#perfect for spooky szn

[tomewardbound]

"The night had no mistress but her." — Isabel Cañas, "Vampires of El Norte"

[hesitantmemories]

Anyways, speaking of books, I went to the library today and found dracul which I am VERY excited to read

[sugarcoated-lame]

He would have eaten her alive if he had come across her before she was turned, the sweet little thing she had been back then. Raking her nails along his chest, she reminds him swiftly of the now leveled playing field.

KATIE!!!!!! i loved every single second of this omg.. you captured the creepy, seductive vampire vibes, and the spooky vibes SO WELL . THE IMAGERY!!!!! Ugh and this might be the most delicious smut I’ve ever read. And the way Rhett is afraid of her, but still so drawn to her, it’s just so good!! And beautifully written, I’m obsessed 🫠❤️

The Taste of the Divine | Rhett Abbott (18+)

There’s something wrong with the Abbott land. Something bad about it, it’s clear as day. Angered and maybe on the wrong side of tipsy, Rhett stumbles across something — someone — he shouldn’t have out on the West pasture.

Warnings: vampire reader, race inclusive so ignore the header, written third person with she/her pronouns. Blood, lots of blood, biting, drinking, consuming — yaknow— vampire stuff. Oral (f receiving) and unprotected pinv. Kind of dubcon in that rhett is scared and horny but still down for what’s happening, wc 5.4k

…

“There’s a weird lady out on the West pasture!”

Cecelia’s nerves are already shot to pieces, what with her two terraway boys and all the trouble they’ve managed to cause both recently and over the almost three decade span of their lives. The crash of the door swinging open and banging into her wallpaper, followed by the thundering clap of Amy’s mud-caked boots along her hardwood floors, and then the true snarl of the thunder that rages on outside.

She drops the plate into the sink, suds and soapy water splashing onto the countertops and tile. Curling her hands around the granite, she inhales slowly and closes her eyes.

Royal jolts awake from his nap in his recliner, his rheumatic hands flinching as they clench around the now warm bottle of his beer. Rhett glances up from the shotty news cast on the television as she wizzes past him towards the kitchen.

She’s met with a dubious gaze from her father at the kitchen table and an eye roll that she isn’t supposed to have caught from her grandmother.

“There was!” Amy insists, her voice shrill and panicked as she stomps her boot into the floor and splatters her own muddy footprint. “She was staring right at me! — And she was dressed weird!”

Royal shakes his head and rubs at the bridge of his nose. He exhales all of his irritations out into the room and narrows his eyes at his youngest son, “Don’t worry, princess. Rhett’ll go check it out.”

Rhett scoffs and sinks back further into the arm chair, shaking his head, “No he won’t. Maybe her dad’ll do it.”

“You’ll do it.” Royal stares right ahead at Rhett, serious and stone-faced. “You’re the one who showed her that damn scary movie.”

The young cowboy growls in frustration as his truck plows through the storm, mud plastering the wheels and the paint job. Fucking Amy and her wacky fucking imagination.

He checks damn near the whole west pasture. It’s dark out, pouring with rain. If there was a woman out here, she’d probably be making her way to the house by now anyway.

It’s after he has already given up on looking and decided to come back that he spots it. The herd separated from one of the cows. He drives a little closer for a better look. It’s on its side — dead. He sighs, knowing that Royal will just be pissed about this too. He turns his head and catches movement in his peripheral. Looking back towards the cow, he sees it. The figure hunched over the animal.

Rhett squints, trying to look through the glaring white of his headlights. There’s a figure amongst the herd, he can’t quite see what it is. Hunched over one of the cattle like a damn animal, but it’s not shaped right to be a wolf. His better judgement tells him to stay in the truck.

Chilled fingers reaching out across the bench beside him, they curl around the butt of the shotgun. Brows furrowing, his eyes never once leave the contorted figure. Its shadow through the light tells Rhett that it’s moving, but it’s not right. It isn’t moving… right. Not like any kind of predator he has ever seen.

Being out here in the wide open, with the beams glaring right at this fucking thing, and it isn’t bothered in the slightest. Usually the wolves would be spooked by the lights or the sound of the engine. Not whatever is in front of him now.

Perry used to tell Rhett stories about this kind of thing. Figures lurking out in the pasture, things that weren’t human and wanted to hurt him. Older now, not the same angry little boy staring at the shadows on his wall with his covers pulled up over his face, it’s dismaying to realize that the same stomach-sick, cold kind of feeling washes over him.

Instinct. Royal says that Rhett didn’t inherit a damn ounce of it. But he did. He knows how to keep himself alive. Even after he hits the ground after getting tossed off a bull and it feels like he can physically feel his brain swelling and heart struggling to keep him going, instinct has always pushed him onto his feet and out of that heaving creature’s way. It tells him now to just shift the gears and go back the way he had come. Something tells him that it won’t follow.

Not even sure that he’s still breathing, he sits forwards and tries to make out what it is. It’s not right to be scared of the dark at his age. Of a fucking monster that Amy thinks she saw. Not a monster — a woman. He squints again, tilting his head just slightly. It can’t be a woman. Tearing apart that poor thing in front of it like it’s a sheet of paper. No human could rip through muscle and bone and tendon like that.

Too small to be a bear, not shaped right to be a young one either. It’s not a fucking wolf. He has no idea what it is. But he’ll be damned if he lets it kill off half the herd just for sport. If he could see better, maybe if it was a clearer night or if the rain wasn’t soaking the windshield, he’d be able to see the methodical way that the creature has picked apart its prey. Not sport. Survival.

Rhett’s calloused hand curls around the shotgun, his other grabbing the latch on the door handle. Perry was always more scared of his own damn stories than Rhett ever was.

The sound of the rain amplifies as he swings open the truck door, letting his right leg follow it. His boot touches down into the soaked mud, sliding just slightly before he’s even out. Adjusting the cap on his head, the door swings shut behind him and he tightens his grip on the door stock wrist, gripping the fore end of the gun with his other hand. He lifts the stock up to his cheek and takes a step forwards.

Even out here, Rhett can’t quite make out what he’s looking at. Doubled over and clawing at the flesh of the animal in front of it, he can’t even tell where the cow ends and the creature begins. Jagged-movements, snarling like a wolf, strength like a bear.

“Hey!” It’s a big of a sound as his tightened lungs will let him make. Not meek, it’s deep and graveled. It has scared off bigger animals before. It’s a mistake.

The snarling stops, it doesn’t get any less loud. Rain beating into the ground around him, soaking his clothes and chilling his skin. His heartbeat thudding in his ears is probably the loudest thing for miles.

Like an abstract painting, what is in front of him is just one of those things that doesn’t make any sense until you catch glimpse of that one part that tells you exactly what you’re looking at. Slender fingers braced on either side of the torn open chest cavity, resting still.

The sky and horizon black around it, solely illuminated by the beams of Rhett’s headlights, the creature finally looks up, grinning.

Mouth soaked, chin dripping with blood. Eyes red too, a deeper, more furious colour than the blood that coats her skin. A woman. No longer contorted strangely forwards, her head tilts as she stares right at his face. He’s right — his heartbeat is the loudest thing for miles.

She’s on her knees, pressed into the mud, devouring an animal twice her size. There’s something in her eyes that Rhett doesn’t recognise. He blinks slowly, fingers curling tighter around the shotgun. Rhett has never been looked at by anything the way that she — this thing — is looking at him now.

“What the…” His boots slip in the soaked mud, it cakes the soles and sides, threatening to swallow his footing in the marshy ground if he doesn’t move more cautiously.

She’s barely human looking, there’s something sinister in the reds of her eyes that makes Rhett’s stomach flip. His body carries him backwards quickly enough that his feet start to slip in the mud and the barrel of the gun falters away from the red, splattered target she has made for herself on her chest.

Her lips quirk further at the sides, her grin stretching as he stumbles back from her. Her pointed tongue, a deep crimson as it lifts forwards and cleans the blood from her teeth. She presses her weight forwards onto her palms like she’s going to stand.

Blue eyes widening, his heartbeat falters and amusement covers her chilling features as he drops the gun all together. The safety wasn’t even off. His hands fumble from the door, boots slipping in the mud, rain pouring down his back. With a panting breath, he finishes his sentence. “Fuck?”

Her stomach tightens, reminding her of why she was out here feasting on damn cattle in the first place. She’s so. Fucking. Thirsty. Something in her eyes changes. Rhett recognises the exact moment that he stops being entertainment and instead, becomes prey. It’s not something that he has ever been before, and yet, his body knows exactly what to do. Instinct. Something primal, maybe.

She reaches up and wipes her chin on her forearm, finished with the dead animal in front of her. Primal seems like the right word.

He glances up to the sky, pitch black and still pouring with rain like the heavens have opened up. That seems right too. It’s the first time that his eyes leave her since she has looked up, and he doesn’t dare look back. He tears open the door to the truck and hastens inside, locking the doors and fumbling for the key in the ignition.

He catches hold of the cold metal and looks ahead. She’s standing now. Looking right at him. It’s a little too bright to see with the headlights on, but there’s something disarming about the way she’s looking at him. Blood gone from her chin but still covering her chest, her arms, her hands. It’s the first time that Rhett notices what she’s wearing.

A plain white nightgown, cotton, soaked through and clinging, almost sheer to her body. It comes down to her mid-shins, torn around there. Satin woven through the neckline of it. It’s old — he can’t place it to a certain time period, but it isn’t from this one. Blood and rain mix together to saturate the material, evidence of what she has done lingering on its threads even as the rain washes her skin clean.

She’s barefoot. She must be freezing.

