#Halloween Writing Challenge

[aurorawritestoescape]

CRAVING YOU

Joel Miller x f!reader || 3,9k

Summary: after a breakup you throw a big Halloween party and look for someone hot to spend the night with, but no one attracts your attention. That is until you see Joel.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, age gap (how big is up to you bb), soft!Joel, soft!dom vibes, sex with a stranger, praise kink, fingering, squirting, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, reader getting emotional, aftercare, talk of past heartbreak, smoking. Pics are only for the mood but reader wears a described slutty costume. Joel can lift reader.

A/n: this is written for @mermaidgirl30 ‘s Halloween writing challenge. Thank you for the fun event, Jamie!🩷 Smooches to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Happy Halloween everyone!🎃🖤

MASTERLIST

“As if!”

You push away another drunk frat boy off yourself and head to the kitchen to get yourself a drink. Yes, you look hot as hell practically naked in your red bra, tiny red skirt and a red latex coat over your naked shoulders but it doesn’t give them the right to get handsy with you. Walking through your parents’ house, dark except for the strobing lights, drowning in loud music, you wonder why you invited all of these assholes but it’s totally on you. You wanted to throw a big Halloween party after breaking up with your long-term boyfriend. Not so ‘long’ anymore. He was the one you planned to marry. To spend all your life with. You were high school sweethearts, went to the same college and suddenly all your plans turned to ashes. You found yourself lost, heartbroken and in need of comfort. Tonight you wanted to be hugged or fucked or both.

But unfortunately nobody has attracted your attention. You’re walking through the buzzing crowd but suddenly you stop in your tracks as soon as you spot him.

He’s standing outside in the empty backyard, illuminated by the string lights and the moon. His back is to the house and the first thing you notice is a tool belt, hanging around his hips. A builder costume? Interesting.

The belt attracts your attention to his gorgeous ass and even from afar you see that it looks delicious in jeans. You bite your lip, imagining your hands on those cheeks.

His back is broad. Strong. A plaid shirt is strained over his muscular shoulders. His dark curls shine with the silver of the moon.

Like a shark finally smelling its prey, you start moving towards him, pushing away everyone in your way. You slide a glass door, releasing the music and the chatter of the party into the yard, and the loud sounds make the man turn. Internally you squeal with excitement when you see his handsome features, partially hidden behind the cigarette smoke. When it dissipates, your breath hitches. His prominent nose is asking to be sat on, his dark eyes are scorching every inch of your exposed skin yet his plush lips curve into a warm smile at the sight of you sauntering towards him.

”Hey,” you purr, waving at the stranger with your fingers. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

You offer him your hand and he blows the smoke to the side, before gently shaking it.

“Sorry, miss. I’m Joel. Joel Miller.”

You tell him your name and notice his eyes linger on your body, barely covered and sparkling with glitter. In your mind you smirk— you’re so fucking him tonight.

“Jus’ havin’ a smoke. I’ll leave soon.”

“No, why, it’s allowed,” you giggle and look him up and down before adding. “I really love your costume, Joel.”

You step up closer to him and slide your index finger along the tool belt, stopping over his big bulge. You both glance down and he smiles,

“ ‘s not a costume, sweetheart. I’m a contractor. The man who owns this house wants to redo some stuff in the backyard. He told me I could come and take the measurements tonight. My crew is starting work tomorrow. Didn’t know there’d be a party.”

He glances at the house and chuckles, seeing someone do a keg stand in the living room.

“Oh.”

You realize why your father had told you to keep the guests out of the backyard. Strangely the fact that he’s a contractor makes the situation even hotter. You give Joel a little smile, batting your eyelashes at him, and whisper, “My mistake.”

“It’s ok. ‘s Halloween after all. What are you?" Joel asks, taking in your 'costume' that barely covers anything. To lure him in further, you push your chest out and your red coat opens up more, showing the man all of your assets. Joel shifts on his feet and you wonder if his jeans are getting too tight.

"I'm a girl who wants to have fun tonight."

You give him a loaded smile and in a second giggle as his eyebrows shoot up.

"I'm the devil, Joel."

You tilt your head down and point at your little red horns.

Joel nods slowly, taking another drag of his cigarette. His gaze sticks to your breasts, your belly, your barely covered thighs.

"Lookin' great, sweetheart. I'm ready to sell my soul."

Melting from the pet name, you tilt your head to the side and ask in a sultry voice, "Oh, really? And what do you want for your soul, Joel?"

The man narrows his eyes at you and his tongue slides over the lower lip as he contemplates his answer for a second.

"Jus' what every man wants, I reckon."

"What's that?"

"A sexy devil ready to grant his every wish."

It seems that you stop breathing and immediately feel yourself getting wet. Your heart is fluttering as he’s flirting with you. Your gazes are dancing over each other’s bodies, hungry and enticing, and he puts out the cigarette and inches closer to you. Your eyes lock, challenging each other to act on your desires.

“Guess you got lucky tonight, Joel” you whisper.

His smile is downright devilish.

“Not yet, sweetheart.”

Your voices are barely audible with the music, blasting inside the house, but you hear each other perfectly well. It feels intimate even with a bunch of people, partying behind the glass doors. There’s no one else in the world, just Joel and you, and the moon, bathing you two in its pearly light. Heat radiating from his big body contrasts with the chilly air, and you shiver.

“Let’s go inside, you’re cold,” he offers, motioning to the house, but you’d hate to be interrupted by anyone.

“There’s a guest house over there — I’ve heard. I doubt you’ve already measured stuff there.”

You bite your lower lip as a fear grips your stomach. What if he says ‘no’? Rejection would cut you like a knife right now. But Joel surprises you.

He lifts his hand to your face and pinches your chin, holding you in place. His tone is serious all of a sudden.

“Are you drunk?”

His piercing eyes are assessing your face for a few seconds and you slowly but surely drown in them.

“No. Only had one drink. I’m fine.”

You look at his lips, your breath frozen, until he replies,

“Actually... You are right. Let’s go take a look at that house.”

Flashing him a mischievous grin, you take his big warm hand and start walking. On your way there your core is tingling with anticipation. You've never done anything like this before. Never been so turned on by someone you’ve just met. But your body burns with the need and you take a leap.

As soon as you step through the door, finally away from the annoying party in the main house, you take your coat off, hop on a desk and playfully beckon Joel with your finger. You feel sexy and ready to have fun.

He looks around the place and then his obsidian eyes focus on you. He prowls closer, taking his tool belt off.

“You can leave it on,” you purr, planting your hands on the surface behind you and arching your back.

He shakes his head. “Don’t wanna hurt you…sharp tools.”

He throws the belt on the floor and steps up between your spread thighs. You throw your legs wider apart and your short skirt rides up, exposing your pussy covered by red panties.

Joel’s eyes land there immediately and he mumbles, “Fuckin’ hell.”

Happy with the effect you have on the man, you lean forward and press a kiss to his scruffy cheek. He drags his nose down to your neck and then whispers into your ear,

“Why are you doin’ this?”

You smile at the question. “Because I’m horny. And you’re hot.”

“Hmm, let me ask again. Why— are you doin’ this? Don’t lie now.”

You pull away and glare at him, your brows furrowed. His eyes are set on your face, his expression serious, waiting, and you snap, not hiding your rising frustration.

“Can’t a girl just wanna get fucked?”

His hands run over your naked thighs, and then he brings them to your shoulders. Joel glides his thumbs over your skin there, while his warm eyes are darting between yours.

“Yes, baby, but usually there’s a deeper reason.”

A few seconds pass and his soft gaze breaks your walls, emotions stir in your chest, and you feel your throat tighten and drop your head, averting your eyes from the man.

“My boyfriend… he cheated on me.”

A few moments pass before Joel gruffs,

“The fuck’s his problem? Is he insane?”

You smile and Joel sighs before leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Soft then,” he mumbles against your sensitive skin, sending vibrations through your trembling body.

“What?” you ask as your soft lips are grazing his beard. Joel presses kisses to your face, slowly moving to your mouth.

“I needed to ask— to know how to fuck you, baby.”

Your lips finally meet and he kisses you as his hands wrap around your body.

The kiss makes your head spin. He smells like a cheap deodorant and something so manly, your core floods with sticky lust. His scent intoxicates you. It’s completely different from your ex’s and it makes you throb. Your core, burning with desire, demands him inside you and the ache between your legs sends your hands to his belt. Your body is pleading, ‘Give me— please—need you’.

Joel gently bites your lower lip, slightly pulling away, and you murmur,

“Fuck me.”

He searches for your eyes and takes your impatient hands in his.

“No.”

You open your mouth to protest but he continues,

“I wanna make you feel good first. Can I?”

You nod and then softly gasp as Joel cups your pussy over your panties and his thumb slides up and down caressing your clit under the thin fabric.

”Have you let anyone touch you after… him?”

You shake your head, your lips parted, your nails digging into his shoulders, as you’re watching him take you apart even with a barrier of the material. It’s unbelievable that a fire is already smoldering deep inside you. You struggle to remember the last time your ex turned you on so hard and so fast.

“Am I your rebound then?” Joel asks and your eyes snap up to his. Your stomach drops in fear of him getting offended. But you see his plush lips curve into a smile as he reassures you,

“It’s fine, sweetheart. I don’t mind. I’d be a fool. Look at you.”

His hungry gaze slides down your face, your neck, your chest until it lands on his own hand still pressed to your pussy. Then his thumb snakes under the gusset of your panties and a lightning bolt shoots through your body when his finger finds and starts swirling your slippery clit.

A pathetic whine leaves your parted lips and he pulls you closer to him with his free hand on your lower back.

”Oh my god,” you moan and he takes a deep breath, his cheek pressed to yours. His lips tickle your skin, your whole body burning up under his caress, as he whispers into your ear,

“Do you feel it— how wet you’re?”

His finger is gliding easily over your puffy clit with all the slick lubing his and your skin, and you mewl a soft ‘yeah’.

“Such a good girl for me. But anyone can make a girl come like this—,”

“My ex rarely could,” you blurt out with a hazy smile.

Joel chuckles and his beard lightly rubs your cheek.

“Damn. What an ass.”

You’re so lost in pleasure that you just hum, breathing in his scent.

“Baby, can I put my fingers inside you? Wanna make you feel real good.”

You think, if you’re even capable of thinking right now, that you’d let him do anything to you. Of course you agree, surrendering your body to the man you see for the first time in your life, spreading your thighs a little wider as a silent invitation.

“Thank you, my sexy devil,” Joel growls and his mouth crushes against yours before his middle finger pushes into your sopping hole.

The noise you make doesn’t sound devilish. It’s a soft whimper that he swallows, not parting from your lips even for a second, even to watch his ring finger quickly join the first one. He’s kissing you feverishly, licking into your mouth, while his thick digits plunge in and out your squelching pussy with a steady rhythm. You tilt your hips up to grant him better access and he dives in deeper, claiming the furthest parts of your core.

Joel breaks the kiss and presses his sweaty forehead to yours.

“Listen to yourself— moaning on my fingers like this— imagine what I can do with my cock.”

“Joel, please,” you beg not sure why- to make him stop talking or asking him to continue. He knows the answer even better than you.

“You’ll be screaming my name soon, little devil. Give me a chance and you’ll be screaming it every day.”

He drops his gaze and you follow.

A lustful moan falls from your lips when you see his manly fingers move in and out your glistening entrance, your panties and his digits are coated in your shiny slick. The sight adds pleasure to your already ecstatic sensations.

“It’s like my fingers belong in your pussy, sweetheart.”

He almost pulls them out but then hooks them inside you and his pads start rubbing a spot that makes your core vibrate and eyes roll back.

“Yeah—oh, yeahhhh—“, you moan, digging your nails into his shoulders mercilessly as you feel your climax approaching fast.

“Fuck! you’ll make me bust into my jeans soundin’ like this —lookin’ like this.”

Joel is massaging your soft spot for a few moments and suddenly you feel tickling pressure rise under his touch and a panic grips your heart.

“Oh no, Joel—wait—,” you mumble but in a second you feel warm wetness rush out of you as Joel keeps fingering you, lewd noises filling the room, and your thighs, the desk, Joel’s jeans get splayed with your clear juices.

“Yes! fuck, yes! Give it to me, baby!”

With the added wetness you come hard, shaking on the slippery desk, and Joel holds you with a free hand, pressing his body closer to yours, while your whole world squeezes into the size of this room, where the man you’ve just met is making you see the brightest stars behind your eyelids.

As soon as your body stops trembling, you fall into his embrace and Joel holds you against his chest, letting you catch your breath. His arms, secure and strong around you, send waves of comfort to your heart and suddenly you feel wetness not only between your naked thighs but also in your eyes.

You sit up on the desk, your eyes glistening, your hands gripping his shirt, and give him a warm smile, full of affection and gratitude.

Joel chuckles and kisses your cheek,

“Have you never squirted before? You looked so terrified, little thing.”

You shake your head and drop it, hiding your eyes but also assessing the damage. The desk is a mess.

Joel notices your unease and takes your chin between his fingers.

“I’ll deal with it. Don’t worry.” Then he lifts your face to his and winks, “I’m honored to be the first.”

You’re trying to keep yourself from melting under his dark brown eyes but it’s hard. Your whole body is longing for him, his touch, his lips. Joel’s gorgeous and he’s just given you the best orgasm of your life. What chances have you got?

So you give in to your heart‘s and pussy’s desire.

“I want you, Joel. Want you to fuck me.”

Joel runs his hands over your whole body with a smile before saying,

“I’d love to fuck you, baby. But tonight I think you need me to make love to you. Let me do that.”

You feel warmth stir deep in your belly before replying with a quiet but confident ‘yes’ and in the next second Joel wraps your legs around his waist and lifts you off the desk.

“There must be a bed here,” he mumbles, carrying you to another room and you hum into the crease of his neck. You know there’s one.

The bed is soft and warm under you in comparison with the desk but you don’t think about it. Your whole being is focused on the man discarding his clothes in front of you. You can’t help but moan when he takes his boxers off and climbs on the bed completely naked. His body is strong, the broad chest and shoulders make your hands itch to touch and squeeze them, your lips desire to trace his happy trail down and to kiss his big hard cock, standing proudly. He’s perfect.

“Your turn baby,” he motions to your ‘costume’, and when you sit up he stops you.

“Let me. Please.”

You gladly give him full control and your body vibrates under his fingers when he slowly and gently undresses you.

Both naked except for the horns on your head, you immediately gravitate to each other and the sensation of his hot skin against yours sends shivers through your body.

“Cold, sweetheart? I’ll warm you up.“

Joel kisses you again and pushes you to lie down before getting between your thighs and covering your body with his. His leaking cock smears precum over your belly and you impatiently start rubbing your folds against his shaft, chasing any pressure you can get.

“My devil’s needy, huh? Pretty girl wants my cock?”

“Yes, please,” you whine and Joel locks eyes with you.

“Wait a second—“ he mumbles, about to leave you, but you wrap your arms around him.

“No, I need to feel you. Fully. No condoms.”

Joel presses his forehead to yours.

“You sure? I promise I’m clean but —.”

“Me too. I’ve had sex only with my ex. Ever.”

He looks into your eyes and you don’t see pity there, only care, respect.

“If you’re sure, baby—.”

He kisses you again and you feel his hand slither between your bodies as he grabs his cock and pushes the tip past your folds. The fat head nudges your soft hole and you gasp when he begins pushing his length in, inch by inch, careful not to hurt you.

“Fuckin’—sorry, hnggg—that’s it, little devil. Taking me so good.”

And you are taking him easily, despite his size. You’ve been opened up by his thick fingers, your recent orgasm, and you happily welcome him into your warmth and wetness.

When Joel bottoms out, he growls and you wrap your arms and legs around him tightly. With your lips caressing each other, he begins rocking his hips against you, sending his cock deeper and deeper, until it hits your cervix and you bite his lip.

Joel smirks, “Naughty devil. You feel too fuckin’ good to be real.”

You smile, your eyes hazy as they roll behind your head, when Joel changes an angle and begins rutting into you, stroking the right spot over and over.

You moan loudly and he swallows your noises with another kiss. You’re clawing at his arms and back, making him groan, spreading your thighs wider for him to take everything from you, to give him yourself completely. Your puffy clit grinds against his pelvic bone and another orgasm crests in your core.

With every thrust the head of his cock deliciously massages you from the inside and he picks up the pace sending you higher until another climax blooms behind your clit and explodes in the deepest part of your core and you come apart from both stimulations.

You scream his name just like Joel predicted and he doesn’t shut you with a kiss this time. His eyes are on you, drinking your pleasure.

“Yeah, good girl. Take it, baby— fuck! your pussy —choking me —ahhhh…”

He moans and you feel warmth spread inside you when he starts squirting his seed against your pulsating walls. You wrap your legs around him tighter to keep him in, take all of it gratefully. Your pussy is fluttering around his throbbing cock and you keep whimpering while his hips thrust in, sending his load deeper.

After Joel fills you up, he stills inside you and searches for your eyes. Through heavy breaths he asks you, brows knitted together, voice worried,

“What is it? Did I hurt you? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

When he cups your cheek, you realize that you’re crying, tears streaming down your face to your temples, your chest shaking with quiet sobs.

“No, I’m not hurt— I don’t know— I don’t know—,” you shake your head, mumbling, confused by your own reaction but he doesn’t push further.

Joel gently pulls out, lies down next to you and takes you in his arms. His body presses to yours as he covers you both with the bedspread. He leans closer and kisses your forehead, your cheeks and you slowly calm down, comforted by your lover.

“I don’t usually cry after sex. I’m sorry,” you whisper after a few minutes, still sniffing from time to time, and he glides his warm hands over your back.

“‘s ok, baby. Is it me?”

“No! Well, kinda—yes. Because it was amazing. I’ve never felt so good before.”

You feel Joel’s smile against your forehead, and you lift your face to his and whisper,

“Thank you.“

“My pleasure.”

With a twinkle in his eye, he presses his lips to yours and softly kisses you, hesitant to push too soon, too hard. But you know what you want so you deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue between his lips and soon you’re making out as your pussy clenches around nothing. Your inner thighs are wet and sticky but you don’t care.

When Joel breaks the kiss, he locks eyes with you.

“I doubt you’re the devil, baby.”

“Oh?” You sound a little offended.

“Yeah. I think you’re the most beautiful angel. Too perfect for any asshole on this planet.”

Your lips curve into a smile as you purr,

“You don’t seem like an asshole.”

“Thank you,” he smiles back.

