#plastic jack o lantern with a handle

[reysdriver]

Silly Face | E.M.

carving pumpkins with the family — dad!eddie x mom!reader fluff

warnings: a knife (used for carving the pumpkin), so much fluff

words: 1.2k

You sat your baby son up on the plastic-covered kitchen table so he would have a view of his dad and his sister as they prepared your Halloween decorations. 

“Are you excited to carve your first pumpkin, honey?” You asked your daughter. 

“Yeah!” Willow responded excitedly. “They’re gonna look so good!”

“I bet they are!” You said, entertaining both kids at once by tickling Ash while talking. “Is Daddy done with all the prep?”

Eddie smiled at you. “Yup. Got the pumpkin guts right here!” He made a fake vomiting noise as he waved the bowl of pulp and seeds in front of you. 

“I’ll take that, thank you.” You laughed, taking the bowl and putting it between you and your son. “My baby boy can play with that while you two do all the fun carving stuff.”

And even quicker than you thought, the little boy dove for the bowl beside him and stuck both hands into the gooey mess, squealing while he felt the pulp squish between his little fingers. 

 While you watched Ash enjoy his silly sensory experience, Eddie handed a marker over to your daughter and told her to draw the outline that she wanted to carve out of the gourd. 

“What are you gonna make, baby?” You asked her.

“A happy face!” 

Eddie kissed your daughter on the cheek after she handed the marker back. “You’re not gonna make him scary, honey?”

“No!” She said, like it was obvious. “Scary is too scary. He’s gonna be silly!”

“What? ‘Scary is too scary’? I’m wounded, my little girl.” Edde held his hand to his heart like he was so offended by what Willow said that he was going to have some kind of a medical emergency. He fell back into his chair and put on an exaggerated face, which elicited a giggle fit from your daughter. 

You couldn’t help but laugh as well. “Don’t listen to him, honey. I think your silly pumpkin looks perfect.”

“Thank you, Mommy.” She said bashfully. “Did you see his eyes? They’re different shapes!”

“Of course I saw it, sweetheart. I love it.” You told her. “Now, do you want to wake your dad from the dead so he can help you cut the shapes?”

Your daughter shuffled around to face Eddie and shake him ‘awake’. Eddie’s eyes shot open and he inhaled dramatically, which just made Willow laugh even more than before. 

“Oh my god, honey.” Eddie turned to you, a hand still clutching his chest. “Did you see how our daughter just saved me from the dead? I think we should start investing in medical school like, yesterday.”

“I think a magic school where she could practice necromancy is better for that. And probably cheaper.” 

“Well, either way, we agree she’s gonna do great things in life.”

You reached out to tickle Willow’s side. “I have no doubt about that, starting with helping Daddy carve this silly pumpkin!”

Eddie picked up the knife and held it away from your daughter, keeping it tight in his grip but still leaving enough room on the handle for her little hand to hold it with him. 

She reached up to grab it, then they both guided the knife to the first eye she had drawn. With some extra force, they pierced into the thick skin of the gourd and sawed out the shape. Once the eye was able to be popped out, Willow grabbed it from the rest of the jack-o’-lantern and held it out to show you. 

“Look, mommy! We’re taking out the face!”

Eddie made eye contact with you as you both tried not to laugh at the way she described pumpkin carving, but you quickly returned your eyes to your little girl. 

“I’m looking, honey. It looks good so far.” You told her with a smile. 

She seemed pleased with your response, so she turned back to Eddie and went to help hold the knife again. You watched them bringing the utensil to the pumpkin once more, but your youngest child took your attention for himself when he deemed he was done playing with the pumpkin guts. 

He turned towards you and babbled some incoherent syllables that you were proud of him for attempting. He stuck one of his hands in his mouth, then promptly took it out and made a face at the taste of raw pumpkin. You scooped Ash up into your arms, then wiped off his hands with a clean dish towel that was next to Willow. 

“All better, baby.” You told him softly, then began bouncing him on your leg to earn some more happy squeals from him. 

Still bouncing your son lightly, you looked back up to your daughter and your husband as they carved out the other eye shape, which your daughter was just as excited to pop out and show you as the last one. You made the same happy face you did last time, then watched the whole time while they finished the jack-o’-lantern. 

After it was all done, Eddie pivoted the pumpkin to show it off to you and Ash. 

“Well, how did we do?” He asked, getting up to put the knife in the sink. 

You knew he was mostly asking so Willow could be praised by you, so you directed your answer at her. You soundlessly clapped your little boy’s chubby hands and gave her a big smile. “You did so well! It’s the best jack-o’-lantern I’ve ever seen!”

Willow looked overjoyed with your compliment for her pumpkin, and she got off her chair to hug your waist. “Thank you, mommy!” 

“No need to thank me, honey. I just appreciate good Halloween decor and I’m not ashamed of it.” You told her, standing up and moving Ash to your chest. “Do you want to take the silly pumpkin outside now?”

She immediately turned and reached up onto the table to try and grab the pumpkin, but you brought a hand to her shoulder and told her to slow down. “Let’s get Daddy to grab it, honey. It’s pretty heavy and we don’t want to drop it and ruin your masterpiece, right?”

She understood and moved away from the pumpkin, instead walking towards the front door. Eddie picked up the pumpkin and walked to the door as well, then you and your son followed closely behind. 

Willow opened the door for you all, then pointed to where she thought her creation should go. Eddie obliged and turned the pumpkin to the angle of your daughter’s liking.

Eddie stood up to his full height and put his hands on his hips, looking down at the jack-o’-lantern. 

“You know, my love, our daughter’s a visionary, she’s an artist, she’s a holiday decorator; what can’t she do?” Eddie asked you, putting a bashful smile on your daughter’s face. 

“That’s a good point, Eds. Maybe she’ll even be a teacher and help her little brother carve pumpkins when he’s old enough.”

Willow rushed to hug your leg tightly at your suggestion. You knew the day in question wouldn’t come for at least a few years, but you were already as excited as her.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie x mom!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine #halloween

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: Pumpkin Carving [Yandere Derek Goffard x Reader]

Title: Pumpkin Carving [Yandere Derek Goffard x Reader]

Synopsis: Derek is a stickler for traditions.

For Horrorfest request:

Derek + carving a jack-o-lantern face into his captive's chest

Word count: 884

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, violence against reader, blood, knives

Your jaw aches from how much you’ve clenched your teeth in the last twenty minutes--or has it been longer? You sometimes count seconds in your mind during moments like this, but you’re probably off--to avoid screaming. Or begging. Though you know that he wants to hear both of them in spades, as if he hasn’t already gotten his fill of your screams and tears and blood.

But Derek, if anything, is a spoiled asshole incarnate. No matter how much he has, no matter how much he gets--how much he takes--he wants more. And more. And more. 

Maybe that’s why he presses particularly harder onto the center of your chest, slicing the knife down and wiggling it around to widen the wound so that the pain is too sharp, too new, to ignore. 

And you finally slip, your teeth throbbing when you finally release your jaw to cry out--

“Fuck!”

Above you, Derek snickers. 

“Took you long enough, didn’t it?” 

The dam is broken now, and you can’t help the whimpers, the grunts, the pitiful cries that bubble past your dry lips as he hums and continues carving a pattern onto your chest. 

“Don’t move so much,” he tells you, leaning backwards to take in his work-in-progress. “If you fuck this up, I’ll have to find some other way to celebrate Halloween tonight.” You didn’t want him to find some ‘other way,’ although you sincerely doubted this was all he had planned anyway, so you resolve to keep your body as still as possible.

That’s what you're good for--listening to what Derek tells you. 

He’d told you to lay down on the floor earlier, and you did. You weren’t wearing a shirt today (he told you not to bother putting one on in the morning, which meant your stomach was on edge all day, anticipating what was going to happen) so all he had to do was straddle you, pull out the knife, and get to work slicing and dicing.

For once, he’s not using his favorite hunting knife on you, but a sharp, bright orange pumpkin carving knife he had one of the butlers pick up from the supermarket. It's the type of knife you used on pumpkins, back before all this. The kind with a cute little pumpkin on the handle.

You should, theoretically, be grateful that he’s not using the hunting knife. Then he’d be going deeper than he currently is, though it still hurts like hell. It is meant to cut through thick pumpkin flesh, after all. And it is cutting through flesh… yours.

You never get used to any of it. The pain. The scent of your own blood. The way your arms begin to feel heavy after a while from the blood loss. The awful stinging, aching, throbbing that echoes through whatever wound he’s creating anew on your flesh. 

Eventually, he’s satisfied, because he sets down the knife and drags you to your feet. You don’t struggle against him as he pulls you towards the floor-length mirror set-up in front of his walk-in closet door. 

You don’t really see it at first. There’s too much blood. Oozing and dripping down onto the carpet, ensuring the maids would have something special to do tonight. 

Derek sighs and grabs one of his shirts that he’d previously tossed on the floor this morning. He wipes away the blood, ignoring the way you curse and sway on your feet, with the silken material.

It’s a jack o’lantern. 

Big enough that the round edges of the pattern skirt against your nipples, bringing the sting close enough that you thought, briefly, he might just cut through them. Mercifully he didn’t, but if you were being cynical (and you were, all the time) it was likely so that they didn’t lose any sensitivity in the future.

It’ll scar, though. Especially with the jagged cuts he’s created. Unless he gets the plastic surgeon his family keeps on tap to come in and take care of it, although you’ve heard the man tsk at Derek’s requests before, mumbling that he’s a doctor, not a miracle worker.

At least he’s had his fun here. Maybe he’ll want to go get drunk with his “friends” tonight and come back too inebriated to do much more. Though Derek has no real friends, you’ve realized, because people are only around him for his money. Or because they’re being held captive, like you. Or because they have to be, like his family, who only stays on this estate (you’ve gathered, from Derek’s ranting) due to their father’s obsessive control over his children. 

“Almost finished,” he says, spinning you around a little in the mirror. “Just needs that finishing touch.” 

“What do you mean?” Your own voice sounds like it’s muffled, spoken through wool and tinny ringing. It never gets easier, no matter how much he hurts you. There’s always the shock that comes with the pain. That’s something you’ve learned quite well. 

He scoffs, like you’re stupid. Then he smiles  at you in the way you hate the most, that smug, awful, sticky looking smile.

”It’s not a jack o’lantern if it’s not lit up, is it?”

He pats your head like you’re a dog.

“I’ll be right back with some candles.” 

#the price of flesh #tpof #tpof x reader #derek goffard x reader #yandere derek goffard #afterwitch writes #aw horrorfest

[demonichikikomori]

“Trick or Treat”

Ruggie Bucchi x GN!Reader Word Count: 830 Tags: Neck Biting/Suggestive Content

Art by OSisoh on Twitter!

As a “treat” I offer some Halloween content! And hopefully I finally finish KinkTober before the year ends... But please enjoy 13 Lovely Hauntings. There are 13 short fics for the season. Both NSFW and SFW. Let's have a horrific Halloween this year.

SUMMARY:

As Grim runs off to collect some candy, a student from another dorm swings by for Halloween! Your favorite boy-toy, Ruggie Bucchi, who makes a very fine vampire. Unfortunately, he’s feeling hungry. But not for candy.

You adjusted the witches hat on your head with a smile, watching as Grim stepped out of the dorm with a small, plastic, pumpkin shaped bucket in his paws. He told you that he was big enough to go and collect his own candy from the other dorms. It would be your job to hand it out while he snagged some loot for the both of you. And so, you started him off with a few small pieces from your candy bowl before the beast set off on his journey for sweetness. The two of you were supposed to match costume as a witch and their familiar. You had even gotten Malleus to enchant a broom for you to sit on since you couldn��t fly without help. But Grim was antsy over missing out on candy, so the two of you split up for the night. Wearing a pair of black ruffled pumpkin shorts, a white cold shoulder top with long flounce sleeves, and oversized black ankle boots adorned in little Jack-O’-Lantern charms and white ribbons, you sat on your broom and waited for visitors. 

And just as you watched the monster dart down the path with his candy bucket, a shadowy figure began to approach your haunted dorm.

A long black cape, lined in a warm red velvet trailed behind them like a leathery bat wing. They wore a white button up shirt with a white cravat, elegant white gloves holding onto the thin black handle of a plastic pumpkin bucket, all tight fitting and contoured to the wearer. The odd part of the costume were long black slacks that didn’t seem to be short enough for the wearer, so they wore shiny black shoes with a heel. 

The visitor appeared to be a vampire, if hyena’s could play such a role in the first place.

“Trick or Treaaat!~! I came for something sweet.” The hyena purred as he walked up to your doorstep with a sly smile, exposing his canines that had been encapsulated in gold. “Hi Ruggie, I thought all of Savanaclaw was dressing up as cowboys this year?” You asked as your eyes looked him over to soak in the sight of his outfit. He does make a charming vampire, but you were hoping to see him dressed as a cowboy first. “We are. Doesn’t mean I have to wear one costume tonight. I’m done helping out at the ‘saloon’ anyways.” He shrugged as you grabbed a handful of candy to drop into his bucket. He was pleased with the generous handful as a snicker followed. “Thanks, but, vampire’s don’t eat candy.” The beastman purred as he stepped closer with his pink tongue gliding over his gold fangs. 

Your face was becoming hot as Ruggie’s hand gripped your broom and pulled you closer to his body. “You wouldn’t mind if I had something else would you? Your neck looks much tastier than candy.” He whispered playfully as his head bumped against yours, his breath warm against your icy skin as he began pushing the broom gently in the direction of the door. “Mr. Vampire, I don’t think I’m very tasty.” You played along with a small and sheepish smile. “I’ll be the judge of that,” Ruggie grabbed the door handle and pushed his lips towards your ear. “Are you going to invite me in?” He asked as you felt your heart skip. Right, a vampire can only enter when they’re invited inside. 