A sick feeling fills him as he realizes that she has drawn closer. That he can see that she is barefoot because she has stepped around the carcass and is walking towards him. He hadn’t even noticed.

His fingers curl tighter around the key but he doesn’t turn it. He just watches. The softened, almost timid look on her face as she stalks towards the truck, bathed in the white glow of the headlights. Still stained in red.

As she reaches the hood, she leans forwards and rests her palms on it. Rhett glances down, remembering the way her slender fingers had been braced on either side of the cow, nails sunk into its flesh. He swallows, blinking hard and forcing his fingers to move. The engine splutters.

Looking back up, his eyes study her face. She’s looking right at him, drenched. Scared. Out here all on her own. He doesn’t try the key again. It occurs briefly to him that something is wrong — that the sick, dreadful feeling had flooded away the second he met her now dark, but not red, gaze.

“Rhett.” She says his name like a prayer. A baited sigh, pleasant and desperate all at once. He blinks at her waiting at the hood of his truck. She tilts her head as he swallows, watching his adam’s apple rise and fall in his throat, listening to the blood gush through his veins. It was the name that the little girl had cried out earlier. She knows that it’s his name.

She mimics his swallow and reminds herself to blink. It freaks them out when she forgets to do that. He’s calmer already, but he’s afraid of her. Her lips almost quirk. He’s smart, he knows better. And yet — as she passes around to the passenger side, he makes no effort to try the key again.

Rhett slides further along the truck bench, pressing his back to the driver’s side door as she watches him through the passenger side window. She curls her fingers around the door handle and it complies with a quiet, effortless snap.

She looks up quickly as his breathing hitches. She shouldn’t be able to hear it from that side of the door, but she does. She shouldn’t have been able to snap the lock like this, but she did.

The door clicks open with no resistance, and Rhett finally gets a good look at her face. His brows furrow slightly as he looks her over, those sweet little features and those big, trusting eyes. He can’t remember why he locked the door in the first place.

“Rhett?” She moves fluidly now. As her gaze breaks from his to watch herself kneel on the truck bed, Rhett remembers. He catches sight of the almost washed away blood on her forearms. He looks quickly back towards the torn apart cow a couple feet from the truck. He remembered her jagged, twitching, animalistic movements. The truck door closes behind her. On her knees, she slides delicately across the bench and rests her hand against his.

She’s soaked, but her hands are warm. She curls her fingers around his palm, lifting it from the leather. His attention turns back towards her, arms tense, breathing shallow. Her lips quirk softly, almost sweetly, as she brings his bruised knuckles to her crimson-tinged lips and kisses softly.

Bringing it back down slowly, she rests his hand in her lap, against the soaked material of that strange nightgown. Next, she lifts her hand and strokes it along the length of his neck, smoothing his hair back away from his jugular. “You don’t have to be afraid.” She tells him calmly.

With every fiber of his being, he believes her. He believes that he doesn’t have to be afraid, but he is anyway. He’s afraid of what he saw, and what she is — plenty of things all at once.

Leaning closer, his scent is intoxicating, her mouth waters as her nose brushes against the stubble on his jaw. Rhett slams his eyes shut, suddenly wishing that he was a kid again, with covers to pull up to his chin, and his parents to tell him that he was going to be alright.

Her throat squeezes, desperate. She presses her lips tenderly to his skin, feeling his pulse under her. Pulling back, she hooks a finger under his jaw and turns his head towards her.

With his eyes on her again, he’s unafraid. Handsome. Pretty, blue eyes with long lashes, sun-soaked skin but in the kind of way that demonstrates hard work. A few centuries ago, she would’ve adored him. Now, it’s enough to just soothe his fears. She sits forwards and presses her lips softly to his cheek, pulling back and doing the same to the other one.

He doesn’t flinch. She can feel how badly she wants her touch, even with his trembling hands still rigid on his thighs. She takes his hand again, this time placing it over her breast through the sheer material.

Rhett’s brows furrow, he searches her face for answers and finds none. She leans into him again, this time kissing his lips. His hand remains stationary, unmoving, frozen. His lips move just the tiniest amount, chasing her kiss.

He had been expecting her to taste like blood, but she doesn’t. She smells expensive and she doesn’t taste like anything at all.

Rhett watches as she pulls back long enough to curl her fingers into the hem of the nightdress, peeling it up her body and letting it fall into the footwell. Kneeling before him, completely bare, she leans in again and kisses him tenderly.

His hand flexes against her hip, curling around her skin, feeling the warmth under his palm. Unmistakably human. He kisses her, fingers pressing into her sides.

“It won’t hurt,” She promises him, smoothing her open palm along his clothed chest. Wordlessly, Rhett understands what she is asking of him. He knows what hunger looks like. She kisses him again, more desperately this time, her fingertips trailing the dampened stitching of his jeans along the inseam of his thigh. Pulling back, she nips softly at his earlobe, feeling him shiver. “You give yourself to me, and I’ll give myself to you.”

Again, he understands what he is agreeing to. Her eyes are more red than they were before, her thumb stroking along the column of his neck. She’s intoxicating up close.

“Rhett?” She prompts him, smoothing her hand over his crotch, featherlight as she kisses his lips again. One more taste and she might just lose her mind. The flush in his skin makes her throat dry. The smell of his hair, his skin, the day that he has had. She growls lowly as he presses forwards and kisses her hard, grabbing at the back of her neck.

Almost eighty years of rest — her thirst nips at her nerves, fingers flexing against his shoulder blades as he covers her body with his, a silent reminder that he is still the one at her mercy here.

Her tongue trails the length of his jugular, as far as it spans along his throat. She kisses him feverishly as his rough, calloused hands explore her smooth skin. Not a scratch on her. Like she was just dropped out here, in the middle of nowhere.

It’s been a while since she has had sex, even longer since she has had sex with a human. She had almost forgotten how eager they were. The beat of his heart against her bare chest is practically an aphrodisiac.

“I need something soon,” She murmurs into his neck, kissing it tenderly as she pushes his open button down back off of his shoulders. Rhett nods as he drops his head down to her chest, suckling at her warm skin. She pushes her fingers into his hair as he nips at her navel. “You aren’t scared, are you, cowboy?”

Rhett looks up at her from where he’s situated between her legs. Rugged, flushed with life, a spark of amusement in those wild blue eyes. It sparks her with envy as she sits up quickly. A little too quickly, something unhuman in the swiftness of it.

“No.” Rhett tells her. She catches hold of his jaw, nostrils flaring briefly. He should be. His hand smooths along her hip. “It’s okay. Go ‘head.”

She softens, not turning her head away from his throat. It’s not his fault, she supposes. She thinks of his family, hearing them pottering around their little home miles away — not thinking of him, out here, all alone with her. She thinks of her own family, long gone now, but not dissimilar to his.

“‘M gonna make it feel good, Rhett,” She says softly, honeyed cadence and soft lips as they gaze his throat. He closes his eyes and waits. Her index finger pressed to his throat, a discreet spot right below his jaw. The nail presses into his skin and drags, splitting the flesh. Blood spills from the cut immediately. Rhett gasps softly as she lurches forwards and presses her mouth to it.

She sucks the fresh blood from his neck, warm and sweet on her tongue — she should’ve known that a gruff looking cowboy like him would taste sweeter than honey.

He grunts as her palm cups his crotch through his jeans, using the meat of her palm to grind against his hardening cock. His eyes flutter closed as he tongue flicks over the small cut, still sucking at the crimson liquid.

Rhett curls a hand into her hair, holding at the base of her neck, keeping her against him. “S-Shit,” He pants out, grinding his hips up into her palm, leaning his head back in surrender. “Oh.”

Her free hand curls into his hair and tugs, exposing more of his throat to him, making him groan. His fingers smooth softly over the nape of her neck, she reminds herself to be gentle with him.

Licking away the remaining blood, she presses her thumb to the small cut to stop the bleeding. He kisses her slowly, slipping his tongue into her mouth. This time, he does taste copper, but he doesn’t mind it that much. She makes it worth tasting.

He glances down at her blood-soaked skin, the remnants left of what the rain wasn’t fast enough to wash away. He knows that he should be afraid of what’s coming, but he isn’t.

She reminds herself to move slowly and to breathe, to blink, as she takes the cap from his head and discards it, moving into his lap. Bracketing his hips with her thighs, she curls her fingers into his white undershirt, lips quirking. It’s not the same smile as earlier, that gutwrenchingly terrifying grin, but it’s enough to remind him to be afraid.

Her nails press into the material, tearing it with ease. It splits at the middle and down the sides. She discards it with little care, pressing her bare chest against his, carding her fingers through his brown locks as he kisses her. Desperate for that taste again, his lips chase hers. She gives it to him graciously, caressing his tongue with hers. Desperate for more than that, quite clearly.

He’s rock hard against the denim of his jeans, breathing hard through his nose as his hands grope at her still-wet skin. They stop briefly, finding purchase on the curve of her ass, using his human strength to angle her hips and rock his hardened cock against her core.

He would have eaten her alive if he had come across her before she was turned, the sweet little thing she had been back then. Raking her nails along his chest, she reminds him swiftly of the now leveled playing field.

Rhett thinks that this is just like every other girl he has been with — she feels it in his movements. The experienced, cool way that he knows how to touch a woman. Curious — how the times had changed.

The last human she had been with hadn’t paid her nearly this much attention. Maybe this is just Rhett, maybe it’s a new fad. If he lives, perhaps she’ll ask him. She hums, somewhat contentedly, as his nimble fingers work circles on her clit. Still in his jeans and not even asking her to touch him. Truly, curious.

