#and i never got trick or treaters at my old house anyway so i will just turn off the lights and pretend to be not home.

[ghostzzy]

trying rly hard to be in a good mood today but it’s not working :^(

i forgot to buy candy for trick or treaters. i have no halloween plans. i have to do school again today. my whole house stinks for some reason i cannot figure out. investigating made me puke. work is annoying. just. uagahgghagsjfksksjfkj.

[jodilin65]

MONDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1994 So far we’ve had 3 trick or treaters. I’ve been giving them Reese’s and Milky Ways.

Larry called a little while ago and we had a nice chat. I even talked to Sandy. They’re both happy I’m happy.

He’s no longer driving so he can spend more time with the family. He’s driving a gasoline truck locally. He said one of these days they’ll all get out here, Sandy’s never been here and that when we come to visit we can stay with them. He says he misses his little sister.

We each told each other a joke and when I asked what Larry and Jenny were dressing up as he said “assholes.” Then he told me she was a cat. They’ve had over 150 kids. Wow!

I brought up the pie incident that happened years ago where Larry dropped a whole pie all over the living room carpet. Sandy wasn’t too happy, but Larry, the kids, and I were cracking up. He said they were just talking about that a few days ago.

Now that he’ll be home, I wonder if he’ll go see Tammy.

Andy went to 6 restaurants today but had no luck so far. He has another interview tonight at 8:00, so hopefully, he’ll luck out.

After I fill up tons of no-postage-necessary envelopes, I’ll give them to him to mail out since we live in a house and they can be easily traced to us.

I did a hell of a lot around the house today. I vacuumed, dusted, rearranged, cleaned the kitchen, worked out, and am really making a point to smoke outside.

When Tom came home we made dinner. He barbecued steak and I fried hash browns.

Tomorrow I might go to the racetrack with him and his parents.

I learned a few new things on the computer, but I’ll explain it later. Now that we got the other monitor back from Eldon, he’s going to put together that second computer.

I just wrote down some questions to ask Tammy so we can send games. Tomorrow I’ll mail out Bill’s birthday card so he’ll have it by the 8th.

Later…

Well, we’ve had way more than 4 trick or treaters now. More like 20-30. We only have 9 candy bars left, so after 1 more ring of the doorbell, I’ll shut the light off, hook the screen, and whatever’s left over will be ours.

I’m recording a movie right now and sitting in the living room so I can hear the door. I just hooked the screen and turned the outside light off, speaking of it, as 3 more kids came. We’ve got 6 candy bars left for us and we turned the living room and kitchen lights off, as Tom’s in the back room and I’m in my room. Even though my room is at the front of the house, they’ll never notice it as I’ve got those soundproofing things up along with tin foil behind it.

I don’t know if I’ll be continuing on with my subindex in #81. Maybe I’ll work on that later.

Tom showed me how to search for certain words in a document. When doing my journals, I can cap anything after a question mark or an exclamation mark but not the first letter of a word that begins a paragraph. However, if they’re names I use, I don’t need to bother to cap it cuz I’m going to cap all the names afterward anyhow. That’s another thing I learned. I can take all the Tammys or Andys and cap them all. The only other thing I don’t need to cap that begin paragraphs are words like, I’ll, I’m, I’d, cuz the spell check will tell me to cap those anyway.

Later…

There are still some trick-or-treaters out as I can hear dogs. The blessing of it is, though, that they’re off in the distance. Inside the house it’s quiet, the dog next door’s not out and there are no dogs across the street right in front of us.

I’m still debating on whether or not to do the rest of the subindex. It’d be nice to have but not worth the pain of doing it. Anyway, I’ve got through the rest of this book and the next to decide if I want to continue it. I highly doubt I will, though. I’ll at least have the worst parts of my life done in the subindex. All the Springfield, S. Deerfield and Norwich books. In other words, all the MA and CT books.

I also hooked up an old phone of mine that I believe I had on Oswego St. The living room speakerphone had a dual-jack connector, so I hooked it up so there are two phones in the living room till Tom goes into the attic and runs the phone, audio and video wires. This way we can both talk to my parents, Tammy, Andy or whoever.

I jokingly asked Tom if he thought Larry was Andy and he said he thought it was Fran for a second. Yeah, I can see how he might have thought Larry was Fran. They both have deep voices.

There sure are a lot of helicopters out there. One was shining its light down, so they could’ve been looking for someone.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1994 Yesterday we went out and I got Gloria’s oldies CD. Most of the songs on it I never really liked, but her singing was good and the picture of her on the cover’s nice. Her hair’s growing out again and it’s straighter. I’ve heard all the songs that are on it. I mean, I at least knew of all the songs. There are a couple of upbeat disco ones that I like. Tom likes most of the ones I don’t.

I finished Tom’s 50 tips in Windows & DOS, saved it and printed it out. He oughta be quite happy with it.

Last night I tried to print pictures with the new color ribbon and there’s a problem with the 8” and up pictures. I also learned how to change ribbons. When you stick a color ribbon in the printer, you have to tell the printer there’s a color ribbon in it. All you do is hit two buttons. One says “install” and the other says “color ribbon.”