“I have to pass out candy-“

“It’ll be quick, I just wanted to see you.” Ruggie promised cheekily as he tugged your broom close and slotted himself between your thighs. You gave in with a quiet ‘fine’ and the door was forced open behind you. The hyena snuck you back inside of Ramshackle  as he bumped the door shut with his arm. It was much warmer inside and you relaxed as you felt Ruggie’s arm slip behind you and cradle your head. You were practically forced into a hug, so it seemed to any ghostly prying eyes or living paintings. His fangs grazed the sensitive skin of your throat as he kissed and slipped his tongue over your flesh. He kissed, licked, and sucked the skin raw as you whimpered into his shoulder. You silently prayed to whoever was listening that the ghosts wouldn’t come through a wall anytime soon. You could feel him growing hard between your thighs which left your face burning as you reached down and slipped a finger into one of his belt loops. His name fell from your lips as you felt his tongue roll over your pulse point with a low growl vibrating across your skin. “Almost-“ Before Ruggie could finish, there was a knock against the door. 

The sudden banging caused you both to gasp as a group on the other side called out to you for candy. But opening the door might not be a good idea right now… Especially after being attacked by a ‘vampire’.

Tagged Accounts: @ruggiethethuggie

#13 Lovely Hauntings #suggestive content #ruggie x y/n #twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #ruggie bucchi #ruggie x mc #ruggie x yuu #ruggie

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Fic - I think that if HexSquad had found and redeemed Belos before the episode "Thanks to Them", he would have decided to use his monster form instead of a costume for Halloween.

After all, if humans dress up in costumes to disguise themselves from monsters, why wouldn't a real monster show up?

Luz doesn't think this is a good idea and tries to prove it to moldy uncle.

Bad Idea

It was Halloween night and Luz and her friends were ready to go trick-or-treating.

"Everyone have their Halloween bucket?"

Luz turned to ask the group with a gleaming smile on her face as she held the handle of her orange plastic jack-o'-lantern.

The others all nodded with glee as they held up their candy buckets as well.

Amity's bucket was a purple witch's cauldron, Willow's was a black cat, Gus's was shaped like the head of Frankenstein's monster, and Hunter's was a ghost.

"This is gonna be the best night ever!" Gus beamed, his eyes sparkling.

He was dressed as Captain Avery.

"Yeah!" Willow agreed wholeheartedly. "I hope we get lots and lots of candy!"

She wore a black devil costume.

"Heck yeah!" Gus grinned, giving his plant pal a high-five. "We'll collect enough to fill an entire swimming pool!"

"No, AN ENTIRE OCEAN!"

"Ooo, a non-boiling candy ocean sounds even better!"

Both besties begin to puff out their cheeks and reach out their arms as they pretend to swim.

Willow and Gus' silliness and enthusiasm are met with a playful chuckle from Hunter, Amity, and Luz, who were dressed as Chief O'Bailey, Hecate, and Luzura respectively.

They were also pretty excited for the night.

Footsteps could be heard as the group looked to see Philip coming down the stairs in his usual colonial clothing.

"Oh, you're still here," Luz mumbled, her tone expressing great annoyance as she crossed her arms.

She huffed.

Despite her and her friends being on somewhat good terms with Philip, she still had her doubts about the old man.

Mostly because he literally tried to kill them... twice.

"I take it you'll be going as yourself tonight?" Luz questioned, squinting her eyes at him.

Philip, in response, shook his head, unfazed by Luz's cross expression. "Actually, I intend to go out in my beast form," He reveals rather calmy.

If humans in this period of time disguise themselves as monsters, he would blend right in if he appeared as an actual monster.

Hunter, Amity, and Willow went pale as a result of his answer, while Gus remained smiling.

Now that's something he would be interested in seeing!

Luz, on the other hand...

"Woah, woah, woah, my dude," She said, raising both her hands in a 'slow down' gesture.

"Bad idea."

Philip's monster form was not pleasant to see.

The thought of it sent shivers down her spine.

Philip browed at her mildly in disapproval, which made Luz sigh.

Opening the door, she grabbed his hand. "Fine, I'll prove it."

...

"Hmm..." Luz hummed as she stood outside on her front yard pathway, holding her hand over her eyes and looking for someone.

Philip was present in her company.

"Oh, her!" Luz's pointer finger is directed towards a little girl across the sidewalk who is walking happily in a princess costume while holding a small kitten in a bucket.

"If your 'costume' is such a great idea, why not showcase it to that little girl over there?"

Her smug look was reciprocated by Philip.

"Fine," He complied, tackling her challenge.

...

"Look, Mr. Whiskers!"

"Meow?" Mr. Whiskers peeked his tiny head up from the plastic bucket to see his little owner holding a pink twisty pop.

She gave him a cheerful smile, idly twirling the twisty candy in her hand. "Isn't it pretty? I'm gonna eat it when we get home!"

The little girl suddenly halted as a massive shadow hovered over her.

Shaking, she slowly turned around to see a monster, but not just any monster, the same monster that had run into her mommy's car.

As Luz smiled smugly from across the sidewalk, Philip sighed.

As soon as he waved a goopy hand at her, she ran away.

"MONSTER!" she shrieked, dropping her lollipop.

"See?" She said. "Told you. Bad idea."

He gave her an annoyed, moldy uncle frown while mumbling something under his breath.

#(of course I'm gonna reference something from the best episode in season 3) #(hope this is okay!) #the owl house #owl house #toh #luz noceda #emperor belos #belos #philip wittebane #old man belos #moldy crumpet husbando #belosfanstakeover #ask #asks #request #anon #anonymous #fanfic #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfictions #writing #my writing

[butmakeitgayblog]

Did AWTR clexa ever go to a pumpkin patch and pick out pumpkins to carve into jack-o'-lanterns? Would they have been the type to give out candy to trick-or-treaters?

Oh yeah, that was one of Lexa's bucket list items 😌 about a month after their honeymoon they drove up and down the coast just to watch fall burst into bloom. They visited apple orchards to bring Gus back as many crates of their own handpicked apples as they could fit in the trunk of Clarke's shitty Honda to make treats and stuff for the shop (and also them, they swiped from the display case constantly). They went to pumpkin patches and loaded up their backseat with all different kinds and colors of gourds and pumpkins to carve up into interesting and crazy jack o lanterns, and haul out little trinkets/decorations they found from kitsch shops along the way. Enough to decorate the house, Abby's house, and the shop as well, to the point it looked like Halloween had thrown up all over everything that would stand still.

Clarke and Gus handle carving the bigger pumpkins while Lexa takes up a very authoritarian reign over the smaller gourds. Dozens of tiny jack o lanterns and cat silhouettes and wonky faced carvings lit up with inner tea lights peppering throughout the larger pumpkin displays. Just to add a little flare.

Lexa is the most excited to hand out candy because that's what she's always done since she was 8 years old. She never really cared much for trick or treating, not after her mom got sick. But getting dressed up anyway and stuffing herself with popcorn and candy while watching scary movies? Handing out candy and seeing everyone's costumes? Decorating the whole house with spooky stuff and pumpkins and cobwebs and little bats and candles????

Perfect. Day.

They go as Peter Pan and a very, very questionably appropriate Wendy. Lexa prancing around in her green skin tight tights and little hat slightly askew on her wild curls, brandishing her plastic sword and a playful grin to all the neighborhood kids who stop by. Which is helpful and a distraction from Clarke who settled on a wildly loose interpretation of Wendy, donning a rather short, tight white nighty in lieu of a nightgown, complete with a generous dusting of "pixie dust" (body glitter nicked from Lexa's secret stash of costume makeup via her high school performing days of the past).

She earns more than a few looks from the parents trailing behind...

Mostly though they spend the early evening just sitting on the porch swing out front, sneaking candy from the stash and getting pleasantly tipsy on Gus's homemade hard apple cider. After curfew they retire into pjs and the livingroom couch, snuggled up and crashing from the chocolate, alcohol, and sugar high of before, sensibly cutting the decadence with a mountain of popcorn that they share with Gus while listening to him complain about the sheer amount of blood, guts, and gore on the screen 🎃👻

#anon #AWTR

[just-barrow]

day 29 of @almost-a-class-act's War Is Helloween prompts!

SAS: Rogue Heroes - Jim Almonds/Pat Riley

Character A is taking a kid (theirs or someone else's) trick-or-treating and rings Character B's doorbell because the kid was too scared to approach the house on their own, OR because the kid in their charge smashed Character B's jack-o'-lantern.

Jim loves hanging out with his 6-year-old niece Millie, so when his sister asks him if he can take her out for trick or treating he immediately says yes.

Fortunately she is just as eager to spend an evening together as he is.

She's dressed in a little vampire costume, her flowy black cape billowing as she runs from house to house. Her plastic jack-o'-lantern is clinging to its handle for dear life as it swings violently back and forth. Jim has trouble keeping up, but seeing her so excited fills him with joy and he runs after her with a big smile on his face.

Most houses have put up some decorations; carved pumpkins on porches, cute little bats in windows, and the occasional ghost floating next to the front door, but nothing too elaborate. One house, however, has gone the more extreme route when it comes to decorating. The entire front yard looks like a graveyard, surprisingly realistic headstones littering the grass and creepy skeletons and zombies clawing their way out of the ground. There are lights and everything. Jim is impressed.

So far, Millie has been firmly telling her uncle to stay behind on the sidewalk because she wants to knock on the doors all by herself, but for the first time that night, she pauses, not sure if the candy will be worth the scare.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Jim asks gently.

She worries her bottom lip with her teeth for a second before nodding. "Yes, please."

Jim takes her hand and leads her through the graveyard, admiring the effort that was put into it whilst also keeping an eye on the kid. The further they go up the path, the more determined she seems to get her hands on that candy. Jim smiles and lets go of her, taking a step back as she knocks on the door.

It opens with a creak.

A very handsome man in a black cape stands before them, little devil horns poking up out of his slicked back, dark hair. He smiles down at the little vampire girl standing defiantly before him.

Eyes big, she says, “Trick or treat.”

The man kneels in front of her and holds out a bowl with full-size chocolate bars, smiling. “Here you go. What a great costume, I love your cape!”

Jim smiles at the very distinctly American accent. That explains the elaborate decorations. He regards the man from a safe distance, trying not to be too obvious about checking him out. He's not entirely successful; their eyes meet briefly and Jim's knees temporarily turn to jelly at the dashing smile aimed his way.

With a grin, Millie quickly takes one of the big chocolate bars, clutching it to her chest in disbelief and delight. “Thank you, sir. I like your cape too!”

“You know what,” the man says conspiratorially, “because we’re both wearing such awesome capes, how about you take another chocolate bar?”

The girl hides her giggle behind her little hand, quickly taking another bar and slipping her prizes into her jack-o’-lantern before turning around to beam at her uncle.

As he stands back up, the man nods at Jim. “Hope you don’t mind that I gave her so much candy.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Fortunately for me my sister is the one who gets to deal with the sugar high,” Jim grins. Behind him, his niece is poking at one of the skeletons, clearly having overcome her fears.

The man laughs. “Cute kid.”

“Yeah, she’s great.”

There's a brief, calculated pause. “If you don’t mind me saying, you’re not too bad yourself, either.”

Jim feels a blush creep up his cheeks and gives the man a bashful smile. He wants to say something–that he thinks the man is gorgeous, and that he is very single and very available–but then his niece yells at him from the end of the path.

“Come on Uncle Jim, we haven't been to all the houses yet!”

Wishing that he could come up with a reason to stay but knowing full well that he needs to go with Millie, Jim smiles apologetically as he backs down the path. “Sorry. Duty calls.”

“Of course. Uncle Jim.” The man leans against the doorway and smirks. “I’m Pat, by the way.”

Jim likes the sound of his name on his lips. “Nice to meet you, Pat.”

“Feel free to come around later." Pat winks. It really shouldn't be as charming as it is. "You can help me with my costume.”

Well, who is Jim to decline such an offer?

#war is helloween #my fic #sas rogue heroes #jim almonds #pat riley

[thenightling]

Notes for newbie Halloween collectors: JOL = Jack-o-lantern.   You'll see JOL used a lot on Halloween collector sites.  It just means Jack-o-lantern but tends to be used most often for very old ceramic or wooden ones.     Hyde and Eek = This is actually a division of the Target Company.  Hyde and Eek make Halloween decorations and collectables specifically sold by Target in September and early October.  They change from year to year so if you want to replace a crow figurine you bought wearing spectacles and a scarf in 2008, you're not likely to find him again except used and over-priced on Ebay.     Hyde and Eek actually make some great vintage-style Halloween products, and vintage-style "shelf sitters." Warning: A lot of the plastic products from Hyde and Eek still use lead paint.  Their electric (plug-in) Jack-o-lanterns are high quality except in regard to paint.  They still use lead paint, or they did as recently as five years ago.  The tags often have warnings that they are not toys for this reason.  They don't chip very often.  Just don't let little kids handle them too much and especially don't suck on them. Shelf Sitter = A plushy or "Fabric" figurine or doll of a human character or animal intended to be seated on a shelf.   It's pretty much a toy and only "not a toy" in name only.  Toys get taxed differently than decorations even when collectible. Michaels = They actually sell reproductions of late nineteenth century / early twentieth century Halloween figurines but they are a bit over-priced and you need to go there upwards of five months ahead of time. Spirit Halloween = Spirit Halloween is probably the most mainstream way of obtaining Halloween collectables. They mostly favor modern instead of vintage but they're the place to go IF you can afford buying your own life-sized monster animatronics.  Their online store is open year 'round.  Their physical stores open as early as the first week of August and they close in the first week of November, seasonally. Spirit Halloween has some annual items, like Hyde and Eek, which are available one year but not the next.   Many are themed throw blankets, animatronics,  mugs, and Little bopper (dolls). Home Depot = The place to go if you want your own twelve-foot-tall skeleton that became strangely popular a few years ago. :-P Hallowe'en = The usual way the holiday was written in postcards and products from the laten nineteenth century until the 1940s when the ' was phased out to save money on ink.   It's still used today in reproductions.  Both Hallowe'en and Halloween are considered acceptable spellings for the holiday according to dictionary (dot) com. New England Hallowe'en cards = Most late nineteenth century to 1940s Hallowe'en postcards were printed in New England and reproductions are pretty easy to find.  Originals sometimes sell for a lot of money, depending on condition. German figurines and lanterns = Most figurines, lanterns, and "cut-outs" were originally manufactured in Germany.  Some have very accurate reproductions but a lot of original molds were lost or hand sculped so sometimes proportions aren't quite accurate. It's likely they don't use originals to make new molds because they don't want to risk damaging preserved pieces just to sell reproductions. Image of some Hyde and Eek Shelf-sitters.  Not mine.