Her reaction isn’t what Rhett is looking for. The soft hums of approval, it’s not enough, it’s not worth the ice-cold fear in his chest. She inhales sharply, a purely symbolic measure, as he turns them both and presses her back into the leather of the truck bench.

He’s got a dirty mouth for a farm boy. Wet, open-mouthed feverish kisses on every inch of skin that he can get his lips on. His trail of filthy kisses continues, his thin nose grazing her sternum as his mouth works towards her navel. His hands are strong and capable, holding her in place by your ribs. As much as she will let him, anyway.

Experienced and well-knowledged about sex by this point in her immortality, she can detect his eagerness in his movements, his desperation to please in the way his tongue moves against her skin. It's sweet. He’s good at it. It’s been a long time since someone has burned for her in the way that this rugged cowboy clearly does.

His hands trail from her hips, up and along her warm sides. Calloused hands roam her flawless skin. Move up and back down again. He revels in the feeling of her under his fingertips, on the tip of his tongue.

She lets the cowboy have his fun. It’s fun for her too, to still be surprised, even after all of this time. It’s not the first time that a man has buried his head between her legs, but it’s the first time that she hasn’t been just waiting for it to be over. Rhett knows what he’s doing. His hands grope at her chest as he sucks at the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.

She cums, shuddering against his tongue, curling her fingers into his hair, making him hiss. Rhett grins at her as she releases him. There is plenty that she knows about him, but he knows what he did just then.

He’s cocky for someone who’s life is no longer in their own hands, warming up to her too much. This happens frequently. A handsome young man with a troublesome smile, and the wolfish woman ready to tear them apart.

Rhett pops open the buckle on his jeans and pushes them down his thighs. Her eyes burn red, crimson lips quirked at the edges as she spreads her thighs for him. Her hand slides between her legs, two fingers dragging along her folds and gathering her juices on the digits.

“God.” Rhett breathes out, covering her body with his, fingers curling tight into her hips. She smiles into the crook of his neck, kissing the taut skin tenderly, feeling his pulse under her lips.

“He can’t help you now, Rhett.” Her breath fans over his ear as she speaks, making him shudder. Turning his head, she kisses his lips. Slow, longing. Like a goodbye.

He groans softly as he presses into her, the storm raging on outside of the truck, wind slamming cold rain into the windows. Her lips are warm against his throat as she hums softly. Her fingers card through the lengths of his hair and along the muscles in his back.

Rhett rocks his hips back and forth gently — she almost scoffs — he’s concerned about hurting her. “More.” She tells him, her nails digging into his skin. Rhett exhales slowly and drives his hips into her.

To her surprise, he lifts his head to look at her. Studying her face, her reactions to the way that he moves. She moans softly, as he tugs at her hips, angling himself against her g-spot. Rhett’s grip tightens, keeping her there as he fucks into her again and again. This predator, much stronger than he is, completely at his mercy, moaning against his throat.

“You want it?” Rhett mumbles against her skin, grunting softly as he snaps his hips into hers. She gasps back. “Bite me, darlin’ — s’alright.”

She moans, an excited sound as he tugs at the lengths of his brunet hair. “I want it.” She tells him, grazing her teeth, featherlight against the oh, so breakable skin.

The truck is filled with their sounds as she lets another delighted cry out, surprising herself. She pants, squeezing her thighs around his hips. He reminds her so much of someone that she knew. Someone that she misses so dearly. It’s why she didn’t snap his neck out there in the rain. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she pulls him closer. He looks down between their bodies, watching as his cock fills her over and over.

“I want you, Rhett.” She decides, something primal and possessive in her voice. Her fingertips trail the stubble on his jaw as she tips his chin to look at her. He nods blindly.

“You got me, darlin’.” He kisses her mouth, another filthy little exchange that’s all tongue, moaning and panting. She grins against him, pressing her heel into the small of his back. “Whatever you need.”

Fingers curling around the muscle of his jaw, her strength braces him there, steady. She leans in close and inhales slowly, savouring this delicious scent. Rhett gasps as her teeth sink into his throat, hips stuttering and slamming forwards. She moans at the feeling, blood trickling down her chin.

She grabs desperately at the back of his neck, not wanting to spill a drop, liquid gold on her tongue. Not only because it has been so long, but because it’s him. Rhett’s fingers curl tighter into her hair, struggling to keep up with the pace of his thrusts as his eyes squeeze shut, muscles tensing.

His body’s natural reaction tells him that he is in danger, but danger has never felt this good. It’s like he can feel every ounce of her desire for him, pulsing through his veins when she’s attached to him like this. His arms squeeze around her middle, desperate to have her closer.

She squeezes her legs tighter around his hips, crying out his name in her mind, moaning against his throat. Her fingers curl into those long locks at the nape of his neck, feeling his blood lubricate that excruciating burn in her throat. Her stomach tightens at the thought.

Devotion. Sustaining her like this, fucking her like this — he’s right, he is all hers. Those people back at the house have all already gone to bed without so much as checking if he was alive. He wouldn’t be, if not for her mercy, and his wonderful mouth.

Hers. She licks a stripe along throat, gathering the spilled blood and lifting her chin to kiss his mouth. He accepts her kiss hungrily, sucking at her tongue greedily. Entirely hers. As their lips part, she goes right back to his neck, biting again, feeling her stomach tighten as his hips stutter.

She bites him harder, feeling him tense up, knowing that she’s hurting him. His blood spills freely into her mouth, gushing onto her tongue and out of the corners of her lips.

“Fuck!” Rhett grunts, feeling her walls clenching around him. The honeyed taste of his blood, the sound of his gravelled voice in her ear, the life flowing through his veins. Her back arches up off of the truck bench as she hits the peak of her climax and spills right over it.

There are a few more, erratic, desirous thrusts before the cowboy is spent, spilling into her. Wrapping the monster tight in his arms, forehead braced against her bloodied collarbone.

“I’m sorry,” She smooths her fingers through his hair delicately, licking the last few drops of blood that spill from the teeth marks on his neck. “Rhett.”

He’s dizzy and warm, burning warm, in fact. He squeezes her softly in his arms, closing his eyes for just a moment. He should have expected to be tired, but not like this. It’s like an anaesthetic— he feels sleep come for him and there’s nothing that he can do to fight it.

It crosses his mind briefly that it could be worse than sleep, but he isn’t afraid for it.

“Damn it, Rhett!” The curtains are drawn open sharply, making him flinch. He growls and pulls the covers up over his sensitive eyes. “We’re going to be late for church!”

Cecilia storms out of the room and slams the door behind her. Rhett sits up in his bed and presses the base of his palm into his eye socket, rubbing tiredly. He glances towards the window and squints at the light cascading across the floor, not quite reaching his bed.

He falls back against the comfort of his mattress and exhales slowly. Fucking weird dream. He shifts, hoping to find sleep again, feeling a soft discomfort at the bottom of his throat. Brows furrowing, he swallows and flinches at the white hot pain that passes through his nerves. His brows scrunch as he sits sharply upright again.

He looks towards the window and brings a hand up to cup his throat. His gaze falls down to his boots by the door, caked in mud and bloodied.

…

@fudge13 @hangmanscoming @hexpectations @bradshawseresinbabe @xoxabs88xox @topgunbiqueen @perpetuelledaydreaming @thedroneranger @noorsworlr @princess76179 @phoenix1388 @astronomeoww @cherrycola27 @wkndwlff

[simplygojo]

Haunted Party - Nanami Kento

Author's Note: Hey gang, I have FINALLY finished all my kinktober fics (do not expect any smut from me anymore LMAO) and have finished it off with an entry for @fizee's Fic-Or-Treat event!!! I HOPE ONE OF YOU LIKE THIS I GOT HORRID WRITERS BLOCK <3

Fic-Or-Treat

Spooky Szn Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x f!reader

Word Count: 3.6K

Kinktober Taglist: @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, fingering, semi-public sex, haunted encounters.

The insurance company you worked for had a reputation for hosting some of the most extravagant Halloween parties. 

Every year, they outdid themselves, turning lavish venues into eerie, haunted wonderlands filled with masked guests, dark costumes, and enough mystery to last until the next morning. This year was no different. 

The theme was a "Haunted Royal Court," and the moment you arrived at the grand mansion, you could feel the weight of the night—luxurious yet unsettling, the perfect setting for an evening that would inevitably end in indulgence.

The chandeliers in the dimly lit entrance hall flickered ominously as you stepped inside, your heels clicking softly on the marble floor. 

Cobwebbed tapestries lined the walls, the candlelight casting ghostly shadows over the guests mingling in their regal, haunted costumes. 

A subtle sense of unease lingered in the air, but you knew that wasn’t just because of the atmosphere. It was because of him.

Kento Nanami.

Last Halloween had been the first–and last–time something had happened between you two. 

The party that year had been just as extravagant, and after hours of drinks and stolen glances, the tension had exploded in a way you hadn’t expected. 

By the end of the night, you’d found yourself in the parking lot, pressed up against his sleek black car, Nanami’s hands gripping your hips while his lips claimed yours in a moment of raw desire. 

His usually composed demeanour had crumbled as the two of you fucked right there, under the cover of darkness, driven by alcohol and an unspoken need that neither of you had ever acknowledged. 

But after that night, things had gone back to normal. 

You didn’t talk about it. Neither of you had brought up the rushed, heated encounter that left your skin tingling for days. In fact…you practically never saw him in the office after that.

Maybe you both had reasons to pretend it didn’t happen, but the memory of his hands on you, his voice strained with lust, had never left your mind.