Hang on and let me go get a smoke. Then, I’ll tell you about Andy and our (Tom & I) talk to my parents.

Later…

Back again. I stopped also to sew the strap on my red lace and chiffon and satin nightie. Also, a white lace pair of panties. Very hard to sew.

Gosh, my handwriting’s a nightmare today.

Anyway, Andy quit Denny’s. He just got fed up with his bitch manager named Linda. So fed up, that this was the first time he quit a job before finding another. Later, I’ll call him to see if he found another one. He was going through today’s paper when we talked earlier.

Yesterday my parents called and Tom answered. My mom started off by saying, “Hi Tom. Do you know who this is?”

Tom guessed Andy and could only pick up on the definite Eastern accent and Ma said something like, “I hope not.”

Tom explained how Andy sometimes disguises his voice. After, Tom said he hoped no one was offended but I’m sure she was cracking up over it.

So they talked about Tom’s job and the main reason they were calling was cuz I said in my letter that I may not be able to call them on the day of my surgery. I guess I forgot to say that Tom will call for me if I can’t. Tom’s going to call them from the hospital during surgery. I had thought one of us would call from here after surgery, but that’s cool.

When Mom asked me if I was learning to cook, Tom jokingly said I was learning how to watch him. Then I told her how I always make his lunch for work and we take turns cooking here. She knows we mainly do microwave stuff and don’t cook every day. Then Ma said Dad doesn’t like her to cook for him every day and I said that’s cuz she burns everything. Dad agreed. Dad said Gloria was there cooking and that she was a lousy cook.

Later…

I just talked to Tammy who wants me to ask Tom if we can copy any games and put Windows on her computer somehow.

Tom’s home now and we’re going to play around in a few. He got our other monitor back from Eldon and soon I’ll have a computer in my room. He really loved how I typed up those tips. They’re fancy, yet very professional looking.

I made him this week’s lunch sandwiches and stuck them in the freezer.

We’re going to send Tammy and Bill and the girls’ computer games, but first I’ll have to call Tammy to see what kind of processor, monitor, etc. she has.

I still haven’t called Andy, but I will later. I still have to tell him how Tom thought mom was him.

This Wednesday we’re going to the Arizona state fair. Can’t wait. The day before he’s going to go to the racetrack to hopefully win money so we’ll have more to take to the fair with us.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 28, 1994 Today my period hit full blast. I think it was the water pills that delayed it those couple of days.

Last night Tom set the computer to capitalize the first letter of each sentence. This makes it quicker and easier to use different fonts. He still needs to set it to cap after a question mark and an exclamation mark, and the beginnings of paragraphs. This way all I have to cap are the i’s and names of people and places. When I go to use the spell check, it corrects i’m into I’m and i’ll into I’ll and stuff like that. He says there’s a way to set the paragraphs. I’ll have to have him show me that and also how to print out envelopes.

Got a Bob letter today and now I’m going to go see if I can get ahold of Kim.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1994 Happy 7th year anniversary to these journals!

This is day two of being late with my period. I called Tammy and told her how I felt like I was going to get it and she said she felt like she was going to get her period too, before she got pregnant. I told her I didn’t want to jump the gun, but that if I did ever find out I was pregnant for sure, I wouldn’t tell Mom and Dad. She said that’d be stupid and that I didn’t have to take any shit from them if they gave us any. Of course, we wouldn’t. She suggested I get an over-the-counter pregnancy test which you can use as soon as you’re only 1 day late. She said she had bad morning sickness with Lisa and it was mild with Becky and Sarah. I forgot the name of it, but she said she has something that numbed her downstairs and they made an incision. Yeah, I’ve heard of that. She didn’t have the shot they give you in the spine. She said it hurts but is worth it.

Again I reminded her that he doesn’t cum and asked her if the chances of me getting pregnant were close to none. She said no. Even though my periods have been normal for quite some time, my body’s entitled to some imperfection, so I may not be. If I am, then that’s just truly amazing for it to be that easy to conceive without the guy cumming. Especially being a DES daughter and thank fucking God I didn’t get pregnant those few other times when guys came. If I am, I believe Tom when he says he’d be as happy as I’d be, but I still have my usual fears and a million questions. Will I have a miscarriage or die having it, if I can have it naturally? Will it ruin what Tom and I have? Can we really afford it? How will my parents react? Will I truly be able to be a good mother and deal with it? Will I be forever fat and a major turn-off to Tom? He’s always been there and true to his word when he said he’d be a good husband. I know he’d be a good father, but what if deep down inside he doesn’t want to have a kid, even though he says he does? What if he’s wrong about saying it won’t ruin us, I can handle it, I won’t turn him off, I will survive it and I won’t be forever fat?

Well, this is only my second day of missing my period, so we’ll wait and see. Thankfully, Tammy was encouraging. She didn’t say shit like, “Why now? Are you sure you want this and are prepared to handle it? What about your surgery?”

Tom says surgery should be no problem in the 1st trimester, but if I have to postpone it, I will. I’ve already been like this for 29 years. If I am pregnant, I will surely want to keep it. It’d be hard to consider abortion even if Tom got on his knees and begged me to, but I know he’d never do that. He’s never fooled me yet, but I know some people can suddenly fool you. I hope he’s happy if I am, though I still have a feeling a kid was never meant to be.