#Halloween #Hallowe'en

[style-u]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Spooktacular! Lantern, small candy bowl, & Hand. Towel.

[buttercupclothingcollectables]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Orange Jack-O-Lantern Halloween Bag 15x16x4 NWT

[toytulini]

ive been rereading homestuck, and, i Of Course remembered about the buckets, but i also. forgot anout the buckets? anyway, i got to the parts where vriska and terezi and kanaya get sudddenly flustered and embarrassed about john and dave and rose interacting with or just Having buckets, innocuously, on the viewports where the trolls coukd see them, and then later that evening i suddenly realized how many buckets i own (i think i have approximately 8 buckets visible rn) and that my bedroom would probably be considered OBSCENE to a troll and its like days later now but im still amused by this.

i have so many fucking buckets and i forgot that its not a normal amount of buckets to own. 8 visible, 1 is downstairs, 2 are under my big tank. (Edit i definitely have even more than that but im done counting lol.) do other ppl just not have this many buckets??? how do you live your lives

#toy txt post #homestuck #i only bought like. 6 of them #bc i constantly needed buckets for fish stuff and i just constantly needed new buckets?? and my dad keot scolding me for stealing his #after offering his for use so i got tired of it and over some years ive now acquired 6 bright orange 5gal home depot buckets #lets do this #FUXBCUSHF i just remembered actually i have a bucket with more buckets inside that i wasnt counting. 1 sec #ok i think just have 1 bucket in that bucket. possibly 2 but theres too much fish shit on top of it all that i dont feel like relocating. #but wait actually now. there might be other smaller buckets inside of other bigger buckets..idk #the point is i have a Ridiculous number of buckets in my bedroom and i forget that most regular humans do not have this many buckets #possibly not even this many buckets in their house??? the small ones are all vaguely stolen from dad. its fine #and thats just counting proper buckets tho. i know terezi maybe got embarrassed by things that werent buckets but were containers of liquid? #like kool aid man and also soup/hot tub for dave or smth. is my corner bowfront 90gal.a bucket? how bout the plant pots? #plastic jack o lantern with a handle? i just remembered i have a tiny pink toy metal bucket in my closet #anyway a friend hilariously suggested and homestuck fan kid oc thats an aquarist with a ridiculous number of buckets #that would be very funny

[dal3ks]

that peter parker smile

pairing: tasm! peter parker x reader

word count: 1.017k

warnings: extreme fluff, probably a little canon divergence, mentions of violence

a/n: this is my first time writing for this peter, so please let me know what you think! i hope you guys enjoy :') he deserves the world.

“aunt may, you really don’t have to—“

“oh please peter,” there’s a twinkle of amusement in the woman’s eyes as she slides a stack of albums across the table, “this is fun! you know, i could always dig out those albums from your earlier years. those one of you in the tub are so cu—“

the brunette shakes his head, throwing up his hands in protest, “no, no, no — these are fine. i think these are enough for tonight.”

a giggle bubbles up in your throat as you pluck an album from the collection, flipping it open, “when was this?”

“i believe that one is from his kindergarten days,” aunt may gushes, clasping her hands around a mug, “there are some gems in there.”

peter lets out a huff, sinking into the couch cushion, “i bet there are. did you take out the one with my—“

“halloween costume?” you arch a playful brow, flashing a photo, “it’s quite cute, peter. maybe you should dress up as a power ranger more often.”

“which one was i?” peter leans forward, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “i can’t remember.”

currently, you were curled up on the couch with peter, aunt may situated in her favorite recliner, a cup of cocoa in her grasp. the lights were dimmed, the heat radiating from the heater only amplifying the cozy ambiance of the room.

typically, this wasn't the itinerary for your usual saturday, as you worked at a bookstore only a few blocks from your apartment. however, when you noticed you had the night off, peter didn't give you much of a choice.

you were spending time with him, and that was that.

which, you didn't mind one bit. especially when it involved reminiscing on past memories with his aunt may. and when baby pictures were mentioned? oh, you were a little too eager to see your boyfriend.

looking closer, the corners of your lips twitch, curling into a smile.

in the snapshot, peter stood proud, puffing out his chest, donned in a crimson power ranger's costume. your heart can't help but swell a little, as the mask was almost two sizes too big, the elastic barely hanging on to his ears. the fabric was a smidge too long, bunching around his wrists and ankles.

nonetheless, he exuded nothing but pure joy, holding up his jack-o-lantern bucket high in the air, slightly tilting his head.

you can almost see his toothy grin behind the plastic, his eyes squinting through the slits of the eyeholes.

it was one you knew all too well, the same one he gave you even years later.

that wonderful, beautiful, amazing peter parker smile.

"you were the red one," aunt may responds, wistful notes lacing her voice, "i think you won the class costume contest with that one. and i'm glad you did, because it was a pretty penny for that silly little ensemble. it took me a couple extra nights of work to afford it."

peter chuckles, "you think i should try it on again? then maybe you'd get your moneys worth out of it."

"i think you already wear a red suit and fight crime," you whisper, earning a squeeze from peter.

"maybe i should drag it out of the attic," aunt may brightens, "it would probably fit you now. although, i'm not sure if you've grown that much."

"hey now," peter warns, rolling his eyes, "i can only handle so much embarrassment. first it's childhood pictures, and now it's the zingers."

"i thought you liked my zingers," aunt may protests, pouting slightly.

"oh i do," peter nods, "only in small doses."

"mhmm," aunt may hums, "now, which one is next?"

"can i pick it this time?" peter inquires, leaning over to scope out the stacks.

"it better be a good one," you prod him with your elbow, "i need some good wallpaper material for my phone."

"wait!" aunt may interrupts, rising to her feet, "i know the perfect one! it's in my room, i'll go grab it."

"oh great," peter scowls, glaring over at you, "look at you, encouraging her."

"you know it's because i love watching you get all flustered. and well, because i love spending time with your aunt. it's fun to gang up on you."

"i wouldn't say seeing me all flustered is the best way to spend your saturday night."

"it's cute, like you."

at your statement, peter softens, a hand reaching upwards, cupping your cheek. his thumb lingers, gliding along your cheekbone, "i love you. you know that?"

"what an honor to be loved by the amazing spider-man," you murmur, heat flooding into your cheeks as peter inches closer and closer, his mouth nearly on yours.

"i would say the higher honor is being loved by such an amazing person like you."

"you two better keep things pg while i'm in the room," comes a tsk, the two of you freezing.

"aunt may," peter groans, squeezing his eyes shut, "it was only going to be a kiss."

"mhmm," aunt may tuts, a new album tucked under her arm, "i know what kisses lead to, young man. i wasn't born yesterday."

"oh god," peter's eyes fly open, "aunt may, please. stop."

"alright, alright," a warm laugh flows from her lips, her attention focusing in on you, "are you ready for the next set?"

"of course," you beam, "which one did you grab?"

"it's from his middle school years. let me tell you, this is the best one."

"here we go," peter grumbles.

yet, as hit aunt sits back down, situating herself into a pile of blankets, peter's hand finds yours, lacing your fingers.

perhaps he enjoyed this too, a little more than you initially thought, as the pure bliss in his gaze gave it all away.

and at that, your heart flutters.

peter needed more nights like this, surrounded by people who love him. he needed more nights with nothing but laughter filling the air, your hand in his.

and god, were you more than eager to give those nights to him. you would do it every saturday, every evening. hell, you would do it every moment of every day if you could.

as long as you got to see that peter parker smile.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #the amazing spider man #the amazing spider man x reader #andrew garfield #tasm #tasm peter parker #spiderman #the amazing spiderman #peter x reader

[pjisskullourful]

-ˏˋ⑅  𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 ⑅ ˊˎ-

happy halloween🎃 let me be your halloQween

🔪Ethan X reader

NSFW🔥-------- [🚨CONTENT WARNING⚠️::knifeplay& bodily harm- pls DONOT read if this is a TRIGGER foryou] -------- super smutty filthy dirrty-talking depraved kinky sexytimes

° Ethan Torchio & female reader insert

° you & your boyfriend Ethan get distracted from your plan to carve jack-o'-lanterns

wordcount: 5,695

° requestedish- moreso just @angelisgf asked me about knifeplay &then @zittimarlena encouraged me into thinking about ethan &thinking about ethan& thinking about ethan- PJ U STOP RIGHT THERE U GIVING ME NEW KINKS EVERY SINGLE TIME!, Okay but an ethan's plot matching this [...] him being a freak with knives [...] that would make me have an heart attack! -- i told yall to not get me started, but ya did & here weare!! ask & it shall be given-- requests are open!

° title stolen from My Chemical Romance🖤 largely inspired by thispost 🖤

-------- 🚨CONTENT WARNING⚠️::knifeplay& bodily harm- pls DONOT read if this is a TRIGGER foryou. knifeplay should only be performed by consenting adults who hold respect for oneanothers safewords. selfharm doesnot have to be part of yourstory- squeeze some ice cubes in your hands til the feeling passes, or speak to someone that canhelp. you are strong you are valued & all things pass --------

The solid pumpkin was heavy in your arms as you carried it out to the balcony. You found your boyfriend had moved from the spot that you had left him in - all you found was a lone pumpkin and a couple of empty buckets. You placed yours down onto the tiled floor, looking around for any sign of him.

"Ethan?" You headed back into the apartment.

You could hear a strange scraping sound coming from the kitchen and you headed in that direction. He was standing at the counter, his back to you for the moment. His hair had been pulled up into a loose bun atop his head, out of his way as he worked at sharpening a knife.

"Hey baby, I thought you'd be carving by now."

He scoffed, turning to you and you could see one eyebrow raised. "These knives are very disappointing, my love. You have this sharpening steel for a reason, hm? I kinda wonder if you know how to use it…"

You watched him so confidently running the blade of the small paring knife against the steel rod. You felt a little shy as you moved to sit up on the countertop alongside where he was stationed. "I mean, I'm sure that I could figure it out, like, if I had to, or whatever. But that's why I have my burly boyfriend, to do all that manly stuff for me while I fan myself."

"Right, another win for destroying the patriarchy." He said sarcastically.

"I like watching you do stuff- if that makes me less of a feminist…" You trailed off, wiping your chin free of any imagined drool. "I'm at peace with that."

"So you don't want me to teach you?"

You tucked some hair behind your ear. "Sure, you can teach me, baby. But you know me- I'm more of a visual learner."

"How could I forget?" After six months together, he knew most of your little tricks, but continued to be amused by it all. "If you want- I could get you something other than the steel, I'm guessing this just came with the knife set. But they sell stuff that's way safer." As he spoke, he didn't stop running the blade along the rod, his grip remaining firm and no awkward pauses required for him to readjust or check his technique. "Some of that As Seen On TV crap, but they've got the plastic handle with the grips and they're more compact. Literally, they are so safe that even my nonna can use them, and I'm talking about the nonna who is blind in one eye."

"I don't know if that would help me, 'cause I don't even know how to tell if a knife is sharp enough or not, without cutting up, like, ninety tomatoes."

"Oh, there's an easy trick for that, let me show ya." He stroked the knife down the steel in two final long motions before deciding he was satisfied. He set the steel tool down and turned to you, holding the small knife up. His eyes were set on you for a moment and you found yourself undeniably fascinated already.

He held one hand up, showing you how it was curled into a fist, with his thumb lying on the outside. "If it slides right off the nail, then it isn't sharp enough…" You held your breath as he brought the knife over to his hand. "But if it catches…"

He gently placed the blade to his nail, looking up at you as it settled into the protective layer. "It's sharp enough, definitely sharp enough for the pumpkins."

You leant forward eagerly, trying to get a clearer look. "But that isn't, like, cutting you? Where's the blood?"

"No blood, I'm not using any pressure, it's just resting there." He removed the blade and presented the undamaged nail to you. "See?"

"Wow, not a single drop."

"There is another way we could test." He twirled the handle slowly as he took a step closer to you.

The look in his eyes got your heart pumping faster.

"How attached to these stockings are you?"

You smiled, not sparing more than a second of thought for the worn in fishnet tights. "Not at all."

"Good answer." 

He was now close enough that you could smell the beer on his breath. He placed the handle of the knife against your inner thigh, applying enough pressure to push your legs apart. You stopped thinking about the proximity of the blade, instead your only care became the proximity of his lips to yours. Your eyes had fluttered shut before his mouth was on yours.

