A/N: I might have teared up about this bc like IMAGINE your life is listless and dull and you can’t see or hear the beautiful things and then you see GREEN and you hear birds and dogs and my goodness you are incredibly colorful and beautiful
Rating: T
Warning: Some mentions of sex. Reader is rather depressed and probably everyone else who hasn’t fallen in love yet also is.
Word count: 794, apparently!!
Prompt: Silence from day eight of @blackirisposts October Challenge
Summary: You live in a world where everything is grey and beautiful sounds cannot be heard if you haven’t met the love of your life yet. Enter Poe.
GIF credit: I have no idea, but it isn’t mine.
-----------------------------
Your life was typical.
You worked in an office from eight to four every weekday and usually went out on Friday or Saturday night to have a drink.
Or six.
It took six drinks for you to forget how lifeless everything was.
You would be buzzed enough to be unaware of the few shades of black and white that the world was, buzzed enough to not care that you couldn't hear the music in the bar or the clinks of glasses.
A man would usually saunter over and you, longing to feel something meaningful for once, would kiss him and invite him to your apartment that was decorated in things that you didn't fully know what they looked like.
The sex was fine. It was pretty nice, even though moans were apparently too pleasant for you to understand what they sounded like and the bed remained silent no matter what.
You'd gone to bed with a man named Poe that night and it was probably the best sex you had with the strongest connection, but you really wished you knew what he looked like entirely.
What color are trees? you asked your mother when you were young.
Green, she said as if you knew what that meant.
You wanted to know what green looked like; was it like a warm day or a cold one? Sweet food or savory? Soft cotton or rough sand paper? A hug or kiss
And what about blue? And red? Purple? Pink? Yellow? Brown?
There were nights where you dreamt that you could see color, but everything was still completely grey.
Maybe you should have been glad when some trilling sound woke you up from yet another dream where you were sure you would be able to see the colors if you focused.
You put your pillow over your face, closing your eyes tightly and trying to go back to sleep.
And then you realized.
The pillow was thrown across the room as you sat up and looked in the direction of the sound, seeing a bird outside your window.
A bright, beautiful bird.
You ran to the window and scared the little thing away when you shoved it open, but there were too many gorgeous sounds for you to care.
Cars were zooming by and making a noisy honking sound, dogs on leashes were barking loudly, a man was whistling as he walked down the street, and church bells were chiming in the distance.
Everything was brightly colored and you spun around to look at the many colors you had no idea were in your bedroom, gaze landing on the sheets of your bed.
They were dark green; you didn't know that. You knew that it looked how a warm day felt, how savory food tasted, how cotton smoothed under your fingertips, and how hugs made you feel loved.
You walked over to run your hands over it with tears in your eyes.
Then you touched a form under the sheets, the back of Poe who was still sleeping in your bed. You stroked over the light tan skin of his arm and eagerly ran your fingers through his dark hair — you had pulled on his hair many times during the night and there was something different when you could see the deep color.
Was he the one? Was that why you could see and hear everything in all its beauty, him being one of the most beautiful?
He stretched and hummed, peeking over his shoulder at you.
His eyes roamed around the room then back to you.
"Is it me or is everything in color?"
"And birds are singing." You leaned into his touch as he sat up and caressed your cheek, obviously coming to the same conclusion as you.
"It's you."
"It's you."
"Your eyes are beautiful."
"My eyes..."
You had been too astonished by everything around you to even think of finding out what you looked like in color.
Sliding off the bed, you ran to your closet and hurriedly opened it to look at yourself in the mirror on the back of the door.
Poe followed behind you to see himself, but really only watched you touch your hair and look closely at your irises.
Tears began falling from your newly colorful eyes.
"I'm pretty," you sobbed.
"You're beautiful. I thought you couldn't be more beautiful than you were last night—"
Poe's words cut off in your mouth as you turned around and slammed your lips against his.
He wasted no time in wrapping an arm around your waist, kissing you again and again as you paused to whisper compliments and thank yous to each other.
