like these too often, or when you did, it was when one of you was feeling vulnerable or more down during a hard day. It often left you or him feeling choked up.

Trying to lighten the moment and hide how touched you were, you playfully hit his arm, your lips curving into a tender smile. "You big sap," you teased, your voice soft with fondness. "Cut a face into the damn pumpkin..."

Bucky's face lit up as he began to carve, his mind not set on any particular design but rather drawing inspiration from the classic jack-o-lantern image etched in his memory. He etched out a simple yet charming face, triangular eyes, a small triangular nose positioned just right, and a wide, friendly smile adorned with two square teeth strategically placed on opposite sides of the mouth. Even though he had claimed his artistry wasn’t the best, he carved the pumpkin very well. Each line he created was impeccably smooth, the blade gliding effortlessly through the pumpkin's flesh.

You, on the other hand, found yourself completely absorbed in your own creative process, your hands steady as you wielded the carving tool. You drew your chosen design onto the surface of your pumpkin, each stroke of the blade bringing your vision to life. Time seemed to slip away as you worked, lost in the satisfying task of transforming the ordinary gourd into a work of art. Once the main carving was complete, you took extra care to refine and clean up any stray pieces and wiping away excess bits with a damp paper towel to ensure a polished finish.

When you were done, you set down your tools and admired your handiwork. "There, I'm done," you announced proudly, carefully turning your pumpkin to face Bucky. Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you presented your creation, eager for his reaction. "What do you think?" you asked, a mix of anticipation and pride coloring your voice as you waited for his assessment of your jack-o-lantern.

"It looks fantastic, doll," he praised enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up as he carefully examined the intricate face you had carved onto the pumpkin. The details were truly impressive, showcasing your artistic talent and creativity. "You've really outdone yourself. I stuck with a boring one."

He then turned to his own creation, a hint of self-consciousness creeping into his voice. "Now, how about mine? I know it's not as exciting or elaborate as yours, but I think I did a decent job, all things considered. What do you think?" He gently rotated his pumpkin, presenting it for your inspection. Despite his modest words, there was an undeniable glimmer of pride in his eyes. Art might not have been his forte, but he had poured his heart into it, feeding on your passion.

You studied his handiwork, you couldn't help but be impressed. It may not have been as flashy as some, but there was an undeniable charm to its simplicity. "Oh, Bucky," you breathed, your voice brimming with genuine admiration, "It's absolutely perfect."

Your praise seemed to bolster his confidence, and a warm smile spread across his face as you continued, "I mean it, you did an incredible job. The symmetry, the clean cuts - it's flawless. It looks like it should be featured on the cover of one of those glossy fall edition home and garden magazines. You know, the ones by the check out stands that always make everything look so effortlessly elegant and seasonal? That's exactly what your pumpkin reminds me of, it’s beautiful."

His cheeks flushed at your heartfelt praise, that pretty blush scattering across his cheeks and nose. Initially, he had thought it was just a simple, perhaps even silly, pumpkin face he had carved. But your sincere words of admiration stirred something within him, creating a warmth that spread from his chest outwards. He found himself basking in the glow of your approval, he was a sucker for praise after all.

At first, he had been hesitant about carving a pumpkin with you, unsure if he would enjoy such a traditional autumn pastime. He hadn’t done it since he was a kid anyway, so it wasn’t something that really crossed his mind. But now, looking at your beaming face and feeling the contentment settling over him, he knew that his initial doubts had been completely unfounded. The simple act of creating something together, sharing laughs, and enjoying each other's company was what it was about. Not the carving, but spending time with you.

"Let's put some candles inside and put them outside! I want to see them in the dark!" You got up and carried your pumpkin to the porch, prompting him to stand too. "Come on, Buck Buck!" You called, the nickname made him chuckle as he picked his pumpkin up, along with the two candles you set to the side.

"I'm comin' sweetheart, wait for me!"

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Cover images from Pinterest

[babymetaldoll]

The annual BAU Halloween Costume Competition (Spencer Reid x fem!Bau reader)

Summary: Spencer wants to win a costume competition, but wins your heart instead.  Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Other than cursing? extreme fluff.  A/N: Happy Halloreid and Gublerween everyone!! and if you celebrate it, happy Ieroween as well!  Masterlist

No one could ever say Penelope Garcia threw lousy Halloween parties. They were always fun, with the best food and theme. Over the years, she had organized incredible celebrations for the entire BAU family. It was her moment to shine. Decorations were always spot on, the altar was always ready for pictures of long-lost loved ones. There were theme cocktails and food, but by far, the most important event of the night was the Halloween costume competition.

It had started as a joke during their first Halloween celebration, and over the years, it had turned into the main event of the night. Each year, Penelope made sure she had a prize for the winner of first place and a little something for second and third. In fact, she usually got something for everybody who participated in the party, 'cos that's the kind of host Garcia was.

And that year wasn't the exception.

The entire team was excited about the celebration. They needed a moment to relax after the last couple of cases they had had. Well, the entire team except for Spencer Walter Reid. Instead of looking forward to the celebration, he was freaking out trying to find the best costume to finally win the BAU Costume Competition. Why? because he was the only member of the team who had never won first place. Hell! He never even got second or third. He just got a participation price every year. And he hated it.

Halloween was Spencer's favorite holiday. He wasn't really into Christmas, it was too emotional and it reminded him of all the holidays he spent alone with his mother growing up, and how sometimes she wouldn't even remember it was Christmas. New Year wasn't his type of celebration 'cos he wasn't a party guy. He didn't enjoy clubbing and his definition of a fun evening included a bunch of books, herbal tea, and his couch. Not to mention Valentines. That was a miserable holiday for Reid. He never had a date that day, and the only girl he wanted to ask out was - at least according to his own words - way out of his league. So, to sum it up, Spencer's favorite holiday was Halloween and he couldn't even win a work costume competition.

He felt it was personal that year. He had to win. He had to have his moment of joy.

- "See you all guys tonight in my house!"- Garcia was beaming as she stood in front of the team that October 31st during their daily morning meeting.- "Everything is ready! We are going to have so much fun!"

- "We'll be there at seven. Savannah is very excited."- Morgan clapped his hands once and chuckled- "And you can all forget about winning this year's costume contest, 'cos me and my girl are gonna kill it."

- "I don't know, me and Will have a matching costume that could be the best one yet."- JJ smiled confidently at Morgan and Spencer frowned.

- "Do couples' costumes get more points?"- the young doctor asked, confused.

- "No, but they are fun!"- Garcia explained with a huge grin. - "Do you have your costume ready, boy wonder?"

- "Yes, and I don't mean to get cocky, but I'm sure this year you are all going to be amazed."- Reid answered with a smirk on his face.

- "No more Doctor Who then?"- Emily teased, chuckling- "You didn't knit any scarf this year."

- "My knitting skills are saved for Whovian's conventions only."- Spencer replied, making Em laugh. - "And I won't say a thing about my costume, it will be a surprise."

- "Hey, Spencer."- Garcia whispered and grabbed his sleeve as they all walked out of the briefing room, forcing him to stay behind with her.- "I was wondering if you are planning to ask (Y/N) out, or if you are going together to the party."

And Spencer's heart stopped. He opened his eyes and stared at his friend in disbelief. Not that he thought no one knew about his crush on his teammate. He just wasn't ready to deal with it just yet.

- "Ok, breathe, Reid!"- Garcia shook his arm as he nearly panicked in silence, standing in front of her. - "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, but it's getting painful to watch. She likes you too!"

- "I don't... I don't feel."- Spencer tried to rearrange the words in his head, but failed. Instead, all he managed to do was frown and sigh.

- "Wow, an IQ of 187 slashed to nothing just like that. It's amazing. You hear the legends about it, but when you see it happen, it's disturbing."- Penelope did her best not to laugh at Spencer's humiliated face. His cheeks were burning as he kept trying to explain what was happening inside his brilliant brain.

- "You don't get it, I can't ask (Y/N) out! We work together! We are on the same FBI team! What if it doesn't work? What if I lose my friend all because I thought I had a shot with her? or worse! What if she doesn't like me that way, and she laughs in my face? How do I work with her after that?"

- "But how do you live with yourself now?"- Garcia whispered after Spencer's speech.- "You are alone, loving a girl in silence. That's even worse than failing. That's just being miserable."

Spencer didn't reply. He stared at Garcia in silence as she cut him a short smile and gave him a small hug.

- "I know you love Halloween, maybe tonight could be your night."

That poor man just wanted to win a simple Halloween costume contest, and now he wasn't sure he actually wanted to go to that celebration.

Spencer took his time getting ready for the party. He had picked a Beetlejuice costume that went with his crazy natural hair. He did his makeup, put on the stripped suit, combed his crazy hair, and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

- "You might not get the girl tonight, but you are getting your first prize in that costume competition."- he assured himself in the mirror before leaving his bathroom, ready to go to Garcia's.

