#i did do the haunted trail and a pumpkin patch which are my two big ones but didnt get any pictures

[lavender---sunshine]

Had a big day but I'm desperately needing more small days

[honeyparker]

happy halloween — p.p.

summary: for as long as you’ve known peter parker, he’s loved halloween

a/n: IM RUNNING OUT OF GIFS!!! also this is a request uwu thank you

masterlist

For as long as you’ve known Peter Parker, he’s loved Halloween.

Not just the day of, no, but the whole season—the pumpkin patches, the movies, and activities, and yes—the day of. But you’ve never really been with Peter on the day of, only having meet him in January of this year and only having started dating in June. You’ve never experienced a true Parker Halloween Season.

Ned swears it’s the best thing in the world—that Halloween with Peter is always his favorite thing, always what he’s looking forward to. May says the same, although you assume she may have a small bit of bias, being his legal guardian and all. You don’t mind.

“Peter, I’m not really a fan of haunted houses...” you trail off, glancing at the big tent, stretched out for half a mile in front of you.

He grabs your hand. “Me neither.”

“What?”

“Well, I like them. A lot. But I’m scared of them, ya know?” explains Peter, grabbing your hand and standing in line.

It’s quite eerie. There’s a man with a chain saw standing out front, bloody face dripping onto torn, black shoes. He’s backed by the screams inside the haunted house, those of both the actors and current victims. You’re not quite sure you want to go in, but soon you’re at the front of the line, Peter handing the creepy-chainsaw-man your tickets, and walking in the entrance.

You grip Peter’s upper arm as hard as you can, not noticing the smile that lights up his face in the dark. You don’t notice the look of adoration he sees you with, and you don’t see the pink color lapping itself over his cheeks.

“It’s alright, babe,” Peter whispers, gently pulling you closer. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you.”

“Uh huh,” you mutter, completely unconvinced. “Uh huh.” And he laughs.

“Seriously, I really don’t think this is that bad. It’s not like— AH!” He’s interrupted by a demon-like figure, who puts his untamed claws on Peter’s shoulder.

“Not that bad?” you tease, turning a corner of the house that leads to what seems to be a butchery—a human one, at that.

You shut your eyes tight. “Nope. Not happening. Abso-freaking-lutely not. Nuh uh. In your dreams, Parker.”

The two of you keep walking for a moment, somewhat horrified and somewhat excited. It’s always been hard to tell with Peter.

“You can open your eyes, sweetheart,” Peter reassures, prying your hands from your eyes. “We’re our of the butchery. Into a winter wonderland—of horror.”

Opening your eyes slowly, you notice that your boyfriend has lied, and you are, in fact, still in the human butchery. “Peter, you ass!” You slap his arm, before yanking it back towards you and grabbing it rather tightly once again. “I’m traumatized. I’m sending you my therapy bill. That—that’s happen— holy freaking shit I’m going to slap the next person, demon, whatever that scares me!”

“Sorry, she’s— she’s never done this before,” he mutters to the girl dressed as a bloody ragdoll. “It’s her first time.”

You’re more angry than scared. Angry with yourself for agreeing to go to this stupid horror fest with Peter, angry with yourself for not being braver, for being scared. Angry with yourself for it all.

And terrified. You know these people are only actors, only doing this for fun or a quick buck—maybe both. You know they’d never hurt you, or Peter, or anyone else in the haunted house. It’s all just for fun. But for some reason, it haunts you and it hurts you and you just want to leave.

The two of you go through the next, and last, couple of rooms; your eyes are still shut and your arm grips Peter’s.

“That was...” your words die on your tongue as your eyes meet the sun. “Icky?”

“I’m sorry,” he opens the car door, getting in on the other side. “I feel bad.”

“No, no, no, don’t,” you put your hand on his. “You liked it. So I did.”

“You hates it,” deadpans Peter.

You nod. “Yes I did.”

The two of you end up at a little ice-cream shop, adorned with fake webs and little chocolate coffins for the holiday. It seems they’ve changed all their flavors to Halloween names—Jack-O-Lantern Jelly, Scary Cinnamon Spice: the works. The two of you sit at a small table, hands a little tangled in the fake spider-webs but enjoying it nonetheless.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have fun,” he apologizes as you swirl your spoon in the cup of ice-cream.

You shrug. “I was with you. Which means everything to me. I’d do it again if that means I got to do it with you.”

“Really?”

“If I really, truly, had to. Because I love you.”

“Good, because—because I love you, too.”

“Glad to here it.” The two of you go back to your ice-cream.

It’s a peaceful walk home, deciding to walk and go pick up Peter’s car later, wanting to enjoy the crisp breeze. The two of you hold hands, swinging them back and forth between you and watching the streets.

It’s the time of year when no building looks normal. Cotton spider-webs are slung across doors—to which you give Peter a knowing nod and wink—and fake witches are hung from roofs. Plastic spiders are found in the bushes, and witches hats in the windows of stores. There’s a Spirit Halloween that’s opened, as well as a wig shop and other season stores, soon to be replaced by Christmas trinkets and trees. It brings a smile to your face just thinking about it.

“I had a really fun time today,” you say, before adding, “Except the human butchery. Never—“ you point an accusing finger. “Ever take me to another human butchery. Or else that will be the last place you go.”

Peter laughs, brown eyes twinkling in your favorite way—little eye crinkles, dimples. “Deal.”

It’s silent for a moment, until he begins to speak again. “Was that really so scary?”

“You were scared, too!”

“Pft,” he looks around. “I’m Spider-Man. I’m not scared,” whispers Peter.