You were starting to worry about Vergil. Ever since the twins returned from Hell with their newfound truce, it seemed like he’d lost his oh-so-coveted motivation. He drifted around the shop like a listless ghost when he and Dante were between jobs. You tried to distract him with books to read or other such mind-occupying tasks, but still he remained almost a watermark version of himself. Eventually, you had to just ask him about it.
To which he chuckled quietly and squeezed your hand. “I’m alright, my dear.”
“Are you sure? You’re never this . . . passive.”
“Save yourself the worry. It’s true; my thirst for revenge--both against Dante and against Mundus--was a driving factor for most of my life, but I’m learning how to move on and live . . . differently.”
“Then what’s been going on with you?” Maybe I’ve just been misreading the signs of something else bothering him.
Another quiet chuckle. “That is a much more, shall we say, human issue than my old bloodlust. I have been trying to figure something out on my own, but had I known it was affecting me so much you would worry I would have been more upfront.” He seemed to mostly be thinking aloud as he spoke. However, his eyes quickly zeroed in on you once again with that laser focus he seemed to be missing lately. “My dear . . .”
Your eyes stretched as wide as dinner plates as he knelt down in front of you. “Vergil . . .” You bit one of your knuckles in a (pointless) attempt to keep your eyes from welling up.
“Now you see my dilemma?” he smirked. “I’ve been trying to come up with a suitable way to ask you, but I suppose the Dante method was the best this time. Will you marry me, dearest?”
You couldn’t even hope to contain the smile that showed through your now-flowing tears. A laugh bubbled up out of your throat. “Why were you so worried?”
“Foolishness on my part.”
“Of course I will, you idiot.”
A smile tugged at his lips, a rare, honest smile. “Perhaps Dante isn’t the only idiot in the house sometimes,” he admitted, using his free hand to wipe your tears once he was back on his feet.
Another giggle left you. “I love you so much, but I’m telling him you said that as soon as I see him next.”
Written for the October writing challenge created by @blackirisposts !
day thirty-one: costume/masquerade
word count: 447
"Boo!"
Bede almost pokes his own eye out with the eyeshadow brush he's holding, and leaps about twenty feet into the air. He slams a hand over his mouth to muffle his startled yelp, turning around to bitch at whoever decided startling him would be fun, but stops in his tracks when he sees who it is.
"Did I get you?" Hop asks excitedly, bouncing on his toes with a wide grin, "I didn't think I'd actually startle you like that!"
Every single thing that Bede could have possibly said dies in his throat, because Hop looks startlingly good as a prince. Of course, Hop always looks startlingly good, costume or not, but he'll die before he says that.
"Yes," he mutters after careful consideration, "I almost poked my eye out with an eyeshadow brush. I could've lost an eye."
There's no malice in his voice; he's not actually upset, of course, just a little bit peeved about potentially losing an eye whilst trying to do his makeup.
"But you didn't!" Hop protests, taking the opportunity to hug Bede. Although incredibly flustered, he returns the hug, already two seconds away from exploding, "I think your makeup looks really good! The dark lipstick is a nice touch!"
Bede is now very sure that he's blushing like a madman, and he's been talking to Hop for a grand total of one whole minute. He's an absolute disaster. How do people deal with having feelings?
"Thanks," he mutters after managing to suppress how truly flustered he is, "I wasn't sure about it, actually, but I'm glad it doesn't look half bad."
"It looks great! Actually, now that I think of it, I have an idea..." Hop says, still smiling at Bede like a crazy person.
"Oh no."
"Hey! It's a good idea!" Hop protests, "You should kiss me on the cheek so it leaves a mark! You know, I'm a prince, right? So it's like, I've gotten a kiss from another absolutely dashing man."
Bede basically dies. Not literally, of course, but he's about five seconds away from exploding. Or crying. One of the two.