He pulls you in closer again and you two rest together, relishing the new-found intimacy. Joel is the first to break the silence.

”Did he ever apologize?”

The question rings loudly in the quiet room. An hour ago it would make you upset, as a reminder of the biggest heartbreak of your life. Now it barely grazes your soul.

”No.”

Joel hugs you tighter and murmurs,

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

You take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the scent of Joel’s skin. Breathing out the pain of the previous relationship.

You’re lying in each other’s arms for a few more minutes until Joel searches for your eyes.

“We can’t let this night be the only one. What do you say, baby? Can I see you again?”

Your heart sings but then drops into your stomach. You have to tell him. After clearing your throat, you admit,

”This client of yours. It’s my dad. I live here—,” You see Joel’s eyebrows rise up and quickly add, “I can stop by the backyard tomorrow? If you’d like.”

Regret is clawing at your chest. Why haven’t you said anything sooner? He probably hates you now. But Joel smirks, lifting weight off your soul.

“You’re full of surprises, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Naughty devil.”

With that he pushes you down and kisses your smiling lips.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

MASTERLIST

Tag list:@milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40

[milla-frenchy]

October 31

2k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller | ao3 | masterlist Summary: you go out to meet your two fwb for Halloween, a perfect evening for urban exploration

Warnings: 18+ mdni. noncon by manipulation, glove kink, mask kink, mfm, degradation, oral (m), piv, creampie. Age gap unspecified

a/n:  thanks for the ask, @megangovier 😘❤️ I took some liberties and turned it into something a little different. I hope you’ll like it 🙏❤️

This is written for @mermaidgirl30 's Halloween writing challenge Thank you for the event 🎃👻

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing, ily 😘🫶 dividers @/saradika-graphics 🙏

October 31. 

Your favorite day of the year. The day of costumes and night outs in such a special atmosphere.

You had just left Joel Miller's house, after going to see his daughter Sarah. She was a really lovely kid, curious and funny, and you had stayed in touch, even if she didn't need a babysitter anymore. She would have loved to come with you tonight, but you couldn't take her. You and your friends had been doing urban exploration for a few months, and tonight you were going to explore an abandoned hospital that you had spotted. You couldn't take the responsibility of taking her, and you knew her father would never agree anyway.

Not to mention that you were going there with your two friends with benefits, Randy and Cotton, and you didn't want to give up on an outing that could lead to something spicier.

You had agreed to meet at the old doctors' entrance. The sign was still there, above the door, even if it was only hanging on one side. Your two friends were waiting for you, behind the front door, dressed as Ghostface: masks, capes, black shoes and gloves. One of them had the famous fake knife, and the other - a shotgun which he leaned nonchalantly against his shoulder.

“Very original,” you laughed when you entered the building. “Are you gonna ask me about my favorite horror movie, too?”

They chuckled, the sound half muffled by their masks, and you walked down the hospital hallway. When you passed the first door, they signaled to you not to make any noise, a gloved index finger in front of their mouth, at the same time. You were always silent when you visited a place, to be sure to hear every possible noise.

The place was very run-down, littered with debris. You reached for an electrical panel and flicked it without much hope, but the lights came on. Some were broken, some were flickering, but you could see a little better than with your flashlights. A wheelchair was in the middle of the hallway. A lot of equipment had been broken.

At the end of the corridor there was a staircase that led to the upper floors. Cotton walked past. You knew it was him because he was the shorter one. You followed him, Randy closing the way. He caressed your ass with his gloved hand as you walked up, making you giggle. You swayed your hips to tease him and he squeezed your ass cheek. You could have sworn you heard him mumble something, but you couldn't clearly hear what escaped his lips.

You kept exploring, and reached the top floor. The rooms were less damaged, but the lighting didn't work there and you had to use your flash lights to illuminate your way. When you reached the last room, Randy approached you and brushed your cheek with his gloved hand, then your neck. Squeezing it lightly between his fingers.

“I’m glad I told you about my glove kink,” you breathed in his ear. “It’s a perfect day to please me with it.”

He groaned, his other hand gripping your ass and pressing you against his already hard cock.

“Well, well… someone’s in the mood…” you smiled.

Your other friend came closer, pressing himself against your back. He was hard too. Randy grabbed his crotch in his hand and palmed himself slowly. He tilted his head to the side, pressing the tip of his knife to his temple. With your ass against Cotton's cock, you were breathless as you were watching your friend, in this costume, touch himself. Then he took your hand and placed it on his length. He was so hard that you already couldn’t wait for them to fuck you, however they wanted to.

They had brought a voice distorter and he turned it on, for the first time since you were here.

“Blow me, sweetheart,” he said, without hesitation in the voice distorted by the device. You were a little surprised by his confidence, but it suited the character after all. He took his cock out as you knelt down, knees in the dust, and licked the tip that he was holding towards you. His scent was stronger than usual, but it was turning you on. You rounded your lips around the tip, greedy to taste him there, in that place, head already boobing, his strong precum flowing down your throat. Everything was arousing you: the place, the situation, the darkness. Part of you was a little worried that another group could still come in, but you knew your friends were there to protect you. 

When the second cock appeared in front of you, you were surprised. This was new. The three of you often fucked, but your friends never got this close to each other. You released the cock in your mouth with a pop, your face rose to the two of them, and you smiled. You didn’t wait and sucked the tip. You were horny as hell.

Your first friend - Randy - put his hand on the back of your head, and pushed you further towards the cock in your mouth. You moaned and slid your hand under your Halloween costume, then into your panties. Unable to resist the primal need that enveloped you. He kept pressing on your head to take the other cock deeper in your mouth. Cotton was pushing further too, until his tip hit the back of your throat. Randy held you in place, saying “look at that, ain’t she a good girl?” in the voice distorter.

“Yeah, that’s a really, really good girl…turning into a perfect slut for these cocks,” the other replied in the device.

You whimpered, his cock in your mouth. He released you and you felt that your fingers were covered by your wetness. Turned on by their attitude, their confidence.

“Fuck me, I need it,” you asked with a desire in your voice.

“Come here,” Randy ordered. “Wanna feel this slutty mouth again.” 

“Fuck… you’re turning me on like never before, when you speak to me like that,” you breathed, turning to Randy. 

“Yeah, we learnt our lesson,” Cotton added as he positioned himself behind you. He pressed the back of your neck to make you lean forward towards Randy’s cock which he was holding close to your mouth. Randy brushed his gloved finger against your folds then pushed it in slightly. The new sensation of the leather inside you made you whine, just before the cock in front of you nudged your lips. You opened them, eager to have his taste in your mouth again. His thickness. Behind you, Cotton caressed your folds and your clit, before pushing in two fingers, still gloved. The feeling was overwhelming. Then he pulled his hand away, and you moaned at the loss.

“Our little whore needs more,” Randy chuckled, balls deep in your mouth.

“We’re gonna give her what she wants. She’s gonna take-” he said, suddenly thrusting his cock in your core “-what she needs.”

“Fuck, Cotton?!” you exclaimed as you pulled away under his roughness, just before Randy went back in, almost forcing you on his cock.

“Shut up and take it. And don’t stop blowing me. Oh fuck, your mouth is so good, baby.”

They were passing the device around, using your body, moving it forward and backward depending on when the cock was thrusting in your pussy, and when the other was sinking into your throat.

“Fuck, man, she’s so good.”

“Told ya she’d love being fucked in here.”

You freed your mouth, just long enough to say “so you talk about me when I’m not there? To decide how or where you’re gonna fuck me?”

“Yeah,” Randy replied, before sliding his cock between your lips again. “We talked about this night a lot, baby.”

“Mmmm…,” you hummed against the shaft fucking your mouth.

“Damn man, that was such a good idea.” 

They high fived above your back, the clap ringing in the silence of the room, before you heard moans and growls again, and skin against skin.

They used your body, groaning more and more, telling what a slut you were, taking both of their cocks there. You pulled back just enough to remove the cock from your mouth, jerking the shaft covered in your saliva.

“Aren’t you afraid that we’ll make too much noise? That someone could come here?”

“Don’t worry sweetheart. Even if someone comes, there’s no way they’d touch you. This pussy’s ours, and only ours right now.”

Randy shoved his cock into your mouth again, stopping you from responding.

“Fuck, her mouth’s heaven. Did you think you’d get spit roasted, baby? Taking two cocks in here?”

“uh hu,” you mumbled, mouth full.

“You wanna switch, man? I wanna fuck this cunt.”

“Yeah! Lemme feed her mouth again.”

They turned places so quickly that you didn't have time to straighten up, and they immediately stuffed you full again.

“Oh damn. Her cunt’s fucking soaked...”

“Yeah, I spread her wide. Huh, baby?”

Randy’s gloved hand brushed your clit, surprisingly softly as his other hand gripped your hip tightly and he kept thrusting in your cunt.

“You’re gonna come, baby? You’re gonna come while we use you like a fuck doll, filling your two slutty holes?”

“Mmmm,” you mumbled again, as Cotton held your cheeks tightly in his hands, moaning louder and louder, until he stilled, cock buried in your mouth, and his cum spurted against the back of your throat. He held you in place, panting, breathing heavily, until you pulsed on Randy’s shaft, moans muffled by the thick cock still in your mouth.

Cotton didn’t let go of you, until you heard Randy breathe heavily. He fucked you harder, faster, hands firmly buried in the flesh of your hips. 

They both held you until he came too, long jets of hot sperm filling the bottom of your pussy. 

They finally released you, mouth and pussy filled. You thought that it was the best October 31st of your life. 

You smiled blissfully as you got up, and placed a kiss on the covered cheeks of each of them. Cotton gave you some water from his backpack, before you walked to the ground floor, then to the parking lot. They waited for you to leave, waving at you when you looked at them. The knife and the gun in their other hands.

The next afternoon, you went to see Sarah to surprise her. You told her about the hospital, without mentioning the final part, of course. While she was preparing lunch for the two of you, you asked her for the Scream DVD you had lent her. You wanted to watch it again that night. She told you to get it back from her father's room.

"I didn't know your father liked horror movies?"

"Me neither, actually," she replied with a shrug. “He told me he wanted to watch it. It surprised me too.”

You went upstairs and entered Joel's bedroom. He had a TV on the dresser, and you approached it to get the DVD that was probably there. 

A backpack on the floor caught your eye. A Ghostface mask was sticking out of it. A lump formed in your stomach, but you didn’t really understand why. Halloween had just passed. What could be more common than those masks? Even your friends were wearing them last night. 

Though, curiosity got over you, and you grabbed the backpack and put it on the bed then opened it wider. You took out two masks, leather gloves and two long black capes.

Your instinct made the ball in your stomach double in size. You went back down, trembling.

“Did you spend yesterday’s evening with your dad, Sarah?”

“No, he had some work to do with Tommy. He came home late.”

You smiled mechanically before grabbing your phone, and frantically searched for Randy’s name.

“Did you get home safely last night, after the hospital?”

“What are you talking about? I sent you a message telling you we couldn't go?”

Your hand clenched your phone when you hung up, your body frozen. You remembered the evening before, hearing Sarah’s father come down the stairs from her bedroom, walking into the dining room. You remembered you heard him on the phone “Tommy? Yeah, everything’s ready.”

You remembered the moment you left the Millers’. after taking your phone that you had left on their dining room table. Unattended.

An icy feeling ran down your spine, when you remembered all that.

You thought about the looks Joel Miller gave you sometimes. You thought of last Sunday, when Sarah had invited you to lunch. Tommy Miller had opened the door for you, his gaze sliding over you up and down without any discretion. Then the look he exchanged with his brother.

You barely had time to open the front door and threw up in the driveway.

“Something got stuck in your throat, sweetheart?” Joel asked you as he got out of his truck, after parking.

Tommy chuckled, joining his brother in front of you. Their posture seemed all too familiar to you, suddenly. The same smirk crossed their faces. 

You threw up again.

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

npt: tagging those who showed interest in the wip wednesday post, love you ❤️

@lover-of-books-and-tea @sawymredfox @baronessvonglitter @itwasntimethatdidit40 @thundermartini

@schnarfer @mountainsandmayhem @pascalssbabyy @604to647

[baronessvonglitter]

The Haunting of David York

Dave York x ghost!reader

Word count: 2.6K

Summary: It's a typical Halloween night for Dave. The last thing he expects is for you to come back and get your revenge.

(Spoilers below the cut, so resume with caution)

WARNINGS: Rated M; Dead Dove Do Not Eat; mentions of wet work, murder, brief gore, threats of violence towards family, major character death (don't hit me)

Author's Note: this fic is for @mermaidgirl30 Jamie's Halloween Writing Challenge 👻 thank you for hosting this lovely fic challenge!

The idea for this started out as a random discussion about why we're afraid of ghosts if they can't really hurt anyone.. then I wanted to add our favorite suburban murder daddy to a ghost story and got some inspo from watching old school stuff like Creepshow and early seasons of AHS. (I haven't written horror in a very long time, so gimme a little break)

Shoutout to @yorksgirl for the Dave chit chats-- there will be a sweatpants scene in another fic, promise!

"Dave, not again!" Carol whines from the front steps.

"What?" he asks innocently, hefting the human-sized 'body bag' consisting of garbage bags stuffed with leaves and tied up with duct tape to fashion a corpse decoration in the yard for Halloween. Dave has been working on them all day. He's now up to seventeen.

"The HOA is going to complain," his wife shakes her head. "We got away with a warning last year. This time they'll definitely fine us."

"It's worth it to see the looks on everyone's faces," he insists. "Besides, I'll have them picked up and out of sight by the end of the night. I promise."

Dave doesn't love Halloween, but neither does he mind it. People dressing up to be anything other than themselves for one night only? Try doing that 24/7.

He doesn't get to parade around the Mr. Hyde aspect of his life. He doesn't get to knock on doors while in tactical gear, sniper rifle resting in one arm while he sticks an orange jack-o-lantern bucket out to get a handful of tooth-rotting sweets. He doesn't get to wake up on November first and pretend it was all for fun.

It's a silly holiday, but he likes scaring the shit out of the neighbors with the decorations. And his kids love planning their costumes months in advance. Alice is going as a zombie cheerleader (he never understands where these ideas come from) and Molly is some type of Pokemon Dave thinks is a squirrel but she insists is something called an Evoo or Evie or something completely asinine.

Carol usually insists on taking them out trick-or-treating, dressing up herself in a last-minute Minnie Mouse getup, a red sweater and black leggings, and a headband with sequined mouse ears to complete the look.

"You'll be okay here by yourself?" she asks, putting the finishing touches on her mouse whiskers and nose with liquid eye liner in the hall mirror as the girls wait impatiently to leave.

She asks that every year, as if something bad will happen on his watch, as if he can't hack it alone for a couple of hours.

"Unless Michael Myers or Pennywise show up, I'm pretty sure I'll be fine," he says, giving the girls a quick kiss before they go.

"What's Pennywise?" Alice asks as Carol herds them out the door, and she shoots her husband an annoyed glance.

There aren't as many trick-or-treaters this year, and Dave regrets that he'd bought so much candy. He dips his hand into the large tub of mini chocolate bars and fruit-flavored chews that stick to one's teeth and selects some Nerds, eating them straight from the tiny box. With barely concealed disgust he finds the candy corn, plucking the small packets of the hated sweets out from the bowl. He doesn't know how anyone can eat these. These can go to the next kids who ring the doorbell. When the next round of costumed kids come around he gives out huge handfuls. The less sweets they have in the house, the less sugar-fueled meltdowns he's likely to experience from his kiddos.

When there's more of a lull he relaxes on the sofa, mindlessly unwrapping a chocolate bar as the Halloween song hums from the TV, The Nightmare Before Christmas playing where the girls had left it on:

Boys and girls of every age wouldn't you like to see something strange? come with us and you will see this, our town of Halloween

He finds his glass of Macallan pairs nicely with a mini Hershey's Special Dark chocolate that he knows the little trick-or-treaters won't appreciate. The candy rests on his tongue as he savors the lingering taste of the scotch while the movie keeps playing. He absorbs a little of it, a now thirty-year-old film that came out when he was his kids' age. He watches idly, letting the scotch lull him into a nice semi-rest.

This is Halloween, this is Halloween pumpkins scream in the dead of night this is Halloween, everybody make a scene trick or treat, 'til the neighbors gonna die of fright

Enough of the singing. He changes the channel. There's postseason baseball on TV, but his favorite team isn't in the playoffs, and the announcers are annoying. Click. Of course there's a horror marathon on every channel. All the Scream movies, which he can appreciate for their ingenuity, Psycho, Shaun of the Dead, the entire Friday the 13th franchise even though it's Thursday, the 31st.

He flips channels, mindlessly, watching tidbits of each, digging into the leftover candy once again when he hears a thud.

With feline alertness he mutes the TV and sits up straight in one swift move. He zones in on where the sound came from, waiting, his racing heart the most audible sound in his ears.

Most people listen for a sound and relax when they don't hear it again, chalking it up to the house settling, or a rodent in the attic. But Dave knows better. He's been on the opposite side of this type of situation countless times. He doesn't relax and just chalk it up to mundane things like other people, because he knows there are guys like him out there-- becoming one with the shadows, as silent as possible--

It's coming from the back door.

In stealth mode, he grabs his gun from the safe in his study and quickly, skillfully, loads it. Adrenaline sings in his veins, carries him towards the danger. He flips on the light switch for the patio and the lights glare into the dark, lighting up nothing. His gun is still in his hand as he slowly opens the door, listening for footsteps.

Quiet.

A little disappointed that he's gotten riled up for no reason, he sighs as the rush of adrenaline dissipates and leaves him weak for a brief moment.

He keeps the gun in the holster at his side as he returns to the sofa, a little more on edge. It could be just teenage assholes playing pranks out of boredom, but he doesn't want to risk it.

He shuts the TV off and the silence becomes the largest thing in the room, even louder than his thoughts. He's taut as wire, not allowing himself to relax just yet. He's listening for more sounds. Most are explainable: a slow drip in the kitchen sink that Carol told him about just yesterday, the notification pings on his daughter's tablet that she left on the dining room table.

"Fuck!" he curses in surprise as the TV turns on, The Nightmare Before Christmas still playing where it left off:

I am the one hiding under your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red I am the one hiding under your stairs fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair

Dave quickly snaps the TV off, removing the batteries from the remote.

It's just some electrical glitch he tells himself. And then the power goes out completely.

