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Tricky Treats master list

October 01: Minhyuk + fog | 👻

October 02: incubus!Changkyun + first meeting | 🎃🌕

October 03: Kihyun + lightning | 🕸️👻  

October 04: Wonho + 31st night | 🕸️

October 05: werewolf!Shownu + witch!reader | 🎃

October 06: Jooheon + nightmare | 🍬👻  

October 07: Hyungwon + headless horseman | 

October 08: Changkyun x vampire!reader + meet | 🎃

October 09: Kihyun + something wicked | 🌕

October 10: Minhyuk + midnight moonlight | 🍬🌕

October 11: demon!Wonho + carved | 🕸️

October 12: vampire!Changkyun + your night routine w/ him | 🎃🍬🌕

October 13: Jooheon + bones | 👻

October 14: werewolf!Shownu + cursed |

October 15: devil!Kihyun + return below | 🌕

October 16: Hyungwon + pumpkin carving | 🎃🍬 

October 17: witch!Minhyuk + flying lessons | 🍬

October 18: Wonho + tied up | 🕸️💀 

October 19: vampire!Hyungwon + bound | 

October 20/21/22/23: werewolf!Shownu + 1st time he finds out he’s a werewolf | 🎃💀 

October 24/25/26/27: witch!reader + accidentally summons demon!Wonho instead of an animal familiar | 🎃

October 28/29/30/31:

With nervous anticipation and shaking hands, you begin to mutter the fading words written in an almost-forgotten script. Please, please let this work, you beg in your heart.

It is your first time ever summoning a familiar. It is not something commonly done anymore, so you must rely on dusty books and dated accounts from at least a century ago. You do not mind the difficulty in finding the correct method—you have been a little lost in your craft for some time now, and summoning a familiar is the only way you can think of to move forward. Your fellow witches have not been much help—unfortunately, the modern age has weakened once well-known and practiced knowledge.

The words are a little strange to say, your tongue struggling to wrap around the vowels. But, you make it through, letting out a small breath of relief as a tiny plume of smoke begins to rise from the neatly drawn summoning circle.

Your excitement grows as what creature you’ve summoned; an owl? Cat? Bunny? Slowly that excitement turns to dread as the smoke begins to thicken and turn pitch black. Maybe it is a very powerful bunny? You do not think so. You shrink back until you bump into the wall behind you, praying to the gods you have not just summoned some vicious animal. 

A pair of glowing golden eyes appear through the smoke, zeroing in right on you. This is definitely not the cute, fluffy animal you were hoping for. The eyes approach and you can hear the confident clack of heavy boots on the wooden floor. A bunny does not wear boots—what in the hells did you summon into your room?

There is sudden warmth and pressure against your front, a sultry voice speaking next to the shell of your ear.

“You called, my dear?”

The smoke begins to clear and from the strengthening light of candles you can make out who stands before you. A handsome man with jet-black hair pushed back; a leather jacket drapes over his broad shoulders, barely concealing the lace bodysuit he wears underneath; Tight, black jeans hug his narrow hips. In the low light you can just barely make out two tiny horns protruding from his head. A demon?

“Y-you’re not an animal familiar,” is all you can choke out. Damn, you cannot let yourself be distracted by such stunning features.

He smirks, practically cooing his next words, “No, but I can be whatever you need me to.”  

“How did I summon you? I’m sure I used one for a familiar, not a demon.”

His smirk only widens as he pulls back. “Demons can sometimes become familiars. Although, it is rare.” He looks you up and down, practically devouring you with his gaze. “You must be very special to have summoned me.”

“I only needed a familiar to help support me a little in my craft. I...I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with a demon.” 

“You can do whatever you like with me, darling.” He still stands directly in front of you, his hips gently touching yours. You know he is not joking with his words and that only serves to make your cheeks flush with intense heat.   

He brushes a thumb across your lips, but waits for your consent to move further. 

“I...uh…” all sound reasoning has vacated your mind. Damn. Who knew demons could be this alluring?

“Would you like some space?” his eyes become gentle and he takes a step back.

Finally, you feel as if you can breathe. You carefully look him over; he certainly is one of the most handsome beings you have ever laid eyes on, but there is an underlying softness to him that you almost miss.