This wasn't the first time that he had kissed you today (it wasn't the first time he had kissed you since you'd returned home from the visit to the pumpkin patch) but it was immediately the best kiss of the day. You put an arm around his shoulders, tilting your head and seeking to deepen the kiss. He was kissing you like he didn't intend to stop anytime soon and you wanted to melt.

You moaned when you felt his tongue easing between your lips, past your teeth. Your jaw grew slack, allowing him greater access - and soon you were feeling tingles spreading through your body as he rubbed his tongue across the roof of your mouth.

He hooked a finger through the netting that barely covered your legs, lifting the lines of material away from your thigh. You arched your back, pressing into his front with more purpose as you yearned for more.

You couldn't contain the pathetic whine that followed his lips leaving yours and you were immediately licking your lips, savouring the taste of him. You kept your arm around him as you followed his line of sight, looking down to your lap. He held a rung of the fishnet design over one finger, pulling it in a way that had the checks digging into the underside of your thigh, with enough pressure to bring a pleasing sting to this area.

He had readjusted his hold on the small knife, bringing the blade towards your leg. You held your breath, suddenly very focused on how the metal caught the overhead light. 

"If this is still blunt, then I'll have to do a little sawing action. But, if I'm right, the blade should just glide through this thin little string here…" He was saying, his voice only hinting at a curiosity that was pulsing through your veins.

He moved the knife, carefully positioning it under your stockings, alongside his finger. He tilted it up and that black string instantly fell apart, the square ruined with seemingly no effort from him. You were exhilarated by the sight of even more of your flesh being revealed, an excited blush rising in your cheeks and ready to spread.

"Yup." He said with a quick nod, rocking back on his heels a little, making you think that he was about to leave. "That's sharp enough to carve a pumpkin."

Your urgency sprung you into action and you grabbed his arm before he could take more than a single step away. He looked at you, already smirking a little. "Why can't I think about anything but having that knife on my skin?"

He held it up to your eye level, meanwhile his eyes traveled down from your face, taking in the sight of your neck, then your chest above the collar of your sweater. "I don't know, love. You're getting that horny-blush right now too." 

The way he could get you blushing from your hairline down to beneath your clavicle, that was an Ethan exclusive. Sometimes, just to screw with you and watch you squirm, he would whisper dirty talk into your ear while you were out in public - always amused by that secret reaction, especially if it got the attention of others who wanted to know if you were feeling alright.

"If I didn't know any better- well, I could've sworn that it looks like you're a bit turned on right now. But that couldn't be the case, 'cause if my pretty girl had a knife kink- you would've told me well before now, hm?"

"What if I didn't know that I had a knife kink until right this second?" You asked. "What if it's less of a knife kink, and more of, like, an Ethan kink- where everything you do turns me on?"

"But we were gonna carve pumpkins." He said, pouting his bottom lip out in mock-disappointment. "Poor Pun-kin and Gourd-geous are out there right now, not fulfilling their Halloween destinies." 

You had named the vegetables, laughing over the puns as he drove home. But you didn't feel much like laughing right now.

"We will carve pumpkins, we definitely will." You said. "But what if-what if the knife isn't actually sharp enough? Well you should test it, you should test it on my skin, just to make sure, 'cause fishnets are kinda easy to rip anyway. But my skin, it would take something really sharp to cut that."

He was smiling as he raised the blade, placing the cool metal against your cheek. “If that’s what you want. The way you’re all flushed- it gets me thinking that you’re burning up under these clothes.”

“Oh I am, I really am.” You nodded. “And what was I thinking? I’m wearing a white jumper and we’re about to carve pumpkins, this is gonna get ruined anyway…” You put your hand over his that held the blade and aimed it lower, towards the collar of your long-sleeved top. “You should get it out of the way right now.”

“A sensational idea. But, not here, not in the kitchen.”

You giggled, sliding off of the counter, back onto your feet. “Right, we already tried that- way sexier in theory.”

“Exactly. I was thinking of the bedroom, or at least, the bedroom floor.”

You were grinning. “Okay.”

You started to leave the kitchen first, with him quickly falling into step behind you, sliding his hand into yours, your fingers finding a comfortable way of weaving around one another. You were absolutely giddy, as excited as ever to fuck him. It had been a couple of weeks since you had been with him (he had been abroad, kept busy with all the new press that had come with the Eurovision win earlier in the year) and your appetite had built up in that time. But adding in the knife served to up the adrenaline pulsing through your veins.

You picked up his hand, kissing the back of it as you turned to him once you were in the bedroom. He flicked on the light before wrapping his arms around you, bringing your back to press against his chest.

"Do you trust me, pretty girl?" He asked into your ear, you were immobilised with your arms pinned down by your sides. He lifted the knife, twisting it in the air in front of your face.

"Yes, of course I do." You said.

"I won't do anything that you don't like." He said. "You have your safe word and everything stops as soon as you say it."

You nodded your head, eyes fluttering shut as the word flashed in your mind. Tickle. 

This had been established early on as a kink to avoid for both of you. Hearing the word was enough to kill the mood and jolt you into a completely different headspace. You had used the safe word a couple of times and he would always stop immediately - but you weren't planning on using it tonight, not when you were so curious to find out how far this knife could take you.

"Yes baby." You said quietly.

He tightened his arms around you, lifting your feet from the ground. Your heart leapt as you were carried toward the bed. He placed you down, letting your knees rest on the mattress before guiding you to lie your face on the sheets.

You kept your back arched, your rear sticking up. Then you felt his fingers pick at your fishnet pantyhose again. He pulled at the interweaving strands, the opposite side digging into your flesh. He seemed to tug and pluck at the material without any pattern, simply experimenting - all the while prolonging the torture you felt from waiting, your pussy only growing wetter with each passing second.

You felt the cool point of the knife applied to your skin before it ripped through more of your pantyhose. Then he ran the edge over this newly exposed flesh and you heard the scratch of it as it moved without wounding you. 

He worked thoroughly, no rush in any of his movements. You could feel the precision, the control that he had over the knife as he chose how much of it you felt. When he poked you with the tip, it was quick, comparable to a spank. But when he wanted to draw out a sensation, he would draw a gentle line across your skin.

You didn't know what you wanted to see more - the scratches he was building on your skin, or the look on his face as he worked.

Gradually, there were more lines of tattered fabric on the bed than covering your legs and the only intact pieces were what remained hidden beneath your black shorts. 

He put an arm around your middle and twisted you into rolling onto your back, your legs instantly parted to make room for him in between them. You shivered under the intense stare he was currently considering you with.

"Are you still having fun, baby?" He asked. "Do you still want more?"

"More." You responded immediately, your breath shallow in your chest as more heat pooled in your cunt.

He smiled and you could see the building excitement in his jeans. But you weren't bold enough to undo them. And you became entirely distracted when it was your pants being opened. He pulled the denim out of the way, tossed over his shoulder. All that was keeping the frayed pantyhose on you was the flimsy waistband.

But he didn't remove this from around you. Instead he moved his attention to your sweater. He hooked a finger through the collar, pulling it away from your throat. This action brought him in closer, almost close enough for you to kiss. The warmth of his body covered your own and you wanted to soak in all of it.

He put the small paring knife's edge to the fabric and your eyes fluttered shut, a smile developing on your face as you thought about how close you were to being naked for him, how close you were to being devoured by his lust.

The thin white material sighed apart, putting up no resistance to the blade. He cut it open down to your navel.

"What about this bra?"

"It was cheap." You said, watching as he started to move the knife towards the strap over your shoulder.

"I'll buy you a replacement one- a better one."

You looked down as best you could and found that your chest was still glowing pink as your arousal continued to build. He had placed one knee on the bed, by your hip, but remained standing for the moment. He bent over and used the blade to lift one of the straps away from your skin. With enough tension, the knife cut through the elastic strap. He cut the other strap into two pieces without hesitation.

He straightened up and put his hands to the hem of his black shirt, lifting it up. You took it upon yourself to unclasp your bra, discarding the ruined lingerie.

"It's like I'm unwrapping the sexiest gift ever." He said, his shirt disappearing from your field of vision. He laid down beside you, on his side to face you.

You were grinning, so pleased with the way those dark eyes moved across your exposed skin. There were so many ideas racing through your mind (actions that you could take to speed things along), but you knew him and you knew how much he loved to reward your patience.

You looked away from his face when you felt the scraping of the blade on your skin again. You watched him work his way down from your sternum, goosebumps rising in response to this touch that was far too light.

Then he used the knife to cut through the waistband of your stockings, moving it down through the intact pieces of netting that covered your crotch. Your skin was released, any remaining tangles wouldn't be an obstacle to him now.

The fire in your gut became all the more prevalent when he placed the blade to the lace of your underwear. Your thighs twitched in anticipation as you waited, needing the wet material off of your cunt. 

One of your thighs gave another spasm, your leg raising from the bed a little as he caused the first fray in your panties. He cut down another inch and paused. Your cunt was clenched so tight as you wondered what he was waiting for. Then he severed another inch. You couldn't watch any further, simply feeling the next careful cuts until the cool air could reach your cunt.

Before you could open your eyes or make a sound, you were shocked by something solid pressed against the wetness of your entrance. Your breathing halted as you recognised this as a touch independent from him, bearing no familiarity to how he had touched you before.

It was the handle of the knife, letting your pussy drip onto the plastic without penetrating into you. You felt weak as you looked at him, instantly finding that he was staring at you, savouring the reactions that were playing out on your face.

"Baby…" Your voice was quiet, coming from your mouth that was so dry. "Please fuck me."

He smiled and pulled the rounded end up, dragging the moisture up towards your clit. "You don't have to beg, I'm gonna fuck you. I just wanted to give this knife here a big finish." He pushed over your clit with the handle, the sensitive hood pulsing against this pressure and gifting you a second of blissful thoughtless floating.

"You're gonna put the knife away?" You asked, lifting your head slightly.

He stroked the plastic against your clit for a bit, giving you a moment or two of incredible stimulation. "I don't have to…"

"Yeah- I mean, no. I mean, you should keep it out, please."

He removed the object from your skin and leant in closer, until he could press a quick kiss to your lips. "If that's what you want, love."

"Maybe I do have a knife kink."

He had sat up and begun to remove his jeans. "I guess it's a good thing that you've got a boyfriend who knows how to use a knife and a sharpening steel."

You released a shaky sigh, you couldn't quite believe how wet you were - he hadn't actually touched you yet, making you wait to feel his hands and body. "I'm a very lucky girl." You let your legs hang limp over the side of the bed.

He had opened the bedside draw, pulling out a condom. The small paring knife had been placed on top of this side table as he ripped open the individually wrapped rubber. He reclined back, meeting your eye. "I think you'll find that I'm the lucky one."

"Yeah, you're about to get lucky."

He laid down, gesturing for you to scooch closer, which you were more than happy to do. "Come here, my love."

He put an arm around you, one hand stroking the small of your back as he kissed you. You moved in as close as you could, rubbing your toes against his ankle. You felt his mouth open and you ventured your tongue forward, exploring the heat that you had been waiting for. You fell into an easy rhythm, the two of you getting onto the same page, locking into the same headspace and getting your eyes set on the same goal.

He let you slip one of your legs between both of his. You were sick of there being so much space between your body and his. You pushed yourself into him more, feeling him begin to fall back onto the bed. His arms wrapped tighter around you and you rubbed your hips into his a bit, playing at building the friction.

"You tryin' to get me on my back here, baby?" He asked.

"Maybe." You said.

"I wasn't joking about the floor."

"Oh, of course." You eased yourself out of his hold, hating the separation straight away. "Tell me how you want me."

"On your back."

You sank down onto the ground, keeping your eyes on him as you did so. You sat on your knees then laid back.

He grabbed the knife before coming down onto the floor with you. He sat himself in front of you, placing his legs beneath yours. His hands went to your hips, pulling you closer. Your cunt was clenching, so eager to feel him.

His tip was so close, you had to clamp your lips together to keep yourself from whining aloud. You could see the concentration in his eyes, the fire burning there, he was full of the same blind anticipation as you - he was just better at keeping it in check than you.

If the knife was slippery from your cum, it didn't impede his grip. He pressed the tip beneath your navel, your belly contracting with each shaky breath. This time he dragged it up your torso, letting it scratch, not cut.

He brought it up, resting it on your neck. The knife settled under your jawline, to the left. He looked into your eyes and you could tell that he was waiting for your safe word. But you didn't feel unsafe.

"Can I hold this here?" He asked. "Can I just keep this on your pretty neck right here?" You swallowed slowly. "I'm just gonna hold this right here while I fuck you, hm?"

"Yes." You whispered.

One hand kept the knife still while the other held your thigh, gripping it as you felt him pushing into your dripping heat. He eased his hips forward and you melted, enjoying the stretch of your walls around him. You savoured every inch as he buried into you, filling you up and making you moan.

"Mm, oh God…" You whispered.

His hips moved slowly, experimenting with how tight you were. You were fluttering around him, lifting your ass from the ground to slide more of yourself around him.

He found a tender rhythm to work into you. Your breaths grew shallower as you watched his body moving, smoothly rolling against you. 

You gave into the tingles and tentatively started to move your hips in response. The blade at your neck brought some pressure, but not pain and you found that you could meet his thrusts while avoiding injury.

"If I…" You swallowed, a sting coming to your throat as it briefly expanded. "Would you- if I'm a good girl, would you scratch me up a bit? I don't care where, I just want you to leave a mark. Something that will last."