- "Reid! Wait for me!"- (Y/N) shouted as she ran to cross the street, holding her bag and wig in place. Spencer turned and stared at her, feeling the wind was knocked out of his lungs. She looked hot. Not good. Hot. Smoking hot. So hot he couldn't help but scan her outfit up and down before he even tried to speak. She was dressed as Lydia Deetz, wearing a red dress that hugged her body in all the right places.

- "Wh... wh... w... wow."- that was all he could say when she smiled at him staring at his costume.

- "I know, right?! I can't believe we are matching!! I had no idea you were coming as Beetlejuice!"

- "I... when I... I really... wow."- Spencer was glad no one could see him making a fool out of himself. Well. no one but the co-worker he loved. Yet, he knew if Morgan or Rossi saw him, it would be worse.

- "You look amazing, Spencer!"- (Y/N) smiled and rubbed his arm as he just stared at her, trying to form an intelligent sentence.

- "Thank you, so do you."- that was all he managed to say. (Y/N) continued smiling as she walked inside the building and into the elevator. Spencer just followed her in silence, trying to make his brain function again.

- "Oh my god!! You look amazing (Y/N)!"- Garcia nearly yelled as she opened the door and found her teammates in the hall. - "And! Oh, Jesus!! You are matching costumes too! This is amazing!"- Spencer smiled, awkwardly, thinking his friend was already one or two cocktails in, which meant that in about half an hour she was potentially going to start embarrassing him in front of (Y/N).

- "So you really wanted the extra point for matching costumes?"- JJ teased Spencer as he and (Y/N) walked into the apartment.

- "You said there were no extra points!"- he replied immediately, hoping no one would start teasing him right away. Because, obviously they would.

- "There are no extra points, but there is extra fun when you get back home."- Morgan teased him, holding Savannah's waist as she stood next to him.- "Is that your plan too, kids?"

- "You guys look amazing!"- (Y/N) ignored Derek's comment and smiled at them. They were dressed as Aladdin and Princess Jazmine.

- "Not really creepy, though."- Spencer added.- "And Halloween is the night to be creepy."

- "You are creepy all year long."- Morgan's snarky comment was ignored when Garcia walked over with drinks for everybody. JJ and Will were dressed as Harley Quinn and The Joker, Rossi was dressed as Dracula, Hotch was Neo, from Matrix, Emily was Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction, and Garcia was Tiffany, Chucky's girlfriend. Sergio, her cat, was walking around the apartment in a tiny Chucky costume.

If you asked Spencer, he was sure he had a chance to win the competition that year. If only he could focus on it. But with (Y/N) dressed as his character's bride, dancing with Em and JJ, he had trouble thinking clearly.

- "Ok, loverboy. How did you manage to keep it in the dark about this?"- Derek asked Spencer after an hour or so into the celebration. Reid was standing next to a table, holding a drink and staring at (Y/N) dancing, not even being subtle.

- "About what?"

- "You two are clearly together. When did that happen?"

- "What? No... we... I am... she doesn't. We aren't.... no!"- he tried to explain and failed in the process. Derek raised an eyebrow staring at him, and Reid made his best effort to explain his mind. - "We didn't plan this, it just happened. I had no idea she was gonna show up dressed as Lydia."

- "Kid, you don't have to lie anymore. I'm glad things worked your way."

- "We are not together. She doesn't... we haven't. It.. it's not gonna happen, Ever!"- Spencer wanted to storm out, but he stayed still. Instead of leaving, he turned around and looked at the table, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room. Morgan walked a step closer and stood next to his friend.

- "You didn't plan this? You are not dating?"- and Reid just shook his head,- "And what are you waiting for?"

- "It's not gonna work."

- "Of course it won't. Not if you have a lousy attitude. She loves you, stop being a coward and kiss her."

- "Easy for you to say, no girl has ever rejected you."

- "Come on, kid. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. As far as I know, she likes you too. Now go there and ask her to dance."- before Spencer could argue, Morgan walked away. And the young doctor stood there, staring at the guacamole bowl, not able to move.

- "What caught your eyes?"- (Y/N)'s voice nearly gave him a heart attack. She just stood next to him with a big smile and stared at the food on the table.- "Hungry?"

- "I'm... I'm... the cheese board looks great."- he mumbled and mentally facepalmed himself for making such a stupid comment.

- "It does! Garcia has really outdone herself this year. And last year was already pretty awesome."- Spencer didn't reply, he just stared at the food, avoiding eye contact, in a desperate attempt to keep his brain working. But (Y/N) just sighed, and after a few seconds of silence, she just walked away. Reid closed his eyes and bit his lips.

- "Well done, asshole. You really know how to look like a jerk."- he argued with himself.

- "Everybody! Get together! we are gonna vote for this year's best costume!"- Penelope clapped a few times and stood in front of the group, next to the altar with pictures of their loved ones.

- "As every year, we'll choose the winner with our clap-o-meter"- which they didn't really have, but the costume with the louder reaction from the team was the winner.

- "First we have the Joker and Harley Quinn."- JJ and Will walked to the front and the entire room started clapping.

- "Then we have Aladdin and Jasmine."- Morgan held Savannah's hand and walked in front of their friends. Everybody clapped as Savannah did a little dance and Morgan rubbed a golden lamp. Spencer looked at (Y/N), she was clapping and smiling, looking as happy as ever.

- "Next one, Beetlejuice and Ly..."

- "No!"- Spencer interrupted Garcia, raising his arm.- "We didn't come together as a couple."- and as soon as he delivered those words, Spencer turned and looked at (Y/N). Her smile was long gone from her face. Instead, she stared at him in shock. She was hurt, she was embarrassed. And most of all, she was storming out of the apartment.

- "Shit!"- Spencer whispered as she quickly followed her, as all their friends stared at them in silence. They were all thinking pretty much the same: he had fucked it up and he better fixed it.

- "(Y/N) wait!"- Spencer ran after her and held her arm before she reached the stairs.-

- "No, Spencer! I'm done! I know you hate me, but you don't have to be so mean! I thought we could work together and be civil, but clearly, you don't stand me! So, please! let me go home so you can enjoy your evening at peace."

Spencer stared at her in shock. That's what he had accomplished. That she thought he hated her. And all because he didn't know how to act around her anymore.

- "(Y/N), no. I don't hate you."

- "Don't lie! You are just gonna make it worse. I know you hate me, you never talk to me, you walk away whenever I show up, and clearly, you don't wanna participate in a silly costume competition with me!"- (Y/N) pulled her arm from Spencer's hand and started walking down the stairs. But before she could go too far, Spencer held her hand and stopped her.

- "I don't hate you, I fucking love you! I have no idea how to act when you are around! I can't even speak when you are looking at me!"- he blurted out, not even thinking. (Y/N) stared at him, frowning. None of them said a word for a few seconds until she managed to whisper.

- "What?"

- "I... love... I love you."- Spencer repeated, in a softer voice. (Y/N) took a step closer and tried to read his face, looking for any sign of deceit. But there wasn't. Instead, he stared at her in adoration, waiting to see if his words had had any kind of effect on her.

- "You do?"- she asked, and Spencer blinked, nodding- "'Cos I love you too. So much."- she whispered, blushing.

- "You... do?"- Spencer nearly choked with the words. (Y/N) nodded and smiled, as the two of them fell silent one more time

- "Now kiss the girl, damn it!!"- Rossi yelled from inside the apartment, making them giggle. Spencer held (Y/N)'s hand and moved closer to her, staring right at her lips. She smiled in anticipation and nearly had a heart attack when she felt Spencer's lips on hers, kissing her so slowly, carefully, and sweetly, like she was made of crystal.

After a few seconds, they moved apart from each other and simply smiled, still in disbelief.

- "Do you... wanna go back inside?"- (Y/N) whispered, and pointed to Garcia's apartment.

- "Or... would you like to go out on a date?"- Spencer suggested, and her eyes shone in excitement.

- "A date on Halloween sounds like the best plan ever. But I thought this year you wanted to win the costume contest."

- "A date with you is the best prize ever."- Spencer replied and held her hand, leading the way downstairs. 

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Devil's night [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 4k

summary: Spencer is excited about his Halloween plans and you join him.

Directly based on episode 6x06, because I felt so bad about how the team behaves with Spencer that I needed to do something

“I see someone’s feeling spooky today,” Morgan smiled, looking you up and down.

You were wearing a cardigan knitted with various prints related to the time of year; pumpkins, ghosts, black cats, and candy corn, over a bright purple skirt and tall boots. Normally you would dress more formally due to the implied dress code the FBI operated under, but it was the weekend and Halloween was around the corner, so you could skip a suit day to wear one of those many scary-related items you had. After all, Halloween was your favorite holiday of the year. It was fun for everyone when you were a child, but as you grew up, your love for said celebration became a little weirder for others, so when you became an adult, you didn't think anyone shared such excitement about the date. Well, that is until you met Spencer Reid.