"I mean, if you're not comfortable, that's fine too! It was just a-"
Before Hop can finish, Bede musters up the courage to quickly press his lips to his cheek, quickly turning away. Fuck. His face has to be as red as a fucking strawberry right now.
"Awesome! Thanks!" Hop exclaims, returning the favour before Bede can say anything, and proceeding to run away.
Oh. Holy shit.
"Rotom?"
"Yes?"
"Call Gloria."
"Calling 'Clown!' Bzzt!"
The phone rings twice, and Gloria picks up with a "What do you want? Makeup? Candy? Something else?"
Posting will be open Oct 1 - Oct 31, 2019 officially, but feel free to keep posting into November.
You don’t have to follow me, but it’d be nice. Also reblog this for exposure? Please and Thanks!
You can use/write any and all MCU characters/ any fandom you like or even original stories!
Smut is cool. However, no underage smut and no incest will be allowed
Au’s, series, one shots, drabbles, moodboards, photomanips, whatever—all are good! Min 100 words; please use the read more feature if you go over 500.
Please use appropriate tags for warnings/triggers
These do not have to be scary, spoopy, or autumnal if you don’t want them to. Please, darlings do whatever you like!
You can do one prompt a day, one to several a week or just do you and idk throw a dart at the board and go from there. The idea is to write more and have fun - plain and simple.
Tag your work with #bipspoopy19 please tag me @blackirisposts somewhere in your piece! Send me a DM if I haven’t liked or reblogged your piece and it’s been 24 hrs since you posted it.
If you’re on AO3 you can add it to the collection: archiveofourown.org/collections/SpoopyOctoberChallenge2019
(I’ll be making a master list on tumblr too)
Pieces for this can be combined for other challenges (as long as those challenge guidelines allow it)
Synopsys: Jeremy’s car breaks down, luckily he meets a friendly and hospitable man in a big old house.
It was cliche, Jeremy knew that very much, but life has a weird way of working out. Jeremy's car broke down in the middle of nowhere and as he made his way along the road looking for a house or gas station the skies just had to open into a torrential downpour. Jeremy had already made if so far from his car that he decided to keep heading forward, all be it at a quicker pace. Eventually, he spotted the driveway to a home, tucked into the woods was a large house with the lights on. Legging it up the driveway Jeremy soon found himself on the porch, soaked to the bone.
"Come on, answer the door." Jeremy shivered as he repeatedly pressed the doorbell.
The door swung open to reveal a taller man looking down at him with confusion and annoyance.
"Can I help you?" The man spoke through the screen door.
"I'm sorry to bother you but my car broke down and I'm stranded, could I come in?" Jeremy rubbed at his arms as a hard wind picked up chilling him.
The man seemed to soften as he processed the situation, nodding he opened the door between the two of them and motioned for Jeremy to enter. Stepping inside Jeremy noticed that the house was well furnished with old, yet expensive, furniture and decore. As he kicked off his shoes by the door the man cleared his throat.
"You can use my shower to warm up if you'd like, it's the second door on the left." The man motioned up the stairs.
"That would be great. You wouldn't happen to have any clothes I could borrow would you?" Jeremy smiled nervously, he felt awkward asking a stranger for clothes while he was already intruding.
"Yeah, I can get something together for you." The man nodded lightly as he motioned for Jeremy to head upstairs.
Doing as instructed Jeremy started up with the man following behind. Reaching the top of the stairs Jeremy turned back around.
"My name's Jeremy by the way." He reached out his hand.
"Ryan."
As Ryan took his hand Jeremy found to his surprise that the man was somehow colder than he was.
"You can head into the bathroom, I'll get those clothes for you."
Jeremy made his way to the bathroom and got the shower started, after a moment of trying to figure out how the damn thing worked of course. While warming up Jeremy heard a knock at the door followed by the sound of it opening.
"I'm gonna leave the clothes on the counter." Ryan's voice called over the sound of the water.
"Alright."