Last night I told Tom I was excited, yet nervous about Kim’s visit and he said he could understand that. Should I cancel her from coming here if I am, so we don’t end up in a fight where he wants to leave me?

Later…

No, I am not pregnant. I just had some spotting. Tammy said she didn’t have that and doesn’t know if it’s possible. Well, like I said, it’s possible for someone to get pregnant if the guy doesn’t cum, but I think it’s very unlikely. Plus, we don’t qualify to be parents. We’re not druggies or assholes. The ironic thing if it was, though, when I was wondering was what Bob said in his letter. He said, “It won’t be long now, will it? Do I know something you don’t? Maybe I do. Who knows?”

I have only a few more pages to type up of Journal #18, but my disk might be screwed up. Tom said not to worry and that all he’d have to do is give me a new disk. Meanwhile, I typed up some tips for him on Windows & DOS from a magazine he wanted to be typed up.

When I read back on Maliheh, I couldn’t believe how vague and shitty a writer I was. I failed to write how she asked me to dance with her the second we met, and she shook my hand. And also, how she kissed me as I was leaving.

Later…

Well, I just got to see another 18-year-old violent, doped-up pregnant girl on a talk show. Now I’ll go continue with Tom’s tip list. I also made up what we call a master copy grocery list.

Got a letter from Kim and typed a reply back. Out of those 50 tips, I have 15 done. Later or tomorrow I’ll type to Bob.

I still have a spot here and there, so I’m 100% sure that tomorrow I’ll have my period full force.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1994 We went to play miniature golf yesterday. It was lots of fun. Just as beautiful as I remembered, and it was peacefully dead. We also played some games in the arcade and Tom won me a stuffed Harley Davidson dog.

When we got home yesterday, I got a Bob letter and talked to Andy. At first he got tons of calls from guys who were mainly losers and now the calls are dwindling. Yup, that’s how it usually works.

I made 3 calendars on the computer for 1995. A copy in each bedroom and one for the back room.

Yesterday we began making a new period chart, but we ran into trouble. We’ll get it done soon, though.

Tom went over to work on David and Evie’s computer.

This morning before work we had some fun. We tried it with me on top again. That’s getting so much easier now too, and I require less and less lubrication. It’s been a while now since I’ve felt sexually deprived and I don’t miss that at all. It’s a good feeling to feel sexually fulfilled.

I was due today for my period, but it looks like this month I’ll be a day late like last month. I can feel it coming on. Well, sort of. My pre-cramps aren’t that bad at all, but the way my boobs feel is another thing. Those don’t feel too bad either, but I’ll be waking up with it tomorrow.

I typed letters to Tammy and my parents and now I’m going to go eat, then maybe work some more on my subindex.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 25, 1994 Yesterday I fell asleep at 4 PM. At 8 PM, I woke up sneezing my ass off for a few minutes. Thank God I fell back asleep till 3 AM, cuz at 10 AM we are going to Castles & Coasters to play miniature golf. I can’t wait. I love miniature golf, that place is gorgeous and we’re overdue for doing something fun.

I also laid out in the sun yesterday for a whole hour just to get no color.

Got the times of all my appointments, too. On 12/5 I forgot my pre-op appointment at 9:30 AM. On 12/6 I have the surgery at 7:30 AM, but we have to be there at 6 AM. On 12/20 I go for my post-op appointment.

Just 15 more days till Kim arrives. I’m psyched but so nervous about it. Please, God, don’t let this cause a major fight between Tom and me!

I’m doing a few loads of laundry now and soon I’m going to make calendars for ‘95 on the computer.

A couple of nights ago when I was talking to Andy, he gave me his sister Marla’s number in CA in case of an emergency. He also tells me for example, “The guy’s message I’m seeing tonight is the third message, just in case of any trouble, cuz you never know.”

For the sake of curiosity, I called Springfield Information to see if I could get Nervous’s new address. Sure enough, he’s at Avon Place. That’s on the south end/downtown line. It’s a scummy area, but slightly better than Pearl St. He and Crystal probably got a 1-bedroom apartment I’ll bet it’s $500 or more. If one of them splits, the other’s going to have a hell of a time paying all the expenses on their own.

I don’t know if I forgot to mention this, or not, but about a week ago I called and played a clip of the edits. I was intending to leave it on their machine which they do have, but she answered. She listened to the whole thing, but that was great cuz it was her that I wanted to hear it. That was her first time ever hearing the edits, I believe.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 24, 1994 NOTE: I identify as bisexual and Andy identifies as gay. Making private cracks about Margaret's appearance had nothing to do with homophobia.

Tom couldn’t sleep, so he just got up a little while ago.

What I went to do earlier was sort the tools. I did about an hour’s worth of sorting and rearranging. I made this week’s lunches for Tom too, and talked with Andy.

He called me up in a so-so mood, but I sure as hell got him laughing his ass off. He was telling me how he got a call from a guy who read his ad and the guy claimed to be straight looking. The second Andy saw the guy, he thought, “Yeah, right. Who the hell ever told this guy he looked straight?!”