“It became a little more commercialized in the 1950s with trick-or-treating, and today it rivals only Christmas in terms of popularity” you heard him say, as he walked in with an already quite annoyed Emily Prentiss.

You knew that sometimes Spencer talked too much, but you hated that the rest of your coworkers got upset like that when he was talking about something that he was passionate about. Now the subject was, clearly, the next date.

"All I asked was what he was doing this weekend" she complained to Rossi. Spencer ignored her and continued with his cathedra as he settled into the empty space next to you.

“I'm toying with the notion of either going to the Edgar Allan Poe Shadow Puppet theater or the re-enactment of the XIX century Phantasmagoria,” he said and your heart did a little skip. You and Reid had argued on a few occasions, outside of work, about Poe’s works and although you didn't know what the second thing he had mentioned was, it sounded very interesting.

“What is a Phantasmagoria?” you asked nicely and when your partner noticed your presence he smiled widely, as if he was just noticing you in the room. The others all pouted in anticipation of the explanation to come and you hoped Spencer hadn't noticed.

“Phantasmagorias are these amazing pre-cinema projected ghost shows invented in France, where the showman attempted to spook the audience using science magic” he explained to you, while he took a seat and waved his hands from side to side. You were completely unaware of the term so you slightly parted your lips in astonishment.

"Sounds interesting"

"I have an extra ticket, do you want to come with me?" he asked you, almost immediately, with the biggest smile of all. Honestly, the invitation took you by surprise, especially who was asking, and Spencer seemed to see it on your face. “I mean, if you don't have plans this weekend. You can say no if you want."

“I'd really love to,” you exclaimed, so he wouldn't get the wrong idea, and watched his eyes sparkle with joy as he nodded.

The others wanted to make fun of it a bit, but Garcia didn't give them time to when she handed you the case files. When Hotch told you that you were going to fly to Detroit, your partner complained loudly and his gaze inevitably went to you, since you were supposed to have made plans together literally three minutes ago, but knowing that the unsub only attacked during these three days of the year. You had no choice but to accept your fate. You have never gone from feeling completely happy to being so disappointed in such a short time.

"I guess you better forget what I just told you," Reid sighed, as you left the conference room.

"Maybe we'll make it on time, when is the show?"

"This Sunday. The puppet theater is at 9:00 pm, the last Phantasmagoria show is at 11:00 pm. None are sold out yet"

"If we get back in time enough, I'll accompany you both, what do you say?" you muttered, trying to be as positive as possible, as you took your friend's arm with both hands and gave it a friendly squeeze. Spencer was taller than you, but thanks to the boots you were wearing and the extra inches they gave you, your eyes were almost at the level of his “Don't be discouraged.”

"I like your clothes today," he suddenly murmured. Sometimes he would give you those kinds of sweet compliments, perhaps as thanks for the kindness with which you always treated him, and you would almost always blush "The drawings are beautiful. Do you know why pumpkins became so representative?"

"Jack-o'-lantern," you replied, rather proud of yourself for knowing the answer.

"But did you know that in the original story it wasn't a pumpkin but a turnip?" he said and you were silent. But he didn't make fun of you for it, instead he saw a new opportunity to impress you "Yeah, you see, in the original legend Stingy Jack..."

The rest of the team, who was in front of you, shared knowing looks as if they were pitying you for having activated the doctor's rambling mode, but the truth was that you were fascinated with every word that came out of his mouth. Sometimes you couldn't believe how there was someone as intelligent in the world as your cute companion and as he spoke you prayed, perhaps with all your might, that you could catch the unsub in time to be able to fulfill the plans in the ones he had included for the weekend.

Almost as if by divine handiwork, the case was solved just in time for the plane to land and you two to rush home to get dressed for the theater. Hotch was even sympathetic to you and told you that the paperwork could wait for Monday just because he had heard of your plans, which you were immensely grateful for.

Spencer was happy that you agreed to go out with him, especially since the idea of asking you out was completely impulsive. It was true that he had an extra ticket but he never thought of having the courage to ask you to accompany him, much less did he think that you would be interested in it, since he was regularly ignored by his colleagues at work. It was something he had never discussed with anyone, only his beloved and gone Elle, but it haunted him almost every day.

Luckily for him, Spencer had prepared the wardrobe he wanted to wear in advance, and all he had to do was take a warm shower, shave, and put on some cream and cologne to get ready. In addition to, of course, styling his short hair as best he could.

He felt particularly concerned by his appearance that night and he pondered whether you would think he looked silly wearing a 19th century French suit. He had bought it last month and it was stored with his costume collection, which no one on the team knew about yet and he didn't intend for that to change.

He had offered to pick you up and when he got to your building, he felt strangely nervous. The doorman was a kind older man that he had seen a couple of times, so when he said that he was looking for you, the man called you on the phone to let you know.

They were silent for a few moments and he began to rock on his heels to kill some time.

“Will you take her trick-or-treating?” the doorman, Tony, joked. Spencer didn't take it the wrong way, instead he laughed it off.

"It's not the plan, but if someone takes pity on us and gives us some I won't complain" he replied and now it was the employee's turn to laugh.

"I've seen you before, are you her boyfriend?"

“Coworkers,” Spencer clarified, with a smile.

"Ah, so you're also a policeman?" although it wasn't the proper term, Spencer didn't know if you had hidden your real job for personal reasons, so he held back from explaining to the man that you were actually a profiler.

"Yes, something like that"

Tony wanted to ask more questions, but the sound of the elevator caught the attention of both men and revealed your figure.

"No fucking way," you breathed, looking your friend up and down and if he hadn't gone dumbfounded, he probably would have said the same thing "Look at you!"

"Where did you get that?" he asked in amazement. Although Spencer had thought that you would show up in a costume, he hadn't expected to see you like this. 

"You don’t like it?"

"No, I love it" he hastened to say, when he heard the insecurity in your voice "It's just… I didn't expect to see you as a 19th-century French lady"

You were wearing a beautiful black dress with lace details that obviously alluded to the fashion of the time, black satin gloves, plus a discreet hat on your well-groomed hair and boots that Reid had seen before, but they made a great combination with the outfit. The man's surprise was because he had invited you with such short notice and yet you had gotten the perfect costume and not only that, but one that conveniently matched his.

“And I didn't expect to see you as a French gentleman either” you laughed, as you reached out to wrap him in a hug "I guess it was pure fate"

“Or the fact that we are going to see a recreation of a 19th-century show. Our brains thought the same thing.”

“It doesn't sound so charming when you say it like that" you complained amused and he realized it was true "Shall we go? I don’t want to be late"

Spencer nodded and immediately offered you his arm to hold onto as you walked, a gesture that made you believe you were really entering a time tunnel.

“Enjoy your night”

"Thanks, Tony! Don't scare too many kids and don't eat too much candy,” you waved, blowing him a kiss as you followed Spencer out the door.

He guided you to his car and opened the passenger door for you and then he got in himself to start the engine and get going.

"I really can't believe that we got a couple's costume by pure coincidence"

“Couple costume?”

“Yes, they are those costumes of the same theme that you use with a couple. You know, like the people who dress up as Fred and Daphne or Morticia and Gomez”

Spencer didn't know the last couple, but he did have a vague recollection that the first ones mentioned were from Scooby Doo due to the cartoons he came from as a child.

"Oh" he sighed "Yes, get it”

“Honestly this was a last-minute thing. My downstairs neighbor studies theater and we are good friends, so I asked her if she had anything in her curiosities bag that could help me and she pulled out this dress. It was enough to adjust it a little" you told him, putting both hands on the neck of your dress and smiling from ear to ear "I couldn't believe it, it was really a stroke of luck”

"It looks so pretty on you," he said suddenly, looking away from the road just for a moment to check that you had heard him. "I don't think I told you when I saw you, but that's what I thought."

"Thank you then," you smiled, feeling your cheeks warm a little.

Spencer started talking to you about the creation of puppet theaters and, of course, the Poe stories you were going to witness, with you interrupting him only to point out some decoration along the way that you thought was cute. On Halloween you almost always preferred to stay at home to watch horror movies or go down to the hall to distribute candy to the youngest children, with very discreet costumes to avoid the evil looks of adults. But now you were excited to be doing this with Spencer, who was maybe the only person you knew who wouldn't make fun of you under any circumstances. Your relationship was based on a certain complicity, perhaps more than you had with any member of your unit.

Arriving at the site, he reopened your door and offered you his hand to help you down, which you took without complaining. Once you were outside, he repeated the gesture from when he picked you up from your building and in this way you walked to the entrance, where a woman disguised as who you assumed was Berenice (a Poe character) sold you a couple of tickets.