The door closed and Jeremy went back to basking in the heat of the water. Once finished Jeremy stepped out of the shower to not only find new clothes but that his wet ones were gone.
"Ryan must have picked them up." He thought out loud to himself.
Getting dressed Jeremy made his way back downstairs where he could hear Ryan. Reaching the bottom of the stairs Jeremy spotted his host moving around in the kitchen.
"Hey." Jeremy leaned against the doorway as he watched Ryan jump with surprise.
"Woah, hey." Ryan whirled around to face the other man, a nervous smile pulling at his lips.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I wanted to thank you for everything, you've been really nice."
"Oh, it's no trouble and I'm sorry if I seemed a bit unfriendly at first I'm not used to visitors." Ryan leaned back against the kitchen counter, squeezing at the edge tightly.
"It's alright, I understand." Jeremy smiled and nodded.
The two stood in silence for a moment before Ryan knocked against the counter.
"So, I figured you might be hungry." Ryan looked around his kitchen a bit awkwardly "I usually order in so I don't have a bunch of food but I found some stuff I thought you might like. I got soup, stuff for sandwiches, some canned vegetables,-"
"Sandwiches are fine, what kinda meat do you have?" Jeremy smiled and made his way further into the kitchen.
"Turkey and ham, but I can make it for you, just tell me what you want on it."
"You don't have to, you've already been so helpful." Jeremy stepped closer to Ryan and the fridge.
"No, I insist. You're my guest, just relax in the living room and I'll bring your food out to you, please."
Jeremy felt bad about having Ryan make his sandwich for him, but the man insisted. Telling Ryan what he wanted. Waiting in the living room Jeremy heard the man working in the kitchen, eventually, he came in with a sandwich, chips, and a glass of water.
"No food for you?" Jeremy asked as he took the plate and glass from Ryan.
"I ate before you got here," Ryan replied softly, a nervous tone in his voice.
Jeremy nodded before starting on his food. The two men talked as Jeremy ate and continued on into the night, both of them growing closer and more comfortable around each other, finally, Jeremy's eyes started close.
"You look like you could use some sleep, I'll show you to the spare room." Ryan stood up from his chair giving Jeremy a smile.
"I thought you didn't get a lot of visitors." Jeremy joked as he followed Ryan.
"I still like to keep up a level of hospitality for situations like this."
"How often do you get rain-drenched strangers in need of shelter?"
"More than you think Mr. Dooley." Ryan gave Jeremey a grin as he opened the door to the spare room.
"I'm going to bed and forgetting you called me that." Jeremy laughed stepping into the room.
Ryan shook his head and leaned against the doorframe.
"Night Jeremy."
"Night Ryan."
In the morning Jeremy found his clothes outside his door with a note stating that Ryan had gone to work but Jeremy was free to use the shower again if needed, there was cereal on the counter, waffles in the freezer, other various breakfast foods available, and the front door would automatically lock when he left. Jeremy also found that Ryan had left out a phone book for him to use to call someone about his car. It took a bit for Jeremy to get around to leaving but when he did he found another note left on the front door.
I'd love to keep in touch if you want. I could use some company.
On the note was Ryan's number, Jeremy felt pink in the cheeks but happily took the note with him as he headed out for his car.
Months later the two men had grown to be close friends, Jeremy would visit Ryan several times a week and Ryan would meet Jeremy out for a night on the town every so often.
Jeremy was on his way to Ryan's, he hadn't heard from Ryan in a few days and was getting worried. Pulling up to the house Jeremy didn't notice anything odd, but he still had an anxious knot forming in his gut. Jeremy knocked on the door but got no reply, he then rang the doorbell hoping that Ryan would hear that better, still no reply. Thinking Ryan might not be home he turned to leave when he just faintly heard a noise from inside, turning back to the door Jeremy swore he saw Ryan duck down from looking out the door's window.
"Ryan?" Jeremy called loudly.
Jeremy wasn't one to enter someone's house uninvited but he was really scared and Ryan had shown him where he kept his spare key. Retrieving it he let himself in.