"Shit," he mutters, using his phone to light the way to locate the real flashlight. It's not in the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink where it's supposed to be left. Carol must have moved it. He checks the garage. Through the windows he can see the neighbors still have power, so he grabs the trusty flashlight and checks the breaker box. After fiddling with it, it won't reset. The flips do absolutely nothing.

Heaving a frustrated sigh, he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking out his phone from his pocket. The battery shows 1% before fizzling out to a black screen with the gray spinning wheel before dying.

"You've got to be shitting me," he grumbles. With another curse, he shoves the useless thing back in his pocket, letting the flashlight guide him out of the garage. He may as well get the keys and go try to find Carol and the girls, who are probably several blocks over by now, maybe get them to stay at her mother's place while he gets things sorted out with the power issue.

And then..

he hears the sound of his name spoken, a sharp. accusatory whisper, as if it's right next to him. It's so real he can feel the cold breath against his ear. It makes him jump out of his skin.

Alert, his body tense and ready for action, his eyes dart around the room as he begins to get his bearings back and his heart goes back to its normal rhythm.

Stupid.. he curses himself, sitting upright again. Annoyance colors his face.

But the sound of it.. of your voice still rings in his ear. And he'd know your voice among a thousand others.

Now he knows he's imagining things, because it couldn't have been your voice at all.

You're dead.

He doesn't want to think about that day, a cold autumn day just like this. In fact it'll be one year exactly on November 14th. The last day you saw sunlight, the last day you ever breathed.

It's not that you were bad, you were just in the way. There was no room for you in Dave's perfect, clock-precision life. He tried to make your end painless, make sure you didn't see it coming.

Some secrets don't stay buried forever..

Nobody knows he assures himself. It's impossible.. He'd even kept it from his teammates, and they knew nearly every damn thing about him.

No, this particular job.. the handling of you, had to be done on his own.

Casting a glance at the backyard patio again, the light from his neighbor's back porch glows eerily, spotlighting the patch of earth Dave had avoided until finally he'd caved and erected a bird bath with a small garden, a surprise for Carol's birthday. His wife never suspected that you were buried there, beneath her gift.

Without thinking, he's already walking outside, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other, leading the way to your grave. He never comes out here anymore. The guilt has become too crushing and he's not a man who dwells on guilt. He does what he has to and revisits the issue if problems arise.

You won't arise, though. When he closes his eyes he can still see the bullet hole in your temple, the blank look as the light left your eyes.

Forgive me, he'd thought, unable to speak it aloud as he stuffed your body in a bag and placed you in the dirt on a moonless autumn night.

When he reaches the stone path that leads to your innocent-looking grave marker, he has to process what he sees:

there's a hole in the ground, where some of the rocks and flowers around the bird bath have been upheaved, and in the breeze his flashlight shines on a tattered, empty black body bag. The scent of death greets his nostrils as he pales, trying not to vomit.

He goes back to the house, immediately on the defensive, irrationally expecting to find you there, clothes dirty and hair caked with mud and blood, a specter of his own paranoia and guilt.

It's still shrouded in darkness, the home that is supposed to be his shelter from such dark things as yourself. It's his domain, his castle, and in this trouble, without his family, he feels like less of a king.

"There's no fucking way," he mutters, stomach roiling with fear and suspicion. He opens the patio door and steps inside.

The whole place smells of death, of the grave.

You're in every corner, quiet, waiting, watching. But not impassive.

He feels you everywhere, himself made small by your ubiquitous pall. The gun in his hand feels useless, and this makes him angry.

You feed off his anger. You love it. It's the only thing you can feel anymore. Pure, unadulterated hate.

You slither towards him, wicked grin growing bigger as you approach him. Dave gets the chills down his back, not knowing just how close you are to him.

"Boo" you whisper lightly, ghostly breath caressing the shell of his ear.

Your cackling thunders in his ears as he whips around, eyes wide with fright. You delight in the fear he's giving off. The scent of it it so intoxicating. It's the only good thing about being dead.

"I should make your death as nice and quick and clean as you made mine" your voice echoes all around the room. Dave looks equal parts pissed and afraid as he tries to track you.

"But I won't."

You've been waiting for this night, this one unholy night where you'd be allowed to come back, to gather the unearthly powers granted to you. Halloween: the one night of the year when the living come back to haunt the dead.

And the son of a bitch had the gall to kill you in November. You had to wait almost a whole year for your revenge.

Gonna make it sweet.

It takes a lot of energy to assume something of a human form, but as you grab onto the fear he's giving off, as you use the most ancient of forces to pull your corporeal parts together, it gets easier. You don't feel afraid. You haven't, not since he killed you.

"Consider yourself lucky it's only you I'm after. If I had my way your family's blood would be splattered on these walls along with yours."

Dave shivers violently. "Please, don't!" He's not used to begging or pleading. He's actually on his knees. He tries not to look at you; your visage is too grotesque. Your flesh is falling off your face and your eyes are sunken into your head, giving a ghoulish appearance.

You force his gaze upon you with the ice-cold touch of your hand. "Your family is safe. For now. Hell, there's always next Halloween."

With the cracking open of his ribcage and the spilling of his guts you reach into him, finding the fullness of the heart, the organ he uses the least.

All Dave can do is scream and scream and scream.

The next day Carol sits at the dining room table, two detectives with her. Her coffee has grown cold, barely touched. She still bears the remnants of the makeup she'd put on to complete her costume last night. The girls are upstairs. She couldn't bear sending them to school, having them apart from her. Not while Dave is missing.

"He was fine last night. Normal," she adds, shrugging as she dabs at her eyes with a Kleenex.

Because of his position as a government agent, his disappearance is being taken very seriously. Officers are en route, dispatched to start searching the area, especially the nearby woods, which Carol has always feared.

Dave's gun is there, his wallet, phone, and keys also left behind.

One of the field officers comes in (there have been many people coming in and out of the house today) and motions to the backyard. "Halloween decoration?"

"Yeah," Carol sniffles, smiling just a little. "Dave likes to shock the neighbors. He promised he'd put them away before the morning.. but he never puts them out back.."

Out of guilt, or maybe just to give herself something to do, she gets up and goes to put the decorations away. The detectives follow.

Funny. There's just one.. she thinks, looking at the lone body bag on the lawn, tossed haphazardly next to her bird bath.

It's heavier than she expects. She's too petite to pick it up. Sighing, she kneels, the crunch of the fallen leaves beneath her knees. She'll just take the leaves out and throw the bag away.

Ripping it open with her nails she's stunned a moment, not processing what she's seeing before she lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

Wrapped up in the duct taped body bag is what's left of Dave.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

tagging @almostempty @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @salingers @zascal

[olis-inkwell-symposium]

🕯️ Oli’s Inkwell Symposium Presents 🕯️

Halloween Writing Challenge 1:

Monsters in the Mirror

Prompt:

🎭 We all wear masks, but what happens when that mask slips? For this challenge, write a chilling short story or flash fiction where a character’s hidden, monstrous nature reveals itself at a seemingly innocent Halloween gathering.

Is the monster literal, or does it come from within? As fear takes hold, identities blur and the true horrors emerge.

Focus on psychological horror, exploring themes of self-deception, suppressed desires, and twisted identity.

The monster in your story can be metaphorical or literal, but make sure the story challenges the character’s—and the reader’s—perception of who the real monster is.

The story should contain elements of dark transformation (physical, mental, or emotional), making the reader question the true nature of monstrosity.

⚡ The Twist: The true ‘monster’ should be unexpected. By the end of the story, reveal a hidden truth that changes everything the reader thought they knew.

🕸️ Word Count: 700–2,000 words. Keep it tight and packed with suspense.

🦇 Bonus: Subtly introduce classic horror tropes, with a fresh twist.

🕷️ How to Enter:

Submit your entry by: 10/09/24

Tag your story with 'oli's inkwell symposium' and 'monsters in the mirror challenge'

Be sure to follow and tag me @olis-inkwell-symposium so I can reblog your submission.

The best stories will be featured throughout the entire month, so showcase your most sinister and twisted creations!

[mermaidgirl30]

Come one, come all for this fun Pedro Pascal character Halloween writing challenge! I’m super excited for this and can finally announce it! Moodboards, drabbles, short fics, long fics are all welcome!

You can tag Jamie’s Halloween Writing Challenge, and I’ll put them all together on a post. I’m leaving this open from Oct 1st-31st so you have the whole month. I can’t wait to read them ☺️

Masterlist of Fics

Rules:

1. Have fun!

2. There is no word limit. Write your heart out 😊

3. Pick a Pedro Pascal character and a theme! The theme must revolve around Halloween. Some examples: haunted house, pumpkin patch, trick or treating, costume shopping, masquerade, Halloween party, etc.

I can’t wait to see what you come up with! I don’t host a lot of writing events, so I hope you have fun with this! Tagging some mutuals to spread the word 🧡

@burntheedges @ozarkthedog @mountainsandmayhem @yxtkiwiyxt @sawymredfox

@guiltyasdave @pedrospatch @almostfoxglove @almostempty @magpiepills

@katiexpunk @thundermartini @studioghibelli @syd-djarin @chronically-ghosted

@corazondebeskar-reads @604to647 @sanarsi @lotusbxtch @alltheirdamn

@whxtedreams @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape @strang3lov3 @toxicrecs

@tonysopranosrobe @mrsmando

[darkmattermuse]

October 2024 Writing Prompt Ideas!

We're finally here! To celebrate the spookiest season, I made a list of some ideas for October writing prompts!

Pro Tips:

🎃 Try to spend at least 30mins actually writing, don't get bogged down in thinking and planning

🎃 Challenge yourself to write in different tenses, settings, and genres! You can use a random number generator to help you decide for each day

🎃 Have fun, and have a happy October!

[americasass81]

Toys 'R' Us

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Non-Consensual Sex, Dubious Consensual Sex, Kidnapping, M/F Penetrative Sex (vag & anal), F/F Oral, M/F Oral (f receiving, everything else implied), Implied M/M, Choking, Very Mild Language, Restraints, Fingering, Fisting, Anal, Squirting, Use of Pet Names. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Pairings:- dark!Steve Rogers x Female Reader, dark!Tony Stark x Female Reader, dark!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Author’s Note 1: This is my submission for @jtargaryen18 Halloween Challenge 2023. Having chosen the prompt below, I’m kinda hoping I pulled it and the spooky sense of the season off.  Even if I didn't, I most definitely had fun writing this. Thank so much for hosting this delightful challenge Jamie, you’re an inspiration to so many of us here.  Hope anyone who reads this enjoys 💖

Challenge Prompt:- (The Portal in the Pumpkin: You carve one of the pumpkins Tony ordered, but this one turns out to be a portal to somewhere else...)

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- Whomever told you Halloween parties were supposed to be fun never heard of those involving Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.  What will happen when you accept an invitation to Tony Stark’s latest shindig?

Total Word Count:- 8,278

The invitation showed up in your mail just like it did every year you had worked for Tony Stark.  But this year should have been different.  Oh sure the heroes had stopped Thanos and things had pretty much gone back to normal.  But what it had cost humanity seemed to have been forgotten by everyone but you.  And here was the proof.

Looking at the red envelope with its gold writing you still couldn't believe this was happening.  Tony was dead after all.  Steve had chosen to abandon his friends and those that cared about him to live in the past with some British dame who promised him a dance but had no idea of the man he had become.  And Natasha? Well Nat had willingly sacrificed herself knowing that no power in existence could ever bring her back.

So whose idea was it then that this Halloween should be celebrated in the same fashion Tony celebrated every occasion ... with a fabulous party that people talked about long after it was over.  Opening up your door now and heading inside your home, the shocks continued to rock your system as you ripped open the envelope and pulled out the invitation you were now so used to receiving.

Except this wasn't anything like the previous ones.

Appearing now in ghostly holographic form and coupled with the time of year it was, Tony's voice sent a shiver down your spine as he reached out from beyond the grave and reminded you just how prepared he was for anything life threw his way.  "Hello darling."  Ugh there it was again you thought, that cringe worthy endearment that even in death was still such an integral part of who he was.  "If you're seeing this then I am no longer among the living, but that hardly seems like a valid reason to let my legacy crumble.  Therefore in true Tony Stark fashion," he continued with his hand upon his heart, "your presence is hereby requested at the last Stark party to be hosted by yours truly.  No need to R.S.V.P., it's not like you would deny a dead man's last request after all."

Watching now as he winked back at you before the recording disappeared and left you on your own once again, you dropped onto the couch behind you and tried to think through your options.  You hated parties after all.  In all honesty it had to be the only part of being Tony Stark's assistant that really grated on you.  Long hours.  Tedious requests.  His never ending flirtatious ramblings.  All of these you took in your stride and even laughed off some of them.  But these parties were definitely something you could do without.

Which you figured was why Tony always insisted you show up.  Mixing with humanity was, according to someone who preferred to bury himself with machines, the only way to experience all the thrills life had to offer.  God even now the thought of Tony lecturing you on always choosing books over partying made your eyes roll.  He really knew how to annoy you it seemed.

Yet even in death, the man still had a point.

You could never deny him anything in life and you weren't about to cheat him out of his last request now.  No matter how painful it would be to attend knowing that the man of the hour wasn't going to be there, you would always show up for him.  Giving one last look at the invitation now and acknowledging that you at least had two day to prepare for this blessed event, you then headed off to bed and figured tomorrow would give you plenty of time to track down something suitable to wear.  After all one couldn't show up to a Stark Party in any old rags.

Greeting the world again on what you thought was the following morning, you were beyond horrified to discover that you had actually slept a whole day away.  Trying to remember now if you had actually gotten out of bed at all, some empty water bottles on your bedside locker and some vague memory of trips to the bathroom comforted you at least with the knowledge that you had left the bed.  But that seemed to be all you did.  Thinking back now on the last activity you could remember accomplishing, throwing yourself into bed after a long and exhausting day at work somehow convinced you now that the invitation you recalled receiving was simply a dream brought about by far too many long days and sleepless nights.  However, rising from the bed and leaving the room, the envelope and its contents waiting on your living room coffee table told you the summons was real.  Tony Stark was causing you problems once again.

Picking it up and now reading through the finer details his holographic presence and your tiredness had previously caused you to overlook, you now confirmed with a deep sigh the last thought you had that night before sleep knocked you out cold ... nothing in your closet would qualify for this event and you would definitely have to go shopping.  Sighing now with the realization that two days notice had disappeared to become the day of the party, you figured you better get a move on.

Calling a taxi then to pick you up in half an hour, you hurried off into the bathroom to shower and dress before heading outside to catch your ride.  Sitting into the taxi then and telling your driver Devon exactly where you wanted to go, you tried to focus on him talking to you about mundane things like the weather or the last football game he watched but the list of various Halloween outfit shops popping up on your phone as you scrolled through Google proved too much of a distraction to really take in much of what was being said.  After all, with the party taking place tonight this shopping trip was the very definition of last minute.  And you despised last minute chores.

Which you guessed explained the headache that was now beginning to form.

At last arriving in the center of the city, you promptly paid and thanked your driver before exiting the taxi and heading off towards the nearest costume shop.  Hoping for a one and done kind of experience, stepping inside the front door at least brought you some comfort when you were greeted by a throng of adults and children milling about through the huge array of colorful costumes stretching as far as the eye could see.  You weren’t the only one it seemed that the spooky season had crept up on.

Walking through the shop now around excited children, harried adults and even more stressed out shop assistants, you made your way to the adult sections and carefully pawed through every single costume without any of them really screaming out ‘pick me.’  Giving up at last when nothing really grabbed your attention, you left the shop and headed to the next one and the next one and the one after that.  Eventually tired out and wondering why you were unable to find a simple costume for a simple Halloween party, you figured a spot of lunch might allow you to clear your head and start over when suddenly a quick glance down a side alley revealed a small shop decked out in pumpkins, spiders and all manner of ghost and ghoulie.

Glancing around now and observing that no one else seemed even remotely aware of the shop’s existence or where you were even looking, you took a few extra seconds to ponder this revelation before swallowing your concerns, placing one foot in front of the other and heading off towards its door.  Placing your hand on the knob then once getting within its reach, you held your breath and pushed forwards.

Stepping inside the first thing that caught your eye wasn’t the smoking cauldrons or the various supernatural creatures displayed throughout but the actual interior of the place itself … it reminded you of a forest.  Decked out with a moss like carpet, the night sky overhead contrasted beautifully with the leaves cascading down the walls in all the glorious colors of fall.  It took your breath away.  In fact you were so mesmerized by the whole scene before you that you actually let out a shocked scream when a hand landed on your shoulder as the owner of the shop made her presence known to you.

“I’m sorry my dear, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she apologized politely as you smiled back tenderly while you tried to reassure her that no harm had been done.  Starting a conversation then regarding how amazing her shop looked and at the same time how empty it was compared to most of those on the main street, she simply smiled and reassured you that she still turned a nice profit through those that were destined to find this place.  Taking no notice of her exact words however as your attention now fell to the lack of costumes on display, you wondered if she could actually read your mind when she walked over to the door, locked it and then turned her attentive gaze back on you before speaking.  “Now dear, how about you follow me to the back room and we’ll see if we can find something to bring out your spooky spirit.”

Glancing at the locked door now as she simply walked past you while motioning for you to follow after her, your mind quickly debated what you had gotten yourself into before the memory of why you were even on this trip reminded you that you were terribly low on options.  The party was fast approaching and all the other shops you had tried had been woefully disappointing.  This one really couldn't be any worse, right?  So silencing your reservations then and following behind her step by step, thirty minutes later had you endlessly thanking her as you finally had a costume that suited you and the occasion perfectly.  She truly had delivered.  Saying your goodbyes then, picking up a few essential items and grabbing a quick bite to eat, you next hailed a taxi to get you back home to begin preparing for the night ahead.

Opening up the door to your apartment and stepping inside, you put away your other purchases before heading into your bedroom and dropping the bag containing your costume onto the bed.  Sinking into the chair in the corner of the room then, you contemplated one more time about not going to this party before you finally chastised yourself for hiding yourself away from your former work colleagues.  Sure Tony’s death had been hard on you, so hard in fact you sought out a new job even as the Avengers now rebuilt the compound at a completely different site and Pepper had offered you a lucrative position as her own personal assistant.  Still it would never be the same.  It couldn’t be.  Tony may have been a colossal pain in the ass after all, but he did make things fun.  And it was that fun you missed most of all.

Taking off your shoes now that your mind was beyond changing, you then reached for your phone, booked a taxi for an hour and a half later and finally headed off towards your en suite to start your preparations.  Stripping off your clothes then as the shower heated up and sent its soothing sounds throughout the room, you now stood beneath its warm spray and washed off all the grime trying on the various costumes had deposited on your skin.  Grabbing a towel then and heading back to your bedroom, you dried off before retrieving the costume and looking it over once more.  It really was impressive.