It was a lovely show and when you weren't looking at the puppets you took the time to admire your companion, whose eyes revealed the emotion of a child. You never thought the doctor was fond of a thing like this and now that you had discovered it you found it quite adorable. As you left you asked him if he was a Muppets fan by any chance and, to your surprise, he was. Spencer even told you that he had a couple of Kermit the Frog items that his mom bought him when he was little, but he also told you not to tell anyone or he'd be embarrassed and you pinky promised him.

You still had an hour between the two shows so you decided to go to a nearby park where there were lots of food stalls: candy apples, popcorn, candy, lemonade, and you even got to one where a Hispanic woman offered you pieces of candied pumpkin. You had to take off your gloves (which he kept carefully in his jacket) when you bought a few pieces of this last one for the two of you and when you tried it you agreed that it was delicious. The woman told you that in Mexico, her country of origin, she always served them to her children with a glass of milk.

Spencer spared no expense just to fulfill all your cravings, even though you refused, so when you got in the car to go to the Phantasmagoria your stomach was pretty full. The place where it would take place was a gray tent in the open air, with a dais in front and several wooden benches arranged so that enough people could fit in. As you had arrived with some time, you took a seat on a bench in the second row and waited patiently for the show to start.

Suddenly all the lights around you went out, leaving only the ones pointing to the front of the stage, and a presenter dressed as a magician appeared.

“For many centuries, wandering spirits have inhabited the world unseen by the human eye, always confined to the world of shadows…” his voice was mesmerizing and kept you on the edge of your seat, watching him carefully “but for a certain time of the year, their magic grows and they are able to cross the barrier that separates us…”

The entire tent was filled with smoke and the audience, including you, looked around trying to figure out what would happen. The presenter continued giving his gloomy monologue and, although you didn’t imagine how, you even felt that the temperature decreased a little with each word he said. Suddenly even the lights that were pointed at him began to dim and by the time he finished explaining to you the whole place was in complete darkness.

There was silence for a moment to build tension and then there was an explosion that made you jump in place. To tell you the truth, you didn't expect much from the show, you thought that being a recreation it would have many shortcomings, but when the first figure appeared on the roof your heart skipped a beat.

You weren't a scared person under normal circumstances and your resistance to the horrifying images you saw at work on a daily basis shows this, but this time perhaps all the environmental components of that night were what made you feel that way. A loud laugh resounded and then another pair of specters appeared, this time flying at the height of the audience and even passing through some of you.

Spencer's reaction was nothing like the rest. Despite his fear of the dark he was totally fascinated by all the images, his mind already working to decipher the magic trick that was being performed. What finally got his breath caught was the feel of your hand searching his. He was still shielding your gloves so he could feel the cool temperature of your fingers, as opposed to how warm he was in comparison. Even knowing that doing that was a reflex act due to fear, he stopped paying attention to the show to look at your hand on top of his, with that noticeable difference in size.

Just as you had admired him during the puppet show, he took the time to observe your expressions now. Your face lit up from time to time by the illusions around you and every time you startled you squeezed his hand harder, in addition to adjusting your body against his as if you were looking for some kind of protection. Spencer had gone out with friends many times and of course with the rest of his female colleagues at work, however none of them had behaved like you were doing. He wasn’t bothered by your behavior, but rather intrigued, since you seemed quite comfortable taking refuge in him to feel safe. Although he knew how to identify qualities in people, he sometimes had a hard time crossing the line of identifying them to really admire them. When he thought of JJ, he thought of a charismatic woman. When he thought of Emily, he thought of intelligence. And when he thought of Penelope, he always saw joy and optimism. But when he thought of you, there were too many qualities to focus on just one: he thought of kindness, calmness, creativity, wit, beauty, empathy... what a big heart you had and how at the end of the day you were perhaps the only one who could make him smile. When he invited you to join him, he did it because he knew you had the same feeling towards scary things, but now that you were there, looking so pretty and holding his hand tightly, he thought maybe there was something else going on between you. You were the closest thing he had to a best friend, though he had never said so verbally, and that night he wanted to be nowhere else but by your side.

Only when the lights came back on did he realize that the spectacle had been forgotten to him, since the whole time he had been looking at you.

“That was all for today, my friends. Thank you for these wonderful performances and remember to recommend us to your friends the next time we're in town. Have a spooky night, all of you."

“I can't believe it, did you see all that? It was just awesome! I didn't think it was going to be this good” you said, completely excited, as you turned in his direction. Apparently you weren't even aware that your hands were clasped until he got up from the seat and helped you imitate him with that grip. Though you thought of apologizing for that, you didn't, fearing to embarrass yourself further.

“It was amazing, even for me it was hard to figure out the trick”

“Why do you want to figure it out? admit it's only magic, doctor. Sometimes life is” you laughed, grabbing his arm for the third time like a happy wife would her husband.

You are something magical, he thought, with the words on the tip of his tongue, but not daring to say them to you. 

Although the night was late, the movement in the streets was still the same and Spencer considered asking if you wanted to go somewhere else, but the yawn that escaped you made him think that the best thing for both of us would be to go home to rest. After all, the case had exhausted you.

"Back to your house, right?" he asked, just to be sure and you nodded with a smile.

The road wasn’t long, you only had to take care of the naughty at night so as not to receive any damage, so when you least expected it, you were already in front of your building. Although you intended to say goodbye, Spencer told you that he would accompany you to the door of your apartment just to make sure that you arrived completely safely, because he knew better than anyone how much could happen to a woman alone, even if it was such a short journey, and he didn't want to risk you. Tony was still awake and greeted you nicely as you walked in, so you could then get on the elevator and press the necessary button.

“I seriously have no words to thank you for today, Spencer. Except for that one time I ended up in the hospital for eating so much candy, this has been my best Halloween ever,” you admitted with a laugh, as you leaned in for a big hug.

"Thank you for accompanying me. I'm really glad you had fun, because I had a great time too”

There was a dead space between you, in which you just looked at each other with a smile. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that the night had been wonderful and maybe it was just that you two were trying to drag it out as long as possible.

“Spencer”

"Yeah?"

"Before you go, can I ask you something?"

"Whatever" he responded immediately. He got a little nervous thinking that he wouldn't be able to satisfy your curiosity by ignoring the topic you were going to ask him about and hoped that wasn't the case.

You waited another second before speaking.

"How frowned upon do you think it was for 1800s society for a woman to steal a kiss from her companion?"

Spencer's eyes danced a little in his sockets and you thought he was processing your request in disguise, until he looked at you again and spoke with complete assurance:

“Very frowned upon, surely. At that time, it was usual for men to court women, who were very repressed from making their own decisions or living their sexuality as they pleased. A woman who kissed a man was considered indecent."

You wanted to correct him, tease him or, as a last resort, simply pull him by his shirt and plant the kiss you had wanted to give him all the way. But you didn't do any of that, you just laughed softly and enjoyed his smirk for telling you the right answer.

“I was afraid of that. It's good to know” said this, you carefully approached him and placed a small kiss on his cheek, seeing him slightly surprised by the act “See you tomorrow at work. Call me when you get home”

"I will do that. Rest and see you later"

"Bye”

Just as he said, he called you a few minutes later to announce that he had arrived at his destination so you could sleep peacefully.

Spencer didn't realize that you had explicitly asked for a kiss until Morgan told him and while his friend laughed, he felt like the luckiest guy of all and, at the same time, the dumbest.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

[chris-hallelujah]

Begin Again | m.s.

Summary: A song fic to Begin Again by Taylor Swift.

Contains: mentions of past toxic relationships

Word Count: 537

A/N: Hi everyone! Here is a quick little blurb while I deal with some writer's block. All ideas are my own and I do not give permission for anyone to share this on another platform.

Link to my master list

Enjoy,

-Billie <3

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

I nervously arrived at the diner that Matt and I agreed to meet at for our first date. We had began chatting when he slid into my Instagram DMs a few weeks ago. Which transitioned into texting and back and forth SnapChats before we ended up here. My eyes scanned the tables until I locked eyes with him. He was early. As the distance closed between us he stood up to greet me. "Hey, glad you could make it!" he spoke enthusiastically as he pulled out my chair to let me sit down. A smile crept onto my lips as I recognized his chivalry. No one had ever done that for me before other than my own father. Matt radiated a sense of calmness. He was so at ease and content.

Minutes turned to hours as we shared stories and bits of information about ourselves. "...And then, boom my phone falls right into the storm drain!" I spoke giggling as I finished my story. The story was a bit embarrassing, but funny in hindsight. Matt threw his head back in laughter.