He licked his lips, watching you for a second as he considered this. "You have to be a good girl…"

"I know, I will."

He exhaled heavily. "Fuck, now I have to think about where I wanna mark this gorgeous body. There's almost too many options."

"Please Ethan, you own me." You said. "And I wanna have a reminder of that, at all times."

"Yeah, I bet you do, 'cause you love being owned, don't you, baby?" He rocked into you with more intensity, hitting deeper. "You love being owned, being used, being fucked at knifepoint, don't you? You just love being my little sub, hm?"

You allowed yourself to push back into him, meeting all of his thrusts with as much power. "Yes I do, I really do. I love it so fuckin' much."

"I know, I know." His voice had gotten lower, his eyes becoming darker as he clenched his jaw.

His pacing became deep and hungry, leaving you gasping for air as unpredictable twitches came over your body. The pleasure flooded through you, the sensitivities reaching an even higher level. 

"And I love it too. That's why I'm gonna fuck you senseless." He said, making you throb even more for him. "Ab-so-lute-ly…" He separated each syllable, almost into their own word and emphasised each by snapping into you, harder. "Senseless."

You threw your head back, your mouth gaping open as you struggled to cope with this new level of intensity. "Yes, please, yes Ethan, fuck me, fuck me." It became a hushed chant, you could no longer hide your desperation. "Fuck me, please." You jerked more dramatically than before. "Yes, oh yes, yes."

Another spasm sent you rocketing forward and there was a sting as you increased your contact with the knife. You fell back to the ground, feeling the sharpness less.

He laid down on top of you, his speed only dipping for a second or two. "Stay still darling. I don't want this knife to hurt you, not somewhere so visible, at least. When I mark you, it's gonna be our little secret, okay?"

"Mm-hmm." You were clenching so tight, not wanting to squirm again, but unable to maintain your control.

He remained with his chest pressed to yours and now you could hear how heavily he was breathing. It was so intense, so overwhelming.

"Un… uh…" He panted, a selection of incoherent noises falling from his mouth.

He kept going faster, driving all of the strength from your body. You put one of your arms around him, losing yourself to all of the wet sounds that came between his skin slapping against yours.

"Fuck, oh fuck…" You groaned, biting into your bottom lip as your body was being threatened to be eaten up by the searing heat that had started in your pussy but now had your toes curling.

"Don't come until I tell you, okay?" He insisted into your ear. "Don't come, love. Not yet, not yet."

You grasped at his back, trying and failing to nod. You wanted to promise him, but you weren't certain that you would make it there - all of your focus was being put into meeting his thrusts, you didn't know if you had the will to hold off an orgasm.

"Don't come yet, okay?"

"Okay…" Your voice was a weak whine as his strokes brought the best sensations out of you.

His hand tremored on the knife before he drew it away, tossing it far across the floor and you gasped in a greedy breath. He readjusted, a stunning display of energy as he sat up, pulling your body with him. Your legs on top of him and your arms around his body, you felt him hit in deeper.

"You wanna make me come, hm?" His lips went to your neck, fierce kisses ravaging the skin here as your bodies found a way to make this new angle work, to carry on the ruthless speed. "Ah- I wanna come in this pussy so bad."

"Yes." You whimpered. "Yes, please come inside of me, Ethan. I need it."

"I know, I know." He said, hands on your hips to control your bounces, to control just how hard you landed upon his lap each time. "Yes, yes… unf…"

Your bodies moved together, the friction so overpowering but you continued to chase for more. You were crashing down with more force, holding onto him tighter. You held him so tight and so close that it became difficult to differentiate between where your body ended and his began - but it didn't matter because you were one. You were one desire, one wildfire of lust.

"Lay back, lay back for me." He instructed, hands moving you to where your back was parallel to the floor. You planted your feet onto the ground, needing all the help you could get to maintain this unnatural position.

But it was worth it as soon as you felt the next thrusts. This new position allowed his thrusts to glide over your g-spot and quickly had you dripping for more, your orgasm seeming to be within reach.

"Oh God, yes, yes." You cried out, writhing against him harder than ever.

"Ah, that's it, that's it, just like that, pretty girl, ride me just like that." He encouraged through laboured breaths. "You want me to come, hm?" A convulsion drove him deeper into you again and temporarily interrupted his rhythm. "Ride me, yes. Ride my fuckin' cock 'til you- mm, 'til you make me come.

"You want my cum, hm?" The pace was becoming more erratic, but you refused to be bucked off. "You want my fuckin' cum, baby?" You could only moan in response. "It's for you, it's all for you. That's it." He was getting louder and you could hear the building triumph in his voice despite how breathless he was, which made you want to surrender all the more. "That's it, ah… fuck…

"Come for me, come for me." He ordered.

Your thighs squeezed around him and you locked your hands onto his arms. Your chest expanded and you felt his balls slapping against your ass.

You gave him the last of your energy in a few more pumps until you were convulsing into your orgasm, clenching onto his pulsing dick. You felt your cum dripping out as you let go completely, with one final grind.

You became limp, shoulders slamming back onto the ground.

"Oh God, baby…" He brought himself closer to his orgasm with more determined plunges into you, sliding you across the ground as he strived to slap harder into you until he was done. "Fff- oh, that's it. Yes, yes, uh…"

Any other noises were restrained in his clenched throat. Stilted snaps of his hips were the last movements he made, swallowed up by his orgasm, throbbing inside of you.

Then he was sighing heavily and pulling out of you. Your legs dropped to the ground and you lay still, floored by the aftershocks as they rattled through you.

"Good girl, oh what a good girl." He was whispering as you slowly opened your eyes, looking over to where he had moved away slightly. "Such a good girl…"

You smiled, reeling too much to have anything to say for the moment.

He crawled across the floor to you, some of his hair stuck to the sweat on his forehead. The smile on his face made you feel shy, made you feel that blush persist. He stopped alongside you. "You're such a good girl for me, do you know that? And good girls' get rewarded, don't they?" He held the knife up for you to see again. "Where do you want your mark?"

"I don't…" You trailed off and shrugged. "I don't care."

"What about right here?" You had been expecting to feel the cool of the blade, instead it was his finger that touched the area beneath your belly button, slightly off to the right. "I love this spot here. It won't get irritated by your pants and it's somewhere that you'll probably accidentally catch sight of throughout the day. Hm, does that sound good?"

"Yes please."

You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the whimper that accompanied the hot sting of the blade cutting into you. You reached out to stroke his hair as he looked up at you, wide-eyed. "I'm okay. It just surprised me, but I'm- I'm okay, I promise. You can keep going, please."

"Alright, but you're not allowed to look. I want it to be a surprise."

You smiled, even as you felt your skin being sliced. "You're so cute."

He scoffed. "Yeah, that's a word for it. More accurate would be, oh I don't know, sadist, masochist, morbid…"

"How about perfect?" You offered, watching as he lodged his tongue into the corner of his lips, something he did in the interest of increasing his concentration.

You redirected your gaze to the roof, feeling surprised over how much you were enjoying the carefully executed pain, more intimate than getting a tattoo. The feeling ran deep, changing the rhythm of your heartbeat. It locked you into this moment, entirely satisfied, entirely content with being under his control.

"Perception is everything, hm?" 

He sat up and you looked at him first, wanting his approval before checking what he had written upon you. He nodded and you propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at your stomach.

The design had been placed so that it faced up to you, a love heart with three small strokes inside of the curves.

"Four." You said through chapped lips.

"Yeah." He was smiling, clearly proud of himself. "'Cause that's when we had our first date- the fourth of April."

There was some blood beading to the surface, but it wasn't the kind of cut you would immediately need to put pressure to. "I love it."

"I love you." He put a hand to the back of your head, bringing you in for an affectionate kiss.

You sighed into his mouth, loosely draping an arm around his neck. "I love you too."

"It was worth it, but we'll definitely need to sharpen this before even thinking about trying to carve the pumpkins."

Your eyes moved from his face to the blade and back again. “Right, but that’s gonna happen another time, like, tomorrow or something?”

“Oh, of course.” He said and you were very relieved, acutely aware that you did not have the energy for carving anything tonight. “That’s what I was thinking would happen, ‘cause I was already planning for the rest of our night to be spent with cuddling, some making-out and maybe you’d let me play with your tits a little.”

You laughed. “Sure. We still have four days ‘til Halloween, that’s plenty of time to get to the pumpkins.”

--- --- ---

If you like my writing, feel free to tip me. I am open to both commissions & requests, commissions get priority & the most input

🔪🎃 4days til halloween- 1more addition to the halloween filth-fest/ethan filth-fest. stay tuned &stay spooky ☠️⚰️

#pj halloween filth-fest #manesmut #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin smut #maneskin fic #ethan torchio fic #ethan x reader #ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio x you #tw: knives #tw: cutting #tw: bodily harm #cw: cutting #cw: bodily harm

[dokifluffs]

Baby Halloween | Konoha, Sakusa

Pairing: Konoha X Reader (female), Sakusa X Reader (female) 

Genre: the fluffiest of halloween fluffs with haikyuu dads you’ll ever read 🥺 

Author’s Note: I know it’s november- Gifs from @rivaillerose​ 💛💛

Baby Halloween | Kenma and Kuroo // Baby Halloween | Kita, Tsukishima // Baby Halloween | Suna, Osamu 

Warnings! Haikyuu dads with kids, post time skip

Konoha: 

“Is this thing on?” Konoha’s face was blurry right in front of the camera as he set the camera propped up on the staircase

“Yes, ‘Nori,” you laughed as you sipped your warm drink, filling your body with a nice fuzzy feeling despite being on the side side of the globe, away from your world

Your baby girl and your husband on her second halloween

The early years of her life were so precious and they were flying by so fast, you wished it could slow down just a bit but alas, time didn’t wait for anyone

“Alright,” he stepped back from the camera he propped up, flashily, the cape from his costume spreading and whooshing around him, revealing a special, galaxy themed box with cut out stars and a crescent moon

“Behold!” your husband called excitedly as he raised his arms, pulling a fake bouquet of flowers from his sleeve, pretending to give it to you

Despite you being on the other side of the world

“Wow, I loveee it,” you said painfully sarcastically as you broke into a fit of laughter seeing konoha make a face at you through the screen

Oh you just knew that if you were there, he would be tackling and tickling you, teasing you, asking you if he still loved it

But anyways

He tossed the fake bouquet to the side as he pulled a magic wand

“And now for my second and final trick, I will make the cutest little bunny appear,” he smiled, clearly mouthing a few words you couldn’t make out or hear you assumed to be your daughter in the box

“Alright, 1, 2, and 3! Abracadabra!” Konoha called

And as he said, the absolute cutest bunny of your daughter slowly sprung up in a little white bunny onesie with a pink headband

“What do we say to mommy?” Konoha knelt down, lifting her out of the box and set her down before him with her arms still raised

“D/N,” he turned her a little, his hand on her belly as he pointed to his phone on the stairs. “What do you say to mommy?”

She looked at him momentarily, placing her fingers slowly to her chin, her faint freckles matching his

He mouthed something to her once again before pulling her carefully close, whispering into her ear

“Peeboo!” She called somewhat hesitantly, her chubby cheeks rosy 

“No,” Konoha laughed as he sat back on his heels, “it’s peekaboo but close enough,” he snaked his arms around her and smothered kisses to her cheek, blowing raspberries and making her laugh 

your cheeks were tired from all the smiling you were doing, god it just made you want to hop on the next flight home 

he swept her off her feet in his arms and brought her to the stairs, sitting on them as she sat in his lap, leaning close to see you as much as possible 

though she may not have fully understood what you were doing or why you weren’t here at home at the moment, she just knew that seeing you, you were still here even though you were hundreds to thousands of kilometers away 

“mama, peeboo!” she called as she giggled her sweet angelic voice sounding into the tall staircase 

“we worked on that all morning,” Konoha sighed as he psuhed off her headband to play with her hair 

“but we’ll for sure nail it by the time you come back,” konoha smiled 

Sakusa: 

“Pumpum, are you ready?” Sakusa called out to his little girl as he heard the clutter of toys from her play room probably being spread all over the wooden floors

He slipped into his own shoes, tying them as he stayed knelt on the ground, a smile spreading to his face as he saw his little girl bounce towards him, skipping excitedly in her plush little pumpkin costume

“Yes!” She squealed, her raven hair that matched Sakusa’s, tied into little pigtails beside her head with a little pumpkin headband

The little headband that also matched Sakusa’s to which he used to push back his hair

“Alright, step in,” he undid the velcro straps to her light up shoes, securing them in

“Too tight?” He was able to sort of stick his finger into the side of the shoe entrance but that was fine

As soon as her shoes were on, she stomped around, playing with her shoes, using her hands to push her costume in so she could see

“Com here, pumpum,” Sakusa pat his thigh to which she hopped over and sat herself in

He pulled out the final touch, bringing out the annual custom mask and gloves he had prepared for her and himself to match the costumes since it was a tradition now for the three of you all to match

Though this year, business called and you were over seas

He secured the elastic band to the pumpkin mask on her face as well as his own

“Smile for mommy,” how own voice slightly muffled, though his practically had double the layers, as he took a mirror picture of him and his little pumpkin

Though his costume wasn’t really a costume but black pants and an ash gray turtleneck

He took the picture as well as multiple others with her orange jack-o-lantern that matched her costume, capturing aesthetically pleasing pictures of her to cherish forever

“Let’s go trick or treating.” He held her hand walking out the door, shutting the porch light off since one of you would usually be home to give out candy, mainly you since Sakusa didn’t want to interact with others

But alas, it was just the two of them this year

She bounced and ran about through the familiar neighborhood, seeing friends from her elementary school with their own parents following

The neighborhood was friendly as a gentle breeze blew through the streets every now and then, making all the various decorations of witches and spiders hanging on porches or in trees sway

“Daddy look!” he carried her as it was time to go home after almost an hour and a half of trick her treating

He followed her finger to a pile of pumpkins, all carved with funny faces on a neighbor’s lawn

“it’s us!” she giggled as she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder, her pigtail tickling his ear

But he didn’t mind as he carried the plastic container pretty full with candy

Sakusa could tell her energy was depleted as her bubbliness was no longer there as he set her down on the bench upon entering, slipping her out of her shoes and taking off her mask and gloves to be sterilized under a UV lamp

“Bath time,” he ushered her toward the bathroom, as she undressed herself while Sakusa sneaked away, hiding her jack-o-lantern of candy beneath the sink counter

And instead, replacing it with a special jack o-lantern he had always done every year so she would eat candy he was comfortable with and knew that it was clean and not handled by anyone else but him

She was his little pumpum after all and he wasn’t going to let any germs get to her

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

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#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu dads #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!! #konoha #konoha akinori #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #konoha imagines #konoha headcanons #konoha scenarios #konoha x reader #konoha akinori x reader #konoha akinori imagines #konoha akinori headcanons #konoha akinori scemarios #sakusa imagines #sakusa scenarios #sakusa x reader #sakusa headcanons #sakusa kiyoomi headcanons #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #sakusa kiyoomi scenarios #dokifluffs #haikyuu domestic

[reinersbb]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 [𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] Chapter Five- Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy PT.1

Chapter Five Part One of Forget

Orange, black, and purple plastic solo cups littered the dewy grass along with other miscellaneous speckles of trash- some cups still retaining remnants of alcohol. Only ten o'clock at night and there was already a headache of a cleanup worth of mess outside on the front lawn. There was no telling how much worse it would be on the inside where the heart and soul of the party was. But it's not like after-party cleanup would be your problem to deal with.