And now, at this year’s Halloween party, the tension between you was back—stronger than ever.

You adjusted the delicate lace sleeves of your gown, the dark fabric clinging to your curves in a way that felt both seductive and spectral. 

The plunging neckline and sheer accents added a haunting allure, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit dangerous tonight. 

A part of you wanted to see if Nanami would react the same way as last time, if the restraint that held him together would snap again.

As you stepped fully into the grand ballroom, you felt the weight of gazes tracing over you, lingering with curious admiration. 

But one gaze felt different—intense, familiar, like a charged current that sparked every nerve ending to life. 

You didn’t need to look to know it was him. 

Even without meeting his eyes, you could feel Nanami’s attention on you, piercing through the other looks, as if he alone saw through the elaborate dress, the poised demeanour, right to the anticipation simmering beneath.

Adjusting the delicate lace sleeves of your gown, you let your fingers trail along the fabric, subtly drawing attention to the plunging neckline and the way the dark fabric moulded to your curves. 

The gown was intricate yet daring, the sheer lace accents and shadowy hue creating an otherworldly allure that left you feeling more alive than you had in weeks. 

You couldn’t help the shiver of satisfaction as you caught the faintest glimpse of Nanami’s gaze darkening from across the room. 

The way his jaw clenched, the subtle tightening of his grip around the glass in his hand—it was the only confirmation you needed.

You moved with graceful ease, mingling through the crowd, chatting with a few coworkers who complimented your costume or shared a laugh over the elaborate decorations. 

But even as you kept the conversation light and easy, your senses were hyper-focused on him, tracking his every move through the room, waiting to see if he would approach. 

You could’ve sworn that you saw a few of your female coworkers throw subtle glances in Nanami’s direction—though whether out of respect for his commanding presence or curiosity about the mysterious aura he carried, you weren’t sure.

Eventually, you found yourself near his group, standing with a small cluster of colleagues by the dimly lit bar where he was seated. 

The moment stretched taut as you casually joined their conversation, exchanging pleasantries and soft laughter with the others. 

Your body hummed with awareness, every fibre of you attuned to his presence. Yet neither of you acknowledged the other. 

The deliberate silence was its own kind of foreplay, unspoken and electric, drawing out the tension until it felt almost unbearable.

Every now and then, as you sipped your drink or listened to a story from a coworker, you’d feel his gaze drift in your direction, lingering just a second too long. 

You swore you could feel his eyes trailing over the slope of your neck, the bare skin exposed by the daring cut of your gown, down to the curve of your waist.

And each time, your pulse quickened, your heartbeat echoing loud enough that you were sure someone nearby might hear.

The memory of that night in the dark, pressed against his car, his hands possessive on your body, his breath hot and ragged as he murmured your name—it was all there, simmering beneath the surface.

And as you laughed at a joke someone told, you sensed him shifting closer, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a magnetic pull. 

You dared a sideways glance, catching a glimpse of the way his eyes roamed over you, his expression unreadable but filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Without a word, Nanami’s hand brushed against yours—a feather-light touch, barely noticeable to anyone else, but enough to send sparks up your arm. 

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you forgot the others around you, lost in the silent promise that lingered in his gaze.

He stood beside you now, stoic in his ghostly nobleman’s attire, the sharp lines of his suit tailored perfectly to his broad frame. 

His pale makeup gave him a haunting, refined edge, and despite the eerie theme of the evening, Nanami still exuded his usual calm intensity. 

You hadn’t spoken much since you arrived, but his presence was enough to stir the familiar tension. You could feel his gaze on you occasionally, lingering, just as it had last year.

It was almost as if you were playing a game—seeing who would break first.

By the time you needed some air and a break from the meaningless small talk, your heart was already pounding with anticipation. 

You excused yourself from the mingling crowd, stepping toward the grand staircase that led to the quieter, upper levels of the mansion. 

The dim lighting cast long shadows over the bannisters, and the flickering candles added an almost supernatural glow to the space.

As you ascended the steps, you heard the familiar, steady sound of footsteps behind you. 

You didn’t need to turn to know it was him.

Nanami’s presence filled the stairwell as he caught up, his larger frame moving with quiet determination. 

He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel the tension building with each passing second.

"You left without saying anything," he finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the stillness. 

It wasn’t accusatory, but there was something heavier beneath the words, something that made your pulse quicken.

You stopped on the landing, leaning against the banister with a teasing smile. "Didn’t think you’d notice."

As his steady footsteps echoed closer, your pulse quickened, and you couldn’t resist a sly smile. 

You tilted your head, watching the flicker of something guarded—yet unmistakably intrigued—in his gaze. 

Nanami stopped a few steps below, just close enough that you could see the subtle shifts in his expression, the guarded way he held himself in check. 

His presence filled the narrow stairwell, quiet but commanding, and though he didn’t say anything right away, you felt his gaze take in every detail—the curve of your lips, the way the dark lace of your dress clung to your body.

His mouth quirked as his eyes snapped back up to yours, almost imperceptibly. "I notice plenty."

The words were simple, but the way his gaze swept over you made them feel like a confession. 

He took another step forward, and the dim lighting cast shadows that accentuated his strong jawline, his broad shoulders filling the space with an effortless elegance. 

His suit jacket cut perfectly to fit him, every inch of his appearance meticulously sharp, and for a moment, you almost lost your train of thought watching him approach.

He took another step, and then another, each movement careful, deliberate, like he was savouring every second of closing the space between you.

His eyes never left yours, and you could see the way he drank in every detail—how you stood just above him, the way your gown framed your silhouette against the stairwell’s low light. 

It was almost like he wanted to memorize the sight of you, his stare unwavering, intent.

"You’re making it pretty damn hard not to notice, y/n." He said, his tone low, soft but with an edge that sent a thrill down your spine. 

There was something dangerous in the way he looked at you now, the restraint in his gaze barely holding.

Your lips curved in a teasing smile as he drew closer, the heat in his gaze kindling your own excitement. 

"Funny, I didn’t think you were paying attention."

Nanami’s lips parted, just the slightest bit, and his eyes narrowed, his expression still calm but undeniably intrigued. 

"Is that what you want to believe?" He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your form one more time before returning to your eyes.

Every step he took up those marble steps sent a wave of tension curling through you, the anticipation building to an unbearable peak. 

And then he was only a step away, his gaze still locked with yours, his figure looming with a quiet authority that made the stairwell feel impossibly small.

A soft chuckle slipped past your lips, and you couldn’t help but lean in just a bit, closing the small space between you. 

"You know," you said, your tone laced with challenge, "I almost thought you were avoiding me tonight."

Nanami’s gaze held yours as he finally reached you on the landing, and the corners of his mouth turned up in the slightest of smirks. 

"Avoiding you would be the sensible thing to do," he murmured, the faintest trace of dry humour slipping into his voice. 

"But you’re not very good at doing the sensible thing, are you?"

He let out a soft sigh, but his eyes betrayed him, lingering on the curve of your neck, the lace edging that skimmed over your collarbone before returning to your eyes. 

"With you," he replied, the restraint in his voice palpable, "it’s difficult."

The confession, quiet yet so unmistakably Nanami, made your heart beat faster. 

You couldn’t help but lean closer, the anticipation thrumming between you both like a live wire. 

"I don’t mind making things difficult," you whispered, your voice just for him.

His fingers brushed along your waist, steady yet unmistakably possessive, as he looked at you with that same intense gaze he wore in the field—sharp, unyielding, and thoroughly focused. 

"I know you don’t." 

His words were soft, almost indulgent, but his hand tightened ever so slightly, as if warning himself not to give in.

You let your fingers lightly graze the lapel of his jacket, watching as his focus flickered to the touch, his own calm facade beginning to show cracks.

For a moment, the air felt thick, every shared glance and whispered word drawing you further into his orbit. 

The faint lights of the stairwell cast a warm glow, leaving the world outside forgotten, as if you two were the only ones here.

Nanami's hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, his fingers firm and confident as he pulled you flush against him. 

His gaze held yours with a powerful intensity, and the way he looked at you now was entirely unguarded—no walls, no restraint. 

The flickering tension in his eyes had morphed into something resolute, an unspoken promise of what was about to unfold.

Without a word, his hand found the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair with a possessive strength that made your breath hitch. He leaned down, his mouth inches from yours, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, the air thick with the silent demand. 

His lips brushed your ear, his voice low and commanding.

"You’ve wanted this, haven’t you?" His words weren’t a question but a statement, one that sent a thrill through you as his grip tightened ever so slightly.

Before you could answer, his mouth met yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. His lips moved with a hunger you hadn’t seen before, a raw, undeniable desire that left you breathless. 

His other hand slid up your waist, his touch heavy and possessive, fingers digging into your hip as he drew you closer. 

Your breaths became shallow, and you kissed him back desperately, going up on your tippy toes just to get a mere few centimetres closer.

When he broke the kiss, his gaze was darker, the restraint that usually tempered him nowhere to be seen. 

His thumb traced the line of your jaw, his grip firm as he tilted your head to look up at him, his own eyes narrowed in focus.

His voice was a hushed growl, each word laced with an intensity that made your pulse race. 

"God, you are the most beautiful living thing I have ever laid my eyes on," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek, rough and deliberate. 

There was a fierce possession in his gaze, something raw and electric that left you feeling completely at his mercy.

Without another word, his hand slipped beneath the fabric at your waist, fingers splaying across your hip as he lifted you effortlessly against the wall. 

Your legs instinctively wrapped around him, and he pressed against you, his touch steady yet undeniably commanding, his body anchoring yours in place. 