"Into the drain? Like in the middle of the street?" He spoke through laughs as I nodded. I could not believe how much of a good time we were having. My mind flashed back to that moment seeing the annoyed look on my ex-boyfriend's face as my phone fell. He was not amused at all at the situation even though I was determined to laugh it off. He never seemed to see the bright side or joy of things. I felt my body relaxing as puzzle pieces seemed to fall into place. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all?

"Well, we should probably get outta here, huh?" he said looking behind me. I turned my head over my shoulder to see the workers trying to clean up to get the diner closed. I looked at the time on my phone. 8:45 p.m. I nodded grabbing my things and standing up. I followed Matt out of the diner and we began walking down the street. I looped my arm through his as the cool fall air sent a shiver down my spine. "Ya know, fall is my favorite season," Matt smiled, his eyes twinkling with excitement seeing all of the Halloween decorations. I smiled looking up at him, his happiness radiated through the downtown streets.

"I love the winter holidays," I added. He nodded, looking at me as I spoke. "My mom and I always put the tree up a week before and make Christmas cookies," I spoke, looking into his eyes. He listened intently, genuinely interested in what I was saying. No one had ever listened to me so deeply before. No guy had ever made me feel like what I was saying was important.

"That seems sweet," he smiled, "my brothers and I like watching Christmas movies the night before. We've done that since we were kids." My mind imagined seeing Matt, Nick, and Chris as kids watching Christmas movies and a wide grin spread across my face. This whole night had gone so well and finally, I began to wonder if maybe love wasn't horrible after all. I watched it begin again.

[badboydevotee]

When Light Fades

HEAVY SPOILER. DO NOT READ if you haven't read Hotarubi, Mortkranken, and Halloween latest story.

Darkwick Academy's courtyard, where laughter and chatter mingled like a sweet melody. Amidst the throng of students, Jiro stood slightly apart, his usual calm demeanor cloaked in a rare, fleeting smile. The sight of his friends—especially you—sparked something in him, a warmth he seldom felt. 

Zenji watched from the shadows, his ghostly form barely perceptible, an ethereal observer of the joy he once shared with his brother. In his heart, he felt a bittersweet pang. Jiro had friends now, and for the first time in what felt like eons, he was not alone. That thought filled Zenji with a joy so profound it hurt, knowing he might soon have to leave. 

“Jiro!” you called, laughter bright in your voice. You waved him over, and he stepped closer, the laughter enveloping him like a fragile cocoon. He looked at you and the others, his heart swelling with an emotion he couldn’t name. It was a fleeting moment, yet it felt monumental.

Yet as the sun began to dip, casting long shadows, Zenji felt the pull of light tugging at him, a reminder that his time was almost up. He wanted to say goodbye—to tell Jiro everything would be okay. So he gathered what remained of his strength and resolved to step forward one last time.

“Go ahead,” Jiro said to you and the others, his voice steady, though the hint of something deeper lingered beneath. “I’ll catch up.” As they walked away, he felt a shift in the air, a familiar presence behind him. Zenji’s heart raced, knowing it was now or never.

“Why are you smiling?” Jiro asked, stepping closer, his voice a gentle breeze against Zenji’s ear.

The ghost smiled, his features becoming clearer, a soft light surrounding him. “I am more than happy to see you are not alone anymore, my brother.” His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. Zenji’s hand reached out, a touch as delicate as a whisper, resting on Jiro’s shoulders. “Take care of yourself, Jiro.” 

With that, Zenji ruffled Jiro’s hair, a brotherly gesture that felt both foreign and achingly familiar. But as the warmth of his touch lingered, a sudden brightness enveloped him. Zenji felt himself unraveling, the fabric of his existence thinning, slipping through the fingers of reality. 

“Wait!” Jiro’s voice, thick with desperation, sliced through the air. He reached out, grasping at the fading figure of his brother. But with a flash, Zenji vanished, consumed by light, leaving behind only the echo of his presence and a sense of profound loss.

Jiro staggered back, his heart racing, confusion spiraling into something darker. He fell to his knees in the courtyard, hands clutching his mouth as nausea twisted his insides. Tears streamed down his cheeks, hot and stinging, each droplet a fragment of a grief he couldn’t understand. Why did it hurt so much?

The world around him blurred, the laughter of the students fading into a distant hum. He felt like he was breaking apart, an incomprehensible ache gnawing at his soul. The calm, apathetic facade he wore like armor crumbled, exposing the chaos within.

Chapter 2

Someday

The courtyard was now silent, save for the distant rustle of leaves and the muffled footsteps of students drifting away. Jiro sat slumped against a stone bench, his head spinning, grief overwhelming him in waves. The chill of night crept in, wrapping around him like a suffocating shroud. He couldn't process what had just happened—the sudden, wrenching loss of Zenji. Memories flickered like dying embers in his mind: their shared laughter, the warmth of brotherhood, the gentle teasing that felt like a lifeline.

His breath hitched as nausea surged, a familiar companion now morphing into something more sinister. He pressed a hand to his stomach, fighting the rising tide of despair that churned within him. “Not now,” he whispered, half to himself, half to the ghost that had just slipped away. “Not again.”

Jiro's body betrayed him, the weight of his own health pressing down like a leaden blanket. With every heartbeat, the reality of his brother's disappearance burrowed deeper into his psyche, the ache morphing into a sharp, unbearable pain. It was all too much—his body, mind, and heart were at war, and he felt utterly lost. Just as he closed his eyes, succumbing to the overwhelming tide of exhaustion, the world faded into darkness.

When he opened his eyes again, he was in Mortkranken, the sterile scent of antiseptic greeting him like an unwelcome reminder of his own fragility. You were there, your presence a beacon in the haze of confusion. The sight of you, asleep in a chair, eased some of the weight pressing down on him. He wished he could reach out and comfort you, to reassure you that he was okay, but the words caught in his throat, choked by the remnants of despair.

As if sensing his awakening, you stirred. Your eyes blinked open, wide with worry and concern, instantly focused on him. “Jiro! You’re awake!” You rushed to his side, the urgency in your voice pulling him from the depths of his thoughts. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Calm down,” he said, his voice a mere whisper, lacking the strength to express the chaos swirling inside him. Your worry pierced through his stoic demeanor, and for a moment, he felt exposed, vulnerable. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not!” you shot back, panic rising in your voice. “You passed out! You were in so much pain… What happened?” Your hands reached for his, trembling slightly as you sought to connect, to ground him.

“He vanished right in front of me,” he said, his expression as blank as ever, though the weight of his words hung heavy in the air. “He’s a ghost… and he’s my brother.”

Silence enveloped you both, a fragile bubble that seemed to expand and contract with the rhythm of your shared breaths. “So you remember it all now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid of disturbing the fragile peace.

Jiro turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he pondered the fragments of memories slipping through his fingers. “Not all.” The admission felt like a confession, the weight of it pressing down on him.

Without a word, you took his hand in yours, rubbing it gently as if trying to erase the pain etched into his skin. The warmth of your touch spread through him, chasing away the chill that had settled in his bones. “It’ll be okay,” you murmured, the sincerity in your voice igniting a flicker of hope within him. “I’m here. You’re not alone anymore.”

For a fleeting moment, he almost believed you. But the shadows of grief were stubborn, lingering at the edges of his consciousness, refusing to fade. “I don’t know how to deal with this,” he confessed, his voice breaking. “… he’s gone, and I couldn’t even—”

“Jiro,” you interrupted softly, squeezing his hand tighter. “You’re going to figure this out. You’re stronger than you think. Just let me help you.”

His gaze met yours, and in that instant, the storm within him quieted just enough for clarity to seep through. He could feel the warmth of your presence anchoring him, pulling him back from the edge. But the looming absence of Zenji lingered, a dark void that threatened to swallow him whole.

As the minutes passed, you sat by his side, your presence a steady rhythm against the chaotic backdrop of his thoughts. But with each passing second, he felt a strange sensation coursing through him—an urge to stand up and run, to find Zenji, to understand.

“I need to go back,” he said suddenly, his heart racing with a mixture of fear and determination. “I need to find him.”

“Jiro, wait! You need to rest,” you urged, panic creeping into your voice. “You’re not well enough—”

“I can’t just sit here,” he cut you off, the desperation in his voice rising. “I need answers.”

You looked at him, worry etched into your features, but he could see the flicker of understanding in your eyes. You took a breath, steadying yourself. “Okay,” you said slowly. “But you’re not doing this alone. I’ll help you. Just… let’s figure it out together.”

For the first time since Zenji’s disappearance, a fragile smile tugged at the corners of Jiro’s mouth—a ghost of a smile, but it was there nonetheless. “Together,” he echoed, and as he squeezed your hand, the darkness felt a little less suffocating, the journey ahead a little less daunting.

He mumbled to himself a name, “Taro,” as he looked outside the window, finally recalling Zenji’s real name. You looked at him, curiosity lighting your eyes. “Did you say something, Jiro?”