At last feeling all the excitement of the evening ahead, you slipped on the black and red leather bodysuit along with the knee high boots before standing in front of the full-length mirror just inside your closet door.  Admiring the way the suit hugged your figure while cupping your breasts in a way that honestly had you feeling all kinds of sexy, you had to admit that nothing looked as good as your legs leading down from the bodysuit to nestle snugly within the boots.  As Tony would say you were indeed a looker.

Genuinely smiling now for the first time since receiving the invitation, you next went about securing the high collar with the adjustable straps provided before taking out the accompanying belt and securing it firmly around your waist.  Watching now as the four sheer drapes cascaded down your thighs and ass, the light make-up and fake blood you then applied finally finished off the look splendidly and you had to agree that the shop owner was indeed correct.  This was most definitely your look.  Checking the time on your phone one last time, you then picked up your jacket and the invitation and walked out the door just in time to sit into the waiting taxi and head off to see what adventure lay ahead.

Pulling into the parking area of the new Avengers Compound twenty minutes later and handing over your jacket and invitation at the door, arriving at the entertainment floor confirmed that you had made the right decision despite the fact that for the first time since you had come to work for him Tony would not be here.  In fact, it suddenly hit you now standing in this room that Nat and Steve also had to be added to the list.  It just didn’t seem fair.  Setting aside these depressing thoughts however in favor of living life large just like your former boss was notorious for, you plastered on your best and brightest smile and walking towards the bar, ordered the reddest drink they had in honor of the vampire princess your costume declared you to be.  Sipping on it slowly then as the taste assaulted your senses and whatever alcohol it contained burned your throat, you took a few minutes to look around the floor and study the lay of the land until a shiver traveled down your spine and a voice in the back of your mind told you you were being watched.

But that just had to be paranoia, right?

This was a party you were actually invited to, you were no one in particular and everyone looked to be enjoying themselves way too much to zero in on you.  No, you figured now with the outfit you wore the shiver was simply your body adjusting to the changes in temperature and as for the voice well, that you were going to write off as your imagination when a cursory glance around the room proved not one single person here was looking in your direction.  You were just another body.  Gazing out across the sea of faces more closely now bathed in the eerie glow of lighted pumpkins and multi colored billowing smoke, another sip of your drink to calm your nerves and it actually warmed your heart to see so many people - superheroes and Stark employees alike - just hanging out and enjoying the spooky season in all manner of costume that now made you feel right at home.

At last leaving the safety of the bar and venturing forth to mingle, talk and get a closer look at some of the activities, you not only discovered Thor’s dark talent for telling terrifying stories that appeared to be frightening even grown ass adults, but it actually made you smile even more to find Bucky and Sam thoroughly outdoing each other in an ever increasingly degrading game of Truth or Dare.  They really seemed to be embracing the spirit of the season.  Which you figured was something you should be doing.

Thinking now to yourself however of just how much Tony and Nat especially would have enjoyed the festivities on display, you were just about to join Wanda, Pepper and some of your former colleagues from before you left Stark Industries to work at the Avengers Compound for a game of 7 Minutes In … when a glimpse off to your left revealed Carol, Clint and Bruce in the throes of carving pumpkins and having a heated discussion as to which one of them was doing a better job.  Deciding there and then that this actually looked like far better fun and also using the excuse to get your hands on a knife, you placed your hand on Pepper’s shoulder and gave her a warm smile in greeting before making a beeline for the three Avengers currently trying to decide what exactly Carol was after creating.

Stepping up beside them now in the hopes of not only settling the argument but also just to see what each of them had accomplished, you too had to agree that the pumpkin was not something recognizable on Earth to which Carol now threw her arms around you and thanked you for stating the obvious.  Apparently she had indeed carved out some alien creature none of you had ever even heard of and neither of the guys had actually realized it.  Deciding now that your detective skills merited some type of reward and pointing out, to his dismay, that it made you smarter than the great Doctor Banner, Carol now reached behind you and picked up the nearest pumpkin for you to try out your skills on.

Taking the knife now offered by Clint, you waited until all three of them nodded their heads for you to begin and so you did.  Slicing off the top and scooping out the insides, you then carved slowly and carefully and fifteen minutes later a tea light nestled inside revealed the Kraken from Norse mythology devouring a ship and dragging it down to the depths of the ocean never to be seen again.  Grumbling between themselves that you were hiding talents from them, the three superheroes now admitted defeat and walking away left you thinking of what you wanted to do next.  Deciding that as grand, successful and fun as your first pumpkin carving attempt had been, it was a bit too dark in your opinion despite the season that was in it and so reaching for the biggest pumpkin you could find you made the first cut thinking that this time you wanted to try something simple and cheerful.

But alas it wasn’t meant to be.  Sliding the knife in and drawing it back out, a gust of wind simply loud enough for you to hear emanated from the pumpkin and as the knife plunged back in and created a larger cut, a portal formed before your eyes and sucked you forwards into the unknown.

Rising to your feet now having been unceremoniously dumped out wherever the portal had ended, you took a few steadying breaths before beginning the task of figuring out where you were and how you were going to make it back to the party.  Realizing also in the same breath the mistake it was to have left your phone in your jacket pocket, you now focused instead on where you might be and the revelation shocked you.  You were standing in what appeared to be a darkened toy store.  Massive beyond belief and covered in cobwebs, debris and all the eerie spectacle of the season, your hopes of getting out of here began to soar as you cautiously made your way down the nearest aisle and headed towards the front of the building.  But that hope did not last long.

Being greeted by boarded up windows that let in just enough light for you to see by, this revelation coupled with a nearby phone that proved to be lacking an active dial tone told you all you really needed to know.  The place was utterly abandoned and you were trapped inside.  Panicking now at the situation you found yourself in, you checked and rattled every window and door you could find for any possible way out but no exit appeared, so you now began searching the surrounding area for anything that might help you escape or at the very least alert someone outside that this place was not as abandoned as it appeared.  Failing miserably however as everything you tried chipped away at your sense of preservation, you finally sent your gaze upwards along the height of the shelving and wondered if you could climb them, reach the roofing system and manage to get out that way.

Looking around once more now at the front of the building which offered no escape and the Halloween decorations adorning this place that now looked far more sinister and creepy the longer they stared back at you, you accepted you had nothing left to lose and so placing your foot on the nearest shelving and reaching up over your head you prepared to climb and get a better view of things above you when the sound of someone chanting off to your left caught your attention.  Stopping what you were doing now and focusing more completely on what was being said, you still couldn't distinguish any one word from another but two facts were undisputed.  And they totally freaked you out.  One, you were no longer alone in this place and two, this new voice belonged to that of the male variety.  Which made you even more uneasy.  Taking a moment now to contemplate this new information in the context of what you were currently wearing and the time of year it was, you waited a heartbeat more before finally deciding that seeking assistance to get out of here was worth whatever danger may be waiting for you somewhere in the bowels of this disused toy store.

Dropping back down to the floor and moving forward now without alerting your unknown companion, you made it all the way to the action figure aisle where the light of a stationary flashlight illuminated the silhouette of a familiar figure standing before a life size cardboard cutout of The Black Widow Natasha Romanoff.  Completely forgetting the unusual circumstances now that landed you in this peculiar location, you hurried forwards and called out Steve Rogers name until a wayward glance beyond him stopped you in your tracks.

Something very strange was happening here.

Looking back and forth now between the man that sparked hope within you and the object that halted your movements, seeing what looked like blood dripping down Natasha's effigy made you want to run back the way you had come when another image caught and held your attention.  At the end of the aisle, four or five feet away now from where you and Steve stood, another life size cardboard cutout also stood dripping in the same red substance, but it was still easy to make out.  This one was Tony Stark.  Moving slowly past Steve now without any interference from him to stand before the image of your former boss, you were just about to reach out and wipe the red liquid from his cardboard helmet when a hand suddenly reached out to stop you and made your skin crawl.

"Please don't do that.  Jamie was very clear that their blood should not come in contact with any other living creature," Steve explained and the shadows dancing across his features as you glanced towards him somehow made him far more terrifying than you ever thought possible.

"Who the fuck is Jamie and just what the hell is going on here?" you asked, turning now to face Steve fully while his grip on your wrist and the bloody scene before you frightened you more than you ever willing to utter.  Especially to him.

Visibly flinching a bit at your language, tone or possibly both, Steve easily composed himself however before speaking.  "Oh I'm sorry sweetheart," Steve began as he now moved both of you away from the figure before you and the temptation you still had to touch it.  "I thought after all the time the two of you spent picking out your costume she would at least have given you her name.  Guess she didn't," he now finished as his tongue darted out to lick his lips while his eyes took in the sight of you for the very first time.

Following his eyes down your costume now as some of the pieces began to fall into place, you still didn't know for sure what puzzle they were falling into though and part of you questioned if you really wanted to find out given what you had seen so far.  But it proved to be a very small part however.  Deciding instead after a brief pause that you just had to know what was going on, you turned your full focus back on Steve now and asked the question he failed to answer once again.

"Well if you really must know, Jamie informed me that very little separates the living from the dead on All Hallow's Eve.  So using a spell she provided, Nat and Tony can walk this earth once again."

Completely horrified now by this revelation, all that it implied and his seemingly cavalier attitude to what he was proposing, your head screamed at you to run but your natural curiosity won out again as more words tumbled from your mouth without too much thought for what you were saying or the consequences they might reap.  "What the hell Steve?  Why would you do something like this?  Have you any idea the forces your actions could unleash?"

Locking his eyes with you now as he contemplated whether or not to tell you the truth, it seemed the truth won out in the end as America's sentinel of liberty began to speak once more.  "What can I say sweetheart?  I missed Natasha.  Hell even on some level I also missed Tony.  I just had to find a way to bring them back.  And this is it.  Whatever it takes," he finished with a cold, almost lifeless whisper and you knew now that all hope was lost.  This man before he was no longer the beacon of hope the world held him up to be and the longer his blue eyes roamed over your barely concealed form the more afraid you became of the circumstances that landed you here and the consequences should you be unable to escape.

Frantic now as your mind wandered back to the feeling of someone watching you as you entered the party, you wanted to tell yourself to shut the fuck up when another round of words left your trembling lips.  "It was you?" you stated almost as a question as more pieces of this puzzle made themselves known to you.  "You sent the invitation.  Organized for Jamie to find me.  You were watching me at the party too.  Oh god," you shuddered out suddenly as a final thought revealed itself to you, "you left that cursed pumpkin for me to find.  You wanted me here."

Backing away from him now as you no longer wanted to hear anything he had to say, you finally took off at a run not caring where you were headed, but only made it three aisles over before a heavy body slammed into you and brought you to the ground.  Trying desperately now to fight him off but failing miserably given his power, size and the position you found yourself in, you might have feared for your life as a crazed looking Steve turned you over and brought his hands around your throat if not for the words that settled in your ears as his fingers started to squeeze.  "Rest easy now sweetheart, I'm not done with you yet and there's at least one person both of us know who will be overjoyed to find you here."

Clawing at his hands now as your vision began to blur and his words frightened you more than any revelation so far this night, your fingers eventually fell from his as the cold embrace of darkness finally claimed you and his satisfied smirk was the last concrete image your mind captured.

Regaining consciousness some unknown time later to find Steve with his back turned towards you staring into space, you might have been horrified by the fact that your body suit was all that remained on your frame now if not for the fact that being practically naked was not your worst condition.  Ignoring the super soldier who seemed to have taken leave of his senses, your eyes now took in the makeshift scene all around you and it was worse than the one before he choked you out.  Following the line of your limbs, you quickly discovered that the drapes that earlier fell from your hips now tied you down to what looked and felt like the base of a fourteen foot trampoline.  Which didn't bode well for you.

Determined as a result to remain as quiet as possible so as not to alert your unhinged captor, you pulled your arms and legs towards you and while there was some tiny movement allowed, the fabric didn't even tear.  Which only confirmed that you weren't going anywhere anytime soon.  Meaning you were now in serious trouble.  Tired now from all the exertion this information and running from Steve had cost you, you relaxed back down on your makeshift prison and figured it was maybe time to try and reason with the man responsible for your current situation since you had nothing else to lose.  “Hey Asshole,” you began as a means of grabbing Steve’s attention though you knew once again that your attitude had not been well received by the noticeable tension that seemed to settle in his shoulders, “you maybe want to tell me why exactly I’m tied down here.  Surely you’re not going to go so far as to sacrifice me?” you now asked and you hated yourself for the tremor you knew he must be hearing in your voice.

“Sacrifice you?” Steve now asked as he turned around to face you before jumping up onto the trampoline and kneeling down between your open legs.  “Oh sweetheart don’t be silly.  Jamie doesn’t practice that type of magic, but you will have to contribute … something,” he now answered and as his fingers began gliding over your bound figure you suspected that his next answer was not going to be something that was going to excite you.  Even if you hadn't been tied down.

Listening intently now as the terror began to build, Steve informed you that come midnight Tony and Nat would step through their blood soaked cardboard cutouts and rejoin the world they gave their lives for.  All that then had to be done to seal the resurrection spell was for the two of them … well in this case the three of them, to spend the next twenty-four hours ravishing each other's bodies and yours so Jamie could harness the energy of said couplings for whatever purpose she required.  Finishing off this revelation then by leaning forwards and placing a kiss against each covered breast, you wished you could headbutt him in retaliation but the other questions swirling in your brain took priority.

Plus there was the fact that your current position didn’t allow you the strength to inflict that type of damage on him.  Still, telling Steve in no uncertain terms that you would tell Tony and Natasha what he had planned, you also told him that he had to be even more deranged if he thought the flimsy drapes tying you down would remain strong enough to hold you for that length of time.  His answer to this remark however only served to  shock you even more.

Glancing at his watch now before releasing a laugh that sent a chill through your very soul, Steve now seemed to take perverse pleasure in settling his lips against your ear before explaining the lengths he and Jamie had gone through to secure your participation.  “Oh sweetheart, your little shopping trip to Jamie’s did more than enable you to purchase this delicious covering.  The drapes while looking flimsy to you are actually enchanted to hold you forever until one of us releases you.  And as for telling tales to Tony and Nat," he continued with a tsk tsk sound, “well … try to reveal anything too detailed about your participation or Jamie’s involvement and all anyone will hear is you moaning, pleading and begging to be fucked harder.”

Rising off the trampoline now and heading back to the spot he had previously been watching from, your mind began to swirl with everything he had just told you but as a whooshing sound now broke the silence settling around you and Steve again, this new development now told you that the time you had left with full control over your voice was just about up.  So with very little choice left available to you, you swallowed your fear and asked Steve the one remaining question that haunted you the most now.  “Steve, what happens to me after twenty-four hours?  Will I actually survive what’s coming?”

Torn between answering you now and giving his full attention to his two friends whose cutouts you just now noticed standing a few feet away, a quick glance at the shimmering effigies and his watch told Steve he still had some time.  It couldn't hurt then to give you another piece of information, right?  Sighing again at your persistence before turning back to face you, he simply told you now that you would indeed survive but all four of you would then be bound together forever and beyond.  Informing you also that the question and answer portion of the evening was now officially over, you would have protested this final statement vigorously if not for the skeletal hands you now watched emerging from the cutouts before you.

This shit couldn't be real.

Following your frightened gaze and high pitched screams now to also witness what you were seeing, Tony and Nat emerging through the blood soaked veils should have been a welcome sight except for what actually appeared in their stead.  Disheveled skin, protruding bone and wispy strands of hair, you now felt bone chilling fear for the first time in your life at the prospect of having these creatures anywhere near you.  But Steve it seemed didn't care.  Moving forward now one step at a time for every one they took in your direction, you ignored Steve’s actions and his previous comments and pulled harder against your bindings until a new phenomenon drew your attention to what was taking place before your eyes.

Craning your neck now around Steve’s considerable bulk, your eyes widened in utter disbelief as you watched the desiccated corpses of two people you thought you’d never see again somehow absorb the blood that previously covered their cutouts and complete their transformations.  Reaching their friend and former teammate then, Tony and Nat embraced Steve in all their former glory and as the three friends focused on their own reunion you now wondered how long you had until their attention fell on you and whether this transformation was real or simply an illusion.

Fearful now that the answer to this unvoiced question would end up being the latter, yet not liking the former prospect any more either, you foolishly tried once more to free yourself from your confinement until Tony separated from his friends and locked his gaze on you.  “Well now darling, aren’t you a sight these once dead eyes thought they’d never see again.  Capsicle you really have outdone yourself,” Tony now added as he walked away from Nat and Steve and closed the distance between you.  Feeling your heart now pounding in your chest the closer he got to you as Natasha helped Steve strip out of his clothes, Tony at last reaching the trampoline and placing his hand upon your ankle told you one thing at least.  This was no illusion.

Completely naked, warm to the touch and looking every bit as human as he had in life, the smirk you never admitted to loving graced his newly restored features once again as he watched your eyes travel down his impressive physique to settle on his equally impressive package.  It was better than your dreams.  Calling for the others now to hurry up, Steve and Nat standing beside him equally naked now left you feeling positively fully clothed in the bodysuit that moments earlier had felt like nothing more than a glorified swimsuit.  But you knew it wouldn’t last.  Watching now as their hungry eyes raked over your bound and covered form, all three heroes nodded silently to each other now before Tony joined you on the trampoline and ripped the bodysuit from you.  Begging now for them not to follow through with what they had planned, it was Natasha that set out to put your mind at ease.

“Princess please, look at you.  Look at us,” she continued as Steve and Tony reached out and helped her up on the trampoline.  Dipping ever so slightly now from the combined weight of all four of you as Tony remained between your legs while Steve and Nat rested on either side of you, the redhead licking a stripe along your neck made you cringe in disgust until she started speaking once again.  Then you wanted to vomit.  “Do you see Tony’s package princess?  Tell me you haven’t fantasized about it buried deep within your flower.  And what about Steve?” she asked, reaching across your body then to place her hand around his glorious erection.  “Imagine this rod splitting you apart as you beg the guys to fuck your brains out.  Not that we'll be able to hear you much with my pussy dripping all over that sweet and talented mouth of yours,” Natasha finished with a laugh before her lips crashed against yours and her tongue invaded your mouth and tickled your senses.