His lips found your neck again, marking a trail along your skin as his grip tightened, each kiss firm–posessive.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on.

His hand slid higher along your thigh, fingers gripping firmly, as if he were staking his claim on every inch of you. 

The last shred of restraint slipped from him as his hand found its way under your dress, and he hooked his fingers around the fabric, shifting it aside gently only to insert his fingers in you with such dominance. 

As soon as you felt his fingers stretch you out, you let out a loud gasp into the echoing hallway.

His other hand cupped the back of your neck, drawing your mouth to his in another searing kiss, one that left you breathless and desperate for more.

You could feel the controlled power in every movement he made, every flex of his fingers, his touch radiating an intensity that made you feel alive, like you were the center of his world in that moment.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He muttered, his voice a quiet, fervent rasp as his fingers attempted to memorize the feel of your warmth, his restraint slipping more with every word, every touch. 

With a low growl, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you feeling momentarily empty until he undid his belt, his movements steady yet purposeful, his gaze dark with intent. 

The sound of the buckle hitting the floor sent a thrill down your spine, and as he freed himself, the anticipation pooled hot and heavy in your core, building until it was almost unbearable.

His hand slipped up to the back of your neck, threading through your hair before giving a firm tug, tilting your head up so you had to look him in the eyes.

"You want this?" He muttered, his voice a rough, intense whisper that sent a shiver through you.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, laced with all the want and need that had been building up between you two for so long.

And then, with a slow, deep thrust, he entered you, filling you completely. 

The sensation was electric, sparking along every nerve as he began to move, each thrust measured but intense, the pressure building with a relentless rhythm that had you clinging to him, gasping his name.

The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, each stroke reaching deeper, grounding you even as it felt like you were unravelling. 

Your body become hypersensitive, alive to every rough brush of his fingers, every scrape of fabric against your hot skin. 

The sensation built up in waves, crashing and receding, leaving you on edge, breathless, yet craving even more. 

Each time he pulled at your hair, a sharp spark ignited deep in your core, a flare of pleasure that spread outward, filling you up until it was all you could feel. You arched into him, mouth parting as a moan escaped you, your body yielding to every movement, every rough, deliberate stroke.

His name slipped from your lips like a prayer, your hands tangling in his hair, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you steady. 

Each sound you made seemed to spur him on—his movements gaining intensity, each thrust deliberate, meant to leave you aching in the best way.

He tightened his hold on your hair, tilting your head back to expose the curve of your neck, and his mouth found the sensitive skin there, adding another layer of sensation that left you trembling beneath him. 

The roughness, the unrestrained way he claimed you, made every nerve feel alive, sparking with pleasure until it was almost too much.

"Look at you," he rasped, his voice dark, almost reverent, as his gaze raked over you. "So beautiful…"

Every word, every thrust, pulled you closer to the edge, and as he continued, the pleasure reached a fever pitch, winding tighter until there was nothing but him, the feeling of his body against yours, the raw intensity of his movements. 

And as he drove into you one last time, the release hit, crashing over you like a wave, leaving you breathless, clinging to him as the pleasure pulsed through you in endless, dizzying waves…

—

The next morning, you sat at your desk, barely focused on your work. 

Memories of the night before were still fresh, each one laced with the lingering intensity of every look, every touch, every whispered word. 

You couldn’t shake it—not that you wanted to.

Lost in thought, you glanced across the room at your coworker, Shoko, sitting a few desks over. Gathering yourself, you leaned in her direction, trying to sound casual as you asked, “Hey, Shoko. What do you think about Nanami?”

Shoko looked up, brows furrowed in confusion. “Nanami Kento?” she repeated, a curious edge in her voice. “The company’s old owner?”

You blinked, the words not fully registering at first. “Yeah, I mean… the guy from last night,” you said, a little thrown. “Wait—old owner? How old is he?”

Shoko’s confusion only deepened. 

She tilted her head, clearly wondering if you were joking. 

“What do you mean?” she said slowly, almost cautiously. “Nanami… he’s been dead for, like, twenty years.”

Your stomach dropped, a chill washing over you. 

“Dead?” You managed, your voice barely a whisper.

“Yeah,” Erin continued, oblivious to the shock freezing you in place. 

“Apparently, he was murdered. People say his spirit haunts the office building.” She paused, her voice dipping into a conspiratorial whisper. 

“And that old mansion where they host the Halloween party every year? He used to live there.”

Your breath caught as the room around you seemed to spin, last night’s encounters replaying in your mind with an entirely new—and chilling—clarity.

You tried to keep your expression steady, but your mind was racing. 

Shoko had already turned back to her work, unaware of the spiral she’d just set off inside your head. 

You took a steadying breath, trying to make sense of what she’d just said.

Did I just… fuck a ghost?

The absurdity of it clashed with the vivid, undeniable reality of what you’d felt last night—the warmth of his hands, the low rasp of his voice, the possessive way he’d held you. 

Everything about Nanami had felt so real, so solid. 

You could still feel the ghost of his fingers on your skin, the way your heart had raced when he whispered against your ear.

Your pulse quickened again, and you stole a glance around the room as if everyone might somehow know, but no one was watching you. 

The memories replayed in your mind, each one taking on a new edge as you recalled his almost otherworldly intensity, the quiet way he’d moved, how he seemed to always appear exactly when you wanted him to… or perhaps, when he wanted to be seen.

You swallowed, trying to shake the thoughts out of your head, but Erin’s words echoed persistently. ‘Murdered twenty years ago. His spirit haunts the office building…’

And then, a detail you’d brushed off last night resurfaced. 

He’d told you that ‘you are the most beautiful living thing he had ever laid his eyes on,’...that phrase had seemed flirtatious then, but now, it felt loaded with an eerie truth.

ty for hosting @fizee ur the best sorry I was so delayed LMAO

[soombee]

༄｡° as autumn leaves start to fall.. 🍂 ࿔*:･ﾟ

yang jungwon as your boyfriend (spooky szn edi!) ᡣ𐭩·⁀ ༄

ᯓ notes: dreaming about these dates rn cus SOMEONE has to study for state testing and is too busy studying to go on dates w me so i will live these dreams out through friends and fics 😓

ᯓ wordcount: 1515 / 1.5k words

oh, and, fic playlist here -> autumn

1.) Pumpkin Carving 🎃🍂

golden hour — jungwon’s house

as you two lay out a comfy setup in the backyard: a soft, miffy blankets, fairy lights casting a warm glow, and two steaming cups of hot cocoa by your side. you two are surrounded by a selection of imperfect pumpkins you picked out together this morning, each one varying sizes and maybe a little lopsided. you scan the pumpkins, making sure to pick out the best one. after what jungwon describes as “an eternity,” you finally pick one that’s a bit dented on the back side while jungwon goes for the biggest, determined to create a masterpiece you’d surely love

you settle in and begin carving, laughing as pumpkin guts and seeds fly everywhere

jw: “euughh, digging in these pumpkins feels so nasty…” he says, immaturity filling his mind

yn: “you’re nastyyyy!!” you hit his side with your elbow, careful not to get any pumpkin slime on him

jungwon chuckles, getting back to being focused and careful as he starts tracing out his design. you try to take a peak at his design but jungwon hastily hides it from you, pulling the pumpkin closer to his chest

“no peeking”

you scoff, “i bet mine’s prettier”

jungwon raises his eyebrow, “yeah? we’ll see abt that when we show each other” he sounds oddly confident, it pissed you off (as a joke)

yn: “awfully cocky for a guy who failed middle school art” the atmosphere became quiet as you two start to get serious about this “competition”

. ࣪⭑ 🍂⊹ . ݁🎃࣪ . ⭑

meanwhile, you were trying to carve a cute snoopy outline but ended up with something slightly wonky, making jungwon laugh even harder

“i thought you said no peeking!” you defend with a giggle, tossing a handful of pumpkin seeds his way

jungwon gasps dramatically, pretending to shield his masterpiece from your seedy attack

45 minutes later — sundown

as you continue carving, the sun dips below the horizon, and the twinkling lights around you make everything feel warm and magical, like it as a disney film

jungwon quietly carves a tiny pumpkin, glancing at you with a soft smile before revealing it with a grin — it’s carved with your initials and a little heart

your cheeks turn pink, you can’t help but tease him about it, even though u secretly loved his romantic gesture

“u want me so bad, jungwon”

“pfft, you’re one to speak” he rolls his eyes playfully at your bad joke

finally, (several pumpkins later…), you finally made a perfect snoopy and woodstock carving. you light little candle inside your pumpkin, getting up and stepping back to admire your creation

“damn, for 12 pumpkins, that’s actually really cute” jw exclaims as he looks at his surroundings, which is filled with pumpkin guts and seeds

“show me urs then!” you defend your mess, “bet it’s a real halloween masterpiece”

“hmmm, don’t get too scared then, yeah?” he turns his pumpkin around, revealing the cutest surprise

the words ‘will you be my gf?’ carved into the middle

“you’ve made me the happiest i’ve ever been these past few weeks, yn,” he gets up and grabs a bouquet of your favorite flowers from behind the rose bushes, “will you do me the honor of being my one and only girl?”

you hold on to his shaky hands, attempting to stabilize them, “holy shit jungwon,” you look up at him with teary eyes

he wipes away your tears, “wait are you oka—”

you cut him off with a peck on the lips, “i’d be delighted to be your girlfriend” you pull away as your other hand finds his cheek

jungwon’s eyes widen in excitement, “told u mine was better” he pulls you in for a warm hug, kissing the top of your head

with the crisp fall air around you two, candles flickering, soulful music, and laughter filling the night, it was a perfect autumn memory, one you will always remember