He paused, the weight of the name heavy on his heart. “No, nothing,” he replied, the words feeling like a shield against the flood of emotions threatening to spill over. But deep down, he knew the memory lingered, waiting for the right moment to surface.

He knew this was only the beginning. The shadows would return, the grief would come crashing back, and the path to understanding would be fraught with challenges. But at least, this time, he wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Ao3 vers. Note: I miss writing angst~

[johnnycakesswitch]

Do you have any Darry hcs? Like everyone always makes him out to be this strict and awful grown man who’s a father. But in reality he’s still just their big brother and he’s ONLY. 20. He’s college sophomore age.

Any hcs for Darry just being a young guy and a brother?

Yeah!!

• Darry truly loves his brothers so much, they’re literally his pride and joy. I say that as an oldest sibling who has a brother and sister 4 years younger than me and another brother 12 years younger than me. It’s just an oldest sibling thing to feel real parental so even before their parents died Darry always felt kind of responsible for the others. But!! He’s still big brother Darry, not their dad

• he’s literally so goofy and will do anything to make them laugh, he’s pretty good at it too. He just makes faces all the time like behind someone’s back to make the other person laugh and Soda and Pony always crack up

• sometimes him and Soda will stay up late and Darry will tell Soda all the stuff he got into in high school that their parents never found out about and by the end they’re just crying laughing

• speaking of that, Darry has the best laugh ever it’s so contagious. Like if someone can get a good, genuine belly laugh out of Darry the others can’t help but smile too it’s just so great

• him and the others are always teasing each other like in the movie as soon as he hugs Pony in the hospital and knows he’s okay the very next thing that comes out of his mouth is “you sure look funny” LIKE 😭 they tease each other so bad but they all love it

• literally is THEEE tickle monster 😐 Pony and Soda are scarred because Darry is relentless. Pony gets it the most because he never gets out of bed when he’s told the first time and next thing he knows he’s just howling as Darry tickles him within an inch of his life poor kid

• the Curtis bros will in fact have coordinating Halloween costumes, they have every year literally since Pony was born

• Darry will wrestle with Pony and Soda just for fun, they always get a kick out of it and Darry thinks it’s hilarious because they can never pin him down unless he lets them

• if there’s any body of water. You can bet money on the fact. That Soda and Pony will be begging and pleading to be thrown in by Darry over and over again. They’ll be fighting for their lives, gasping for air, tired and out of breath, and no matter what they always pop up and are like “again 🤠” poor Darry eventually has to call it quits bc his arms are BURNING from tossing them around all day. It doesn’t help that once they start, the others want to be thrown in too 😭

Darry is still such a kid y’all. Bro eats cake for breakfast bc he loves chocolate so much. He should be in the club

[stayteezdreams]

And His Name Was Death {Part One}

Summoned

Plot: What happens when you accidentally summon death himself, and he decides he doesn't want to leave?

{Part Two}

Pairing: Death!Park Seonghwa x Gn!Reader

Requests: "I thought I saw something" + 'You meet Death himself, and he seems to have a crush on you.' + 'The creaking of an old door' + 'Accidentally summoning a demon while decorating'

Requested by: Anonymous; @tumbleboof and @amalialoved

A/n: yeah...I enjoyed writing these requests so much it turned into a series.

Warnings: Mildly suggestive content. Mentions of death (obviously)

Words: ~5.3k

Joy radiated through you as you rifled through the various decorations you had picked up on your recent trip into town. You could never resist decorations, especially Halloween decorations.

Between the festive scented candles, candle holders, themed mugs, fake webs, and candy, your counter top was covered in your new purchases.

Your eyes drifted to the last bag as you delicately pulled it open. Lifting out the object wrapped in brown paper, you unwrapped. Smiling softly at the old book, you ran your fingers over it. It had clearly been heavily used and was obviously quite old. The cover was engraved with barely legible markings, in a language you guessed was Latin, or at least similar to it.

Flipping through the pages, your eyes scanned the various blocks of text you couldn't understand, as well as random sketched pictures ranging from plants, to weapons, and what you assume were various monsters.

When you had gone to the antique store, you didn't really intend to buy anything, but when you spotted the old book sitting on a shelf, somewhat hidden behind an old lock box, you felt almost drawn to it. For a moment it felt as though you recognized it, like it was yours, but obviously you had never seen it before.

When you picked it up, you couldn't ignore the desire to buy it that bubbled up, so you did just that. You convinced yourself it would be a good Halloween decoration, though it did cost more than the other decorations you had bought combined. Something you would be convincing yourself was a good idea for a while. Though you feared you would just end up regretting it later.

As you reached the last page of the book as you quickly flipped through it, you stopped as you saw two handwritten passages on the back cover. It was in ink but had obviously been written a long time ago.

You ran your finger over the top passage as you wondered what it was. It was written in another language, but you found yourself muttering the words out loud as best as you could.

When you finished the first passage, you felt a wave of dizziness wash over you and you closed your eyes, shaking your head softly as you opened them again. The dizziness passed, and you hummed to yourself. After a moment's thought, you figured it was because you hadn't eaten yet.

Your eyes drifted to the second passage, but before you could read it, you jolted as you heard a loud fluttering sound similar to wings coming from behind you. Looking back towards the hallway, you furrowed your brow.

'Did a bird get in?' You thought to yourself as you made your way cautiously towards where the noise had originated.

After checking every room and making sure no windows were open, you wandered back to the kitchen, no bird being found. You shook your head, thinking maybe it had just flown past the window and sounded like it was inside.

Your eyes locked on the book and you frowned, pausing in your steps. It was now shut, though you swore you hadn't closed it. As you walked back to the book, you felt goosebumps rise up your arms and neck.

Instead of opening it again, you set it up on the counter beside the cauldron candy bowl. After sparing it one more curious glance, you continued to set out the decorations, only stopping when there was a knock at your door. You grinned to yourself as you quickly padded towards the door, knowing your friends had arrived for an evening hangout.

One Halloween movie later, you all stretched and joked as Yeosang and Wooyoung argued over the next movie to be put it. San made his way to the kitchen to grab some more candy, and you heard him call out to you a moment later.

Looking back at him, you saw him assessing the old book, "What's this?"

You turned around and smiled, "Isn't it cool? I found it at an old antique shop. I thought it would make a cool decoration."

"It's creepy." Yesoang commented as he looked over to see what San had.

"That's the point." Wooyoung said with a scoff, causing Yeosang to glare at him.

Seeing San suddenly look back further into the house, you followed his line of sight. "What?"

He slowly looked back at you and shook his head a bit, "I thought I saw something."

You felt goosebumps rise up your arms again but ignored them. "I thought I heard something earlier, like a bird got in, but I couldn't find anything."

"Want me to look?"

"Sure." You said with a soft nod, watching as he made his way into the back of your house.

As you watched him disappear, you got an odd feeling in your stomach, like a knot starting to form. As you began to rise, feeling as though you should follow him, he came back out with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I didn't see anything."

"Huh." You plopped back down, feeling a bit of relief wash over you, though the knot in your stomach still remained.

"Maybe your house is haunted." Wooyoung teased making you roll your eyes.

Though, when you spared the book another glance, and your mind flashed back to it being closed when you swore you left it open, you almost believed his words.

As Yeosang put another movie in, after winning against Wooyoung in rock, paper, scissors, and San had his fill of candy choices, you tried to distract yourself from your wandering thoughts.

Your thoughts however were only distracted for a short time, as you caught onto an unfamiliar figure in the TV's reflection as the screen went black momentarily. It was only for a second, but you swore someone was standing right behind you.

Not wanting to freak yourself out, you slowly turned your head, finding that the room was empty behind you. You stared down the darkened hallway, as you felt as though you were being watched. Looking back at the book, you took in a deep breath.

"Are you sure there was nothing when you looked San?"

San looked over at you, noticing you peering back at the dark area of your house.

He frowned "Yeah I'm sure, why?"

"I don't know" You hesitated, "I just...got a weird feeling."

Yeosang had now paused the movie and he and Wooyoung looked back down the hallway as well.

San stood up tapping Wooyoung's leg, "Come on."

You looked over at them as they all stood up, "What are you doing?"

"We'll check everything, so you can feel better about it okay?"

You smiled at him as you stood up as well, "That would make me feel better."

He smiled and nodded as you all walked through the house, checking every closet and every room. Yeosang checked every door and window until you were satisfied.

You sat back on the couch with a sigh, "Maybe watching horror movies when I know I live alone isn't such a good idea." You joked, making the others chuckle.

"Or, maybe I was right." Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows and you smacked his shoulder. "Shut up! I do not want to think about my house being haunted Woo."

He chuckled, "Sorry, sorry. I'm sure it's not, I'm just joking."

"Come on, let's put in a more lighthearted movie. That will be better right?" Yeosang asked looking at you, and you nodded with a smile, grateful he wanted you to feel more comfortable.