Drawing back to let both of you breathe then while letting go of Steve’s equipment, the three heroes exchanged looks once again as Tony now made room for Natasha between your legs while Steve moved closer to fondle your breasts and replace Nat’s lips with his own.  Fighting off Steve’s advances now as his tongue darted out against your lips but failed to breach your oral cavity, he finally managed to penetrate your defenses however when Natasha bent down between your legs and buried her head against your intimate area.  Moaning out then as her lips descended over your folds and began to lick and nibble an area no man or woman had ever touched orally before, Steve took full advantage of your slippage and gliding his tongue over yours began to seek out any participation from you on his end.

Squirming now to get away from Steve’s skillful hands and Natasha’s talented fingers and mouth, you actually lost control of your senses when Tony attached his mouth to Nat’s private area and sent her moans reverberating through your pussy in a sensation overload you had never experienced before.  One that made your head spin.  Grabbing a hold of the drapes now as you and Natasha were pulled apart, you couldn’t tell where you ended and Nat started and at this moment you couldn’t really care.  Feeling your orgasm growing stronger and stronger as Natasha's tongue and fingers continued to assault your core, Steve now suckling on your breasts while Tony worked Nat towards her own release confirmed all that they had told you ... it was going to be a fourway.

But it didn't end there.  Hearing a female voice chanting in the same language you had heard earlier, a cracking sound joined the slapping, slurping and moaning sounds coming from all four of you and you figured now that this was the energy harnessing part of the spell that Steve had previously mentioned.  At least you might have accepted that explanation had your mind been able to focus completely on anything other than the sensations currently pulsing throughout your system.  Biting along your chest now so that your mouth was free to give a voice to their efforts, moaning out now just like Steve had promised as their manipulations of your body continued to push you higher and higher, you cried out your release and created a vice-like grip on Natasha's fingers as a powerful orgasm ripped through you and threatened to knock you out once again.  But it wasn't going to happen.  Continuing to fuck you through your high as Steve now egged her on and Tony increased his eating out of the redhead sandwiched between the two of you, one more powerful, never-ending spasm starting in your head and thrumming downward towards your toes and you felt the dam burst.  Literally.  Squirting out all over Natasha's face as she in turn released into Tony's waiting mouth, all three heroes now smiled in satisfaction at the moisture leaking from you and dripping down Natasha's face.

Laying atop you now as Steve moved forwards to taste her release on Tony's face, you would have chosen that moment to close your eyes to the scene before you if the redhead didn't have other plans.  Moving her body along yours as the guys now watched in rapt attention, her bringing her lips against yours should have made you thoroughly repulsed but instead it turned you on.  And the words she uttered next just added to your overall confusion and humiliation.  "You taste wonderful princess, don't you think?  I'm glad I got to sample you first," she finished with a wink as she then flopped down beside you and began discussing with the guys how all of you should proceed from here.  Deciding it was only fair that Steve should get to taste your nectar next, Tony and Nat now snuggled up on either side of you as the super soldier made himself comfortable between your legs.  Feasting on your pussy then as Nat and Tony showered your upper body with nips and kisses, you actually began to wonder if Steve required any air to breathe at all as your body responded to his stimulations and his face seemed determined to breach your entrance.

Begging him to stop eventually as you couldn't take much more, an imperceptible look towards his teammates had Tony holding down your hips while Nat placed her lips over yours to easily silence all of your objections.  No longer able to do anything now but feel each and every sensation swirling through you, your body finally succumbed to Steve's unrelenting torture as wave after wave of unending pleasure crashed throughout your body and you at last surrendered to the multiple orgasms competing within you for the title of strongest one.  Pleased with himself now at the effect he had on you as he collapsed exhausted between your legs, you hoped now they would at least let you rest a bit before starting up again.  But this was not to be part of their plan it seemed.

Having followed the rule of ladies first and then rewarding Steve for all that he had accomplished so far this night, Tony had waited patiently to taste your honeypot. But it seemed his patience now had run out. Returning to their starting positions as Natasha whispered in your ear how she had never tasted anything quite as exquisite as your pussy, Steve devoring your mouth once again did nothing to distract you from Tony's mouth attaching itself to your dripping folds. Acknowledging now for the first time that Steve and Nat were clean faced, the feel of Tony's goatee against your oversensitive lips was an altogether different experience. As were his skills. Realizing now that the previous two heroes had pulled you apart without ever actually manipulating your clit, Tony's nibbling on your bundle of nerves along with the tingling burn created by his facial hair added a whole new sensation to the pulses taking place within your core and as every muscle in your body began to tighten you knew you were in trouble. This was shaping up to be your most powerful release yet.

Successfully pulling back from Steve's mouth now as the pressure began to build throughout your system, you fought as best you could against Tony's hold even though it was an action that ultimately proved futile. Adding his fingers now which then became a fist as his tongue, lips and goatee all continued to aggravate the nerve endings his friends had previously sparked to life, you this time welcomed the darkness that surrounded you as fireworks burst behind your eyes and what felt like electricity crackled everywhere from your head to your toes. You had never in your life come so hard and part of you hoped you never would again. It was beyond draining.

Releasing the drapes then that tied your now limp body to the trampoline, the heroes began to use you in earnest now as each of them took turns to become acquainted with all of your holes and each others.  Twisting and turning you now in ever more creative ways as each of them tried it seemed to outdo the other, all you could do now was try not to pass out again as one orgasm ended and another one began.  In fact, so coordinated and determined were they in their dominance of you that at one stage in this bizarre ritual with Nat sitting on your face while kissing Steve beneath you and Tony somehow also sampling Natasha's nether regions, both of the guys' cocks buried in your pussy at the same time had all four of you joined as one.  And it wasn’t the only time this happened.  Another time, Steve buried in Nat's ass and Tony buried in yours while you and Nat pleasured each other seemed to you like something out of a pornographic movie. But this too had actually been real.

Losing track of all the times each of you had come now as well as trying not to think about the consequences of all the loads the guys had deposited within your core, you suspected this part of your ordeal was coming to an end however as the crackling energy you vaguely remembered noticing earlier coalesced into a shimmering barrier surrounding the trampoline as Steve and Tony both released one final burst of cum each against your shuddering walls.  Exhausted now to the point of being nearly catatonic, yet also eternally grateful that you had indeed survived, your body covered and overflowing with cum could not shut off the new round of questions forming in your brain as Steve and Tony nestled against your sides while Natasha lay down between your legs and rested her head upon your stomach.

Breaking the silence to ask what their plans were now that the twenty-four hour sex marathon had secured their resurrection, no amount of thinking or deducing on your part could have prepared you for the answer Tony furnished you with however.  Informing you that a house had been secured in your name somewhere in time, all of you would live comfortably on a secret fortune that Steve had amassed while populating this new time period with the next generation of earth’s heroes.

Strenuously protesting this idea while simultaneously groaning at the thought of all the sex that would be required to accomplish this goal, Tony and Nat peppering your skin with kisses did very little to distract you however as Steve reached under the trampoline and retrieved a bag containing four time travel suits with corresponding GPS wrist straps.  Slowly backing away from their location now as you all dismounted the trampoline, arguing with Tony that this whole idea of starting over was beyond absurd as the three heroes proceeded to suit up, a stern look from Steve as he moved to block your escape attempt told you no more insolence on your part would be tolerated going forward.  Informing you then as he grabbed a firm hold on your shoulders that you could either get dressed on your own or be dressed, it was Nat now who tried to smooth things over by appealing to your gentler side.

"Princess, forget what happened these past twenty-four hours and listen to your heart.  Now tell us you don't want this.  This world believes us to be dead so we can't stay here, but elsewhere together a life with Tony, Steve and I awaits where you will be treasured beyond your wildest dreams," she finished and as all three heroes now stood awaiting your answer you simply countered by asking where the exit out of here was and would they even let you reach it.

Smiling at you now as Steve flat out told you you weren't going anywhere but with them, suiting up and following on as he led all three of you farther into the store and back to the storage area, all four of you then stood on the waiting quantum generator, synced up your GPS wrist straps and shot through the time portal to emerge in a wooded landscape with an impressive cabin decked out in all the splendor of the spooky season.  Resigning yourself now to the future they promised as Steve confiscated all four wrist straps, a change of clothes inside the house had you wondering how long you could survive this nightmare before you lost your mind and whether or not your new reality came with heroes that could offer some assistance.

Tagging: @jtargaryen18

[bonkers-4-hatter]

Lotor X !Plus Sized Female Reader - Fall Traditions

"It's tradition Lotor! I know you don't want to be around people, but please, go for me?" I give him a pout, jutting out my bottom lip as I put on my 'puppy dog eyes' which always make him cave.

He let out a scoff, but sighed and deflated in defeat. "Okay Starlight, I'll go to this...corn maze as you say."

I hug him as he slides his arms around my plump form. "You know I'd do anything for you starlight." He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. Only alone would he show me this kind of affection, and I understand, with a smile I cherish the affection he shows that's only reserved for me.

I was giddy as we pulled up to the corn maze. Growing up, coming to these places during the fall were fun and filled with laughter and frights especially if we went through the maze at night.

Lotor takes my hand as we walk to the ticket booth. I smile as I see families with small children as they laugh and run around picking the perfect pumpkin. "You said this was a tradition starlight? Do all humans participate in it?" He gave my hand a light squeeze as we walk through the rows of pumpkins.

"Not all humans participate. It's a tradition for me and a lot of humans because we used to do this when we were younger. My mom always brought me and my siblings here every fall. We'd pick pumpkins, go on the hay ride and through the corn maze and have applie cider, it was so magical for me as a kid...and one of the rare happy memories I have...I know to you it's silly..but-."

My words were cut off as he gave me a soft, chaste kiss. My round cheeks flushed as he pulled back before I could fully process it. "It's not silly if it holds special memories for you (Y/N)...nothing that's special to you is silly my starlight, never forget that. Now let's go make more of those special memories."

We look through the pumpkin patch first, my soft, round face scruched in concentration as I tried to look for the perfect pumpkin. Lotor helped, picking the biggest pumpkin he could carry before putting it in our wagon. Picking a few other pumpkins and hay stacks we bring them to the car.

"I can't wait to carve the pumpkins! We'll put them on our porch for the trick or treaters!" I was excited as I spoke, my soft arms and hands waving in the air as I spoke with them. Lotor sported a soft smile as he watched me talk animately.

Getting hot apple cider, we enjoyed the cute hayride that showed us the farm and along the way it had cute cardboard cut outs of Halloween themed characters or scenes and even giant spider made out of black plastic pipes and hay bails. Lotor's arms wrapped around my pudgy waist, his fingers skimming my sweater clad skin.

"This drink...can we make it at home?" He was on his third cup of hot apple cider. I laughed and nodded. "I'll order some, not sure how good it'll be if I try to make it, I'm sure they sell some here too." His eyes lit up at the notion making me smile. He was enjoying himself...which would be a first for an Earth activity.

As the sun started to go down, I decided it was the perfect time to do the corn maze. Once inside, the cute decorations and cardboard cut outs were back, with festive lights scttered around. "So...you pay to be put in a maze? Starlight, what fun is that?" He asked looking down both sides of the fork in the cornstalks.

I pull him down one path enjoying the atmosphere. "Because it's fun! It's cute and it's getting dark so it'll be a bit spooky!" Hitting a dead end, I pout. "Fun you say?" He smirks before taking the lead and tugging me back the way we came.

A good chunk of time passed and we're still in the corn maze, the moon high in the sky. The sound of laughing children and soft music coming from the farm, but I was straddled on Lotor's lap as he sat on a haybail in the corner of another dead end of the corn maze.

Our lips were slated against one another in a dance. His hands gripped my soft round hips anchoring me down on his lap. Pulling back, our hot breaths lingered together. "You were right (Y/N), these corn mazes are fun." He nipped and sucked along the curve of my neck going down to my collarbone.

The sound of people nearby caused Lotor to stand with my plump, soft body in his arms before he gently sat me down. Giving me one last hungry kiss, he grabbed my hand and headed back to the maze to finally get out. "Let's find our way out, we'll have more fun at home my starlight."

Biting my lip, I flushed at his words as we both whispered and laughed together as we navigated the corn maze hand in hand.

[arcsimper5]

The Hunt

On my Halloween vampire kick still!

Vampire! Fives x Human F!Reader Reader F but not described. Rating: Explicit (R) Minors DNI Warnings: Mentions of abuse, vampirism, blood drinking, wall s3x, alleyway s3x, p in v, unprotected sex

Summary: There was an unspoken rule amongst the vampires of Coruscant; don’t kill unless provoked, leave no evidence, don’t feed more than once on the same person.

As his eyes focused on a familiar outline in the crowd, arousal shooting through his body, Fives knew he was going to break that last rule tonight. Again.

@amorfista I'm back on my vampire BS lol

79’s was heaving, as it ever was, though Fives couldn’t help but smirk at the array of fancy dress on the patrons. 

Hallows’eve had always been a spectacle he’d watched from the outside, but never participated in, until now. Being a vampire, it almost felt like a festival honouring him, many a skimpy clad dancer with fake, painted blood spots on their neck, mimicking them being a victim of a bite.

His stomach fluttered and cock twitched at the mere thought of making those marks real.

Letting out a soft growl, dark yellow eyes flicked across the crowd.

There were so many options tonight, it was on the verge of overwhelming. Usual nights were quiet when he would hunt, pickings often slim, especially since the end of the war.

Peace bred much fewer habit drinkers than wartime, he mused.

But he always got his fill, taking enough to satisfy but not to kill. There was no point in arousing suspicion, and if enough patrons of a certain venue were killed, it inevitably closed. There was an unspoken rule amongst the vampires of Coruscant; don’t kill unless provoked, leave no evidence, don’t feed more than once on the same person.

As his eyes focused on a familiar outline in the crowd, arousal shooting through his body, Fives knew he was going to break that last rule tonight. Again.

She looked ethereal under the strobing lights of the dancefloor, hair swaying with the movement of her hips, body gyrating to the music. Wearing only a thigh length, navy blue dress adorned with sequins on the hem, she literally sparkled, body shivering when she felt his gaze settle on her.

As soon as her attention turned to him, a bolt of arousal went straight to Five’s cock, his flesh hardening instantly. His tongue darted out to lick his lips automatically, her face flushing ever so slightly at the action as she reached out her hand and beckoned him over.

He couldn’t deny her. He never could.

Sauntering through the crowd, their eyes remained locked on each others, even as bodies swayed and rocked around them, sweat and alcohol tainting the scent of the air. It was a magnetic pull, as if he was drawn to her, the sweet, addictive memory of the taste of her already on his tongue.

By the time he reached her, he was rock hard and wanting, slipping into place behind her and joining in with her writhing dance, growling low in his throat at the way she pressed back against him.

“I thought I’d missed you tonight,” she called over the music, her backside grinding against his hips as his mouth found her shoulder. He inhaled deeply, relishing her scent. “You’ve not been around for a few days.”

It was true, Fives had been haunting some of his other hunting grounds and meeting with vode, but the allure of her, the memory of how sweet her essence was, had him coming back more often than he should.

The fact she’d noticed sent another thrill through his body, but this hit differently, warming his cold heart in a way he didn’t want to dwell on too much.

“You miss me, mesh’la?” he teased lightly, dragging his lips across the soft skin of her neck. He could feel her racing pulse, hear her ragged breathing, practically taste her arousal as she spun around in his arms, facing him.

“What if I did?” she challenged, gaze locked on Five’s, his smirk matching hers.

“You like playing dangerous games, sweet one,” he hummed, looking her over. She was utterly gorgeous, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit, it was one of the first things he’d noticed about her first.

That first night was still etched in his memory, how she’d lured him in with her siren song of a dance, grinding on him until it got too much and she dragged him towards the bathrooms. 

It was only as he fingered her from behind, his hand pushed into her underwear in front of the mirror, her face twisted in pleasure and his reflection phasing in and out of reality that she learned of his true nature, practically begging him to drink from her, her core clenching at the very thought of it.

He’d complied easily, lost to pleasure as he drank his fill and she sank to her knees, drinking everything he had to offer in her own way.

It had been a pleasurable night, one that he’d kept in his memory for a week after, sated enough that he didn’t have to hunt. And when he returned, she was there. Waiting. Wanting. Sidling up to him at the bar and pressing her wrist to his mouth, urging him to sink his teeth into her.

He hadn’t even had time to order a drink before he had her pressed up against the wall, feasting on her pussy before he drank from her again, fingering her to a sweet release as he lapped at the wound, closing it tenderly.

Oddly, they’d talked afterwards, not for long, but enough to exchange names and dates they intended to visit next. And it sparked something in Fives. This was dangerous, he knew. She could be anyone; a hunter, the bait of a hunter, or just a hot girl with a very specific kink.

Whatever the truth was, he was wary to begin with. But weeks turned into months, and now it had been almost a full year since their first encounter, his heart fluttering at the thought.

They’d still not had sex, his nature still bound by honour. He wouldn’t take advantage of her, everything had to be initiated in a way she was comfortable with. But tonight, it felt different. More primal.

His suspicions were confirmed when she leaned in closer, tongue darting over the shell of his ear, sending a shiver through his body.

“I was actually hoping to ask you for something, Fives. For our upcoming anniversary.”

Her words were teasing but her face was set a little too serious, Five’s stomach twisting as the music slowed a little, the rhythm more sensual, bodies pressed close together.

“And what would that be, mesh’la?” he asked against her skin, lips moving in to caress her neck once more. 

A beat of silence. Then…

“I… I want you to turn me. I want you to fuck me and let me turn, Fives. I want to… I want to be with you.”

Fives jerked back as if stung, eyes wide.

He had expected the request for sex, sure, it was something that had been on his mind as well, but the latter half of her request sent him reeling.

“I… I can’t!” he half choked, stumbling back a few steps. Her face was a picture of disappointment and hurt, uncertainty weaved through every movement it made. “You… you can’t just ask that of me.”

“Why not?” she snapped, suddenly angry, the rage rising up to replace the sharpness of her hurt. 

Fives looked around, aware other patrons had stopped dancing to look at them, listening in on their conversation. 

In a movement that brokered no arguments, he reached forward and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards one of the exits from 79’s, out onto the cold, busy streets of Corsucant. 

To her credit, she did not protest, allowing herself to be led, trusting Five’s actions.

The very thought of that trust made him dizzy. How could she, this delicate, beautiful, thoughtful woman want to be with him? He was a vampire, but all accounts, a monster.

“You don’t want it,” he breathed as they finally made it into a secluded alley, away from prying eyes. She faced him, eyes searching his face with a frown, as if trying to decipher something. “It’s… it’s not what you think it is.”