I told him how he may have to go through shit like that for a while. Guys will say they look straight and people will give bogus phone numbers.

What really cracked him up was when I told him about that butch Margaret who came up for one night from Westerly, RI. I first talked to her through the 900#.

I told Andy not to be too nice, and to play the same game as everyone else played. Be blunt and don’t give a shit if anyone mistakes your honesty for rudeness.

So anyway, I was telling him how when I was talking to Margaret she said, “My sister’s so feminine. She’s got all kinds of makeup and perfume and jewelry on her dresser in her room. All I have on my dresser is a bottle of deodorant.”

That’s when the buzzer went off and I said, “Wait a minute, I smell butch here.”

He was totally laughing his ass off over that one.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 23, 1994 Tom got up a little while ago, and in an hour or so he’ll be off to work.

He went down on me which I really needed. I’m so horny before my period.

I made us pork chops and tater tots.

Yesterday we laid down the tracks for My Time Has Come. It’s so awesome to be able to walk up to a computer, hit a button and it’ll play the music to my song.

I also did quite a bit of work on my journal subject index (subindex). I’m up to 14 and am using book #81 for it. I’ve got 20 pages done already. Soon I’ll work more on it.

Later…

Tom’s in the shower now.

I forgot to mention another sexual first. At least I think I forgot to. We were lying in bed when he got on top of me and was able to go right in without even guiding it in.

He says sometimes he feels it’d be nice to have a kid in 9 months to 2 years from now. I sometimes feel it’d be nice to have it now, in a few years, and even never.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 21, 1994 Andy called, so I’d gotten cut off in my last entry. Then I watched a little TV, fried chicken, and did dishes.

As I was saying, I was rather bummed that I couldn’t have surgery in Nov. However, Tom reassured me that this would be good cuz work will be slower for him in December, and starting this Saturday, we can lay down some tracks to record My Time Has Come, my signature song, so to speak. It’s just amazing how I’ve got someone here with whom I can combine my dreams. He’s got what I want which is the background/behind-the-scenes know-how. I got what he wants which is a way to promote his programs. All this combined gives us what we want. To do what we both love to do while earning great money. We’re hoping to have the equipment, make the master CD, make tons of copies, and distribute them by early ‘95.

He also mentioned me maybe getting pregnant in early ‘95, too. He said it’s better not to now, due to the surgery, of course, but that if I were, it wouldn’t hurt it as I’d only be in the 1st trimester. True, but I’ll definitely have my period around the 26th when I’m due for it. My boobs aren’t sore, I haven’t had any pre-cramps, but I am slightly watery. I took a water pill earlier.

It took 511 minutes to type journal 17. Wow! That’s only about 8½ hours.

Minnie called at 7:00 last night, but I was still asleep. Tom answered, but she didn’t leave a message.

Tomorrow night Andy and I may go to the mountain.

He’s pretty bummed lately, but hopeful. His ad in the Echo magazine should be out anytime now and he really wants to meet someone bad. He wishes to hell he could have someone like Tom and be like me where he doesn’t have to work or worry about food or money. Or health benefits, as he doesn’t have any.

Monday after 11 AM, I have to call Jackie to get the times I’m supposed to go for my pre-op and surgery. Also, to get a date and time for a follow-up. First she had to give me the dates the doctor was available, then check things out with the hospital. Those dates are OK with the doctor and the hospital, but now we have to get the times. She said they usually like to schedule surgery at 7 AM and have their patients arrive there at about 6 AM.

I called Tammy and let her know, then I called my parents. They weren’t home, so I left a message.

Later…

Last night I began redoing my medley. I like this one a lot better. I’m making sure I keep the songs much shorter. I don’t feel like doing any more editing now of any kind, but perhaps I’ll work on my subindex.

It’s kind of awkward to hold the book on my lap while I type in notes, and the book’s too heavy and big for the music stand. Therefore, I’ll put it against the headboard and do it here in bed where it’s more comfortable. I’ll write my notes in here which probably won’t make much sense till it’s all typed up. Actually, I’m only typing notes. I intend to write to them all in their own journal. It’d be neat to have a journal that’s an index, listing all the important topics that are in each journal. However, I may wish to look up and trace down something of non-importance, too. Well, I’ll do my best. I’m going to refer to my typed-up journals. It’s a lot easier to have a notebook (3-ring), spread out, rather than several journals.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 20, 1994 Today’s been a very dull day. I called to schedule my surgery, but Jackie, the only one who schedules surgery wasn’t there. I have to call back tomorrow at 10:00.

I meant to say yesterday was a dull day. Especially cuz I slept through most of it.

Today I got 2 letters from Bob and 1 from Alex. I hope Kim got her copy of the article from Minnie, as I just sent mine to Bob. He asked for it cuz he hasn’t seen it. He’s going to be pretty pissed. If not, she’ll be here soon, so I’ll let her read the article I copied.

I finished filling up the pages that were available in 75 with letters, so now I’ll fill the remaining 60 pages or so in #7. After that, they’ll go in a box. It’s the box that the CD/tape/radio boom box came in that’s in the back room right by the computer.