2.) Haunted Mansion 🪓

09:43 pm — haunted mansion

after a 4 minute walk from the parking lot, you and jungwon were greeted by flickering lanterns casting eerie shadows on the stone walls of a nearby fence. fog drifting around you and ghostly sounds echoing through the air, you both try to act brave, but your heart is racing a little faster than usual.

jungwon, hearing your heart beat out of your chest, brushes his hand against yours, causing you to jump

“jungwon!” you place your hand on your heart

he giggles, “i swear i didn’t mean to scare u! i was trying to hold your hand, trust me” he watches you roll your eyes

he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “dont worry,” he rubs your upper arm, “im here to protect you —unless it’s a monster — then we’re both running..” you giggle at his playful demeanor, knowing you’re about to be entering the biggest mistake of your life

you two enter the mansion, hallways dimly lit with only an occasional flash of light and haunting noises seeping from every corner. the suspense is getting to you, and with each creak of the floor, you cling a little tighter to jungwon’s arm, practically bruising him. he tries to lighten the mood, cracking silly jokes and attempting to scare you first from here and there but a well timed ‘boo’ from a hidden actor jumpscares you both

jungwon lets out a small yelp, sending you into fits of laughter in the middle of the hallway

you make your way into a room of mirrors, where your reflections are warped and ghostly, occasionally seeing a fake actor behind your reflection. you laugh at jungwons exaggeratedly frightened face, only to shriek when a real zombie actor suddenly appears behind you in the mirror, making you both bolt towards the exit, laughing and breathless, still holding your sweaty hands

finally out of the maze of hallways, you both pause to catch your breaths, cheeks flushed from the thrill

“i can’t wait to do this again next year” jungwon looks at your reddened face and tired expression, how can one be so cute..

“no.” you pat his cheek, knowing damn well this was going to be an annual date

3.) lazy day-te 🤍

sleepover — yn’s house

the living room is bathed in a cozy warm glow, halloween lamps twinkling along the house, the spooky decorations jungwon surprised you with adding a festive touch. you and jungwon matching minion onesies, him being the crazy purple one of course

the evening begins in the kitchen, youve been sending jungwon tiktoks about the infamous pumpkin bagels, unfortunately located across the country so jw had the lovely idea of making it in the comfort of (basically) his own home.

first, flour. you try to carefully scoop one cup into the mixing bowl, but jungwon decides to be extra dramatic. he grabs a handful and releases it from high above, creating a cloud of flour that drifts straight into your hair

“jungwon!” you protest, brushing flour from your face with a pout, while he laughs, wiping a bit of flour from his own cheek, “you’re so annoying—“

he cuts you off with a kiss, carefully deepening it by grabbing your nape. his tongue hesitantly licking your bottom lip, asking for an entrance. you part your lips, allowing his tongue to slip in.

“better now?” he pulls away from the kiss, catching for breath.

you punch his stomach lightly, “you’re so bad, won”

he giggles as he goes back in for seconds

after making the batter — 39 minutes later

you two finally put the bagels in the oven, “finally,” you stretch, “would’ve been faster if u werent here” u squish his cheeks, which are — in fact — softer than a baby’s butt

“it’s more fun when i’m with you” — jw.

“more like suffering” — yn.

while the bagels bake, you and jungwon spent the next hour talking about random topics — life, feelings, new discoveries, etc. — and flirting.. (yuckyyy)

*ding*

the timer on the oven beeps, cutting through your convo. you both turn towards the kitchen, the sound appealing to your delightful distraction. “they’re done!!”

jungwon grabs your wrist playfully, pulling you back down as he gets up

“race u there”

“no fair, cheater!!” you quickly get up but, to no surprise, he’s already in front of the oven

“slow poke” he teased as you poke your tongue out at him

standing side by side at the oven, you both lean in, the warmth flowing up to greet you. the bagels are bright orange, their shapes accurate resembling wonky pumpkins

“they’re so cuteee!” you take your phone out and start taking pictures of these miniature pumpkins

“just like you” jungwon mumbles to himself as he stares at you in awe

as he pulls the tray out, the laughter and playful banter continue, but beneath it all, there’s a warmth growing between your relationship, one that feels just as satisfying as the freshly baked bagels waiting to be enjoyed by two people who deeply love each other

i wish men knew what women wanted without having to ask for it 😓 #HopelesslyRomantic #FrickMen #WhoWantMe

[upsidedownmvnson]

halloween decor shopping with eddie munson

eddie's spooky szn series

feel free to request more spooky season ideas <3

"This is.... insane," Eddie remarks, looking at the cart filled with orange, brown, and black.

You shrugged, tossing another pumpkin pillow into the basket, leaving Eddie aghast.

"You can't need three different pillows," Eddie laughed, "all with different pumpkins."

"One is for your place," you said, not paying much attention to his dramatics. "Some of this stuff is for your place."

"Oh my god," he laughs still, "you've gone nuts."

You glare over your shoulder, and return to guiding him down the seasonal aisle. You love autumn, and Halloween, and Eddie, so obviously you were going to combine all those together, and create the coziest fall ever. Eddie follows behind faithfully, looking at all the various candles and decor.

"And what's this for?" he asks, holding up a fake cauldron.

"That's for candy - for the trick or treaters," you said, taking it out of his hands.

"And this?" he asks, holding up an orange bowl with little black cats around the rim of it.

"Also for candy for trick or treaters," you smiled, "one to leave outside of the trailer, just in case, and one for us to hand out candy with."

"Hand out candy..." he mused, "this is like a whole things with you, huh?"

You grinned, grabbed some fake cobwebs, throwing them in the cart and looking at your haul. You sighed happily, looking at Eddie with eyes filled with joy and love, and he couldn't help the small smile that settled on his face.

"Yes," you answered, "and you will learn to love it."

You started guiding him to the checkout, and pushed the cart, thinking about your answer. He didn't need to learn to love anything, every second spent with you was a perfect use of his time. And he loved this, watching you be excited and giddy about pillows. He loved that you planned on spending Halloween with him, dressing up and handing out candy, and then... who knows? Who knows what other little tricks you had up your sleeve.

Later, when unloading everything at your house, you were sorting everything while Eddie leaned against the floor of the van, watching as you shoved a full bag back into the van.

"Let me just go put this stuff inside, and then we can decorate the trailer!" you beamed, smiling at him so genuinely, that his heart nearly lept out of his chest.

"Should we stop at family video and get a movie? We can see if they have The Dark Crystal, we've been talking about watching that..."

You smiled, wide and bright and all teeth. "Now that's the spirit!"

Eddie smiled, watching you trot up to the house. And he was just so content. The air was cool, leaves were beautiful shades of orange and yellow, and you were just an absolute ray of sunshine, brightening his day with every chirp and every smile. And he just felt pride, knowing he was able to make you so happy just by being with you.

Yeah... he could do this every year.

[deviiancetv]

Cinema Starview Presents: It Really Was Agatha All Along

I’m such a lover of the occult, witches, mystical beings and all, so Agatha All Along was a real treat to watch. As someone that loved The Craft, Practical Magic, Halloween Town, Wizard of Oz, Twitches, Hocus Pocus (sorta), AHS Coven, and many other witchy fictional stories in modern day media, this series falls right in line as a potential new comfort show to watch during spooky szn.

I’m not gonna lie, I still hate the name of this show, they could’ve came up or chosen a better name, but that’s not what’s important. Let’s just talk about how well this show was as a return to great storytelling from Marvel, cause they sure as hell have been flopping HARDCORE lately.

For starters can we just give it up to Kathryn Hahn!! 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 Kathryn is an amazing actress, her comedic timing is something of perfection. Her role as Agatha Harkness is both cunning, calculated, snarky, and yet deeply flawed and caring to her core. Her connection to Billy at the start of it all at first made me think Joe’s character was gonna be a mix of Nicholas and Billy, but Joe Locke being Billy makes a lot more sense. I loved how her story was both tragic and also had lots of depth to it.

I never did watch Heartstopper (don’t plan to) but he definitely fits the role. I think casting Kit Conner as his other half, Hulkling, would be THEE best casting decision and I hope they do that!! As for who Tommy will be, we’ll have to wait and see but I think Tommy will be introduced in that Vision series or maybe even Wonder Man?? And now that Ghost!Agatha and Billy are a team, I’m intrigued to see what adventures they get themselves in when finding Tommy

Might I add that Billy’s room is full of so much pop culture references!!! Like I’m jealous and I definitely need his room as my moodboard template.

I think I say this for everyone, that Aubrey Plaza kills it everytime in her roles. Her monotone and slightly edgy vibe is what makes her great for shows like this. Her role as Rio/Death was very poetic — the phrase “Death comes for us all” is so cryptic and yet so true. It’s the same thing with change being the only constant in life, and life is full of so many deaths and changes, but also there’s so much growth and birth happening all the time. I’m sure we’ll see Rio again, maybe if they FINALLY introduce Mephisto she could act as a henchmen or bounty hunter of sorts for him.

As for the other witches, Alice’s story was sad, but it didn’t feel fully developed as the other witches. Patti LuPone’s role as Lilia is soooo poignant and wispy (as they say). I love Patti’s roles so much, she’s become a favorite of mine over the years and her portrayal of a divination witch was phenomenal. Sasheer Zamata taking on this role was very interesting, I remember her time on SNL and to see her in a dramatic and whimsical setting like this was a nice change.

I’m just so glad her character Jen was able to be unbound by the spell Agatha placed onto her (as well as the cultural significance that represents). In a way, Jen was a final girl given everybody else died, Billy and Rio don’t officially count since they had grander importance than Jen does in terms of the MCU, but good for Jen. I hope we see her again someday.