“Then tell me,” she urged him, leaning back against the wall behind her, earnesty in her voice. “Tell me what it’s really like, and I can decide.”

Fives considered her words for a moment, replying with a scowl of his own.

“I’ll tell you,” he murmured slowly, “if you tell me why you asked me to drink you the second you found out I was a vampire.”

That stopped her in her tracks, her jaw clenching as she glared at Fives, finally huffing and turning her head away, relenting.

“Because I thought you were going to kill me.”

The silence between them was broken only by the omnipresent buzz of the living city around them, Five’s eyes going wide at her admission.

Reaching a hand up to her face, he traced her jaw tenderly, pulling just enough to make her turn to face him. He wished nothing more than to kiss her tears away, his arms shaking with the effort of giving her space.

“I… I was in a bad relationship,” she continued after a moment, voice thick with emotion, “and I’d gone out to… to forget. I knew, as soon as I got back, he’d… well… He’d hurt me,” she laughed bitterly, Fives frown darkening.

If he’d known, had any idea, he would have gone back with her that night and kept her safe.

“I… I’m sorry,” he offered uselessly, chest constricting when she looked away again, shaking her head.

“I thought you would drink me dry and leave me there,” she swallowed, tears spilling down her cheeks as she met Five’s gaze again, “and it would all be over. No more pain, no more humiliation, no more suffering. Only… you didn’t. You were gentle, even when you fed. You treated me like… like a person. Like I was worth something. So… I came back.”

Her explanation left Fives reeling, his entire focus on her. Of all of the things he thought he might hear from her tonight, this was not even remotely close to his guesses.

“Cyare,” he breathed, his other hand now travelling to her face, both moving to bring her in for a tender kiss. She whimpered against his lips, her own hands grabbing at his waist, pulling him flush to her.

Their kiss was different this time, the tang of her tears mixing with saliva as their tongues danced in unison, Five’s hands pulling hers above her head, pinning her against the wall. One leg slipped between her thighs, pressing his knee against her.

The whimper she released into his mouth was divine, swallowed down by him as she rocked herself against his thigh, seeking friction.

Finally breaking the kiss, Fives pulled back with lust blown eyes, his fangs bared now as he panted for breath.

“There’s no going back from this,” he warned her, deathly serious as she gazed up at him, completely vulnerable. “True star sunlight will kill you, you’ll need to feed like I do, and you could live for centuries. You’ll watch everything you know and love crumble to dust around you, and there’ll be nothing you can do to stop it.”

“The only thing I’ve ever cared for is you,” she gasped out, arching her neck, giving Fives a perfect view of her pulse point. “I have no family, my job is dead-end. I’ve been working just to afford to come to meet you. There’s nothing left for me. Only you.”

Fives let out a guttural groan, fighting the urge to simply sink his teeth into her there and then.

“Mesh’la,” he chastised her gently, “I need to be sure. If I turn you, you’re bound to me. We’ll be bonded. I can only ever turn one person, you have to be sure. I couldn’t live with you hating me for eternity.”

Her eyes widened at his admission, fingers clenching against his hand where he still held them above her head, his palm dwarfing her slender wrists.

“I want you, Fives,” she managed, almost choking on his name as his other hand trailed down her breasts, teasing at her nipples, “I’ve wanted this since the moment we met. I need you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

That was all the encouragement Fives needed, a shiver of arousal pulsing through his body.

“Forever is a long time, cyare.”

She could only gasp as he shifted his leg away and unbuckled his belt with ease, black jeans pulled down just enough to expose his thick, leaking cock.

“Good,” she breathed, letting out a whimpering moan as his fingers slipped up her thigh, dragging one leg over his hip before moving to her core, gently tugging her panties to one side and lining the head of his cock up to her entrance.

“Last chance,” he offered, eyes locked on hers for what felt like an eternity. She looked utterly debauched already, pupils blown wide with lust, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

“Make me yours.”

They both moaned in unison as Fives slid inside her, the delicious friction of his cock against her insides bringing a new level of pleasure to her, one she’d never felt before. He was thicker than anyone she’d ever had before, her walls fluttering around him as he bottomed out, wrapping his free hand into her hair, tugging her head to the side.

The absolute euphoria that spread through every cell of her body when he sank his fangs into her, piercing the vein in her neck and letting her very life flow against his tongue was like nothing she could ever have described.

The intensity of a lightning strike, the pleasure of a well known lover, the force of a tsunami, it was overwhelming in the most primal way.

“F-Fives, oh, m-maker,” she managed, chest drawing in desperate, shuddering breaths. His lips sealed around the bite, sucking deeply as he fucked up into her, his other hand releasing hers above her head to grab at her waist, lifting her up against him.

She wrapped her legs around his waist without hesitation, her own hands raking down his back as he drank from her, desperate for every last drop.

Her head span, desire and pleasure mixing together to make everything hazy and unimportant. She could feel her heart slowing, the chill of the night seeping into her as Fives continued to fuck her deeply, moaning into her neck as he rolled his hips, relishing in the way she clenched around him.

Finally, as the world began to fade for her, Fives licked at her neck, lathing his tongue over the wound, and she found his wrist pressed against her mouth, the sweet, metallic tang of his blood filling her senses, his essence dribbling over her lips.

“Drink, my love,” he urged her as he bucked against her, drawing more moans from those beautiful lips, “have me. Become mine.”

He didn’t need to ask her again. Her mouth latched onto his wrist, sucking greedily at the wound on his wrist, laking all he had to offer her. Fresh pleasure rushed through Five’s body, his essence mixing with hers, the exchange of life, the awakening of a new part of her.

She felt it too, the absolute bliss, her body bucking and writhing against his, orgasm after orgasm coursing through her as she drank, her body changing, cooling, growing in strength.

Fives pulled his wrist away as he spilled inside her, caught off guard by the crest of his pleasure. Crashing their mouths together, they drank in the taste of each other, Five’s seed coating her insides, held in as he rocked them through the afterglow.

Caught once more by the intensity of it all, she let out a whimper against his lips, almost collapsing into his arms as exhaustion took over, a feeling he remembered all too well from his own turning.

“Easy, cyare,” he cooed, wincing in sympathy as he withdrew from her, hands steady on her waist, supporting her, “you’re going to feel weak for a while.”

“F-Fives, I, I l-love you,” she breathed, oblivious to the way his eyes flashed in delight, yellow orbs shining in the darkness.

“And I love you, mesh’la. I’m going to take you home, to our home, now. We will rest and wake together, and you can feed again. Then, I will show you the world through your new eyes.”

“P-Please, F-Fives. Thank, thank you. You’re all I, all I want.”

Fives couldn’t fight the soppy grin that lilted his lips as he quickly redressed himself and picked her up bridal style, his touch tender and comforting.

“You have me, cyare. Forever.”

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Because I Liked a Boy [Part Two]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauders Era]

Pairing: James Potter x Regulus Black, James Potter x Lily Evans,

Characters: James Potter, Regulus Black, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Lily Evans, Barty Crouch Jr, Evan Rosier, Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, Peter Pettigrew, Fleamont Potter, Euphemia Potter,

Word Count: 1845

Rating: Teen

Summary: Red and green everywhere but I'm so blue.

Tags/ Warnings: Hogwarts, Halloween Challenge, Writing Challenge, Song Fic, Marauders Era, Period Typical Attitudes, Coming Out, Abusive Households, Kisses, Angst, Fluff, Regulus is underage, Wedding, Engagements, Lost Love, Christmas

Notes: This is all part of one fic but the song inspo changes per chapter.

Halloween Challenge 2024 // Song Inspo

Part One // Part Two// Part Three

There was nothing like Hogwarts at Christmas. The way the snow dusted the grounds, making everything from the turrets to the greenhouses a radiant shade of white. Or the way the castle was decorated throughout, mountainous deep green trees in every corner decorated with red and gold that wound through the corridors on garlands or decorations. And yet none of it was enough to cheer Regulus up. He wasn’t a Scrooge per se but this Christmas he had absolutely no inclination to join in with the spirit.

In fact he hadn't had much inclination to do much of anything since he’d returned after his disastrous summer, the summer in which his heart had been ripped from his chest and shredded. If being abandoned had not been hard enough a first heartbreak hadn't done anything to stem his sorrow and so he’d arrived back at Hogwarts a downtrodden soul. It had not helped that he was seemingly the talk of the school. Of course people didn’t know about James, no one knew about that, but gossip about the Black’s losing not one but two heirs had rippled through the pureblood community like wildfire and so he’d spent the last few months subject to curious stares and furtive whispers that had only just started to peter out.

And even that was due to the fact he was one of the only people left in the castle over the holidays. Of course he had been invited to spend it with Sirius but Regulus hadn't wanted to risk crossing over into unwanted territory and had politely declined, lying to his brother by insisting that his friends were staying in the castle and he was happy to stay behind. Instead he’d spent Christmas on his own save for the dinner he was expected to attend with the staff and other remaining students. It hadn't been fun and he’d spent most of his time in his own head but it was better than the alternative.

And since yesterday he had not been totally alone. As soon as Christmas was over Barty, keen to escape the withering criticism of his father, had returned to Hogwarts providing a welcomed distraction for Regulus who had to admit was starting to miss some human contact. Granted Barty wasn’t much of a conversationalist at breakfast given his normal rising time was well afternoon but just having someone next to him, someone who was far more likely to respond to a lingering glance from another student with a ‘and what are you looking at?’ rather than a withering glare, was nice.

But fortunately there was no need for him to be on guard dog duty as when they arrived downstairs the morning after he’d returned to school as they were the first ones to breakfast. Regulus moved to sit down as Barty took a seat opposite him, immediately propping himself up with his elbow as his eyes closed even though an array of food had appeared before them. Regulus grabbed himself a couple of pieces of toast and then a further two, buttering them for the pair before placing each of them on separate plates as he tucked in.

‘Thanks,’ Barty yawned, moving the golden piece of toast to his mouth though he failed to open his eyes.

‘You’re welcome,’ Regulus said, nibbling at his own toast though he wasn’t really interested in eating. He was waiting for the post, a quick check of his watch told him it was due any minute, and he was expecting a letter from Sirius, a rundown of his holiday season, something that he wanted to hear about even though gorging on the details would no doubt make him feel sick.

Instead what landed was much worse. Barty’s owl arrived first decanting a rolled-up copy of the prophet and no post. Barty threw a knut into the bird's coin pouch, allowing it to fly off as he unfurled the paper and read the headlines. Yet he only made it a couple of pages before he stopped and rolled his eyes, muttering, ‘typical,’ before he tossed the paper down no longer interested. Regulus picked it up and saw it was yet another article about some law his father had been trying to enact, his words splayed across the article as he talked about morality and justice. If anything Regulus could see what the man was trying to achieve but knowing Barty’s default position was, like his brothers’, to see every action of his parents as something to be disdained he thought better of saying anything. Instead he allowed the boy to go back to eating his toast in a zombie-fied state, choosing himself to leaf through the paper in its entirety. Only as he got to the end, the announcements column, he found his heart stopped still in his chest, its beating ceasing as he found a pair of radiant hazel eyes staring back at him on the page.

James.

He hadn't seen him in months and yet he still looked as handsome as ever though his hair had been swept back, forced down into some sort of order which seemed unnatural to Regulus. But he could see why. He was standing next to Lily, the pair of them beaming large happy smiles as the flash of the camera glinted off a gargantuan ring on her left hand.

An engagement announcement.

Regulus felt bile rise in his stomach but it didn't stop him from reading the caption below.

Fleamont and Euphemia Potter are delighted to announce the recent engagement of their only son James Potter to Lily Evans. James, a recent graduate of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry and a junior auror, and his fiancée, fellow graduate and newest member of the St Mungo’s Healer Programme, are expected to wed in the late spring with invitations due to be sent out in the New Year.

Married. James was getting married.

‘You alright?’ Barty asked, his brows knitted together as he munched another piece of toast whilst watching Regulus closely, no doubt clocking the ashen colour his face had turned.

‘Fine,’ Regulus said, though as his own owl swooped in, dropped a neatly addressed letter in front of him and took off again he found himself adding, ‘actually I think I’m going to go to the library.’

‘What?’ Barty asked with confusion, ‘you’ve barely eaten besides its well early.’

‘I’ve got stuff to do,’ Regulus said dismissively, picking the paper and the letter up from the table and tucking them both under his arm. Barty’s eyes narrowed as if he didn’t believe him but he sighed and shrugged allowing the other boy to get on with whatever he was going to do. Regulus nodded in thanks and then headed quickly from the Great Hall. Only he didn’t go to the library. He didn’t even go back to the common room for fear Barty would head back there soon. Instead he headed to the astronomy tower, sitting on the edge, his legs underneath the railing as he rested against it, looking out on the vast snow-covered highlands.

It was pretty, something that would no doubt make a lovely postcard but Regulus couldn’t see the beauty in it. He couldn’t see the beauty in anything. The little things didn’t feel nice anymore because nothing did. It all just felt the same. Aching. Guttural heart-breaking aching that threatened to gnaw a hole in him from the inside out.

Not even listening to how happy his brother was, his Christmas filled with love and laughter could make Regulus feel better. Obviously he was pleased for his brother. Christmas was never much of a celebration and well when it came to cherished family time the pair were certainly lacking so hearing of he and Remus’ first Christmas in their flat, Euphemia’s Christmas dinner and a night spent playing games and drinking sherry well he was glad to know his brother had enjoyed it. But thinking about it didn’t exactly make him happy.

Because he was weaved through it all.

Sirius spent his day with James’ family, revelling in merriment with his parents and then celebrating the engagement announcement on Christmas night. His brother's life was so intertwined with James’ that there would never be time for him to grieve his loss. Not openly. That would only bring mess and more heartbreak for more than just him. No it would all have to be done like it was now, in secret.

Because what else could he do than sit and stare at the engagement announcement. What else could he do but stare at Lily’s lustrous red locks or gleaming smile? How could he not analyse sparkling green eyes and wonder what it was that she had he didn’t?

After all, hadn't James told him he loved him. He’d uttered the words; he’d solidified it and yet when it came down to it he’d opted to go back to her. And without so much as an explanation Regulus had spent months wondering why. It felt like he loved him. And even with the situation being delicate they both knew Sirius would come around to the idea eventually. And as for James’ parents, Euphemia and Fleamont had taken no issue with Sirius and Remus’ situation. In fact when they'd heard of Regulus' situation they’d been gung-ho to offer a place to stay to save the tiny flat being cramped so he doubted James had the same fears he had about coming out so to speak

In the end Regulus figured it was rather that he just wasn’t enough.

He didn’t make him happy the way Lily did, which granted he couldn’t be surprised at given he’d spent years of his life chasing her. Regulus had merely filled a gap. He’d helped him soul search and in that search he had found someone better. And now he was off getting married and leaving Regulus to navigate the heartbreak alone.

And doing that was proving difficult. Because James had lit Regulus’ entire world and without him, without him everything felt dark, like it was absent of sunlight and warmth. Not even green garlands and red bows could remove the blue tinge cast over Regulus’ entire life.

With a lump in his throat Regulus tucked the letter in his back pocket. He’d have to reply to it at some point and to do so he’d need points to springboard off, ones that would satisfy Sirius’ need for a response but also navigate him away from speaking of that which made his heart feel like lead. But he didn���t keep the paper and instead he produced his wand, lighting the tip of it as he placed it against cream sheets. It immediately set alight, yellow flames growing bigger as it caught traction before he tossed it through the air, watching it descend rapidly towards the snowy ground below. It wouldn’t burn long, no doubt dousing the moment it settled on the icy ground and grew damp, but it was enough to get the image of a smiling James Potter and fiancée from Regulus’ mind.

[beatleshalloween]

[troped-fanfic-challenge]

We’re back, witches! It’s time to get ready for TROPED’s fourth annual Halloween Fanfic Challenge and the first Horror Trope Exchange! For this dual event of our TROPED: The Fanfic Writing Challenge, you can select the tropes you want to write and create the horror fic of your dreams or you can have someone else create a horror fic for you and you will write one for someone else (or you can do both, if you're feeling particularly daring)!!

How It Works: TROPED Choice Horror!

The first part of the event will be structured the same as previous Choice Events: tropes and theme list will be released, three weeks to write, three (3) days to vote; one quick round, done and done!

It’s a Multifandom Event! Write from any fandom you’d like! All Fandoms are welcome and there is no minimum participation required for this event! And no sign-ups necessary!

Choose a Theme for your fic from our list of Horror-centric themes! Ghost stories, urban legends, slasher fics, or mystery thrillers, you name it, we wanna see it! But, if Horror isn’t your thing, these fics do not have to be scary (“horror” just sounds better than “halloween”)! Any and all Halloween-themed fics are also welcome here! While we are definitely encouraging scary, spooky, horror style fics, any fic with a general Halloween theme that follows our guidelines and tropes would work great, from a slasher flick inspired horror fic to a soft and fluffy trick-o’-treating kid fic!

Choose four (4) Tropes for your fic from our list of tropes! (You can, of course, choose more than four, but only the first four tropes you list will be included for voting). For this challenge, at least one of your four tropes must be a ‘Horror’ trope, which are in a separate list from the other tropes.

Write your fic in 10,000 words or less! You will upload your fic anonymously to the AO3 Collection linked below. Make sure you put what your theme is and what tropes you used in your fic summary, or in the notes at the TOP of your fic, so we can keep our eyes peeled for them as we read them! (If you are worried the tropes/themes will spoil your fic, you may put them in the notes at the bottom, but please let us know at the top if you choose to do so, and be sure that all of your tropes and themes are in the same place!)

This event will be Optionally Anonymous! Because we want this event to be much more chill, and the writing period will be open for the month, we will not require this event to be anonymous! However, if you would like to have your fic be anonymous, we will be sharing a small tutorial on how to make your fics anonymous and how to remove them from being anonymous sometime soon, so keep your eyes peeled!

Read and Review! Once you’ve submitted your own fic, take a look at the others in the competition! Please try to read as many as you can! Take some notes, leave some kudos/comments for the authors, and help us vote on the winners! This is not a requirement for participation, but it is highly encouraged and helps make TROPED build a strong community!

Community Voting! The voting for this event will be pretty simple! We will keep a list of all fics submitted for each event, and then at the end there will be a voting poll! Voting will be based on the use of your chosen theme, your combined use of all four chosen tropes, the combined use of your theme + your tropes, and bonus polls, most unique pairing (which will count for both platonic and romantic pairings), best scary story, and best use of Halloween! The voting will be based on the fics as a whole, and will include all fandoms together! If you do not want your fic included in the voting, you can let us know, or you can simply upload your fic to our non-anon collection instead! We will still share it along with the other fics and it will be included in all masterlists! We will provide a link when voting begins.