Later…

I did a few things during the night. I did dishes, typed letters, typed more of #17, and drew a full-page picture of a lady’s face. It’s only so-so.

Tom showed me a new game called Nibbles, which I call Nipples. It’s where you drive this snake, that’s really a colored line, with the arrow keys and try to get it to eat as many numbers as possible without it crashing into the sides of the screen.

I wish it were 10:00 in the morning!

Tom mentioned us playing Cruel card game when he gets up and also us having some fun. I hear him snoring. Fine from another room, but thankfully not next to me. Yes, I wish we could sleep together, but then again, no I do not cuz it’d never work out. Perhaps someone on Navane or another heavy sleeper such as he is, but not me.

My surgery’s set for December 6th and the day before I’ll have a pre-op appointment. At first I was really bummed as

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 19, 1994 I wish it’d hurry up and be 8 AM! They left a message today while Tom was out with his parents at the racetrack and I was asleep, for me to call to schedule surgery. I hope to hell it’ll be real soon. I’m anxious and can’t wait to get this over with.

Tom said after surgery we’ll discuss quitting smoking, singing, and having a kid. He’s funny at times, cuz the other day I got that so-called feeling which may very well have meant nothing, he said, “Well, I thought that’s what you wanted,” yet now we have to discuss it? Well, I do understand cuz I’m like that a lot, too. I asked what there was to discuss about it and he said, “How, when, and the details.” Well, I can answer the how. If my DES or fate hasn’t sterilized me, he sticks it in there and lets himself cum.

He still feels if I was pregnant my parents would be very happy. I feel they’d be pissed and try to lecture me, but you just never know. They’ve been known to surprise me a few times in the past.

His mom gave me a quilt today. It’s just my size too, made to cover my height.

Andy and that girl Karson left a message earlier which I’ll tape for editing. I haven’t been in the mood yet to edit or redo my medley.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 18, 1994 Now to comment on Bob’s article. Well, it’s still all too hard to believe as it would be if it were about Tom, my parents, or my sister. He couldn’t bar anyone from coming or leaving anywhere. The man’s a total wimp. The only thing I buy is his allowing these girls alcohol. A troubled teen is likely to beg for that and he’s a sucker who can’t put his foot down. The porno movies are a maybe. If a girl begged to see it that saw it lying around, then yeah, I can see him giving in. As for dying his hair. He just doesn’t have so much extra money or the know-how enough to do so. Also, he’s sent regular pictures of himself all the while I’ve been here as his hair grew longer and longer and it was always gray. Too soon for him to have cut off all the dye and regrown his hair. He sent a picture from prison a few months ago with it quite long and gray.

If someone says to a person, “Get alcohol, then pay for it,” it seems to me the person could say, “No, I won’t,” and walk away. That 16 and 17-year-old girl they mentioned was Minnie, according to what she herself told me, and she was actually 18 at the time.

Lastly, it’s ridiculous to not let him own a car cuz a real rapist will try to round up his victims anyway, anyhow, and anywhere he can.

Later…

I forgot to mention one other thing I sewed together. A magazine rack for Tom when he’s in the bathroom taking a dump.

Last night I began doing something on the computer. A subject index of each journal. I was going to do this a while back but didn’t. Well, it’ll take forever, no doubt, but that’s OK. There’s no hurry.

Later…

For the sake of curiosity, I made a list of the states I’ve been to and flown over.

I’ve flown over: New Mexico, Colorado, Oklahoma, Indiana, and Kansas.

I’ve been to: Massachusetts, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, Vermont, Maine, New Jersey, Mississippi, New Hampshire, New York, Maryland, W. Virginia, Tennessee, Rhode Island, Louisiana, Missouri, Ohio, Texas, Arizona, Nevada, Illinois, Florida, Georgia, Alabama, Arkansas, Virginia, Delaware, Kentucky, S. Carolina, N. Carolina.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 17, 1994 Well, well, well. Life’s still full of surprises. Instead of sending me a photocopy of the article, Minnie typed it up on her computer. I didn’t even think she had a computer, but ours is nicer. She doesn’t have any fancy fonts, but that’s OK. By hand, she wrote me a letter. She has nice handwriting, too. I copied it into 75.

Tom was laughing at how she said she’d send me a picture of her at her prom as if we were old buddies. He said he hopes I write back. I did right after I read her letter and the article.

Then, she called and I told her that at first I honestly thought she was full of it. I told that to Bob too, so I’ll have to tell him how I thought wrong. She says she’s sending Kim a copy, too. She’ll appreciate that.

This evening I used old sheets, foam, etc., to make a regular size pillow for the living room. It serves two purposes. One, for it you’re lying on the couch watching the tube. The other’s for Tom to kneel on when we’re doing it on the couch.

I also made him an eyeglass case. He wears his glasses while he’s cleaning out his contacts. I used a white sheet for this, then drew on it an “I Luv U” heart as well as a teddy bear.

Got the Bob article. One thing I can say is that I felt the same way reading it as I did when I read about myself in the paper when I got in trouble in S. Deadfield. A good 95% of it was bullshit.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1994 Last Friday night Andy and I were out from 10 PM-midnight. Tom gave me $9 and we stopped at Circle K and got munchies. We went right to the same spot as we did in the summer of ‘92. That area and Camelback Mountain are really awesome. I saw the praying monk again in the mountain as well as the upside-down face. At one point I said to Andy, “I wonder if one of these houses could belong to the doctor who’s going to do my ear soon?”

