✓ ❘ 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ─ 𝐌𝐂𝐑. 𝐏!𝐀𝐓𝐃. 𝐅𝐎𝐁. 𝐓Ø𝐏.

*Halloween* Light 'Em Up. (Pete Wentz x Reader)

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Request: a user on Tumblr: '12 with Pete'

Prompt 12: Haunted house

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"G'morning, doll," Pete whispered into your ear, placing a kiss in your neck.

With a smile on your face, you shifted your body so that you were facing your boyfriend, and ran your hands through his short hair. "Good morning," you cooed, snuggling closer to him.

He placed a kiss onto the top of your head. "Whaddya want for breakfast? I'm making," he murmured into your hair.

"Mm... cheese omelette and blueberry pancakes," you hummed.

"I can do cheese on toast and a bowl of strawberry yogurt."

"Perfect," you giggled, pecking him on the lips before climbing out of bed and putting on your gown, Pete doing the same. "I'm gonna go get the mail, okay babe?"

Pete muttered an 'okay' and the two of you walked downstairs, him going into the kitchen and you going outside to the mailbox.

The crisp morning air felt amazing, and you inhaled deeply as you stepped down the porch and towards the mailbox. Extending a greeting and a smile to your neighbour, you opened the box and removed the contents, shuffling through them as you walked back up the path to the house. One particular flyer caught your attention.

"The houses on Green Street are having a street garage sale later today," you announced as you entered the kitchen, where Pete was buttering some toast, "I think I'm gonna go."

Pete made an unimpressed face. "No, ew. Those things are just plain weird."

"No, they're not," you argued, moving to pour some coffee from the pot, "You never know what hidden gems you might find there."

He scoffed. "This isn't 'The Goonies'," he placed the cheese on the toast, "The only thing you'll find there is diseases."

"Pete!"

"Sorry, but it's true," he shrugged, holding his hands in the air before turning and getting the yogurt from the fridge. "You don't know where those things have been."

"I'm going," you said, close to his ear so that he was sure to hear you.

"Fine," he sneered, pouring the yogurt out from the container, "just don't bring home anything haunted."

~

Rummaging through the various boxes and crates in the garage of house number fifteen, you tucked your hair behind your ears and blew out a breath. You'd been searching these garages for a long while now, and you still hadn't found anything worth taking home.

With a final sigh, you tuned around, about to head home, when a particular object caught your eye. A lopsided grin formed on your face as you approached the small box on one of the bookshelves. Standing on your tiptoes, you reached up to carefully take the box off and admire it. It was one of those old jewellery boxes – the ones that had the dancing ballerina inside, complete with a wind-up key at the back of it.

The grin on your face grew wider the more you studied it. The box must've been at least a decade old, but was still in surprisingly mint condition; whoever owned it must've taken exceptionally good care of it. Running your fingers over the patterned outside, you rested it on the clasp in front, using your other hand to wind it up a few times before opening it. A mechanised rendition of 'Swan Lake' began to play, and you watched in admiration as the tiny ballerina spun around. You used to have one of them when you were little; your grandma had given it to you one year for your birthday, and it was your most prized possession. Until it got lost, that is. You used to carry it everywhere with you; a habit that proved to be detrimental when you'd lost it in the park one day.