Even with the house fully checked, you felt uneasy when the time came for the three to go home. You knew your house was empty, you knew you were safe, but something felt...off.

San gave you a soft smile, "You gonna be okay?"

You nodded your head, "Yeah, I'll be fine." It wasn't a lie, you hoped.

Throwing away candy wrappers and washing your drinking glasses, you started to feel a bit better as your house grew quiet. As you began to sing softly to yourself, your nerves began to settle even more. You really were just riling yourself up with stupid thoughts.

Creak

Your voice went silent and your whole body froze as the door at the end of the hallway creaked open.

Looking to your left, you slowly reached over, grabbing the heavy candle holder you had bought earlier in the day. Silently, you walked to the hall and turned the light on, seeing it empty ahead of you. The door was in fact open and you felt your heart thump painfully in your chest.

You let out a shaky breath as you slowly crept down the hall, peering into every room, until you finally checked the last room, yet finding nothing once again.

You cursed to yourself as you walked back into your kitchen. Scoffing as you set the candle holder down, you grabbed the book and stared at it.

"You're not really haunted, are you?"

"Not quite."

Gasping you dropped the book as you quickly grabbed the candle holder, spinning around you saw a man standing a few feet away. Chucking the candle holder at him, he dodged it, though barely, as he was surprised by your quick movements.

You froze for a second as the man looked back at you, surprise fading into a smirk, "Good reflexes."

Quickly reaching behind you, you grabbed a knife from the counter and held it defensively.

His smirked seemed to widen, "A fighter too."

"Who are you?" You asked boldly, though there was a waver in your voice.

He quirked his brow, "Shouldn't you know? You called me here."

He could see the confusion that crossed your face and his interest continued to pique.

"What do you mean?" Your grip tightened around the handle of the knife.

Tilting his head softly, his eyes drifted to the book on the counter behind you, "That little incantation you read earlier."

You quickly glance at the book, and your eyes furrowed more, "What?"

He furrowed his brow before he scoffed, "You have magic in your veins and you aren't even aware of it."

You were as far away from the man as you could get but fully cornered in your kitchen. Eyeing the counter, you knew you were fully prepared to vault over it if needed.

"What does that mean? Who are you?" You asked again, your voice holding more force than before.

"It means you are a child of witches. No matter how far back in your bloodline, only those with magic in their blood can use that book. And you summoned me."

"S-summoned?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as your mind went wild. This guy was crazy, or maybe you were crazy. Whichever one it was, nothing was making sense.

Slowly, the man smiled, showing his bright white teeth. Bowing to you, he peered up, and as his eyes met yours you could see they were now completely black. Your heart jolted with shock as you felt locked in place.

"And to answer your other question. I am Death." Standing straight up again, you watched as his eyes faded back to brown. "But, you can call me Seonghwa. It is the name I go by with humans."

"Yeah, I'm going crazy." You muttered, staring almost blankly at him.

He tilted his head and a soft smile graced his face. "Is that easier to believe?"

"Is it easier to believe I'm going crazy over the fact that I somehow summoned Death into my house? Yeah, a bit."

He grinned at your words before he moved to walk into your living room. You followed him with your eyes, taking the moment to move out of your kitchen and to an area you could easily make a break for it if needed.

Looking around he smiled, "At least I didn't get summoned by someone who wanted to use me, or trap me. Last time that happened- Well, it didn't work out very well for him."

A shiver ran up your spine at his words, and you spoke again, your voice soft, and showing your new fear.

"Are you going to kill me?

Slowly he looked over at you, and for a moment you saw what you could only describe as dejection.

"Do you want to die?" He asked slowly, making your breath catch.

You shook your head, "No."

He smiled again and you almost felt relieved. "Then no, I am not going to kill you."

As he looked back towards your living room, you watched him pick up a piece of chocolate and eat it. You took this moment to fully take in his appearance.

His black hair perfectly matched his fully black outfit, and you couldn't deny he was gorgeous, almost ethereal even. If he wasn't a stranger claiming to be Death as he walked around your house as if he hadn't broken in, you might be flirting with him.

Looking over at you, his eyes scanned you before landing on the knife still in your hand.

"That won't do anything by the way." He commented with a casual tone.

Your eyes fell down to the knife in your hand and you held it tighter. "You say that, but it makes me feel better."

His lip quirked up slightly, "Then keep it."

You glanced over at the book and recalled everything that had happened since you bought it. Noises, shadows in the corner of your eyes, the feeling of being watched, but never finding or seeing anyone. Maybe he really was telling the truth.

"Why- what is an incantation to summon death doing written in the back of an old book?"

He shrugged "Well, it's not just an old book, its a grimoire, a spell book for witches. And it belonged to the last man who summoned me. The one who trapped me." You could hear malice in his voice as he looked back over at the book and your chest tightened.

"The one you killed?"

His eyes fell on you and his brow quirked, "How do you know I killed him?"

"You implied it. Besides, you said you were Death." You quickly answered.

His lips curled into a smile you would normally find charming if he weren't so unnerving.

"Smart too." He hummed as he turned to face you fully, his eyes scanned you up and down, as something you didn't recognize flashed in his eyes.

He started to walk slowly towards you and a shiver crawled up your spine, you backed away, and your felt your heart drop as your back hit the wall. Lifting your hand you reminded him of the knife as you gripped it, ready to fight if needed.

He stopped right in front of you and you felt your breath catch. The tip of the knife was pressed to his chest, but he didn't so much as blink.

Lifting his hand, he reached towards your face, his fingers gently caressing your cheek.

"Brave, strong-willed, smart, and beautiful."

His touch was cold, but it felt nice, and you resisted the urge to let out a sigh. The thought alone jarring you. You should be afraid, you should be yelling, running, fighting, but you weren't.

You met his eyes and you were startled by the softness he held in his gaze.

"What do you want from me?" You asked, voice soft, just above a whisper.

He tilted his head ever so slightly as he admired your face, dropping his hand.

"I was going to ask you that." Stepping away from you, he walked over to your fridge, pulling it open. "You summoned me, though I now know it was an accident. What was it you told your friend? You thought it would make a nice decoration?" You could hear a note of amusement in his tone.

You watched him rummage through your fridge as you thought back on your conversation with San. So he really had been here in the house, unseen, invisible. You recalled the reflection in the TV and you shivered.

Silently you walked back over to the book, the grimoire, as he called it. Quietly flipping through it, you wondered if every passage was a different spell. And you couldn't help but wonder, if you summoned him could you maybe do more?

You glanced back up at him, seeing him investigating your left-overs. Setting the knife down, you continued to flip to the end of the book.

Finding the last passage, the one you had summoned him with, your eyes fell to the second half, the part you had not read aloud. If the first half summoned him, perhaps the second half-

Before you could even finish your thought, you were being pressed up against the counter, hands held down at your sides, as Seonghwa's chest was pressed against your own. His nose brushed yours as his eyes held an intense gaze with yours.

"Don't." His voice was strong, but you thought you heard...panic?

"Don't what?" You asked somewhat breathlessly, still startled by his quick movements. You hadn't even seen him step away from the fridge.

"Read it."

"Why?" You asked, a challenge in your tone. You already knew you had been right, and from his reaction, he knew you knew it too.

"Because I don't want to go."

You felt your gut twist at the sudden vulnerability on his face, the tone of his voice did show fear, and almost desperation.

"Wh-why?" You asked again, your tone softer this time.

You felt his grip on your wrists loosen, but he still held you against him. Seonghwa debated telling you, what if you were secretly cruel? Just waiting for the perfect moment to get your hands back on the book? But as he studied your gaze a bit longer, he saw the genuine curiosity, and kindness peaking through, he also saw concern. For him? He felt his chest clench.

No, you weren't cruel, you were something...else. Something that intrigued him more than he could fully understand just yet.

"It's been so long since I've come here without cause or instruction, I'd like to stay. Unless you demand something of me."

"Demand?"

"You summoned me, and because of that, you have some realm of control over me. So tell me, what do you want?"

You stared into his eyes and saw various emotions coursing through them. What had others who summoned him demanded he do? He was Death, so did that mean he was summoned to kill? And who? Innocent people? Evil people? What did the man who owned the grimoire before you do to him when he trapped him?

The more you thought of these possibilities, the more you could make sense of the emotions in his gaze. He was afraid, he was angry, he was tired. He wanted to be free.

You found yourself shaking your head. "I don't want anything."

Seonghwa studied your face for a moment, his eyes grazing over your lips longer than he fully intended. He let go of your hands as he let out a breath.

You would really wish nothing of him? You had a powerful, God-like being at your beckoning, and you wanted nothing?

A smile formed on his face. "Kind too. I'll add that to the list."

You felt a smile tugging at your lips, but you pushed it away. "So can you only come here when you are summoned?"