I hope his office calls tomorrow for an appointment.

Mary gave us a sewing machine and Marjorie’s going to help us with it.

Tomorrow I have letters to go out to Tammy, Mom and Dad, Kim and Bob. I’m sure I’ll hear from Bob tomorrow.

Yesterday we had some great sex. There’s no pain or pressure at all and I almost came. I cum almost every time he goes down there, but I have yet to cum by him in there. I’m getting closer, so now I can really see and understand where he’s “cumming” from on this issue.

Yesterday I finished typing up 15, so now I’ve got a total of 28 journals typed up. They all total 200 pages. That’s so few pages for so many journals, huh?

Later…

I took out my portable heater, and it does a good job of taking the chill out of the air. It’s cool and raining right now. Now’s the worst time in AZ for people with allergies and asthma. I’ve had a few sneezing spells, but it’s not even close to the misery I suffered back east. Soon the plants with lots of pollen will be going dormant.

I could redo my medley now, but I don’t really feel like it, so I guess I’ll go type up more of #17. That’s the one I’m currently typing. Later!

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1994 Last night I couldn’t fall asleep till around 3 AM. I was just so psyched up cuz of yesterday. I talked to Andy today who was so happy that I was going to “see” out of two ears.

He’s just been hanging out doing his own thing. He’s been feeling bored, lonely and hopeless. Tonight we may get together and go to Camelback Mountain. This way I can help motivate him and for old traditional time’s sake, it’ll be fun. We haven’t done this since shortly after I got here in ‘92. He’ll sit outside on the trunk probably, and do an “interview,” while I’ll be in the car doing my thing.

I think I remembered to write all there is to tell about my ear surgery.

Last night Tom and I were on my bed trying out different positions when I suddenly had a weird feeling come over me. One that felt there was a chance one could get away, if you know what I mean, and get me pregnant. I don’t know why. I know the chances are possible, but I think they’d be extremely low cuz I’m a DES daughter and he doesn’t cum. So then he said, “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Well, it is. I just didn’t think he was ready cuz it’s not ‘96, we’re going into business, I’m having surgery, and I didn’t want to push him. He said he’s always known the possibility is there, he’s not worried and I can’t control him. I wasn’t trying to control him, but now I know not to worry if I do or don’t get any weird feelings. Plus, since I’ve been here, I’ve gone from an 80% accuracy to a 5% accuracy on the so-called things I feel.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 13, 1994 Yes! I’m going to hear out of two ears! I’m so psyched and I have so much to write on the subject. The doctor (Dr. Nielsen) didn’t at all look like I expected. He wasn’t an older, gray-haired guy. He was of middle age. Tom made a good point saying he was old enough to have experience but young enough to have a steady hand. The first thing he said to me was that if he had to choose from a number of people to do this surgery on, it’d be me. We haven’t gotten a date yet, but they’ll be calling soon. We think and hope it’ll be before the year’s out. Maybe even before Thanksgiving, which is on the 24th.

The CT scan looks really good and he’s going to do the skin graft under my arm. He’s almost positive I’ll be able to hear and the risks are only 3% - 5%. He’s going to go in right where the canal’s supposed to be, then find the bone and follow it till he comes across the facial nerve. That he’ll steer clear away from that, naturally.

He even told us why I was born with no ear. He says that when you’re an embryo, your ear canal forms, then closes, then reforms. Mine never reformed. The inner ear did, but not the outer ear.

The operation should only last 3 hours and I should be able to go home that day. There’s only a 10% chance that I’ll have to stay overnight. There’s a 60% chance I’ll have to have another operation in 6 months to a year. Instead of having bandages all over my head, I’ll only have like a huge cotton ball in that area.

The other reason I’m having this operation is just as important as getting hearing and that’s due to the sensitivity I’ve had. He has two theories about why it’s been so sensitive since around 1988. One’s cuz of lots of skin. Your skin on your hand, for example, sheds and regrows. Same with the inner ear, but there’s no place it can shed. He said this commonly takes years after surgery to slowly build up. His other theory is cuz of nerves being cut due to so many surgeries, they grow nodules on the ends of them, causing pain. This also takes years of slowly building up.

It’ll be here in Phoenix next to the regular doctor’s offices at Good Samaritan Hospital. No having to drive 3 hours in the snow like we would to Boston in the mid-70s. Also, no big bandages that go around most of my head where I look like a mummy. For two weeks after surgery, I’ll have to lay really low, then go back to be sure the skin graft took well and that there are no infections. Speaking of infections, he says there could be and could’ve been a low-grade infection going on for quite a while. It made us wonder about that cuz almost all my medical reports tell me I have a high white blood cell count. Surely there are plenty of smokers who don’t get all the infections I did. Especially back east. Plus, I do get dizzy, sluggish, and feverish feeling. Not a lot but enough of the time.

He will have to shave just a really tiny amount of my hair by the frame. That’s OK. They did that in Boston and it was no big deal and didn’t look funny. Not with all this long thick hair.