A familiar is a familiar, regardless of the form it takes, right? Why should it matter that you mistakenly summoned a demon instead of an animal? As long as he can help you achieve your goals, it should not matter. There will be challenges, yes, but the outcome is what is important. 

“May I ask your name?”

The demon quirks an eyebrow. “Hoseok.”

“Hoseok, would you like to make a contract?” you ask.

His eyebrows rise in surprise, “You’re so sure already?” 

“Yes, you were given to me for a reason. I don’t know why, yet, but we are obviously meant to be of some service to each other. I’m willing to discover it, if you are.” You have no idea how to explain this to others, let alone how they may react to a demon trailing along at your side. Squaring your shoulders, you step around the demon watching you with curiosity and stand in the center of the summoning circle.

Hoseok studies you for a moment longer before a delighted smile alights on his lips and he quickly joins you.

“Have you ever made a contract before?” he asks.

“No, have you?”

A veil of sudden sadness covers his face, his gaze dropping to his hands and his voice lowering to a longing whisper. “Once.” He shakes his head, ridding himself of the shroud and looks up to you, “That was a long time ago.” He reaches forward to gently cup your hands in his. “I’ll walk you through it.” 

With great patience and care, he guides you through the process. In the end, you remain holding his hands, looking over your new familiar. His outfit leaves little to the imagination as to what lies underneath and you are having trouble avoiding staring through the lace when you notice quite a large scar nearly dividing his chest. It sends a frightening chill racing down your spine.

“How did you get that scar?” you ask quietly.

Hoseok covers the scar with a hand, not to hide it necessarily, but to hold back the pain threatening to burst through. A weak attempt at a nonchalant smile pulls at a corner of his mouth.  

“A product of my first contract.”

Snarling growls, gnashing maws, piercing skin, and the frightening crimson flow of blood. It is a whirlwind around Hyunwoo—he has neither time nor fading wit to make sense of what happens. Everything is painted garishly in drapes of red; a smear against the bark of a tree as he attempts to hold himself up; a fresh coat on withering flowers, dipping them in a vibrant faux life; a pool that spreads out from underneath him when he collapses, submerging fallen leaves like too-small boats caught in a wave. 

Then, the world turns black, coloring leaching from everything just like his life seeping out and into the darkening soil.

————

“You fool,” she says, staring at the nearly-lifeless man lying at her feet. “But,” she nudges him with the toe of her boot, “It seems your spirit still wishes to live. Very well.” She pulls a slender wand from her robe and with a quick flick staunches his wounds, although she knows there likely is not much blood left to keep in. “Patchwork for now, but we should be able to make it back without you skipping off to the other side.”

———— 

The first thought that breaches the surface of Hyunwoo’s mind is that something smells good. The fact that he is hungry is the second thought. Slowly, his eyes peel open. He registers the softness of the bed under his back, the warmth of a fire, and a persistent ache throughout his body. His stomach itches, but as he reaches to scratch, a sharp voice stops him.

“Don’t scratch! You’ll reopen the wound.” Footsteps approach from the side and a huff of irritation escapes his savior. “It was a pain in the ass to treat. Damn wolves.” Warm hands smooth over the bandages crossing his abdomen before pulling the blanket back over him.

Hyunwoo tilts his head, bringing her into view. There is a focused pout to her mouth as she looks him over. He holds still—not as if he could move much if he wanted—and patiently waits for her to finish. 

“Good, everything is holding up nicely.” She nods in content.

“What happened?” His voice is hoarse and can barely be heard, but she looks to him and answers, a mixture of anger and sympathy lighting her eyes. 

“Wolves. Werewolves to be more exact.”

Hyunwoo mulls over the thought in silence, flashes of the scene coming back to him in spurts. 

“So, does that mean…” he trails off, unsure of if the possibility is real or not.

“You’re a werewolf now, yes.” Her answer is blunt, but not unkind in its delivery. He prefers the truth this way. “Well, not a complete one, yet. There are still a couple of weeks until the next full moon.” 

Hyunwoo can only offer a grunt of acceptance. 

“Can you help me walk?” he asks, beginning to prop himself up.

“Huh? Why?” Hands flutter to his shoulders, gently trying to push him back down. “You shouldn’t move too much yet.”