How It Works: TROPED Horror Trope Exchange!

The second part of this event, TROPED: Horror Trope Exchange, is a double blind fanfic exchange, meaning you won’t know who you’re writing for, or who is writing for you! Here’s how it works:

It’s a The 100 Fandom Exchange Only!

Take a look at our Horror Trope list and pick four (4) tropes that you’d like to be included in your gift!! Remember, this event is double blind!! This is to help preserve that truly quintessential TROPED experience, where any writer can take the tropes and make something unique and surprising! Because of this, you wont be able to reach out to your recipient for any more info, and that means what you give your writer is all they have to go on, so try to be clear! If there is something you really want, or really don’t want, make sure to tell them during this stage of the exchange!

Sign Up & Keep Your Ask Box Open! After the sign-up period is over, we will match up all the assignments as best we can, and then we will deliver them to your ask box before the writing period begins! Please be sure to have your ask box open, and please be sure not to post the ask you receive, so it can be kept anonymous.

Write your fic! You will have about three weeks to write a fic that includes you given tropes, and fits into our holiday theme. You will upload your fic to the AO3 Collection linked below. Make sure you put what tropes you were assigned in your fic summary, or in the notes at the TOP of your fic, so we can keep our eyes peeled for them as we read them! (If you are worried the tropes will spoil your fic, you may put them in the notes at the bottom, but please let us know at the top if you choose to do so, and be sure that all of your tropes are in the same place!)

Upload your fic to the TROPED Horror Trope Exchange AO3 Collection only! Fics are due on Monday, October 30th at 12:00pm EST!!! Please be sure to have them in on time, because we will be reviewing them to make sure all your tropes are included! This AO3 collection is unrevealed, which means once your fic is submitted, you won’t be able to see it until we reveal them! If you’re worried about whether we received it or not, you can always DM us to ask!

Happy Halloween! Sit back and relax, we will reveal all the fics on Tuesday, October 31st!!!

TIMELINE:

Trope Exchange Sign Ups Begin: NOW!!!!

Trope Exchange Sign Ups End: 11:59 on Sunday, September 24th

Trope Exchange Assignments Released: Between September 28th—30th

Writing Period Officially Begins: Sunday, October 1st at 12:00am

Writing Period for TROPED Choice Horror Ends: Friday, October 27th at 3:00am PST / 6:00am EST

Writing Period for TROPED Horror Trope Exchange Ends: Monday, October 30th at 12:00pm

Voting Period for Choice Horror: Saturday, October 28th at 12:00am — Monday, October 30th at 11:59pm

Choice Horror Winners and Fic Exchanges Revealed: Tuesday, October 31st at 12:00pm!

RULES:

If you are a veteran to our TROPED Challenges, the rules for this Challenge are mostly the same as before, but any newbies joining the fun should definitely take a look at our full TROPED RULES!

For TROPED Choice: Horror 4.0, the Word Count is 10k or less, Ratings G through E are allowed, but No Smut, and All Fandoms are welcome to participate!

For TROPED Horror Trope Exchange, there is no maximum Word Count, but your fics must be at least 2,500 words! All Ratings G through E are welcome (We will be asking a question during sign-ups about whether you'd be comfortable writing or receiving smut. If your recipient is not comfortable receiving smut, please keep to M ratings or below). Sign-ups are required in advance! This is for The 100 Fandom only!

This event was created to help get creative and different fics out into the world, and to create a fun, positive fandom experience for everyone! In order to ensure that we achieve that goal of a positive experience, we reserve the right to disqualify anyone if we are reading and we think it violates any of our rules.

If you have any questions or concerns please send an Ask or DM a Mod ( @thelittlefanpire or @dylanobrienisbatman )!

HORROR LINKS:

TROPED Choice: Horror Challenge Info + Guidelines Google Doc: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1aZtaoXMGG4OidZhQkfTb4uHNI9ZXkt7sKWvID1p0m_8/edit

Sign-Up for the Horror Trope Exchange here: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfcnMy3r8el0Tk-tZFMURNL2wXaL958_9b0Ml5pHLxxWL2jRw/viewform?usp=sf_link

TROPED: Horror Trope Exchange Info + Tropes + Guidlines Google Doc: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1CzcM3YG0D1xrI98Ga8nB0cd7syu8QlPE2hNZy0jdAo0/edit

[sky-neverending]

Halloween asks for writers! ask a question and the writer has to answer with at least 100 words of fic about the question/scenario. time to get creative, writers!!anywhere it says insert character, you pick the character to ask about! (for example, on number one, i would pop by someone’s box and say “how do you think eddie munson would celebrate halloween?” or “1 with crowley?”)

1. How would[insert character] would celebrate halloween?

2. what would [insert character(s)] dress as for halloween?

3. what is [insert character(s)] favorite Halloween movie?

4. if [insert character] was a turned into a typical Halloween monster, (ex: vampire, werewolf, etc) what would they be and how would they react to being turned?

5. how did [insert character] celebrate Halloween as a kid, and did that affect how they celebrate it now?

6. does [insert character] decorate for the holiday? if so, how much, and what’s the general vibe they go for?

7. what is [insert characters] favorite and/or least favorite memory surrounding the holiday?

8. write [insert character(s)] into a halloween movie as one of the characters

9. [insert characters] power goes out on Halloween night. how do they react, and what happens?

10. dealers choice (you make up your own prompt for the writer to answer)

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

just looking in my ask box, your hoes's obssession with pumkin spice latte is botomless 😂

[salingers]

october's end.

[joel miller x f!reader]. summary: a filthy halloween night with your dad's best friend, joel miller. [you get him to briefly wear a ghostface mask. enjoy]. warnings: 18+ mdni. age gap. alcohol. au. begging. cream pie. dirty talk. dom!joel. fingering. jealous!joel. language. masked!joel. no outbreak. no use of 'y/n'. praising. smut. use of 'good girl'. use of 'slut'. unprotected piv. word count: [about] 3,800. a/n: hi! debut, written for @mermaidgirl30's halloween writing challenge. cover by me, divider by @saradika. @saradika-graphics. <3

Everything’s bigger in Texas, including Halloween. Your childhood neighborhood is locally televised each October’s end, due to every home’s enthusiastic participation. There’s an annual stoppage of traffic for the singular evening’s festivities, permitting only costumed bodies to roam the gated community’s residential roads. 

Branches draped in gauzy webs. Yards engulfed in artificial fog. A beloved holiday tradition, predating the tailend of the seventies, when Dad and Joel were elementary aged and wielding pillowcases of candies. Now, they’re fifty-somethings, bemoaning mutual back pain and cursing pesky lawn decorations.

“Here,” Joel gruffs, while individually sliding Dad two Reese’s pumpkins, from across the kitchen’s counter. “Protein break. ‘S four grams.”

Dad swipes them both up, before confirming that statement by thumbing one’s wrapper, “That ain’t bad.”

You’re quietly laughing at their supposed refueling, while stooping behind the fridge’s door and scanning the moistened shelves. There. A seasonal beer, from your favorite brewery in Austin. It’s comfortably predictable, returning home for Halloween; From Dad purchasing your favorite autumnal ales, to Joel Miller’s ruggedness.

You properly right yourself. Then, using your waist, nudge the appliance’s door shut, “Dad, where’s your bottle opener?”

Dad’s phone abruptly drones, reverberating against granite and interrupting your question; He grimaces at the caller’s illuminated identity.

You guess, “Ghostface?”

Dad laughs, before emphasizing, “Worse. My neediest client.” He abandons his barstool, continuing, “Actin’ like buildin’ up in Waco makes ‘er Joanna Gaines.” Dad apologetically nods toward you, “Joel. Will ‘ya?”

Joel’s scruffy chin tips upwards, directing you, “C’mere.”

Something’s brewing, once Dad vacates the vicinity. Your forced proximity to Joel is newly palpable; Tonight’s different. You’re obedient, in approaching him. Joel doesn’t stop staring. The bottle’s neck is being strangled, under your dominant hand. You can’t completely ward off an image of taking him into your palm.

Your minimal passage to his barstool seemed slow-motioned, almost. You’re not sure. Time’s just apparently lengthier, under Joel’s browned gaze.

 Joel grunts, fingering his carabiner of keys, attempting to sift out his bottle opener keychain, “You playin’ Michael Meyers, ‘gain? ‘Round one night, only?”

You amusedly scoff, “Keepin’ track?”

Joel shrugs, “Eight days, in eight years.”

You’re genuinely surprised that Joel’s noted your absence. Maybe, Dad revealed that specific number, correlating to your sparse appearances in Austin; Well, it could’ve been that Dad mentioned to Joel about how since your high school’s graduation, you’ve only managed to visit home yearly. That’s just basic math. Right?

You stammer, “Uh huh. ‘S my favorite holiday.”

Joel hums, before abruptly wrapping his calloused palm around the entirety of your hand and the beer bottle’s width, “Hm. ‘N that your favorite beer?”

You’re momentarily silent, muted by Joel’s warmth. A sizable hand, roughened from decades of hard labor. The tips of his delectably thick fingers begin tightening at your wrist, securing his hold as he’s standing himself up.

Even fully seated, Joel’s intimidating in size. Him standing toe-to-toe with you? That’s another story. His construction boots are weathered and worn; They would be comically large, in comparison to your measly-sized sneakers, but nothing’s funny about Joel Miller’s body mere inches from yours.

You reply by mustering an eager nod; And, whether that’s in response to Joel’s prior question pertaining your liking of the beer, or merely an approval of his nearness to you? You haven’t decided.

Joel rasps, “Anythin’ else?” He’s pulling your combined hands downward, to his waist. The carabiner’s remained attached to his belt’s loop, “That ‘ya favor?”

You’re struggling to think of something witty to retort. Because, the frayed seam of Joel’s zipper is right there. He’s deftly notching the bottle’s cap inside of the opener’s teeth; The beer crisply hisses, releasing any contained pressure.

Joel whispers, “What, darlin’? Bat got your tongue?”

You defeatedly laugh, “Somethin’ like that.”

He grins, carefully releasing you, “Taste it.”

You harshly gulp, “S–Sorry? Oh, right. T–The beer.” 

Joel agrees, “That’s right.” Then, darkly teases, “Y’know, that pretty mind ‘a yours is boundin’ for the gutter.”

He crosses his arms against his broad chest, the canvas fabric of his Carhartt jacket drawing taut. Joel’s now cocking his head, sending his gaze along the pathway from the glass vessel that you’re feebly holding, to the lower lip that you’re inadvertently biting; Daring you.

You’re feignedly bold, “Meet ‘ya there.”

You drink, even if it’s primarily to keep yourself from further stuttering. At first, it’s an adequate enough distraction; The alcohol’s frigid in temperature, soothing to the high-strung tendons of your throat, from the inside-out. Then, you’re curiously drawn to Joel’s own gulping throat, and that transient composure of yours is gone.

Joel’s devotedly watching you, his glare heady and sensual. His Adam’s apple jerks, moving atop the clenched muscles and corded veins of his neck. You’re somewhat tipping back, gathering your final mouthful, for now; You’ve drained three-fourths of it, by the time that you’ve halted your sipping.

Then, Joel’s thumb darts out, before smoothing against your glistening mouth. He drawls, “Got it lookin’ real good. Let’s see.”

You’re only narrowly audible, “Oh? Joel.” 

Joel’s tongue, deliciously large and scrubbed pink, strokes his finger. He groans, “Mm. Ain’t sure. Need ‘t sample it from the source.”

You inwardly whimper, “Yeah?”

You’re foolishly tempted to extend him the ambered bottle itself, because surely Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, would identify that as the ‘source’. Not your parted, wanting lips. Like Joel’s read your hesitant mind, he reassuringly pins your hands behind your back, easily dismissing the beer; A singular hand of his own, dwarfing the pair of your wrists.

Joel’s ghosting your lips, “Yeah.”

For good measure, Joel lightly moans, sucking his dampened digit. Humming around the pumpkin spiced suds, lapping up any residual taste from his finger. Arms restrained, spine straightened; Your chest’s rising urgently.

Joel’s own chest, delicately hairy below his threadbare t-shirt, is an odd inch away. A desperate heat’s begun permeating your lower abdomen; Achingly unfurling, taking up residency in your cunt.

Of course, it’s then that Dad’s barrelling over, having withdrawn from his nearby office, “Sorry ‘bout that, kid. Get ‘er open?”

You’re coughing out, “Y–Yep.” Then, “Thanks, Joel.”

Dropping your wrists, Joel winks, “Oh. ‘M pleasure.”

Your incriminating closeness to Joel goes unrecognized by Dad; Seeing as, Joel’s wide shoulders completely obscure you from view.

Dad sighs, “Gee, there ain’t no escapin’ this shiplap.”

Joel immediately laughs, casually reclaiming his prior barstool. The jarring segue from Joel’s flirting with you, to his joking with Dad, is absolutely disorientating. You’re fidgeting, repeatedly and silently tapping your foot. You can’t do Joel here; You’ll settle for doing last-minute Halloween preparations.

You blurt, “Goin’ to start organizin’ the candy. ‘S all in the garage, Dad?”

Dad assuredly nods, “Sure is. ‘Cept these.” He chuckles, gathering the forgotten wrappers from his earlier ‘protein break’ with Joel.

You remind him, “Don’t forget to refill the fog tanks.”

Dad, who seemingly had forgotten, regretfully snaps his fingers, “What would I do without ‘ya?” He’s bragging to Joel, “Look at ‘er.”

Joel agreeably nods. Eyeing you, “Good girl.”

Because, Dad and Joel are career contractors, who are simultaneously life-long friends and next-door neighbors, it’s only right that they’ve done an elaborate, joint Halloween for three decades; Locally dubbed the ‘Construction Fright’.

A (questionably) age-appropriate spread of horror, featuring thrifted tools that bludgeon and dismember an assortment of plastic skeletons. Hard hats, faux-bloodied and stabbed with rusted nails. Construction tape, riddled in spiderwebs.

A half-dozen, battered wheelbarrows, brimming with chocolate candies; Three brown ones, carrying Hershey’s, Rolo, and Tootsie Roll. Three orange ones, containing every imaginable variant of Reese’s. 

 You’ve already been working for nearly an hour; Arranging the color-coordinated barrows of candy. You’re jamming the recycling bin’s lid shut, overtop the cardboard and plastic wrappings of king-sized bars, when the entry door’s opened.

Dad’s entering the garage, “Sun’s settin’ soon, kid. ‘Oughta get dressed.” He lazily squeezes you in an impromptu side-hug, “Thanks, for helpin’.”

You breathily sigh, “Mhm. Oh, I need ‘t light the Jack-O-Lanterns.”

Joel appears, insisting,  “Go on, darlin’. I’ll get ‘em sweatin’ for ‘ya.”

You’re thinking, ‘That’s ridiculously slutty of him to say’, when Joel continues, this time addressing Dad, “Hey. Phone’s ringin’ over ‘gain.”

Dad sighs, “Got ‘t be kiddin’ me.” Then, grumbles, “Sure hopin’ it’s Ghostface.” He grins, lightly pinching your elbow.

You giggle, “C’mon. She can’t be that bad.”

Dad shrugs, smiling before swiftly jogging up the garage’s concrete steps; When Dad’s fully retreated inside, and the door’s naturally swung shut, Joel doesn’t waste any time pinning your body against it.

Joel whispers, “Bet ‘ya find that this pussy’s wet ‘f me, when you’re undressin’ it.” His jeaned, muscular thigh’s nudging your legs ajar.

You airily groan, “P–Please. Fuckin’ kiss me.”

Joel grins, wedging his ample thigh’s sturdy surface against your beating cunt. He kisses you; Joel Miller fuckin’ kisses you. He’s grabbing your face, thumbing your cheekbones. His lengthy fingers, scraping your skull.

His tongue’s deeply delving, eagerly exploring your mouth’s every crevasse. You can’t breathe efficiently or think coherently. Everything’s Joel. His graying beard, raking your chin; A woodsy scent, like that of the hardware store’s lumber aisles, exuding from his clothing.

You’re moaning, “Ngh.” Then, ripping at the silvery hair that’s curling against the nape of his sun-freckled neck, “More.”

Joel’s grunting, “Fuck. Need ‘t stop.” He can’t stop, and sucks your bottom lip, once more. Then, “H–Hear ‘im? He’s gainin’ on us.”

Sure enough, Dad’s approaching. It’s damn-near impossible to quit rutting along Joel’s denimed, upper leg. You’re whining, “Need ‘ya.”

Joel’s panting, “T–Tonight, darlin’.” He arousingly whispers, “All night. When the porch light’s out, sneak over.” Then, darker and deeper, “Repeat it.”

You repeat, “Tonight. When the porch light’s out, sneak over.”

You’re admittedly distracted, during the evening’s trick-or-treating segment. You understand that nothing’s allowed to appear awry around Dad, but Joel’s playing casual too well. You shouldn’t overthink, but it’s torturous; That he’s apparently unaffected. Drinking with Dad and Tommy. Never really staring at you.

Joel’s (conveniently) costumed as himself every Halloween, but himself during working hours; A leathered tool belt, cinching his tender waist. A backwards Filson hat, tamping his unkempt curls. His dirtiest ‘white’ t-shirt; The neckline’s absurdly tattered and torn, an array of holes displaying his body’s coarse hair.

Midland’s country cover of ‘Wicked Game’ is emitting from neighboring speakers. You can’t resist likening the song’s drumming pattern to your own heart’s pulsating rhythm; Yearning for Joel’s attention. Then, Dad’s whistling for your attention.

Dad’s pointing, “Look, kid. Your ‘ol boyfriend, Nick. He’s fuckin’ Ghostface.” Dad humorously roars, standing, “See ‘im? H–Hold on.”

You’re avidly protesting, but Dad’s already approaching Nick, who’s not wearing, but holding his hooded mask; Fingers cupping the elongated, rubbery chin. There’s nothing inherently wrong about him; He (morally) should be your holiday hook-up, not your dad’s best friend. It’s too bad.

Joel snipes, “Dick?”

You tut, “It’s Nick.”

Joel’s feigning understanding, “Oh, Prick.”

You’re unsure what’s initiated this potent sexual tension, but it’s consumed your every thought this Halloween; While, Joel’s every word is loaded. His irritated sarcasm’s gunned your way. Any bickering’s uncommon, for the pair of you. You’re hoping that Tommy’s too busy proffering candy to notice.