While I’m so flattered and honored to have Tom be so excited too, it really makes me hate the government even more. Cuz I was on Medicaid and Medicare, and if it were infected, it could’ve eventually killed me as doctors of low-income people could really care less for the most part. Dr. Nielsen said it will no doubt get worse, too.

When we came home, I called my parents who were very happy for me.

Tammy’s really pissed and depressed now, so I typed her a letter so she can read it at her own leisure. I also typed to Mom and Dad and Kim and Bob.

Tom called his mom, as well as Mary. I left Andy a message, but I haven’t heard from him for several days now, so who knows what he’s been up to? I do have more to write about, but it’s been a long day and I’m exhausted.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 12, 1994 God, I feel so sluggish today. Well, maybe it’s cuz I only slept about 6 hours or so. I’m a little bored, even though I’ve done stuff and have more to do.

These are some of the times when I think a kid would be nice. Last night at the mall, which I’ll get to later, made me glad I have no kid. That and how horrible Tammy and others said it was. Despite it all, though, I’ve written off both me and Tom as sterile, until and unless I see differently. I know he likes things the way they are, but maybe in a year or so I’ll suggest that he see a doctor and make sure nothing’s wrong if he really can’t cum. He might be very embarrassed about seeing a doctor, though. Hey, at least he’ll never have to deal with GYNs.

Yesterday Tom was out all day fixing Eldon’s computer. He also took his parents to the racetrack.

Yesterday his mom also fixed one of my favorite skirts that my dad got me. In 1989, Dad took me to get it at Steiger’s in Longmeadow. The waistband was messed up, but she did a wonderful job fixing it. I called her this morning and thanked her and we got to chatting for about 10 minutes or so. She’s got a great memory too, and asked if I was all psyched for tomorrow. Oh, yeah! And I got up at 8:30 today, so there’ll be no problem sleeping tonight. She said she had a doll my skirt would fit on it’s so small and to call her if I had any questions about making quilts. I also was talking to her about music and journal writing. She asked if we had a budding young author here. Nope. It’s just a hobby I do for fun and if that’s ever to change, I don’t know about it yet.

Tom wants me to go through some books to pick out some things to maybe sell called origami. You make things out of paper, like animals, flowers, castles, etc. There was the one where you do the months if you want to make a calendar. I tried October but I really need thicker paper. Something in between paper and cardboard.

Yesterday I got 2 letters from Bob. One was 6 pages, the other was 1.

Kim called last night while we were at the mall. She was bored, still sick with a cold. It was 31º there last night!

At about 6 PM last night was when we went to the mall. We made a ring payment, and he got a computer book. I got a killer deep purple shirt that’s like a T-shirt, but the shoulders are cut out. It’s quite sexy. I got an Indian-like beaded barrette and 3 chokers. They were on sale for only $3 apiece. I got a big bottle of detangler which my hair really needed, and two bottles of lotion. There’s this really neat place called Potions & Lotions where they mix up the fragrance you choose, how strong you want it and what color you want it. You can also get cheaper refills of any fragrance. I got Nilla Musk in green and Nature Scent in pink.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1994 I vacuumed and then mopped the kitchen floor. It really needed it.

I typed up a letter for Bob, as well as the song titles on my medley. The more I hear the medley, the more I don’t like it. Some songs are too long and some have chosen parts I wish I didn’t choose. I’m going to do it again sometime soon and I’ll probably redo Gloria’s medley, too.

I quickly talked to Tammy and I left Andy a message.

It’s gorgeous out today. It’s in the mid-90s and it’s supposed to be that way all week. It’s a bummer, though, cuz the pool’s ice cold.

Kim called last night and still plans to be here in November. She was psyched to hear about my ear, and has a bad cold now.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 9, 1994 Just as I was going to write, Tom came home from work with groceries and with guess what else? A humongous package of all different kinds of pens. There were highlighters and all different kinds of regular pens. Also, the perfect drawing pencils. The kind you click and the lead moves down, so you don’t have to sharpen it. I have 5 of these kinds that all write in black, but the pen turns colors as your fingers grip them. This one’s purple, but changes to pink where your fingertips are.

Later…

Tom and I had a really cool talk the other day. He assured me that everyone’s different and that if he were feeling sexually deprived and unfulfilled in any way, he’d tell me. He reminded me that things didn’t change with me for a long time at one point. Neither one of us ever thought he’d make it in there. I realize now that I shouldn’t be impatient with him and expect him to cum if he doesn’t want to. Andy says he can’t see how he can be satisfied without being able to or allowing himself to cum. Maybe most people can’t get by without cumming, but everyone’s different and again, I believe him when he tells me he’s happy. I told him I wouldn’t try to change him cuz he’s never tried to change me or expect anything of me that I couldn’t or wouldn’t do. I did comment on how it would prevent us from getting pregnant, but he said it wouldn’t. He sounded very sure of that. He’s just waiting till we’re ready for a kid, I think. That’s cool cuz right now we have two things on our minds. Getting me to hear out of both ears and going into business.