“Bathroom,” he mumbles.

“Oh.” Her hands move to his elbow, supporting him with steady strength as he gingerly tries to stand up. She stays next to him as they cross the short distance to the bathroom, but looks at him questioningly when he suddenly stops.

Hyunwoo feels something strange. He twists himself carefully to look behind him. A bushy chocolate tail flicks through the air.

She speaks up from beside him, “That can, uh, sometimes happen until your first full transformation.”    

“Okay.” Hyunwoo begins walking again.

“You’re taking this surprising well,” she comments.

Hyunwoo shrugs, pushing open the door to the bathroom. “I can’t change the hand the fates have given me.”

She watches the door close in her face and smiles, turning away to prepare a bowl of stew for him.

“You’ll do just fine, wolf.”

“You are far too trusting,” Hyungwon mutters, pushing open the door to a restaurant. He lets her slip through, holding his breath as the sudden flux of air sends her scent swirling around him.

“Hm? Why do you say that?” She asks, turning slightly while still following behind the hostess to their table.

“We’ve met all of two times, but you’ve already asked me to join you for lunch.” Hyungwon pulls out her chair—old habits and such. She lets out a sweet laugh while he moves to his own seat across from her. It spreads warmth over his cold bones and makes him shiver at the unaccustomed sensation. He doesn’t dislike it, he decides, but it is almost foreign to him—can vampires even feel such things?

“How else are we supposed to get to know each other?”

“You want to get to know me?” He is truly puzzled now.  

“Of course,” she says, flipping to the next page of the menu.

Human food doesn’t have much taste to him—or hold much sustenance—but he feels full at this moment. The way she laughs, the small crinkles at the corners of her eyes, the way those eyes and her words carry such unfathomable amounts of warmth and kindness—all directed at him—fills him to bursting. 

He knows he’s screwed; he can see his carefully built walls crumbling by the second. He isn’t completely against the idea that bounces around in his heart, but he is hesitant to move forward. He knows how badly a love like this can end in his world.

But he cannot shake that steadfast feeling he has had since their first encounter: he does not want to leave her side.

He takes a bite of the tasteless seafood stew, growing comfortable with a new determined notion that he will be eternally bound to her.

Hoseok struggles to stay conscious, but the pain of sharp rocks digging into his knees manages to keep his mind afloat. Once cold shackles are now warm with the blood they cut from his wrists, stretching his arms out away from his sides. His arms ache with an impossible strain, numbing his fingers and sending burning waves of agony through his shoulders and down his back. 

“You committed a grave sin, Hoseok.” The lower half of someone appears in his blurred view. He can’t find the strength to lift his head to see their face; he doesn’t need to, he knows well enough who that voice belongs to. “Killing your own kind is not allowed—you know that.”

Something resembling a scoff bubbles up from his throat. “I’d do it again.”

A blistering pain splits his side as his judge strikes him over an already weeping wound. He grits his teeth against the black edges that creep into his vision.

“You fool,” they spit, “You’re going to die for this.”

Hoseok takes a deep breath, his splintered ribs protesting against the stretch, and shakily raises his head enough to look them in the eyes. With a bloody smirk, he replies, “I’d do it again. For her.”

The last thing he sees is their arm rearing back to deliver another blow before all-encompassing darkness consumes him.

“No, no, your posture is all wrong!” Minhyuk’s hands are suddenly on you, adjusting you into the correct position.

“Sorry, it’s kinda hard to sit with a stick shoved between my crotch.” The hovering broom you straddle wobbles as you shift to find some sense of comfort.

Minhyuk holds you steady with a large hand resting against your lower back, ready to help in case your balance gives out and you tilt too far over the side.

“Witches have done this for centuries. You’ll get used to it.”

“I’m not a witch.”

“No, but you are with a witch. I won’t let anything happen to you. Ready?” Minhyuk swings a leg over the broom and leans forward, his arms coming to trap you safely between as his hands grip the handle in front of you.

The sudden thought that you will soon be high above the city has stolen your voice. “Sure,” you squeak out.

Minhyuk’s chuckle is quiet in your ear. With all the gentleness of an early morning breeze, the pair of you are lifted into the air. Your sudden reaction is to lean back, but you are met with the sturdiness of Minhyuk’s chest.

