"Babe, please. Let me carve my damn pumpkin."

Dallas groaned, shoving away the pumpkin that you had carved away from his body.

He continued to scrape out the guts of his pumpkin, placing them into a glass bowl in the center of the table. Pumpkin seeds were scattered about his hands and around the table, his arms covered in the sticky substance.

Dallas was most likely a bit overstimulated by the whole carving process, disliking the feeling of the pumpkin guts on his hands tremendously.