Dad’s returned, towing Nick, “Weren’t we just talkin’ ‘bout him, kid? So funny.” Dad, and his dorky penchant for inside-jokes.

Nick cluelessly smiles, “Hi, you.”

You politely reply, “Hi, yourself.”

Nick’s extending his hand, summoning you from your designated seat, “Got ‘t see this costume.” Then, he’s declaring you, “Stunning.”

You’re incredulously laughing, “They’re bloodied overalls.”

Nick grins, persisting, “Love ‘em. Also, this apron’s awesome.” He’s thumbing your accessory’s front, tracing the logo, “Carhartt girl, huh?”

You’re aiming to get under Joel’s skin with, “Scream girl, too.” You inspect Nick’s black robe, feeling his arm’s draping sleeve.

Oh, Joel Miller’s jealous. He’s rolling his earthy-toned eyes; Aggressively peeling his beer’s damp label, while instigating Dad, “Hearin’ this?”

Dad’s indifferent, shrugging. He’s always approved of Nick for you; He’s Texan, and plays Minor League Baseball. That’ll do it.

Nick’s pleading, “Let’s please walk ‘round, sweep the neighborhood?”

Joel snarks, “Hell. Reckon he’s recruitin’ for Neighborhood Watch?”

Nick’s nervously smiling, having not heard Joel’s dig, but surely hearing Dad and Tommy’s abrupt snickering.

You kindly respond, “Let’s. Love seein’ the decorations.”

It’s nine-thirty. Your street’s grown habitually sparse; Toddlers, having resigned to stringent bedtimes. Teens, having retreated to erupting parties.

You decipher Joel’s looming silhouette; His rocking chair’s creaking, upon the dimmed porch’s planks. A gleaming tumbler of (presumably) whiskey is resting against his crossed leg, the glass winking at you.

Joel’s dragging his index finger’s edge against his groomed mustache, thumbing his angrily tightened jaw. He rasps, “Ain’t walk ‘ya home?” 

You’re ascending his porch’s tread, “Didn’t need that. Told ‘im so.” Then, untying your apron’s chaotic knot, “Uncross your leg, Joel.”

Joel’s pleasingly pliant; He warns, “That’s the only order that I’m takin’ tonight.” His lap’s deliciously spreading, “Get ‘t drawin’ the blinds.”

The anticipation’s wetting you. You’re immediately scampering along the porch’s perimeter, rolling down every privacy blind; Joel’s patiently swigging his auburn liquor. You whimper, “A–Anythin’ else?”

Joel’s rolling the wick of his adjacent kerosene lantern; Thrusting his opened lap, scrounging his Zippo lighter from an anterior pant pocket. His hand’s arousingly veined, while flicking the lighter’s flint wheel.

He belatedly replies, “Drop your apron. Undo your overalls.”

You’ve dropped the apron, and something’s spilling out from the largest pocket; Joel’s deeply exhaling, “Explain that.”

The lamp’s emitting faint light, fire illuminating his hardening expression. He’s so scarily sexy. You’re inching nearer, but Joel hoists his palm, stopping you.

You embarrassedly gulp, “N–Nick’s mask. Asked me ‘t hold it. He never wore it.”

Joel’s impatient, waving, “And?”

You’re tentatively unhooking your denimed straps, gently uttering, “W–Would ‘ya? Wear it?”

Joel’s mildly surprised, “Oh?” Deciding, “Bring it here. On your knees.”

You instantly kneel, before gathering up the discarded disguise using your teeth. You’re crawling to Joel, crossing the porch’s dully-lit surface. The bib upon your overalls undone; The garment’s buckling loops clinking.

Joel involuntarily moans, “Ngh. Dirty fuckin’ girl.” His index finger’s pumping from his balled up fist, signaling you.

Your pussy’s thumping, because of his commanding, curling digit. You’re itching to suck it. You need anything of Joel’s inside of you.

You’ve gradually reached Joel; You’re being caged in-between his lengthy legs. Joel forcibly pinches your face, removing the mask from your bite’s grasp. The item’s resultantly spat, against his abutted groin.

He’s astonished at the filthy sight, rustling, “How ‘bout that.” You’re resting on your haunches, while Joel praises, “Good girl.”

Joel’s abruptly leaning downward, before hungrily lifting your body’s entirety along his own. He’s immediately kissing you, sinking against the rocking chair’s curved spine; The porch’s cedar ground sighs, creakily duetting with Joel’s groans.

You’re practically siphoning the remnant whiskey from his tongue’s cushioned pad; Your mouth’s rabidly sucking, while your waist’s desperately grinding.

Joel’s bypassing your denimed, disoriented trousers; His palm’s greedily grasping your back’s arched column. His remaining arm, ladling your ass. Then, Joel’s effortlessly hauling your goosebumped figure upward; The rocking chair’s momentum being an assistant. The mask’s wedged in-between your upright bodies.

Joel breathes, “T–The lamp. Hang tight.” You’re licking Joel’s partially bearded throat; He’s briefly hunching, responsibly lowering the wick, consequently extinguishing the flame. Your quartet of limbs, wrapping his flexing torso.

You’re whispering, “You’re so big and strong, Joel.”

He amusedly sighs, “Yeah?” Promising, “Ain’t seen nothin’.”

Then, Joel’s roughly stamping your body against the front door’s exterior; His bulge swelling, pinning your pussy. The entry knob’s blindly twisted. Joel’s heavy-footed steps are reverberated, crunching his home’s metallic threshold.

First, Joel carelessly clears his entry way’s waist-heighted table. Juggling you, while his tanned arm’s sweeping everything off; A ceramic, coffee-stained mug of loose change’s completely shattered. Second, Joel harshly kicks his anterior door shut; There’s an impressive boot print, left behind.

Joel’s panting, “Tell me ‘t stop?”

You’re begging, “K–Keep goin’.”

He hums, “Hm. Need it, darlin’?” Joel’s hurriedly planting you upon the table’s cleared crest, kissing your nodding throat. Agreeing, “Yeah. You do.”

It’s dizzyingly hot; Joel gruffly ripping off your mussed overalls, easily tugging off your slip-on sneakers. He’s lobbing them across the room, away from the mess of coins and shards. You’re noticing the Ghostface mask, under his unmoving bicep.

Joel’s noticing you, “This what ‘ya want?” He’s hesitantly thumbing the mask’s gaping jaw. “Ain’t scared?”

You quietly say, “Like ‘t be scared.” You’re reaching upward, prying off his hat; His hair’s deliciously gray and tousled. “Here.”

Joel’s flinging his accessory away. Then, handing you the hooded, horror mask, “Go ‘head.” He warns, “Wearin’ it ‘till you’re comin’. Understand?”

You’re stroking his untidy hair, readying him, “Won’t be long.” You murmur, “S–Soppin’ for ‘ya.”

Joel’s grunting, “Fuck’s sake.” Kissing you, in-between threatening, “Filthy. ‘Oughta edge ‘ya. Talkin’ like that.”

He impatiently rings your wrists; You’re positioning the mask properly overhead. The draping fabric’s hitting Joel’s colossal shoulders. 

Your pulse’s hammering, “Oh.”

The mask’s milky-colored expression, surveying you. Stark, against the setting of Joel’s unlighted home. His index finger’s impulsively traveling your body; Dragging over your bottom lip’s dampened flesh. Then, carnally downard, riding your throat. Fingering your jugular’s delicate divet. Hooking your undershirt’s airy collar.

Joel’s taunting, “Heart’s racin’.”

You’re anguishly rutting against his console table’s lacquered top. You need to be touched. You beg, “J–Joel. Oh, Joel.”

Joel’s eerily tilting his head, “Pussy’s racin’ like that, too?” Whispering, “Ain’t it?”

You’re deliriously horny, “Yes.”

He’s humming, “Hm. Shirt’s got ‘t go, first.” His unoccupied hand’s rummaging his hind pocket, while, “Reckon that my knife’ll work?”

You’re pleading, “C–Cut it off.”

Then, Joel’s brandishing his utility knife. The blade’s expertly flicked outward. He urges, “Try ‘t hold still.”

Joel Miller’s carving your fucking shirt; His blade’s blunt edge skimming your sternum. He’s effortlessly halved it, forging an impromptu vest. He’s instantaneously shoving the garment overtop your rigid shoulders.

The knife’s frigid handle brushes your tapered nipple; Joel’s awaiting permission, hovering your underwear’s waistline. You’re nodding, kneading his large shoulders. His finger’s hitching the material, before his blade’s cutting it.

Snipping the remaining side, Joel grunts, “Cunt need stuffin’?” He’s pocketing your saturated underwear and his retracted knife, “I know it’s wet ‘nough to take two fingers.”

You’ve been fantasizing about Joel entering you all Halloween. And, finally; He does. He’s groaning, “S–Swallowin’ both of ‘em. ‘Jus like that?”

Your angling head’s hitting the paneled wall. You’re obscenely squelching around his battering digits. You belatedly respond, “JoelJoelJoelJoel.”

Joel’s roughened wrist’s repeatedly rubbing your beating clit. You’re clenching speechlessly around him, innately meeting every re-entry. Your spine’s warming; Your stomach’s taut.

Your arousal’s watering his driving hand; His palm’s pooling. Joel’s incessantly steady. Praising, “Comin’ up. Doin’ good.”

You’re gasping, “There. Oh, right there.”

The instant that you’re coming, Joel’s yanking off his hindering mask. His beard’s patchy and sweaty. He grins, “Man ‘a my word.”

Then, Joel’s amused mouth’s pounding upon your own; He��s desperately inhaling your breaking moans. Licking your teeth’s underside. 

You’re abundantly squirting, as Joel’s uncorking your cunt. Your spotting vision’s correcting leisurely. You’re languidly sighing; Breathing deeply.

He’s genuinely insane for drinking you from his cupped palm. Then, Joel’s mouthing his soggy fingers; Hitting knuckle. You’re blurting, “Need ‘t fuck.”

Joel’s arching his aging brow; Rasping, “Ask nicely.” Then, he’s towing your body overtop his broad shoulder. Spanking you, “Greedy fuckin’ girl.”

You’re nakedly suspended, Joel’s bicep rippling below your ass. He’s entering his living room; Carefully placing you across his cognac-colored sectional. You’re propping upon the chaise’s leathered cushions. You whine, “Please, Joel.”

Joel’s tutting, “Better’n that.” 

You supply, “Pretty please?”

He’s gradually moving nearer; His denim-clad shins, butting the couch’s edge. Joel’s unhurriedly thumbing his belt’s loop, painfully prolonging his removing it. You’re wetting and writhing against his furniture’s fabric.

Joel’s unimpressed, “C’mon.”

Shedding his accessory; Working his zipper. His acting arm’s so freckled, tanned, veined. Joel’s yanking his t-shirt overhead, before subsequently revealing an appetizing, softened tummy. His happy trail’s graying and wiry.

You’re begging, “Joel. Please.”

He’s winking, “Good ‘nough.”

Every sound’s tantalizing; Joel’s boots and pants, thumping across the carpet. His bare, bulky thigh’s abruptly rubbing against your naked pussy; Then, Joel’s mirroring your body’s horizontal position. Mounting you.

Your arousal’s drenching his underwear’s front; His length’s largely tenting the humid material, “Beggin’ like that. Fuckin’ slut.”

You’re involuntarily panting, when Joel’s finally and fully undressed. His cock’s deliciously girthy. The tip’s engorged, reddened and seeping; Erecting far beyond his belly’s button.

You’re whimpering, “PleasePleasePlease.”

Joel grins, “Cunt’s quiverin’. Feelin’ that?”

You desperately nod, “Need you ‘t feel it.”

Joel’s immediately pistoning his fleshy waist; His cock’s knocking your cervix’s wall. His rough thrusting’s fastly inching your bodies upward, until your head’s rearing the sofa’s supple tailend.

He whispers, “Warm ‘nough?”

You gasp, “C–Cock’s perfect.”

Joel’s inaudibly responding; Ramming your hand, palming your pelvis. You’re feeling his cock, below your abdomen’s exterior. He’s interlocking your fingers; His own swallowing yours; Pressing. You’re practically tracing his bulbous, twitching tip.

He’s praising, “Takin’ me well.”

Joel’s bottoming-out, pounding steadily; His bloated, weighty balls welting your taint. Your clit’s puffing, from his pubic bone’s rhythmic route. Dementedly fucking you. You’re moaning, “Ah. F–Fuck.”

He murmurs, “Cunt’s gulpin’ me.” Joel’s hooking your knee’s underside, before lugging it overtop his broad shoulder’s slope, “Needy fuckin’ hole.”

You’re stammering, “Ngh. M–Mm. RightThereRightThere.”

Then, Joel’s angling deeper, differently; Laying his body’s robust weight against your languid, vertical leg. Your foot’s achingly surpassing your head. His chest hair’s graying and saturated; Scraping you.

Your pussy’s overwhelmingly spasming. Joel’s messily tonguing your nipple’s peak; His mustache’s prickling the sensitive skin. You’re tugging at his hair’s curling strands, “J–Joel. Close.”

Joel’s echoing your prior words, “Meet ‘ya there.”

You’re shockingly surprised, that Joel’s remembered the momentary retort; Your faux-bold response and pumpkin spiced alcohol. That’s it. You’re blindly coming. His cock’s densely brimming your contracting hole; Hammering you.

Your pussy’s pornographically sloshing. Joel whimpers, “A–’Atta girl. Drenchin’ it.” Then, “Comin’ inside. ‘M snipped. Yeah?”

You’re immediately kissing him. Palming his beard’s rugged stubble. Sucking his tongue’s pink pores; Tasting your arousal’s heady flavoring.

His climaxing moan’s roaring down your throat; Cum rapidly spurting, coating your cunt. You’re rubbing his rolling eye’s crinkled grooves. His forehead’s tanned and wrinkled. Joel’s especially gorgeous, while cumming hard.

You’re pouring, when Joel’s unplugging you. He’s breathlessly cursing, “Fuckin’ hot.” Standing, “Gettin’ towels. Need anythin’ else? Water?”

You’re beginning to respond, when Joel’s unexpectedly bending; Kissing you. You smile, tapping your bottom lip, “What’s that for?”

Joel’s embarrassedly pointing, toward the nearby microwave’s blinking clock. He explains, “Ten thirty-one on October thirty-first. ‘Dunno. Good luck? Make ‘a wish or somethin’.”

You’re actually dumbfounded, “Oh? You’re absurdly cute.”

Joel frowns, “Ain’t allowed ‘t call me that. ‘Specially while leakin’ my seed.” He’s nakedly turning, preparing to walk, “Water?”

You’re pulling Joel’s hand, “Wait. Want ‘t hear your wish.”

He gulps, “That… You’ll be visitin’ home on Thanksgivin’.”

[jobean12-blog]

Yayayayay amazing❤️love this!

witchywithwhiskey's horror movie hoe-a-thon

happy spooky season, y'all! now that summer is ending and spirit halloweens are re-opening, i wanted to celebrate my favorite season by hosting a writing/moodboard challenge (my first!) around one of my favorite things: horror movies. i've selected 31 horror movies/franchises and 31 horror movie quotes to inspire folks with some spooky, scary cinema!

how it works:

select a movie and/or quote from the lists below to base a fic or moodboard around. (i've also included picker wheels if you want to choose at random.) if you choose a movie, you can use any aspect of that movie as inspiration—the story, an image, a scene, a song, a line, whatever you want! if you use a quote, please incorporate it into your work in some way!

there are no limits on how many people can use each movie/quote

the challenge will start september 1 and end october 30 (at 11:59pm ET)

all works will be put into a masterlist to be published on october 31

you don't need to follow me to participate

tag me and #horrormoviehoeathon in your entry so i can read/reblog your work!

the rules:

you must be 18+ to participate in this challenge!

chris evans, sebastian stan, henry cavill characters and marvel characters are welcome - but NO RPF

works can be dark, fluff, smut, angst but make sure to use appropriate warnings. works don't need to be horror even though we're using horror movies as our inspiration!

no grooming, underage, watersports/scat, incest, necrophilia or bestiality

dubcon, noncon and monsterfucking are ok!

reader-inserts only, and all works (fics and moodboards) should be inclusive. works with poc, gender neutral, plus size/curvy readers are encouraged!

there are no word limits but please use a read more after 300 words

limit of three entries per person (including both fics and moodboards)

works can be part of an existing series but must be able to stand on their own

have fun!!

if you have any questions or want to enter with a movie/quote not included in my lists, please send me an ask or DM. otherwise, horror movies and quotes are below the cut!

horror movies (picker wheel)

A Nightmare on Elm Street (franchise)

Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992)

Candyman (franchise)

Cursed (2004)

Don’t Breathe (2016)

Fresh (2022)

Friday the 13th (franchise)

Ghost Ship (2002)

Halloween (franchise)

House of Wax (2005)

I Know What You Did Last Summer (franchise)

Jeepers Creepers (2001)

Jennifer’s Body (2009)

Joy Ride (2001)

Knock Knock (2015)

Ready or Not (2019)

Saw (franchise)

Scream (franchise)

Stay Alive (2006)

The Boy (2016)

The Cabin in the Woods (2011)

The Craft (1996)

The Invisible Man (2020)

The Invitation (2022)

The Purge (franchise)

The Strangers (2008)

Trick 'r Treat (2007)

Urban Legend (1998)

Van Helsing (2004)

When A Stranger Calls (2006)

You’re Next (2011)

horror movie quotes (picker wheel)

What’s your favorite scary movie?

Trust is a tough thing to come by these days.

There's evil in the wood.

I'm sure it's a lot scarier at night.

Save your breath for screaming.

No. I'm killing boys.

Don't you want to be an urban legend?

I want to play a game.

Do not read the Latin.

Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep.

I know what you did last summer.

We all go a little mad sometimes.

It's Halloween. I guess everyone's entitled to one good scare.

I’m your number one fan.

We are the weirdos, mister.

I’m your god now.

Do you think this is a fucking game?

I love you too much to condemn you.

Even Hell has its heroes.

There is much to be learned from beasts.

Why does it smell like wet dog in here?

Women just taste better.

Do I look like some kind of monster?

Oh you wanna play psycho killer? Can I be the helpless victim?

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

I'm your boyfriend now.

It's about giving. Giving yourself over to somebody.

No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel.

He said that wherever I went, he would find me.

I've met my demons and they are many. I've seen the devil, and he is me.

You were one of my favorites.