"Ryan is everything okay?" Jeremy called as he closed the door.
Ryan wasn't anywhere to be seen, checking the first floor Jeremy found nothing. Making his way upstairs Jeremy headed for the main bedroom, Jeremy hesitated as he reached the door, Ryan had never invited him into his room before and Jeremy felt like he was disrespecting his privacy. As Jeremy stood there contemplating his inner conflict he heard movement inside, Ryan was definitely in there. Jeremy let out a sigh.
"Ryan, I'm coming in."
Entering the room Jeremy was a little surprised to find it was completely normal. Bed, posters, knick-knacks, nothing weird or disturbing. Jeremy really wasn't sure what he was expecting, though with Ryans secrecy he internally prepared himself for something. Scanning the room Jeremy didn't see Ryan, suddenly the door slammed behind him and he was pushed back against it. Ryan held him against the door eyes wild, teeth barred, and his incisors seemingly sharper than they should've been. Ryan looked down at Jeremy's neck and grinned a sick grin, opening his mouth he began to lean in.
"Ryan!?" Jeremy yelped.
Ryan pulled back staring at Jeremy, his eyes were still wide but they held a different feeling to them, shock and fear. Shaking his head Ryan let go of Jeremy and stepped back.
"You need to leave before I lose it again." Ryan pulled at his hair, looking down at the floor he shook.
Jeremy slowly took a step forward reaching a hand out for Ryan.
"It's okay, whatever's going on I want to help you."
Ryan looked up at Jeremy but quickly doubled over holding his stomach.
"No, I don't want to hurt you. Jeremy, I can't, not you." Ryan held tighter to his stomach and dropped to his knees wincing.
"Ryan I am not leaving you like this." Getting down on his knees too Jeremy placed his hands on Ryan's shoulders.
Tears escaped Ryan's eyes as he looked up at Jeremy again. Shaking his head softly he sobbed.
"You won't want to be around me if you knew the truth."
"I'll be the judge of that," Jeremy spoke sternly. "Now what is this? What's happening?"
Ryan took in a deep breath and nodded.
"I, I'm a vampire. I haven't had any blood in days and I'm starving." Ryan stiffened up waiting for Jeremy's response.
Jeremy blinked as he took in the new information, slowly he nodded his head, more for himself than Ryan.
"Okay, okay, you need to eat." Jeremy gave Ryan's shoulders a squeeze. "Do you, want my blood?" The question was soft and bit uncertain, but Ryan knew it wasn't because Jeremy was hesitant to give up his blood.
"I said I didn't want to hurt you." Ryan's voice broke as he blinked away more tears.
"Ryan, you're not going to hurt me. I trust you." Jeremy moved his hands from Ryan's shoulders to cup his face, one of his thumbs wiping away Ryan's tears.
"But-"
"Will it turn me?" Jeremy asked as if he already knew the answer.
"No," Ryan spoke softly, the feeling of Jeremy's hands calming him.
"Then I want you to drink my blood." As the words left his mouth Jeremy chuckled a bit, the edges of his mouth turning up in a smile.
"What if I take too much? I might lose control." Ryan's anxiety picked up again.
"Ryan, you might be a vampire but I'm pretty sure you still have the maximum stomach capacity as a regular person. There's no way you could drink enough to seriously harm me." Jeremy shook his head as he spoke.
"Are you sure about this? You don't have to." Despite Jeremy's words assuring him he'd be fine, Ryan was still concerned Jeremy might not have fully thought the idea out.
"I'm sure, I want this, I want to help you." Although his tears had subsided Jeremy continued to rub at Ryan's face.
Ryan nodded, pulling Jeremy in closer. His breath ghosted over Jeremy's neck right before he sank his fangs into Jeremy. Jeremy gasped at the initial shock but quickly calmed himself, holding onto Ryans arms he leaned into Ryan's mouth. As Ryan finished he pressed a kiss to the bite marks on Jeremy's neck. One of Jeremy's hands shot from Ryan's arm to the hair at the back of his head.