Carved jack-o-lanterns that were once originally placed along the long walkway leading up to the front door of the frat house were smashed and overturned. Stringy pumpkin guts and seeds clung to the porous pavement of the walkway, some of the pumpkin innards in the grass. A collection of large oak trees in the front lawn were decorated with ominous purple lights. The flickering light cascaded across the grass, bouncing off the glass of littered alcohol bottles.

As you transitioned onto the property from the bustling street of roaming party-goers from different frat homes all around, the music and shouts from within the home ahead of you seemed almost loud enough to shatter its' windows. The base of your heels clicked against the pavement out of excitement as you trailed up the property.

A gust of wind hit your overly exposed flesh, and a chill of excitement tickled your vertebrae. While you were pulling the silk robe you wore over your body to cover yourself, short wolf-whistles from a group of drunk party-goers who'd barely managed to stand up straight caught your attention. The intoxicated faces that wore skewed face paint waved to you, catcalling you, wanting nothing else but your attention, but, you ignored them and continued onto the covered porch. Anywhere away from the blabbering drunk so-and-so's who were floundering in the lawn is a place where you wanted to be.

The front door that belonged to the home was left completely open, and you couldn't tell if the people passing through were coming or going. But you pushed your way through and sure enough, you were finally inside and one with the chaos that was the Halloween party. You already knew that this party was more hectic than the last one you attended.

Spirits were high, and the energy emitting from the room you now stood in practically zapped you.

One look alone at the hoard of people around you had you wishing that you would've at least asked Ymir to cancel her late-night movie date with Historia so they could follow along with you tonight instead. You weren't sure if you could handle a party like this all by yourself.

Managing to shuffle away from the front door, you stood aside and reached for your phone that you'd been holding in your small purse. Taking a quick look around at all the flashy details of costumes, your eyes dug down at your phone screen.

Today 22:46 Hey Jean, I'm here...

Though it wasn't out of spite or pettiness, a handful of hours is how long you left Jean's messages on seen. You decided earlier in the day to take it upon yourself and show up and surprise him with your arrival instead of messaging beforehand so that way he wouldn't expect a thing.

After your message was sent, all you had to do was find Jean. Or he had to find you. Seemed simple enough, but with one look at the crowd, you knew it wouldn't be such an easy task to tackle. Even if Jean was nearby, how would you be able to pick him out of the crowd?

There were many, and if not all, people wearing costumes. Even if by chance you were to know tons of people, they'd be hardly recognizable to you. So trying to catch a face would be worthless.

A singular buzz from your phone had you checking your lock-screen within an instant. Sure enough, it was a response from Jean.

Jean: Where are you?

Just as you were about to start at your reply, the chat bubble from the receiving end disrupted you. But as you watched and waited, the chat bubbles disappeared without any further sign of reappearing.

Then somehow you heard Jean's voice shouting your name over the crowd.

But where?

You couldn't help but look like a maniac as you scanned your surroundings. You were trying to recall which direction you heard his tenor voice last when suddenly two large hands skewed your vision. Instantaneously your hands went flying upward, dropping your phone mid-process as you felt at his wrists as he stood close behind you.

You yelped a response, "Jean!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Jean's hands lowered from your face, allowing you to see clearly once again. "Let me get that," you watched as his hand reached for your phone that was on the ground.

Jean fell into your line of sight as you turned on your heel to face him. Both of you went wide-eyed as both of you took each other in, examining each other's costume. Your phone that was now dangling at his fingertips was almost dropped for a second time out of Jean's surprise.

"Are you... a cowboy?" You managed to make the first remark.

Covering Jeans' head was a worn chocolate brown cowboy hat, along with a matching colored mid-thigh coat. His hair was tucked under the hat, only the ends of his hair billowing out. Though like always, the black studded earrings were still imprinted in both his earlobes. A red paisley bandana covered up the neck of his button-up shirt. Dark faded blue jeans covered his long legs and a large belt buckle hung at his hips. The cuffs of his jeans swamped worn down brown pointed boots. His cheeks seemed to be more defined while somehow his facial hair seemed to be darkened and unruly.

His ruggedness was hot.

Jean cleared his throat before attempting to speak with his best cowboy impressions, "you betcha', cowgirl." Jean paused for a beat, mainly to gather his words, "now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm assuming you're dressed as a playboy bunny?"

"Bingo. How do you like my costume? Historia and Ymir helped me come up with the idea."

Promptly, you corrected your bunny ears that'd been pushed out of place from his surprise attack. Jean silently raked your appearance in from head to toe, his tongue caught on his lip as if he were about to say something but he hesitated, almost like he was nervous. Even if he was nervous, he most certainly wouldn't let you know that.

Eventually, he gulped, and through his parted lips he spoke, "I- I like it, your costume puts mine to shame. Also, I think the colors red and black suit you well."

If it weren't for the off-put lighting of different color hues, you would've been able to notice the radiating peach glow on his cheeks.

"Thanks, your cowboy costume isn't so bad either," you teased, tipping the front of his hat down over his brow line. "That's payback for making me drop my phone."

Jean chuckled, lifting the hat from his head, allowing the locks of his hair to fall across his forehead aimlessly. His long fingers ran through his hair, pushing his amber strands back before setting the cowboy hat back on his head.

After the quick readjustment, Jean's eyes were on you, "by the way, thanks for showing up tonight."

"Oh, it's no big deal," you admitted when in reality you'd spent hours getting ready, regardless of how nonchalant you'd made your previous statement out to be.

In the back of your mind, you wanted to look good tonight since you knew Jean would be at the party. You didn't care about the technicalities or the thoughts and ideas people would make of you from your attire alone.  But you wouldn't admit it.

You were uncertain for how long you had been staring at Jean for, that and you were also uncertain of close the two of you were standing next to each other until you were randomly pushed from behind by a passerby. Jean of course caught ahold of you as you went stumbling forward. Jean helped stabilize your footing by holding onto your arms.

There was a scowl on his face as he stared off into the crowd, searching for the person who carelessly bumped into you. The disgruntled look on his face was hardly noticeable if you weren't paying enough attention, but sure enough, there was a scowl on his face.

"Are you okay?" Jean's eyes were back on you, "they didn't even stop to apologize to you."

"It's alright, Jean, it's not like I got hurt or anything, and they're probably too drunk to function."

"You know you're probably right," even though it seemed like he didn't want to give up that easily, Jean carefully took ahold of your wrist, "will you follow me?"

You attempted to speak over the blaring background noise, "okay, where are we going?"

Jean turned his head back for only a second so he could respond as he began to walk, "you'll see."

The next room the two of you entered wasn't as packed as the entrance of the house, but still as lively. A table with solo cups at either side was folded out and there were two teams tossing ping pong balls back and forth, taking a drink from the orange solo cups when directed. A hoard of people surrounded the table, but you managed to get a vision of the action.

"Beer pong?" You talked over the commotion, taking a glance at Jean before back at the table.

"Have you ever played before?"

"Back in high school, I've played a handful of times but I completely sucked at the game. I haven't won, not even a single time."

"Let's see if your luck has changed any and see if we can break that losing streak of yours," Jean finally released your wrist to go talk to a man who'd been standing near the game table.

The unknown man was dressed in black pants and a white and black striped shirt, like one of those burglars you see in children's cartoons. Under a black beanie, he had blond hair and was built, his well-toned muscles were flexed as his arms wrapped around his chest while talking with Jean. Next to the blond was a much taller man, who was even taller than Jean by at least two to three inches, who wore a similar costume as the blond.

"Hey! Are you a friend of Jean?" An alto-toned voice called out from your right as you felt a knuckle tap on your shoulder.

A tall man with a freckle-kissed face and chocolate brown eyes beamed at you, his expression was laced with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. His hair was parted and styled like a man from the eighties, and he wore a red puffer jacket over a denim jacket. Instantly you thought he was dressed as Marty McFly from Back To The Future.

"I guess you could say that, yes," you said, unsure if a straight yes or no would be correct.

"Okay, cool! I'm Marco, Jean's best friend. I haven't seen you around before, where did you guys meet?"

"I met him through my mutuals at a party last Saturday-" you paused for a beat, remembering the first actual encounter you had with Jean. "Actually, the first time I ever met him is when I quite literally ran into him. It was horrible, I spilled my latte and everything."

You'd have Jean pay you back for that latte one day, even if you were the one that barged into him. And that was a promise.

Just then, those chocolate brown eyes of his flashed for a split second. His thick eyebrows rose and fell and the corners of his lips struggled to keep from lifting into a knowing smirk.

"Before I forget to ask, what is your name?"

Whenever you told Marco your name, his eyes darted over towards Jean's direction then back at you. There was a weird expression on his face that you couldn't put your finger on, it almost seemed like he knew something that you didn't.

Your eyebrow lifted, "what's the matter, Marco?"

"Marco!" Jean finally reappeared from the beer pong table, almost standing in between you and Marco.

Jean glanced at you and back to Marco.

"Wait, what were you two talking about?" Jean shifted towards you slightly, a shadow falling across his brow from the cowboy hat he was wearing.

His defensive side caused suspicion to arise inside of you. Had he been hiding something from you?

"We-"

You'd attempted to speak, but Marco beat you to it, "nothing, Jean, I was just introducing myself to your friend."

Jean stared at Marco for a few seconds, like he was carefully reading the man with chocolate eyes.

Suddenly, there was a loud cheer, almost like an explosion from the table. Then there was a harsh whistle that zipped through the other commotion which caught Jean's attention entirely.

"Jean! Come on, you're up against me and Bert," the same man that Jean was talking to previously informed.

"Come on," Jean motioned for you to follow him, "let's get you that win."

Across from you stood the same two men who Jean had been talking to previously. Apparently, the blond's name was Reiner and the other went by Bert, or Berty, however, the blond cooed. While Marco stood off to the side of both you and Jean, loaning you his friendly support and cheering both of you on.

As the game commenced, Jean stood close beside you the whole time, giving you a few tips and tricks here and there to help sink the ball. You noted how nice it felt when he held onto your wrist one time to imitate a fake swish. Or how nice it felt when you actually sunk a ball into a cup and Jean would congratulate you by pulling your body against him into a side hug.

You felt at the top of the world, soaring all high and mighty. There was a slight buzz kicking in already from the cups of beer you had to drink, and Jean even decided to help you out with most of them by downing the liquid. He'd pluck the cup up from the table, and before dipping his head back, he'd glance at you with a knowing look with his intense eyes over the brim of the cup.

Your fingers accidentally laced with his momentarily as you high-fived one another after Jean scored your team another point. Soon after your mini celebration was cut short, Jean rolled his eyes whenever Reiner's ball bounced into your team's orange cup. Reluctantly his slender fingers grasped the brittle material and downed the beer.

With the back of his wrist, he wiped the corners of his mouth, "we just need to score the last cup," Jean placed a hand on your shoulder, his excited eyes staring into yours.

"What if I mess up?" You kept your eyes only on Jean.

"You won't."

With that, you sucked a breath in through your nose and exhaled steadily. The music was continuously bumping in the background while you rinsed off your ball in the discard cup. Your chest was thumping, and there was a ringing sensation beginning to sound.

The game was currently tied up. One to one. Reiner and Bert stood adjacent to you and Jean. Both men waved their hands in front of the cup as you aimed for the center.

Once the ball was tossed and in mid-air after its' first bounce, their hands ripped away, and almost as if it were playing in slow motion, the ball landed in the cup. The contents sloshing around slightly on impact as your ball sank into the depths of the plastic. Reiner sighed and plucked the ball out and drank the beer from the remaining cup you happened to score.

An eruption of emotions spilled out of you and everyone else around you. To your surprise, you felt Jean ease his arms around you, swiftly lifting you and spinning you in a victory hug. Naturally, you melted into Jean's touch as he held you up from the ground.