Seonghwa smiled. So you had finally accepted he was really Death. Now, you were curious. Usually he might ignore your questions and flee, but you were, more or less, setting him free. And, something made him not want to leave, at least not quite yet.

"Or to take souls to the Underworld. But most times, I can only stay for a short time. Until my bidding is done."

"And...are you the only Death? I mean, there can't just be you, right?"

"No, there are many of us. We are demons, a type at least."

Your brow furrowed, "I thought Death was supposed to be an Angel?"

"The original one was, yes. But Angels can only handle so much death before they are tainted by it. Demons are not."

You nodded as if you understood, but you only grew more confused by the second.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this so easily." He mused, his tone holding both curiosity and amusement.

"And I don't know why I'm not freaking out."

He smiled as a soft chuckle left his mouth and as you smiled in return, he felt his heart skip a beat. As he studied you his gaze almost became playful.

You felt your ears and neck growing hot, "What?" You asked, uncertain what to do under his gaze.

A smirk formed on his face, "I like you." He said matter-of-factly.

You could no longer ignore the heat that had risen up your neck, or the way your heart pounded in your chest. How and why did he make you feel like this, when you had been terrified not too long ago?

Before you could respond, you heard a knock on your door, causing you to flinch out of surprise.

Seonghwa glanced towards your door before he looked back at you. He tried to ignore the disappointment that filled his chest as you looked away from him. He hated interruptions.

"Your friend is back."

You looked from the door to him and he motioned his head for you to go. You slowly walked away, leaving the kitchen, and his line of sight, still uneasy due to his previous actions. He wasn't going to do anything to whoever was at the door was he?

Peeping out of the window, you saw San bouncing on his feet outside your door. You rose your brow as you wondered how Seonghwa had known it was one of your friends. And why were you referring to him as Seonghwa like you knew him??

As you disappeared from his sight Seonghwa looked down at the grimoire before picking it up. It really could do you good, if you learned more about your magic. But, as long as that incantation was in the back, he couldn't let you have it. Not if you might change your mind about letting him stay.

He could hear you answer the door, and knew you wouldn't say anything about his presence. If you did, you would just sound crazy, and he wouldn't be here to prove that wrong.

"Hey! I left my phone in the living room." San said as soon as you opened the door, before he rushed inside "I gotta get it before Wooyoung drives off without me."

"Oh, I can get it!"

He chuckled "That's okay, I'll be quick!" He called back as he headed past the kitchen where Seonghwa was.

You followed him, fear spiking through you, what would Seonghwa do? What would San do? As you rounded the corner, you saw San grabbing his phone from the table, while the kitchen was empty, Seonghwa no where in sight. Your eyes landed on the counter and your heart jumped. He had taken the book.

San grinned at you, "Got it! Sorry, I'll talk to you tomorrow okay?!" He called as he jogged out of the house and towards Wooyoung's car as he sat impatiently out front.

You looked around, wondering where Seonghwa had gone. Had he really left? You walked swiftly through your house and didn't find him. He had taken the book and vanished. Of course he would. That was the smart thing to do.

Your thoughts swam for a moment as your eyes stared blankly at where the book had been.

Why wouldn't he leave? I didn't command him to do anything and he just wanted to be free. And he took the book...because I could use it to send him back to...well wherever it was he came from.

You knew he was smart for taking the book, but why did he leave? And why did your chest ache because of it? Was he going to come back? Or was that the first and last time you would meet the black haired demon? Would you see him again years down the road when you die? Were you really descended from witches?

Thoughts plagued you as you sat on the couch. How had your day gone from so normal, to so earth-shatteringly complicated in the span of a few hours?

Slowly, without really noticing, you started to sink lower into the couch as your mind slowed, exhaustion from the adrenaline of your evening. Giving into it, mind foggy, you lied down, accepting sleep as it washed over you.

Maybe this was all a dream, and I've been asleep the whole time.

That was the last coherent thought that crossed your mind. So lost in the fog of sleep, you could barely register the sound of wings fluttering nearby, or the sound of footsteps approaching you. The soft caress of fingertips across your cheek might have shocked you if your mind had been more alert.

As your body became weightless, you stirred for only a moment before you drifted into a deep sleep.

When you woke the next morning the thoughts of the previous night rushed to your mind. There was no way that actually happened, right?

You sat up and looked down at yourself. You had never changed into your pajamas. In fact, you had fallen asleep on the couch, not in your bed. So, how were you in your bedroom now?

The image of Seonghwa appeared in your mind and your chest tightened.

It wasn't a dream, was it?

Walking out into your living room, your eyes scanned the room, before landing on the kitchen counter. Walking over you found the candle-holder you had thrown now sitting on the edge of the table. And the spot where you had placed the book was empty.

Would he come back? Should you wait?

No. No, I have a life, I can't sit and wait around for Death.

The sudden thought almost made you laugh. The thought would be more profound if it weren't a person you were referring too.

Deciding to get dressed and go to work, you tried not to focus on all of the new thoughts and questions plaguing your mind. But you found very little to distract yourself with. All day you looked around expecting to see Seonghwa watching you. Every time you heard the sound of a bird fly past your eyes darted around.

Was it just your mind that made you so paranoid? When every time you felt like you were being watched, or that someone was behind you even though no one was there. Was it just you? Or was it really him?

You weren't sure why, but you kept yourself so busy with work you stayed late. Then you decided to run errands that didn't even need to be done.

It was all because you were afraid to go home. But why, is what confused you. It wasn't that you were afraid he would show up, it was that you wanted him too.

You should be terrified, but you just wanted to know more. More about what or who he is. More about yourself and magic.

Was it morbid curiosity? Was it attraction to some form of darkness you didn't understand?

You hated that you couldn't sort your thoughts out. And all you felt was exhaustion by the time you finally got home. You ran out of things to keep you away, so you gave in.

As you stepped into your quite house, you looked around, checking each room casually before you let out a sigh and wandered over to the fridge.

He took the book, he is free to do what he wants, he's not coming back. Why would he?

Leaning down to look through the fridge, your whole body froze as the sound of fluttering wings came from behind you. Slowly, you stood up, before turning to peer over your shoulder.

You knew what you were going to see, but your heart still jumped as you set eyes on Seonghwa. He stared at you from across the room, a small smile on his face.

Slowly turning around, you closed the fridge as you stared at him in silence for a moment.

"And here I was beginning to wonder if you were ever real at all." You mumbled, trying to steady your heavy beating heart.

His small smile widened but he stayed silent.

Your eyes wandered to where the book had been and you met his eyes. "Wanted to make sure I couldn't send you back?"

He glanced to the kitchen counter and for a second you thought you saw guilt cross his face before he shrugged his head.

"Yes. Honestly I should have gotten rid of it last time, but I had no idea the incantation was written in the book itself."

"You could have just asked." You mumbled almost under your breath, and he noted the mild offense in your tone.

He looked you up and down and took a step closer before tilting his head. "Are you saying you wouldn't have done it?"

You laced your hands together behind your back as you kept eye contact with him. You walked away from the fridge and around the counter to face him straight on.

"I don't know. I'm still struggling to understand if this is all real or-"

"Or if you're going crazy?"

You nodded slowly as he finished your thought. Suddenly, he began walking towards you, you hesitated, only stepping back as he nearly ran into you. You let out a soft gasp as your back hit the wall.

You met his eyes in mild panic and uncertainty, but he simply stared into your eyes with a soft smile. His forehead nearly brushed yours as he got closer. Slowly, he lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles against the side of your face before cupping your cheek.

"Do you feel that?"

Your voice had vanished, but you nodded.

His other hand rubbed against your own before he laced his fingers through yours and held your hand.

"And that?"

You nodded again, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he could feel it himself.

He smiled before he slowly removed his hand and took a step back, "Then this is real, and you are not crazy"

Opening your mouth, you hesitated for second before you finally found your voice again. "Why did you come back?"

He stared at you for a moment before raising his brow.

"You took the book, I can't send you back, you're free to stay, just like you wanted. So why did you come back here?"

He kept his eyes locked with yours in silence for a moment before he hummed under his breath.

"I wondered that too, and I can come to only one conclusion."

You waited in silence, questioning him with your gaze. Your breath caught as he leaned forward again, closing the distance he had just put between you.

Seonghwa brought his face next to yours, as his breath tickled your ear.

"I want you."

Your eyes widened as you took in his words, but before you could respond a gust of air and the sound of fluttering wings caused you to flinch and blink in surprise. As you opened them again, he was gone, as though he had never been there at all.

You let out a staggered breath as the tension in your body released.

Taking everything in, you felt dizzy from the amount of thoughts passing through your head. But all of it came crashing down as you let out a bewildered breath and the only thing you could truly muster.

"What the fuck."

xx End xx

{Part Two}

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