This show was a nice return to form for Marvel. I’m not the biggest fan of how they treated Wanda in Multiverse of Madness, but I love the creepy supernatural factor that comes with this area of the MCU. I hope they keep it up, but by the looks of it, I’m sure there gonna be more mediocre content until we get to the end of this Multiverse Saga, however this was a nice break in between.

Jac Schaeffer has done it again ✨ they need to give her a raise and make her in charge of the supernatural sector of the MCU.

SCORE: 8/10 ⭐️

[acexluvbackup]

🎃✨ **New Nail Set Alert!** ✨🎃

Get your Sims ready for **Halloween** with my **Spooky Szn** nails! 💅👻 This set comes with **4 spooky swatches**—perfect for all your Halloween vibes! 🕸️💀

Available now for my **Premium Tier** on Patreon! 💖join and download! 🔗🧛‍♀️

[fairyberkshire]

heres some obsessed!stalker!theo for spooky szn 🤭

At first when the notes start coming under your door or getting left in your books, you think it's nothing...that it's just some sweet guy leaving you them...but then when you start getting roses with weirder notes..you find it out..

And then when you're studying late at night an you feel eyes on you?..it's nothing...just spooked because it's Halloween season...right?..it's certainly not a very obsessed Thedore Nott stalking you...

But then, when it's late at night, and you're needy, and your hand slips under the sheets, lightly touching yourself...and you feel eyes on you...you don't stop...no... because if someone really is watching you...why not give them a show?...

And oh boy did he love the show...because that's just when he realized how naughty (his girl) you were...and it fit just perfect with the sick and twisted obsession he had with you...

[avalanchesumich]

mastermind!au

(not in the timeline)

cameronmakar

liked by ryanleonard, calemakar, and others

cameronmakar spooky szn dates with my favorite human 😚🫶

tagged: gabeperreault44

gabeperreault 🩷🩷

liked by author

taylormakar this is disgusting

gabeperreault44 i still think my pumpkin shouldve won

cameronmakar womp womp

gabeperreault44 i see how it is.

_willsmith2 looks like someone’s on the couch tonight 😳

cameronmakar kys william.

timothyrichards “i still don’t like it” -cale

cameronmakar tell him to take it up with hr

taylormakar mom?

cameronmakar yeah 🫡

valrichards my babies are growing up 🥹

_willsmith2 goes by so fast

gabeperreault44

liked by cuttergauthier, jacob_fowler24, and others

gabeperreault44 perfect days with my perfect girl

cameronmakar perfect u say???

liked by author

_willsmith2 attention seeking at its finest

cameronmakar wah wah i stole your man

cameronmakar our dead gingerbread men are adorable

gabeperreault44 of course they are, you made them

user this is the saddest thing i’ve seen all day

user please grow up!!!

calemakar first picture is an interesting choice

taylormakar mhm take it down

_willsmith2 you used to take pictures of me 😔😔

gabeperreault44 dw bb i still will 😏

cameronmakar what just happened

valrichards the fresh prince just stole your bitch

_willsmith2 HEY NOW MISS VALERIE

[jennyfair7]

A huge THANK YOU for all the wonderful Christmas gifts, @ofbeautsandbeasts ! 🎅🏻🎁 You always find the best stuff for me 🥰

I often see ads on Insta for these fire blankets and consider getting one, so that was perfect! I can’t wait to set up the sneon light to brighten up my home office 😁

So shiny 🤩 Even the snail’s eye stalks are bejeweled!

I always love adding to my fox ornament collection 🦊🎄 and the Red Death keychain is super cute 😍

The fruit snails are ADORBZ I can’t even 😂 The Pusheen & kitty pins will definitely go on my jean jacket for spooky szn 🎃

I love the treats, squishy shroom, erasers, and chandelier air freshener, too!

I’m grateful for your friendship, Jaden ❤️💚 I hope you have an amazing time on vacation & a beautiful holiday! Safe travels when you head home!

[diosa-loba]

honestly didn't feel the break from this super long karmic cycle era that started in january. it's still been heavy. at least this final boss is happening in the comfort of fall/spooky szn. perfect timing 🖤🥀

[hendolish]

it's Hallowe'en szn so: how about cute funny slice of life England nt costume party? preferably hendolish with side stonesford and trent x madders. either friends w/benefits, friends to lovers or established relationships dm! other pairings would be fun to read if you prefer tho

optional tropes for inspo: mistaken identity/masquerade, apple bobbing, pumpkins, face paint, black cat, someone getting scared by a spooky story or prank, dancing to Thriller, one or more of the lads having a sexy and feminine costume (like cat burglar, dark devil/angel, evil nurse, zombie princess etc)

hendolish, stonesford, trent x madders | halloween!👻🎃

The stately venue chosen for England's Halloween party gleams, each corner adorned with cobwebs and pumpkins, providing the perfect setting for a masquerade of unexpected proportions. Soft flickering candlelight casts eerie shadows on the walls, setting the mood just right for a night of thrills.

As players arrive, they're met with a throng of ghostly apparitions, wicked witches, and even a couple of mummies. Jude sports a playful face paint resembling a skeleton, the contrasting black and white highlighting his sharp jawline and perfect cheekbones.

Amongst the vibrant array of costumes, Jack and Madders perhaps stand out the most, oozing confidence in their rather audacious get-ups. Jack, dressed with devilish dark wings, and Madders, in an ethereal angelic ensemble, draw eyes and wolf-whistles alike. Their attire leaves little to the imagination, and while it’s bold, the two wear it with cheeky flair. Both Jordan and Trent certainly seem to appreciate the costumes, unable to refrain themselves from casting appreciative glances, a spark of playful mischief in their eyes.

Jordan, trying not to stare too much, nudges Trent, "They sure know how to put on a show, huh?" Trent, eyebrows raised, simply mutters, "I'll say."

John, side-by-side with Pickers as usual, makes a grand entrance dressed as a duo of pirates, complete with eye patches and a plastic parrot perched on Jordan’s shoulder.

"Who's the captain between you two?" asks a chuckling Kane.

John points at himself with conviction, “Obviously me,” to which Jordan rolls his eyes, "Dream on, mate. It's Captain Pickford to you."

The night is filled with laughter and playful banter, with pranks unfolding left and right. At one point, a ghost on strings descends from the ceiling, inciting a rather girlish scream from Bukayo, causing an eruption of laughter from the room. Dec, the prank's mastermind, chuckles heartily, clutching his sides and earning himself a playful shove from the younger.

As the DJ transitions to Michael Jackson's "Thriller," there's a collective cheer. Players, along with a slightly hesitant Gareth Southgate, gather on the dance floor. The choreography, somewhat haphazard with mixed levels of enthusiasm, is a sight to behold. Amidst the sea of dancing, Southgate’s attempt to nail the iconic moves ends in giggles and a few light-hearted jabs from the lads.

"Gareth, mate, stick to management!"

Amid the dancing and laughter, Jack and Jordan find a quiet corner. With Jack’s wings brushing lightly against Jordan’s chest, their fingers intertwine. The look they share is more intimate than their surroundings, filled with understanding and silent communication before they share a soft kiss.

The night draws to a close with a toast led by Southgate, dressed as a vampire sporting an England scarf for some reason. Glasses clink, and laughter fills the air. The bond among the players is evident, transcending football and resonating as genuine friendship. Through masks, costumes, and playful antics, the togetherness of the England squad shines brighter than any Halloween spectacle.

♡

[simplygojo]

GhostFace Ep. 6 - Choso Kamo

Author's Note: Alright guys, two more fics left for Kinktober, I really wish I had more time this week to upload these...yk...before Halloween. WHATEVER, no time like the present. LUV Y'ALL TY FOR YOUR SUPPORT

Spooky Szn Masterlist

Pairing: Choso Kamo x f!reader

Kinks: Public Sex

Word Count: 2K

Kinktober Taglist: @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, public sex, fingering, second hand embarrassment

The dim lighting flickered over you, casting shadows that clung to the edges of Choso’s Ghostface mask as he loomed behind you. 

The two of you had arrived at this Halloween party together, with you decked out in the most scandalous take on the “helpless victim” costume you could manage. 

Blood-splattered remnants of a torn dress barely clung to your frame, with deep red paint smeared artfully across your collarbones, trailing down between your tits. 

Choso had trailed his fingers along your chest back at your place, whispering how perfect you looked, his gloved hands grazing dangerously close to the curve of your breasts before he masked up and slipped into character.

Now, he stayed close, his gloved fingers finding any excuse to brush against your exposed skin as you maneuvered through the crowded, pulsating mass of the party. 

You had to admit—the Ghostface mask added an entirely different thrill, making his already mysterious nature almost hauntingly seductive. He knew very well that you had a thing for masked horror men…especially Ghostface. 

Every time he angled his head to watch you through that dark, empty stare, heat licked up your spine.

Hours had ticked by, and you’d been holding back that want with mounting difficulty, especially with him pressed so close, never quite giving you what you wanted. 

Finally, you whispered into his ear, “Can we go back to yours?”

Choso tilted his head down toward you, and even through the mask, you could tell he was smirking. 

“Or… we could just find somewhere here,” he murmured, low enough to send a shiver to every nerve in your body.

Your cheeks flushed. “Choso—here? Are you serious?”

He nodded slowly, his gloved hand cupping your waist and drawing you against him, letting you feel his hardening length pressing insistently against your thigh. 

“What, you scared, y/n?” He asked, his voice deeper now, almost mocking. He tilted his head, his mask capturing every shadow, making him look hauntingly perfect for the role. 