"Ryan." The words seemed almost strained, Ryan was suddenly worried he'd messed up.
"Jeremy, are you okay?" Ryan's own hand's shot to Jeremy's face making the man look at him.
"I'm fine," Jeremy's other and came up to reach Ryan's. "I just." Jeremy stopped, his lips pulling into a smile as his eyes connected with Ryan's.
"What?" Ryan's voice was laced with concern.
Using his hand on the back of Ryan's head Jeremy pulled the man in so their lips met. Ryan was surprised but quickly melted into the kiss. Pulling away Jeremy kept his lips close to Ryan's but far enough that he could comfortably look into his eyes.
"I love you." The words came out as a soft whisper ghosting across Ryan's lips.
"I love you too." Ryan's words came out the same.
The two grinned before joining together again in a tender kiss.
A/N: This is what happens when I take a one-word prompt and write what comes to mind lol
Rating: T
Warning: Reader is a ghost. Reader’s fiance was bad.
Word count: 1,508, apparently!!
Prompt: Ghost from day six of @blackirisposts October Challenge
Summary: You’ve seen many people move in and out of your house. Poe is the one who sees you too.
GIF credit: poesddameron
-------------------------------
Eight different families had lived in your home since you died.
Your fiance lived there with a new wife and eventually a set of little twins that prompted the small family to move somewhere larger in the autumn of 1899.
A handsome couple soon moved in and welcomed a curly-headed girl two years later, and they stayed until that girl became a rebellious young woman early into the 1920's.
An older man and woman moved in to downsize after their last child became married, grandchildren visiting and growing through the years until their grandparents died; the man in 1953 and the woman in 1954.
Their youngest child moved in with her husband and two teenage children and left a couple years after they moved out, in 1962.
Newlyweds came and promptly had one child every year, filling the house to the brim until they realized they needed more space in 1968.
You were alone for two years until a group of young girlfriends decided to share the house while seeking their higher education, then went their separate ways for careers or marriage upon graduating in 1974.
Another four years alone, another pair of newlyweds who had a little boy in 1982 and a little girl in 1990; they were with you longer than anyone, but they left you like everyone else in the year of 2015.
Every family was easy to get attached to and you were sad to see them go, but you were always excited to discover who you would be with next.
You found yourself attached immediately to the man who started filling the house with boxes in 2019.
His name was Poe Dameron according to some documents you'd seen and he was your eighth family. He was very handsome and he had a laugh that you enjoyed almost as much as the laughter of the many children who had lived there over the years.
He was also kind, sure to hand out candy to neighborhood children on Halloween even though most of his boxes had yet to be unpacked.
You were watching him compliment a boy's superhero costume and generously give him a handful of candy, smiling dreamily as he shut the door and turned around.
He stared at you. "Can I ask what the hell you're doing in my house?"
You paused, slowly glancing over your shoulder and then back at him.
There was no one else for him to be talking to, but there was also no way that he knew you were there.
No one had ever known you were there. No one could see you and even when you would expend your energy to knock over a dish, they would explain it away with a tilted shelf or a breeze through a window.
"Your costume is cool, but I'm gonna have to ask you not to come into my house unannounced." The costume he was referring to was the dress that had been more appropriate for your time than his.
"You can see me?" Your tone was full of wonder and hope.
"Of course I can see you. Why don't you head out of here and we can forget all about it?"
"Oh, no, I can't. You see, I'm dead."
He had his hand on the door after opening it again, staring at you for a moment and then laughing slightly. "That's funny. I really don't want to hurt you or have to call the cops, please get out now."
You tilted your head. "But I am dead. This is my home."
"I'm sorry about this." He strode to you and moved to take hold of your arm, eyes widening as he stumbled forward and his hand went right through you.
"About what?"