"We did it, Jean! Thank you so much for believing in me."

"It's no problem, I knew that you could do it, but I do enjoy the praise."

If it weren't for Eren walking up and interrupting both of you, the moment of celebration with Jean would've lasted much longer.

You would've preferred that outcome.

"Jean, Marco," A slap on Jeans' shoulder came from Eren, "I've been looking for you two and everyone else, Porco wants us downstairs," Eren was practically already shit-faced.

When Eren's shiny emerald eyes caught ahold of yours, he stopped to smile and greet you. He couldn't believe that he'd overlooked you for that short moment.

"You- a playboy bunny? Damn, if I would've known you'd come dressed as that I would've come dressed as Hugh Hefner," Eren held a bottle pointed at you as he took your appearance in, "don't be a stranger, you should join us downstairs."

"Now, you don't have to if you don't want to."

"It's okay, Jean," you reassured the tall figure, "it sounds like it will be fun."

Your heels clapped against the hard flooring after stepping away from Jean who finally let you back onto the ground. Instead of walking with Jean, you stayed behind him as he walked with Marco, and Eren was already way ahead of the two men. You enjoyed watching Jean and Marco converse from behind, and also you noticed how lively they seemed to be when talking to each other.

Much to your Amusement, you immediately noticed out of the crowd of people in the basement that both Connie and Sasha were wearing matching crayon costumes. Connie was the color green and Sasha was yellow.

"Over here, you guys!" Connie practically fell over his own feet as he grabbed your small group's attention.

Though, another face, another painstakingly familiar face caught your attention.

'Why the hell is he here?'

Floch never showed up to parties, so why now of all times?

You stilled in your tracks, unsure of what to do. Do you approach the group and be awkward because of your ex-boyfriend? Or do you stop, turn around, and head back out instantly without another word spoken?

You noticed when Jean turned his head over his shoulder to look back at you, almost like he somehow noticed or felt a shift in the atmosphere around your group. His lips turned from a crooked smirk from talking to Marco into a slight frown as he gazed at you. Jean paused from marching alongside Marco to glide back and meet up with you.

Naturally, Marco turned on his heel to question what was up and why both of you stopped following, and all Jean did was encourage him to carry on and that the two of you would only take a second.

You appreciated Jean's concerns, but you didn't know what to say to him, what could you possibly say to him without making him uncomfortable?

"What's wrong?" Jean asked as he finally approached you.

"He," your eyes found comfort by staring at the ground you were standing on, "he's here."

"What do you mean?" Jean looked around momentarily before looking back at you, "who's here?"

There wasn't much time to waste, not if you wanted to make your conflicting emotions noticeable to the others who were waiting for all four of you to join them. You definitely didn't want Floch to notice how bothered you were by his presence.

What was he doing here anyway? He never was the one to attend parties, he even said so himself.

"My ex-boyfriend," you spoke dryly, almost unable to be heard if Jean weren't listening well enough.

Without another word spoken, you lifted your head, Jean took the cue to follow your eyes where Floch was seated. You watched as the redhead enjoyed a beverage from his orange cup, laughing at something with a man with short brown hair, whom you didn't recognize.

"Who? That guy is your ex?" Jean asked, paying close attention to you while gesturing towards Floch.

"Yeah, the redhead, I didn't think he'd be here tonight," you exhaled an uneasy breath of air, "he was never the one for parties. God, I don't want him to ruin my night, I've been having so much fun and-"

"So then don't let him ruin your night," Jean took ahold of your hand, interlacing your fingers with his, "I have an idea."

Your eyes flashed with excitement at the hand-to-hand contact with Jean, "what's your idea?"

Jean's stern eyes softened for a split second, almost like he were telling you to trust him. Without any debate on the matter, you swallowed your nerves and squeezed Jean's fingers with your own, embracing the comforting heat of his palm on yours. You could only notice how relaxed your hand was in his, the feeling was familiar and soothing, something you could get used to if given the chance.

"Hey guys," Jean spoke to the large friend group, taking a seat beside Marco on the couch.

The group of people was much larger this time around. You recognized some faces from previous encounters at the last party, while some faces you hadn't seen before, and some were completely unrecognizable due to their costumes. More people were standing idly by away from your group talking to one another, some were dancing, and there were others preoccupied at the wet bar. You noticed that there was a small group huddled around a pool table, but decided to_ ignore_ the pool table.

Without anywhere else to sit due to limited space around, you hesitated briefly until Jean pulled you onto his lap. With a squeal, you adjusted yourself, crossing your legs quaintly as you delicately sat on his lap. This whole time from holding hands with Jean till now you've avoided looking towards the direction Floch was sitting in, but you noticed that his lips had gone still, and movement of his had ceased.

Maybe he was jealous by seeing you and Jean together, hand in hand. But that was a good thing, right?

Jean's large palm draped on your hip delicately, no, hesitantly, almost like he was unsure to touch you. His palm hovered across the material of your silk robe, feeling the intricate indentations of the more risqué undergarments underneath. He didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable by the way he was holding onto you, all he could do was hope you wouldn't mind. But, considering your past encounter with Jean, he thought something so simple as having his hand placed on your hip didn't match up to the extremity of the last personal encounter you two shared.

Connie and Sasha struck up a conversation with you as soon as you were comfortably seated. Jean and Marco casually joined in on the conversation and all five of you sat talking amongst yourselves out of the group of well over a dozen.

There were the occasional cut-ins from Eren or the blond whose name was Armin that you'd seen from yesterday, but you didn't mind. There was also a man who was named Niccolo that appeared from upstairs who joined in, he brought two beers with him and wiggled his way to sit in between Sasha and Connie, mostly leaning into Sasha though as he gave her one of the beverages he'd been holding. The more the merrier you thought.

As long as it wasn't Floch joining in, you didn't mind.

The conversation was cut to a halt when a man with dirty blond hair that was slicked back cleared his throat to speak. The blond wore a black leather jacket, with a white t-shirt underneath and faded blue jeans covering his legs. Sitting next to him was another male who wore a similar matching costume, sans jacket and his hair was only a little messier than the blonds, with his hair falling out of place but still kept back. They looked to be dressed like a character out of the book _The Outsiders, _like greasers.

"How about we all play a little game?"

"What kind of game, Pock?" A woman with thick black hair asked, her arm lazily dragged across the man's shoulder as she tipped her head out of curiosity.

"Pieck, I told you to stop calling me that," the blond seemed to be easily frustrated by the single comment.

Which only resulted in a soft laugh from Pieck, "alrighty then, Porco."

The irritate state seemed to blow over quickly, and Porco now was back on track with his original train of thought, "anyways, I was thinking of..." Porco glanced around the vast group for a moment, "a little game of truth or dare?"

"Truth or dare? Don't you think that's a little middle schoolish, baby brother?" The man sitting beside him with brown hair asked playfully, visibly striking a nerve in Porco.

"Shut up," Porco hissed at his brother, "it's my party, so I get the say in what we do, so if _you _don't like it, Marcel, then you can leave. It's as easy as that," Porco pulled a bottle of bud light to his lips before tipping his head back to take a drink. "And that goes for everyone else too, if you don't like it, then leave."

Though, with the invitation to leave if warranted, no one got up from their seat. And you could tell that Jean hadn't even considered the option of leaving since he made no effort to move, and neither did you. But, naturally, you turned your head over your shoulder just to ask him and make sure. What you didn't anticipate was the proximity that both of your faces would be to each other once you turned to look back at him.

You stilled on Jean's lap, the breath you sucked in practically caught in your throat at his closeness, "Jean," you almost asked in a hushed tone, "do you want to play?"

"Of course," his smile disappeared briefly, but not because he was unhappy, "I mean unless you don't then we can go somewhere-"

"No," you smiled, aimlessly turning back to face the crowd as you'd once been, "I'd like to play, all I need is a drink to start the pace," you admitted, eyes falling onto Floch after turning back forward.

————————

"You have to do the dare, Bert," the man from the opposing team you played against earlier, who you now knew as Reiner, spoke out, encouraging his tall friend and the girl he was with.

Currently, Bertholdt was to take a body shot off of the girl's stomach. The poor boy was flustered out of his mind, his tan cheeks were a deep shade of pink as he leaned towards the girl. Bert dipped down to her naval, sucking out the alcohol from her belly button. Whistles and cheers sounded out from the crowd when Bert pulled his face back, downing the shot of booze.

"Atta champ," Reiner slapped Bertholdt on his back, causing Bert to cough up a sputter on the alcohol that lingered in his throat.

Bertholdt shrugged his shoulder over his mouth, eliminating any residual of alcohol on his lips.

Currently, you were a few turns in of a modified version of truth or dare. But instead of truths, there were only dares, or you had to take a drink for bailing. The game and its' rules reminded you of the spin-the-bottle game you played last Saturday.

"Drink or dare," you scanned across the crowd, thinking of a victim to pick, "Sasha."

"Dare, obviously," she elbowed Connie in the rib playfully, waiting to hear the poison you picked for her.

A mischievous grin developed on your eager lips, you had just the dare in mind for Sasha.

"I dare you to go lock yourself in a room with Niccolo for ten minutes," you pointed to a room just a few feet away from your group.

Niccolo sputtered out of embarrassment, he was surprised that you'd dare Sasha to do something like that. But Sasha, she wasn't the one to complain over a dare. So, she hopped up on her feet and waited for Niccolo to follow.

Though you only crafted this dare mostly as a joke, you knew well that this dare would also help the two jump-start their relationship in the right direction. You came to that conclusion solely by observing how the two had been interacting with each other so far.

Niccolo seemed to be interested in Sasha but, of course, was hesitant, while Sasha on the other hand was oblivious to Niccolo's advances.

Before Sasha entered the nearby room, she shot you a glance, a glance that could read 'you'll pay for this later.'

After receiving quick congratulatory praise from Eren and Connie due to daring Sasha and Niccolo to do such a thing, both men signaled to Jean that it was now his turn to dare someone.

"Who's it going to be, Jean?" pulling your chin back over your shoulder, you stopped to look at the man you were sitting on.

His fingers that were slack against you suddenly gripped your body slightly. Jean's index finger vaguely tapped against you where he held onto, before combing all fingertips against your flesh in a soothing manner.

Without a second glance around the room, Jean spoke with his head slightly tilted, his eyes on and only on you, "I dare you to kiss me."

#attack on titan #Jean #jean smut #Jean Kirschstein #aot smut #jean kirschtein smut

[bloody-merry]

@the-arkham-librarian​

She’d been doing so well, too.

For two whole weeks, that stupid thing thrived while she cared for it under Jonathan’s supervision. A dumb, stupid orchid -- pure white in a little clay pot shaped like a jack-o-lantern. Of course, it was very pretty sitting in the corner of the fume hood in Jonathan’s lab, drinking up the UV lights hanging over it and enjoying the humidity maintained therein.

Passing it by one afternoon after class, she spotted what appeared to be a spider the size of a human head resting inert on the inside of the plastic closure to the fume hood. Blinking, stunned by what she was seeing, she slowly inched  forward, hand shakily reaching out to take hold of the handle and thrust the thing upward to reveal the grotesque shape against it.

But just as she pulled it up, the shape was nowhere to be found. Just orchids and warm, moist air.

So she looked for the thing she’d seen resting against the plastic for hours, fruitlessly. In the morning, she awoke in the lab, curled up on the shabby sofa kept for just such occasions, and realized something dreadful.

All of Jonathan’s orchids -- and her own -- had wilted in the toxic, dry air of the lab.

Fumbling to her phone, she types out a hurried set of messages, her phone making the customary bloops as she goes.

SMS [💕MOM✨]: ELIZA I FUCKED UP. SMS [💕MOM✨]: I FUCKEN KILLED EM ALL SMS [💕MOM✨]: RIP JON’S FLOWERS. RIP TO ME. FUCK!!

#;threads #the-arkham-librarian

[thisbrokenmask]

Trick or Treat

pairing: female reader x kim seokjin

genre: romance, humour

word count: 3,233

rating: PG-13 i guess?

warnings: the beginnings of heavy petting, seokjin is dressed like clark kent

summary: you’re not a fan of Halloween, normally leaving your building’s trick or treaters in the capable hands of your trusty plastic skeleton, Frank, while you enjoy a hot bath, a film and a bottle of wine. this year, however, Jin unexpectedly shows up at your door and you find he’s not an unwelcome addition to your plans for the evening. 

a/n: I don’t really know where this came from, but Happy Halloween! 

written for my ‘Trick or Treat’ prompt for @btsholidaybingo​

Stepping into the elevator of your apartment building, you’re careful to avoid the fake webbing spread over the paneling as you press the button for the third floor. With your left hand, you absentmindedly tap out the rhythm of a song that’s been stuck in your head all day around the handles of a small grocery bag, a few treats picked up on the way home to reward yourself for once again resisting losing your temper at your annoying colleague this week. As you wait for the elevator to rise, you take your phone out of your pocket to browse through some social media, seeing if any of your friends have posted pictures of their costumes yet. While you’re disappointed not to see Jungkook’s face covered in fake blood or Namjoon and his girlfriend posing in matching horror novel-themed costumes just yet, you do find yourself being drawn to a few celebrity’s images who have already posted their outfits.

With a sigh you’re locking your phone again and swapping it for your keys, desperate for the moment you can shut your door behind you and lock it for the evening. Despite yourself, though, you can’t help the small smile that pushes at your lips as you take in the drawings that have been put up by some of the kids in the building; grimacing pumpkins and wailing ghosts wishing the other residents a ‘Happy Halloween’.