You wanted to look away, to resist that smouldering gaze, but it kept you locked in place, a thrill of dread and anticipation pooling low in your stomach.

It took only a tug on your wrist to pull you around a corner and into a smaller, open room where only a few stragglers from the party drifted by. 

The walls were shadowed, and there was no door to shut, but it was tucked out of sight enough that it felt like your own private world. 

Choso’s gloved hand slid up your back, the coolness of it running chills along your spine, his fingers pressing into the blood-smeared skin along your shoulders before twisting in your hair.

“Don’t you think this is…I dunno, a bit public?” You asked, although you really didn’t want to stop.

He tilted his head, his gloved hand tracing along your jaw before resting against your cheek, his thumb pressing lightly at the corner of your mouth.

He leaned in, the mask brushing along your jaw, cold and smooth against your skin. 

“Hmmm…I think you like that idea,” he continued, his voice dropping, rough and hungry, wrapping around you like a promise. 

“The risk. The thrill. The thought of someone seeing you like this…”

Your breathing hitched as his free hand slipped lower, tracing the bare skin of your thigh before sliding beneath the torn hem of your skirt. 

He pressed you harder against the wall, his hand moving up, inching over the delicate, blood-streaked fabric covering your core, making you whimper.

But you weren’t one to argue, especially when you knew how desperate you were for him—how desperate you always were for him.

Your hands found their way to his waist, fumbling with the zipper on his jeans, but he grabbed your wrists, holding them over your head with a single, firm hand. 

“Not so fast,” he chuckled darkly, pressing his mask against your cheek, the smooth, chilling surface pressing almost tenderly against you before trailing down the length of your neck. 

Your pulse raced under his touch, and he seemed to savour every shiver, each small sound you made, as he wedged his thigh between your legs.

You whimpered when he dragged his fingers over your thigh, teasing the growing heat pooling between your legs. He pressed his thigh against your now throbbing pussy, and your hips rolled against him instinctively, craving.

“Choso, someone might walk in…” you gasped, half-heartedly glancing toward the open doorway, but he just let out a low, pleased hum, tilting his head to survey you with that maddening mask.

“Then you’ll just have to be quiet, won’t you?”He said, his voice rough and taunting as he pushed you back against the wall, his fingers slipping under your skirt, finally brushing over the soaked fabric of your panties. 

“But I don’t think you can,” he taunted, his fingers pressing against you through the thin fabric, rubbing slow, maddening circles that had you biting down on your lip, trying to muffle your moans.

Your hips bucked against his hand, needy, desperate, your fingers curling into the back of his shirt to keep steady. His mask loomed over you, empty eyes fixated on every flutter of your lashes, every stifled whimper.

“Please, Choso…” you finally whimpered, and he chuckled, removing his hand only to shove your panties down, letting them fall in a heap at your feet. The cool air hit your skin, and you shivered as he pressed you harder against the wall, his fingers now sliding between your slick folds, his hands rough against your skin.

He didn’t wait long—Choso had never been patient when it came to you, and this moment was no different. 

In one swift motion, he tugged his jeans down, freeing his throbbing length, and your breath hitched as you took him in, the size, the way his tip already glistened. 

Without giving you time to react, he pushed into you, filling you with one deep, steady thrust that left you gasping, clutching at his shoulders as he began to rock his hips against yours.

The angle had you trapped, his hand covering your mouth to muffle the moans that escaped despite your best efforts. 

Each thrust of his hips sent tremors through your body, the slick, rhythmic sounds of your bodies moving together filling the quiet space. The only other noise was the faint murmur of voices drifting in from the other room, a reminder of just how close you were to being discovered.

The thrill of the risk, of someone seeing you two tangled together so shamelessly, only fueled that rising heat within you, sending you spiralling faster than you’d care to admit.

His hand moved from your mouth to your waist, gripping you tighter as he drove into you harder, his breaths coming out in harsh pants beneath the mask. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, his fingers digging into your hips, bruising and possessive. “So pretty and quiet for me…”

The tension coiled tighter in your stomach, your breaths mingling with his as he picked up the pace, relentless and raw. 

His hips snapped against yours, hitting that perfect spot that had you trembling, whimpering against his shoulder, fingers digging into his back as your body arched to meet every rough thrust.

The sensations were overwhelming; you could hardly think straight as he filled you completely, stretching you just right. 

Your mind raced with the thrill of the moment, and you felt every nerve in your body alight with heat—The thrill of being so exposed and at the mercy of his desires heightened everything, making your head spin. 

You were lost in a haze of pleasure, each thrust sending you closer to the edge.

Choso's hand slid down, fingers pressing against your clit in slow, deliberate circles. 

The combination of his movements sent electric jolts through you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. 

You felt an overwhelming heat pooling low in your belly, the familiar pressure building as your breaths came in short, desperate gasps. 

The room was dim, the shadows playing tricks on your mind, making it feel even more intimate as you two became lost in your own world.

As he continued to tease you, a moan escaped your lips, louder than you intended, and Choso’s reaction was immediate—he clamped his hand over your mouth, stifling your moans with a low, playful chuckle. 

“Gotta be quiet, y/n,” he murmured, his voice thick with arousal, sending a thrill of excitement coursing through you. “Don’t want anyone walking in and seeing you like this, do you?”

The very thought sent a rush of embarrassment flooding your cheeks, the heat radiating from your face making it feel like it was on fire. 

You shook your head, your heart racing at the notion. 

The mix of fear and pleasure made you feel alive in a way you’d never experienced before, and you found yourself craving more of him. 

Choso's grip on your hips was firm, almost bruising, but it felt so right—so possessive. The way he controlled you only heightened your desire, and you could feel your body responding to him, wanting him to take you deeper.

With every thrust, he kept you on the precipice of ecstasy, and as he picked up the pace, his movements became more powerful, hitting that perfect spot that had your body trembling with need. 

You clung to him, fingers digging into his back as you arched to meet every rough thrust.

The tension coiled tighter in your stomach, the pressure building to an unbearable peak. 

Each thrust made your body go numb with pleasure, and the heat pooling inside you threatened to spill over. 

As he continued to rub tight, agonizing circles on your clit, pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, drawing a desperate moan from your lips that was muffled by Choso’s hand over your drooling mouth. 

Choso's thrusts grew more frantic, matching the rapid beating of your heart, and with a final, deep push, he buried himself inside you, filling you up to the brim with his sweet release. 

The world around you faded away, and your body tightened around him, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you cried out—only to be muffled again by his hand.

Just as the last shudders ran through him, his breaths coming out in harsh pants, you heard footsteps approaching.

“Yo, Choso! You in here?” Yuji's voice echoed from the hallway, and your eyes went wide with panic.

“You’ve been gone f—oh my god!” Yuji yelped, slapping his hands over his eyes the moment he stepped into the room. “I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything, I swear!”

Choso’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, his arm still wrapped around you as he leaned in close, the heat radiating off his body mixing with yours. 

He held you tight against him, the feeling of your body still trembling from pleasure pressed against his side. 

You could feel his heartbeat pounding—a reminder that despite the unexpected interruption, the thrill of the moment still lingered in the air

Your cheeks burned with humiliation, a vivid red flush spreading across your face, partly from the aftermath of your shared ecstasy and partly from the embarrassment of being caught in such a compromising position. 

“I’m just—I’m just gonna,” Yuji stammered before walking out of the room. He kept his hands firmly pressed over his eyes, as if that would somehow erase the image seared into his memory. 

You could feel Choso’s laughter vibrating against your neck, and you couldn’t help but feel both mortified and amused by the absurdity of the situation.

Choso's breath was still heavy against your ear as he leaned closer, his lips brushing your skin. 

“Guess we really weren’t as quiet as we thought, huh?” he murmured, the playful grin audible in his tone, making it impossible for you not to feel a rush of affection mixed with lingering desire.

[sugarcoated-lame]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers 💕

Hii! Thank you so much for sending this, Tea!! 🥰

And also tagging @grogusmum Hazel, thank you for sending me one of these too on my main acc ( @its-dee-lovely ) I figured I’d just combine them haha 🥰❤️

1. My kitties, Patches (top) and Chai - they’re both a little bit insane, but I adore them 🥹

2. Autumn - forever my favorite season bc it’s just so cozy and the perfect sweater weather, I love all the beautiful colors of the trees and leaves, and ofc spooky szn I looove Halloween 🧡 like I wish it could be Fall all year round 😭

3. Playing video games (currently replaying the last of us and my other fave, Detroit become human)

4. Hiking, especially in the Fall and just being out in nature (although I’m terrible with bugs lmao)

5. My friends in my phone, my lovely mutuals 💗💕 - I honestly spent a long time on tumblr way too scared to talk to anyone haha, so I’m so beyond grateful to the friends I’ve made here now who have shown me just how lovely people on this site can be, and also how much more fun this experience is when you have friends to share it with 🥹 so yeah, very grateful for all my moots and always happy to make new friends 💗

Thank you again for sending me this, lovely!! 💜💗

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

People keep asking about updates for Sugar Daddy Erik but I really want an update of Mirror Mirror! Not saying S.D.E isn’t a masterpiece because it is but Mirror Mirror is the perfect balance of suspense, smut, drama, all that! It’s almost spooky szn too!

I re-read Mirror Mirror maybe two weeks ago to try and refresh my brain on it and I love it so much lol. I’ve had that fic sort of outlined for months now but I plan to update that sometime this month or in October for spooky szn. S.D.E is the next update that I really need to finish I’ve just been so busy with other things to focus.