#raz has a thing for extremely questionable men (and women)

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Your Devil (Bad Samaritan Drabble)

Cale Erendreich x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: You want Cale to get a little dressed up for the trick or treaters on Halloween. Cale is less than impressed.

CW: Cale- need I say more, dominance, Halloween req BAYBEE

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“This is fucking ridiculous. I am not putting that on my fucking head.” 

You pout, and Cale’s glare hardens further. You’re holding a headband with little devil horns on them. It's cheap and cliche, you’re aware. But he’d just look so cute and precious with them on! Your grumpy little demon. Oh, you couldn’t wait. Cale was putting them on even if it was the last thing you managed to make him do. 

‘Why not?” You pout as the doorbell rings again. You think better of handing the headband to Cale and take it with you as you swing the front door open. If you gave it to him he’d snap them or toss them. Maybe even burn them before you had a chance to get them back. You couldn’t have that. A chorus of little voices shout “trick or treat” as soon as the front door cracks open and you give each and every one of them a compliment on their outfits before handing them big bars of chocolates. You didn’t hold out for Halloween. Cale had the money so why not buy the big bars for them? Besides, it netted you more visitors the next year when you didn’t skimp. 

When you close the door, giving the kids a wave as they run towards the next house you don’t expect Cale to be pressing you up against the wooden door, a glint in his eye. 

“Because- Halloween is ridiculous.” 

You arch your brow and gesture to the maid outfit you’re wearing. It’s probably a little much when answering the door to give kids candy, but it’s also not too over the top, either. It’s almost tasteful. 

“It’s about fun, sweetheart. Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining about my outfit when I put it on for you last night.” 

Cale’s face drops into a scowl, and he looks as though he’s going to say something before he sighs in defeat. 

“Give it to me.” 

You break out into a charming grin and reach up to place it on his head instead of giving it to him directly. His outstretched hand stays there for a moment before he drops it, pressing an almost aggressive kiss to your forehead before wandering back towards the kitchen to get a drink, grouching the whole way.

“Pushing your luck, darling,” he grumbles just loud enough for you to hear it. You hear the fridge shut loudly before-

“You fucking owe me for this.” 

You don’t, but you’ll give him what he wants anyway. You’re good like that.