“Uh huh. Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Happy Halloween, Peter,” you squeeze his hand.

“Happy Halloween, scaredy—ouch!”

[scientistsalarian]

Another Halloween prompt fill. This one is for @vorchagirl​. I wrote some fluffy Shega for you! AO3 Link

Shepard stood in the middle of the pumpkin patch trying to look as interested as she possibly could in trying to find the most perfectly round specimen. She knelt down next to a particularly large one and made sounds as though she was inspecting it as thoroughly as humanly possible. She tried not to wince as she heard a particularly piercing scream emanating from within the haunted house that was only a few yards away.

Despite her attempts to look preoccupied with the extremely important task of trying to find the most perfect pumpkin, Vega noticed her flinch when a second scream rang out. “So Lola, I don’t have to worry about you screaming like that do I?” He had a wicked smirk creeping across his face and his eyes were glimmering as he realized that he had found the great Commander Shepard’s weakness.

“Hah! No! You don’t have to worry about me. Haha!” Her laughter was forced and she could tell from Vega’s expression that he could tell just how fake it was. “I mean come on, I took down Reapers, and Husks, and Collectors, and--”

“And you’ve come up with excuses the entire day not to go in there. First you said it was cold and that some hot apple cider would hit the spot. Then you had to eat an apple cinnamon doughnut because you ‘can’t have cider without a doughnut’. Then you said that you wanted to go apple picking and I thought maybe you just really liked apples. But now you’ve been sitting here looking at the same pumpkin for the past ten minutes and I’m beginning to believe that you’re stalling.” His sarcasm elicited a defeated frown from Shepard which only made Vega grin even more. “Don’t worry Lola, I’ll protect you if you’re scared.”

Shepard’s frown turned into a defiant scowl. “Oh, well if that’s how it’s going to be. Let’s go, Vega.” Immediately regretting her words she stomped off to the entrance to the haunted house.

Vega followed after her and he rolled his eyes. He had truly never met a woman more stubborn than Shepard. He saw her disappear into the old converted barn and he picked up his pace to meet her inside. Before he reached the doors however, he saw a red-haired woman high-tailing it out of there as fast as possible.

“Oh hell no!” She shouted as she bolted past Vega, not even noticing him standing there. “Nope! I did not survive killing Reapers just to have to deal with a bunch of assholes in costumes trying to scare the shit out of me,” she mumbled under her breath.

Vega ran to catch up to her. It took all his personal strength not to burst out laughing. “You ok?” It was the only words he could manage to utter without losing his cool. “I thought you said you weren’t scared.”

“I said I wasn’t going to scream. I never said I wasn’t go to run as far away as possible and hide under a tree.” As she said it she realized she was only making the situation even more embarrassing for herself.

Vega wrapped his arm around her and sat down next to her under the tree. Shepard rested her head against his shoulder enjoying the way the warmth of his neck felt against her forehead as she nuzzled him gently.

“Here’s the deal. When I was a kid I went into a really scary haunted house as a kid and no matter how old I am, I just get freaked out. It’s weird, nothing else really gets to me but that stupid fear is just ingrained in me. We’re lucky the Reapers didn’t cover themselves in fake blood and come after me with a chainsaw or this galaxy would be toast.” She hated admitting it to him but she hoped he would understand.

Vega kissed the top of her head and smiled warmly at her. “No I get it, Lola. Stuff in your childhood messes with you. At least your’s is something that’s meant to be scary. When I was in preschool, some kid got so excited about it being time to color that he threw a box of crayons and one hit me right in the eye.”

“Wait, you mean to tell me that you’re still afraid of crayons? Even to this day?” Shepard stared at him in disbelief.

“No, I’m afraid of children around ages four or five that are armed with crayons. There’s a difference.” Now it was Vega’s turn to wear a sheepish grin.

Shepard bit her lip as hard as she could to keep from giggling. A small sound escaped her despite her best efforts and she devolved into a fit of laughter. Vega turned to face her and folded his arms. “Hey! I thought we were having a moment!”

Shepard attempted to calm herself down but seeing Vega flustered just made it that much more difficult. He reached out and grabbed her by the collar of her sweatshirt and the two began to wrestle on the ground. Vega swiftly had her pinned to the soft ground and he laid on top of her with a devilish look in his eye.

“You’re the worst.” He muttered before capturing her lips in a teasing kiss. Shepard kissed him back and gently nipped at his bottom lip. “Dammit Lola, you know what that does to me.”

“I certainly do.” There was a gleam in her eyes that excited him and he kissed her once again. This time deeper than before. It was all he could do not to tear her clothes off right there. He trailed kisses down her neck and bit the soft flesh above her collarbone.

A small moan escaped Shepard’s lips and she wrapped her legs around Vega’s waist. “I wish you could just have your way with me right here,” she whispered in a deep husky tone.

Vega’s hands trailed up her body and dipped underneath her sweatshirt. Shepard sighed and Vega looked at her triumphantly. He sat up next to her with a evil look on his face. “Weren’t you extremely preoccupied earlier with finding the perfect pumpkin? I’d hate to distract you from that.”

“Damn you, Vega,” Shepard hissed under her breath.

“Consider that your punishment for laughing at my damn crayon story.” He was smiling a big bold grin as he helped her up. Before Shepard could protest, he took her by the waist and kissed her one more time. “And consider that a promise that I’ll make it up to you later.”

“You’d better,” Shepard answered as she led him back to the pumpkin patch. “Now let’s pick a pumpkin and get the hell out of here.”