Perhaps he was apologizing for the way he suddenly began trying to poke you, batting his hand through your chest experimentally. But you couldn't really feel it and he was clearly trying to prove that he hadn't imagined your incorporeal form, therefore you were more curious than offended.
He quickly stepped back, muttering to himself about something being impossible and how 'this isn't the kind of crazy you are when you have a big ego'. He covered his face with his hands for a long moment, then slowly looked at you again.
"I'm not saying I'm a hard ass who refuses to believe in ghosts and all that, but I always figured they would be invisible or something. You know, the kind of thing that makes stuff fall off of tables and that's it."
"No one has ever been able to see me...I've tried to communicate by dropping things, but it takes a lot of my energy and people consider all the other reasons why things suddenly fall."
"Okay. Cool. This is probably some weird dream or I've gone crazy for some reason."
"I promise that I am very real. I haven't talked to anyone in...over a hundred years."
There must have been something to the lilt of your voice, sounding like you could start crying and like you could shout in pure joy, that had him looking at you sympathetically. "You have a name?"
Being a spirit should have meant that you had no emotion, but you had cried many times since you died and you were tearing up right then. "Y/N Y/L/N. I've been all by myself since 1894."
"Hot damn. I can't go more than a day without talking to somebody."
"I know. You've called someone on your cell phone every day since you moved in."
"You died in 1894 and you know what a cell phone is?"
"I have been here for one hundred and twenty-five years already and the only thing I can do is watch. I have seen the introduction of the radio, the television, home phones, and computers. I have watched them all fade away and be replaced with better versions, such as flat screen TVs and computer-like phones that can fit in your pocket. I have watched television shows since the 50's and listened to the most popular music, from jazz to pop."
"You've pretty much seen everything then." If this was all in his head, he was surprised at how detailed it was.
"All I had for my entertainment were the moments those who lived here would watch television or leave a book open, and then I would read the pages over and over again until I grew bored of them. I spent every hour of every day pacing and counting cracks in the walls until you moved in."
"That sounds like hell."
"It is. I enjoy having people around here even though I couldn't talk to them...I loved watching all their children. Such innocence. Such potential."
Your eyes were sad and Poe was too, certain that there was no way even his subconscious could make up something like this.
He sat on a large box that he knew was full of stuff that could hold his weight. "Do you mind if I ask how you...how did you die?"
You looked down and he followed your line of vision to see a wound right above your chest that he might have thought had been delivered to you minutes ago if he hadn't known better.
His eyes met yours.
"My fiance was always an unkind man...I suppose I angered him too much."
"You didn't." He looked at you with meaning; it had been a long time since anyone looked at you on purpose, and you weren't sure you'd been eyed that kindly even when you were alive.
There was a knock on the door and he jumped to his feet to hand out candy to little children that seemed to be dressed up as characters from a show you didn't recognize.
He stayed up half the night to ask you questions and answer some that you had as well, him enraptured by all the things you had learned in over a hundred years and you by all he had learned in a mere thirty-four years of life.
Poe slept for a couple hours and woke early to get ready for work, momentarily surprised when you came into the bathroom while he was shaving.
You really weren't something he dreamed; you watched him very closely and then moved your hand under the stream of water in the sink.
It almost made him sad to see it go through your hand.
How many times had he taken the basic ability to touch almost whatever he wanted for granted?
You gave him privacy when he had to put on his clothes, staring out a window and walking into the living room as you heard the door shut and his key turn the lock. Yet you could still hear voices.
Looking around, you discovered that he left the television on the home and garden channel. You then noticed that there were a bunch of books on the floor, near the now half-empty box he'd been sitting on last night.
Every single one of them was open to the first page.
Prompt: Candies from day two of @blackirisposts October Challenge
Summary: Not many trick or treaters come to the door, but you and Poe find a use for all that candy.
-----------------------------------
"Do kids think our house is haunted?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Four kids have come to the door and it's already eight."
"I mean, there is a lot of screaming late at night here— hey, ow!"