“I won’t let you fall,” he assures, releasing one hand from the broom to wrap around your waist.

Your ascent is slow, gentle, and by the time you rise above the tallest trees and buildings, the stunning beauty of the scene sprawled before you vanquishes all traces of fear.  

“Minhyuk, it’s…” you are left breathless with awe.

Minhyuk rests his chin on your shoulder, a wide smile lighting his face. “Beautiful.”

The dining room table is a mess of pumpkin innards, various-sized knives, spooky stencils, markers, and the last shred of your sanity.

“Mine looks awful,” you can’t help but laugh at the lopsided grin of your jack-o-lantern.

Hyungwon leans over from his spot next to you and conceals his own laugh with the back of his hand. “You’re right.”

You bop his head with a nearby marker and shove him back to his seat with your elbow. “What’s yours look like, mister master pumpkin carver?”

He proudly turns his pumpkin around. It looks just as wonky as yours. He pats the top of his masterpiece and smiles, “If anything, the bad spirits will be kept away from the horrifying goofiness of these guys.”

“You may have a point.” You pick up a small knife, deciding to make your pumpkin’s eyes a little larger. 

“Careful,” Hyungwon says when you struggle to cut away a piece. His hand covers yours, slipping the knife from your fingers. He carves out the eyes with ease and looks to you for approval. “Good?”

“Great, thank you.” 

Hyungwon brings his face close to yours—close enough you think that he is going to kiss you—but he gently wipes a thumb across your cheek and pulls away.

“You had some pumpkin guts on your face.” The disappointment on your face is evident, as is your pout. Hyungwon simply laughs and swoops back to you, placing a swift kiss on your cheek. “Shall we put some candles in these and set them out?”

“Come with me,” Kihyun coos into your ear. His torso presses against your exposed back and his fingers skim along your sides.

A delectable shiver hums down your spine at his touch—it doesn’t go unnoticed by the devil. 

He nuzzles the nape of your neck, teasing the promise of more, more, more. “I can make you feel like this every day.” His lips inch lower and he plants precise, hot kisses down the length of your back, each one blooming in desire.

If you could feel like this, you would follow him anywhere.

“What’s it like?” you ask, grabbing one of his hands and placing it where you need it most.

“Hell?” Kihyun spreads your legs open with a nudge of his knee and rests the head of his length at your entrance. He smirks against the blade of your shoulder, pushing himself inside as he answers, “It’s paradise, baby.”

“It’s a curse, right?” Hyunwoo holds out his arm, pushing up the sleeve to better show the strange markings that spiderweb across his skin.

You bend over, inspecting the lines and color. “Hm,” you grasp his wrist to turn his forearm over, “A very low-grade one, if it is. Were you playing by the marsh in the forest?”

“The marsh?” Hyunwoo looks up to the ceiling trying to recall where he has been. “Oh, yes, two days ago. I was following some tracks.”

“Just as I thought.” You turn away from him to pick up a jar. Opening it, you scoop some out with your fingers and smear it over Hyunwoo’s arm. “This should help.” The lines have already begun to fade slightly, but you notice that they go farther up his arm than you originally thought. “Do the marks appear anywhere else on your body?”

Hyunwoo stiffens at your question before rubbing a hand at the back of his head. “Yeah,” he answers quietly, avoiding eye contact.

You thrust the jar towards him. “Go into the other room and rub this in wherever the marks show up. If there’s anywhere you can’t reach…” you trail off as heat rushes to your cheeks. “Um, we’ll call Minhyuk over to help.”

Hyunwoo clears his throat and stands, suddenly interested in the drying herbs hanging from the low rafters. “Okay, thanks.” He shuffles quickly into the other room and you must occupy your hands and thoughts, so you pick up some potion bottles, deciding now would be a fine time to completely reorganize your shelves.

Hyunwoo returns shortly, buttoning up his shirt. He places the empty jar down and gives you an impish grin.

“Thanks again. All the marks are fading now.”

“Good.”

“Should I be worried about getting more curses from the marsh?” The way the genuine concern widens his eyes and tilts his eyebrows is almost too cute for such a man.

You snort lightly and shake your head. “You’ve got bigger curses to worry about, wolf boy.”