You’re quietly relieved that the hallway on your floor is currently empty. You figure the building’s kids have started on the bottom floor and are making their way up, especially when you can hear the distant delighted screams and giggles echoing up the stairwell, so you’ve made it in time to avoid the begging eyes of children promised free sweets for their dressing up efforts. 

The sight of your door, the only one completely bare of any fake spiders or red-paint handprints, brings a wave of relief over you, tension slipping from your shoulders already at just the thought of running a hot bath to soak away the stress of the work week. Friday has come at just the right time once again; even if tonight is Halloween, you’re still intent on carrying out your plans of bath, wine, movie and sleep.  

It’s not that you hate Halloween. It’s just… you are strongly indifferent to Halloween. It was never a holiday that you took part in growing up, even with your older sister dressing up and going to parties every year throughout her teenage years and your parents always happily opening up the door for the neighbourhood kids out trick or treating. Other than not liking scary films, there isn’t really anything you hold against the annual appearance of carved pumpkins and the ridiculous unbranded costumes. You’re just not bothered. 

You place your shopping on the kitchen counter once you make your way into your home, flicking a few lights on as you go. The bottle of wine goes in the fridge, along with a bar of your favourite chocolate that you only indulge in every once in a while. You sit the unopened bag of crisps in a bowl, ready to open them when you settle in for your movie later, and then move on to the final step in your evening plans before locking up. 

The one Halloween-themed decoration you have is a standing skeleton, no taller than waist height, his hands outstretched in front of him. The same year you bought your bony guardian, who you have affectionately named Frank for no reason in particular, you also picked up a bright orange plastic bowl decorated on one side with a jack-o-lantern’s jagged grin, and it’s this bowl that you fill with a few bags of wrapped sweets and place in Frank’s upturned hands after slipping a small sign over his arms to hang below the bowl. 

Frank and his sugary cargo is carried lovingly out into the corridor and placed beside your door, and you make sure the sign is sitting far enough forward that it’s still visible: 

“Please don’t knock or ask for tricks or treats - instead you can help yourself to Frank’s bowl of sweets!”

Satisfied with your little set up, you finally allow yourself to lock your door and head towards your bathroom. You’ve used this set up for the last few years that you’ve lived in your building and, other than a little bit of confusion in the first year, it’s worked like a charm. The few parents who spoke to you in the days following Halloween were appreciative of the fact that you still put something out for their overexcited kids and quietly confessed that they didn’t blame you for not wanting to keep opening your door throughout the evening. After the second year, Frank became somewhat of a building celebrity, and now you’re quite happy knowing that the kids look forward to seeing him every year. They know you more as The Christmas Lady, given your clear preference and enthusiasm for the winter holidays, and a few suspect the Easter Bunny lives with you and Frank, too. 

Pouring in a generous amount of your favourite vanilla chai bubble bath, you take a deep breath of the rising scents of vanilla, cloves and cinnamon and start unbuttoning your blouse as you walk to your bedroom, leaving the water to run. You grab your fluffiest dressing gown and your favourite pyjamas, setting them out on the top of your bathroom hamper ready for when you finish your bath, before undressing completely. Your discarded clothes go in the hamper before you perch on the edge of the tub, running your hands through the water to check the temperature and fluff up the bubbles. 

You ignore the first knock on your front door, assuming that, like always, there’s one person who hasn’t read Frank’s sign. As a rule, you never open your door and Halloween night, sure that anyone who is confused will either figure it out or give up and move on. 

Turning off the water, you get ready to step into the steaming, bubbly water and melt your troubles of the week away when a second, more insistent knocking comes from your front door. With a sigh, you grab your dressing gown and slip it on as you make your way to the front door, tying off the belt as you look out through your peephole to see is bothering you. 

To your surprise, you’re met with a grown man and no children. He’s dressed in a simple suit, a white shirt under a black blazer, but with the top few buttons undone you can see a blue t-shirt poking out. His square-rimmed glasses frame his wide eyes, his dark hair pushed back with one small section styled to fall back down over his forehead. You roll your eyes as you unlock your door, stepping back as you open it with a smirk and lean against the frame.

“Hey, Jin,” the man in question straightens up at the sound of his name, pushing his chest out slightly and placing a hand on his hip. The other is holding a paper bag, at the top of which you’re pretty sure you spot another bottle of wine. 

“Ma’am,” he says with a curt nod in your direction, a playful glint in his eyes and a matching smirk on his plump lips. 

You’ve been seeing Jin for the last couple of months, not quite officially a couple yet but definitely enjoying each other’s company on a regular basis. This wasn’t the first time he’d turned up unannounced, especially since he’d found out you’d been having a stressful time at work over the last few weeks, but you definitely weren’t expecting to see him tonight, not when Namjoon was hosting a party. 

Namjoon was your mutual friend and the person who had introduced you to Jin, the two men becoming quick friends when Jin had transferred into Namjoon’s department earlier in the year. He hadn’t introduced the two of you with the intention of setting you up to date, but had simply invited Jin along to a few nights out over the summer, his new colleague quickly being adopted by the rest of your friendship group. 

So for Jin to show up at your apartment, a decidedly Halloween-free zone, rather than a party, was indeed a bit of a surprise. 

“Can I help you?” you ask innocently, folding your arms over your chest. 

“Guess who I am first,” he challenges, pushing his shoulders back to puff out his chest just a little bit more. You make a show of looking him up and down, exaggerating a frown.

“Hmm, Patrick Bateman?” 

“He doesn’t even wear glasses!” Jin’s shoulders deflate as he whines, disappointment evident on his face that you can’t help but giggle at. 

“Yes, he does,” you point out, thinking back to Christian Bale’s portrayal of the serial killer. “And it would make more sense to be dressed as him for Halloween: Superman isn’t even scary.”

“You don’t like scary,” Jin points out and your heart flutters slightly that he knows that already, a gentle blush rising in your cheeks. 

“Yes, well, true as that may be, you haven’t answered my question,” you shuffle slightly on the spot to try and hide how flustered he makes you so easily, but the smile tugging at his lips lets you know that he’s already aware. 

“Well, I-”

“Hey!” a small shout down the hall startles you both, the two of you turning to see one of the little girls you recognise from the floor above you, a usually-charming little lady called Maisie. Clearly having run ahead of her parents and younger brother, she’s stood at the top of the stairs, watching you both intently. She’s dressed in what you would consider to be a classic witch costume, with stripy black and purple tights under the puffball skirt of a black dress, a pointed black hat sat on her blonde curls. She has green face paint on and a cape flowing out behind her, a plastic broom in one hand, a small plastic pumpkin already half-filled with goodies in the other. She points her broom handle at Jin, and the grown man in front of you even jumps slightly at the young fury in her eyes. “You’re not supposed to knock on Christmas Lady’s door!” she cries, and if you weren’t so shocked you might laugh at the image of a child defending your honour from someone as gentle as Jin. “You’re meant to go to Frank, he’s in charge of Halloween!” 

Jin’s floundering on the end of the five year-old’s glare and you’re touched that Maisie has not only remembered your traditional delegation of Halloween responsibilities to your plastic skeleton, but she believes Jin is bothering you by breaking those rules. 

“It’s okay, Maisie,” you assure her and she lowers her broom, although her eyes stay pinned on Jin. “He’s a friend, I was just letting him in.” 

“You were?” hope is evident in Jin’s voice when he turns to you, a bright smile lighting up his eyes. 

“Yes,” you say as you quickly usher him in before Maisie can ask any more questions, and he slips through the door beside you to enter your apartment. “Thank you for remembering the rules, though, Maisie,” the little girl’s face immediately melts from a frown into a sheepish smile. “Although maybe don’t shout next time, okay?” she nods quickly, her pointed hat wobbling on her head as she promises you that she won’t. “I’m sure Frank wouldn’t mind you taking a few extra sweeties for remembering Halloween is his favourite time of year, though.” You wink and she giggles, skipping over to carefully pick out her favourites from the bright orange bowl. 

Just as you wish her a happy Halloween, you see her parents come up the stairwell and offer them a polite wave, which they return as Maisie skips over to them to tell them Frank gave her extra treats this year. 

You head back into your apartment, locking the door once again with a sigh and turning to your new houseguest, who stands on the edge of your kitchen, watching you with a smile. 

“Sorry for causing trouble,” he smirks and you grin, shaking your head. 

“Don’t worry about it. Maisie’s a sweetheart, really.” You eye him carefully, finally able to appreciate the exquisite cut of his suit that makes him look like he walked straight off of a photoshoot. “So, really, what did you want?”

“Oh!” Jin offers you the paper bag he’s still holding with a flourish and a tinge of pink in his cheeks. “Namjoon said you don’t like parties, so I thought I’d bring you a little care package.” Your fingers brush as you take the bag and you resist the urge to take a hold of his hand instead, a tingle of anticipation shooting up your arm and flourishing in your chest. “I also thought you might like some company, so,” Jin adjusts his glasses to hide his nervousness, worried you might turn him away even though he’s now stood in your apartment and you look down to inspect the contents of the bag to hide the growing flush on your face. There is indeed a bottle of wine, a more expensive label of your favourite rosé, as well as what seems to be some fancy take-out boxes containing slices of cheesecake. 

You’re used to being alone on Halloween, most of your closest friends opting to go out for alcohol-soaked parties or spend time with their partners instead, so you’re not quite sure how to react to the idea that someone has willingly given up one of the biggest party nights of the year to be with you. 

“It’s just Halloween parties I don’t like,” you smile sheepishly, moving further into the kitchen to put the wine and food in the fridge to chill. “Or Halloween at all, really.”

“Really?” You nod shyly, already internally wincing at the slew of objections you normally get when you state your indifference towards the spooky holiday. “What were you planning on doing instead, then?” The ease with which Jin simply accepts it and moves on surprises you, and you find your heart beating a little bit faster as he looks at you with genuine curiosity. 

You suddenly remember your outfit, pulling the lapels of your dressing gown together a little tighter across your chest. You and Jin have shared several heated moments over the time you’ve known each other, and while his hands may have slipped under your top and climbed higher up your back a few times, he’s never seen you in any state of undress. 

“I was actually going to have a bath,” you say, tucking your hair behind your ear, a nervous laugh escaping you. “I was literally about to get in before you knocked.” 

“Oh right, erm,” Jin has the good graces to look embarrassed, shuffling his feet awkwardly as he struggles to figure out where to look. The two of you stand on opposite sides of your small kitchen, neither of you quite sure what to do. You wonder if he felt the same shift in the air as you did at the idea of you being naked on the other side of the door when he arrived. “So are you, erm…” Jin vaguely gestures towards you, cheeks burning red as he stumbles over his words. “Are you still going to-? I mean, do you want to-? Do you want me to-?” 

Seeing Jin, a man usually so effortlessly confident, struggling to keep his cool around you gives you a strange surge of confidence that you can’t explain but don’t dismiss, leading you to cut him off with a single, straightforward question. 

“Would you like to join me?”

You giggle at the way Jin falls silent, mouth still open mid-sentence. You take the belt of your robe between your fingers, gently teasing at the idea of undoing it for him, watching his eyes drop down to follow the action. You see his jaw tense and he swallows, and when his eyes lift back up to yours they are significantly darker than they were before, his tongue slipping out across his bottom lip before he bites it. And just like that, the stuttering man is gone. 

“Would you like me to?”

“Would I ask if I didn’t?” you cock your eyebrow as he crosses the room towards you, eyes unabashedly raking up and down your form. You’ve never considered your fluffy dressing gown to be one of your sexier outfits, but Jin is quickly making you reconsider those thoughts as he tentatively places a hand on your hip, fingers gently stroking the fabric. You can’t pull your eyes away from his, the dark heat in his eyes boring into yours and stoking the fire burning in your abdomen.

“Better take this off then, hadn’t we?” you feel his hands cover yours, long fingers gently prying yours away from the strip of fabric keeping him from your body. The adrenaline pulsing in your veins gives you a better idea, however, and you dip out of his grasp to make your way back towards your bathroom. With a coy smile on your lips, you gently undo the knot yourself and slowly let the fabric fall from your shoulders, exposing your naked form to his eyes. He’s frozen in the middle of your kitchen, so you give him a beckoning curl of your finger before slowly stepping out of his field of vision. 

Biting your lip, you pray you haven’t jumped the gun and taken this relationship a step too far too soon, but the gentle footsteps that begin to follow you assure you that he’s definitely interested. You enjoy the feeling of the air against your skin with the sway of your hips, pausing at the entrance to the bathroom to look back over your shoulder. 

The sight of Jin unbuttoning his shirt as he follows you sends another bolt of heat through you, although the sight of his Superman shirt underneath does make you burst out laughing. He blushes, laughing nervously as he shrugs off the shirt, but your laughter soon dies in your throat as he quickly lifts the t-shirt off over his head in one quick motion. Seeing his bare chest for the first time shuts you up pretty quickly, the expanse of skin combined with his black trousers, black glasses and black, styled hair leaving you almost drooling over him. 

WIth a bite of your lip you wait for him to come to you, your hands immediately reaching out to touch him with an eagerness you don’t even care to hide. It’s returned, though, as Jin’s hands immediately find your waist and pull you close. His face is mere millimetres from yours, breaths ghosting over each other’s cheeks before he ducks his head to bury his face in your neck. The gentle press of his lips against your skin makes you gasp, the heat of his mouth melting any remaining hesitation you still held. 

Your fingertips brush over the muscles of his abdomen, his breath catching as you tease the sensitive skin of his hips before gripping onto his belt and pulling him into the bathroom, the heat between the two of you adding to the already steamy room.

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