Poe dramatically rubbed the back of his neck where you'd lightly pinched him as you walked by the couch.
There wasn't really any reason for anyone to think your house was haunted; it was a little two bedroom rancher built in the mid-fifties, which was hardly as creepy as an old, dilapidated Victorian.
You picked up the bowl with a jack-o-lantern face on it from its place near the front door, setting it down on the coffee table. "What are we supposed to do with all this candy?"
Your husband leaned forward and grabbed a fun size candy bar, tearing it open and stuffing the whole thing in his mouth.
"I can think of what to do with all this candy," he spoke around chocolate and wafers.
"You have to swallow." You glared half-heartedly at the wiggle of his eyebrows at the double entendre.
Looking at the bowl, you grabbed a lollipop and unwrapped it.
Poe's eyes stayed on you as you casually sucked on the candy.
"Are you teasing me?"
"You inspired me to enjoy a lollipop."
"Was it the swallowing?"
"It's the fact that you're a Dum Dum."
He grinned, grabbing another candy bar and kneading it in his hand for a little while.
You raised an eyebrow.
The candy was melted when he peeled the wrapper open, and he gestured for you to come closer. "Come here."
Not only did you trust Poe more than anyone else on the earth, but you were also pretty sure that he had something pleasing planned. You moved to sit beside him, staying still as he began carefully running the melted chocolate over your lips.
"I don't usually wear this shade," you whispered.
"But it looks good on you, baby." He set aside the candy bar and reached up to cup your face, leaning forward to lick the chocolate off your lips in what was probably the raunchiest display you'd ever experienced.
You moaned at the feeling of his tongue running over your lips, dipping in when you parted them.
You lifted your lollipop and ran it down his neck; it left a light sticky trail and you broke the kiss to eagerly lick it up.
He loved having any sort of attention on his neck and he was moaning softly, but he pushed you back on the couch and looked at you in a way that could have you doing whatever he wanted.
He helped you unbutton your shirt as quickly as possible. His shirt was taken off next and then your bra, and he took the lollipop from you. You shuddered when he ran it over one of your nipples and cried out when he sucked on your breast. Your fingers wasted no time in weaving through his hair and tugging hard.
His lips continued their journey down your stomach and to your abdomen, where he looked up at you mischievously and popped open the button of your jeans.
The two of you worked together to get them and your underwear off, letting them fall to the floor with the suddenly forgotten lollipop.
He caressed your thigh to keep your legs spread for him, slowly running his tongue up your slit. He didn't tease you, immediately licking and sucking at your clit while you cried out and bucked beneath him.
You pulled harder on his hair and his moan against you had delightful vibrations that nearly made you black out.
"Fuck, Poe! Need you..."
"Yes, ma'am." He moved to his feet and hurriedly pushed his jeans down, already incredibly hard beneath his boxer briefs.
Those were shed too and he moved on top of you again. You gently stroked his cock as you guided it to your entrance, staring into his eyes.
He pushed into you. He stilled inside you when he had filled you up as much as he could, you whining and him moaning lowly.
Apparently neither of you had any patience.
You wrapped a leg around him and pressed on his back in a sign for him to move, and he was happy to begin an eager pace against you.
Any noises in the room were vulgar and sexy and wonderful and you couldn't even remember what you'd been doing up until the point that Poe was inside you.
He was hitting the perfect angles as he'd always been good at, thrusting with your pleasure on his mind.
It wasn't long until the room had to be spinning and everything between your legs felt fuzzy, and you were squeezing his cock with a loud cry of his name.
Poe was good at lasting a while, unless you came around him and then he was barely seconds behind, spilling inside of you and moaning your name into your neck or your hair.
You held him close, longing to have him closer even though you were as close as two people could possibly be.
His lips pressed to your neck again and again, murmuring how beautiful and incredible you were.
"They probably do think the house is haunted," you said after the high of sex faded enough for you to be in your right mind.