He says he’s planning on releasing our first program for sale on November 1st. The picture-printing program. By December 1st he wants to have me sing and record a song. Every Wednesday or so I fill in stuff on the computer calendar that either one of us or both of us have to do. He suggested this as I’m way more organized.

Later…

Right now Tom is napping on my bed. Luckily this bed is wide enough so I can still stretch out and have plenty of room.

Tomorrow there’s no mail cuz of Columbus Day. Or is it Memorial Day? Whatever. I’ve got letters typed up to my parents, Tammy, Kim, and I’ll do Bob’s soon. I’ll mail them out on Tues., though.

I think I’ve pretty much covered all that’s been going on. So, I guess I’ll go do some computer work right now.

Later…

Boy, Tom’s pretty entertaining to observe when he sleeps. I just walked into the room and he said about 3 words I couldn’t make out, then something that sounded like, “Talking to another.” Then, “OK.” Then, “I can handle it.” Then, “Mhm.”

Now I’m using another one of the color-changing pens. I believe there are 5 of them in all, even though they all write in black as I said before. This one goes from a regular shade of green to lime green. Sort of a yellowish-green where I’m holding the pen.

I did some journal typing, as Tom fixed the B drive. I also cooked up some creamy garlic noodles and some spaghetti.

I took the foam mattress off the waterbed cuz I’m sick of it bunching up on me. I’ll wait till I get a king-size one. I also turned the waterbed heater on. In a week or two we’ll be turning on the wall heaters. I’ll also get my little portable one out of my closet.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 8, 1994 Things have been great. Today, I not only typed up all my 13 songs with pretty and different fonts, but I also wrote 3 new songs. Before I copy them in, yesterday we got a wedding card from Mary & Dave with a $100 check. Today we got a card from Boo and Max with a $50 check. We have to crank out a couple more thank-you cards.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 6, 1994 I used up the last of the address labels with my maiden name, so now I’m going to use the remainder of the cat labels with my married name on them. Then I’ve got lots of Adobe labels left, but they’ll only be used for mail. I’ll draw colorful lines as day separators when the cat labels run out. There are about 25 left.

Yesterday I straightened up the back room quite a bit. I even cleaned off a small area by the washer. There was a paper grocery bag with other ones in it that must’ve been there for years. I dumped those and put away some tools.

I saw a movie with Marlee Matlin in it, and Law & Order.

I typed Tammy a letter and wrote postcards to Bob, Kim and my parents. I dusted and vacuumed and did some typing. I’ve been spelling all kinds of words wrong. Like Israel. I’m learning, though (I spelled “though” as "tho" intentionally in my written journals cuz it's easier). The computer’s been very educational.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 5, 1994 I went for my CT scan and hearing test yesterday. There were about 3 different things about it that I didn’t remember from Boston. First she had my head cranked way back and she took 30-40 pictures which seemed to take forever.

When I got on the thing you lay on, it was at the height of a bed. Then, when she went to adjust me for picture number two, I realized I was almost up to the ceiling when I sat up. For the second position, my neck was straight and she put some kind of string or tape across my chin to hold my head still.

Then it was off to another floor for my hearing test. My good ear has worsened a little, but the left is hopeful. There is nerve hearing.

I can’t wait till the 13th.

Later…

Yesterday, after my appointments, we went to JB’s for lunch.

When we got home, I helped Tom build a second computer. It was pretty interesting and fun.

Tom and I both spoke to Tammy who’s really in a bad way now. From the sound of it, Bill may only have a matter of months left. She’s worried about how the hell they’re going to survive and I don’t blame her. We all discussed the possibility of her coming out here, but that’s close to impossible. Especially with 3 kids.

Her visit with Mom wasn’t too great. Even Lisa got upset with her for not staying as long as she said she would. She said Lisa got embarrassed by Mom in some restaurant cuz of the way she went off on some waitress. The bottom line is what it’s always been. She hates kids and will only talk to them about 6 times a year and it’ll probably be another 3 years before both mom and dad go to see her again.

It makes me wonder again if I oughta just cut all contact with them if I ever get pregnant. No kid of mine is going to put up with them if I can help it. Yes, they’ve been wonderful over the phone now for almost a year, but that’d change if I were pregnant, so it’s something to think about should I ever find myself pregnant.

Anyway, I got up at midnight, watched a little TV, made Tom some sandwiches, and crossed off the stuff we got done. I also updated our computer calendar that keeps track of shit we gotta do.

I typed Bob a letter and now Bob, Kim, and my parents have two of those postcards left. I’ll send them over the next couple of weeks.

We’re putting aside money to go to Tammy when she really really needs me the most. That’ll be when Bill dies. Tom will go with me if he can get the time off from work and I hope to hell he can, but if not I’ll go alone.

For the hell of it and out of curiosity, I called Nervous to see if his phone and or the same number still exists with him. He has an answering machine with a prerecorded voice. I just said hi and hung up. I’m glad I discovered he’s got a machine there. God, I wish he had one when he was obsessed with me! I would’ve had sooo much fun with it.

Assuming Crystal’s still there and assuming he’d never dare allow her to hear his edits, which he probably doesn’t have, I’m going to leave a few seconds of them on his machine later. I only hope he hears them, though. I hope if I leave them and they’re both out that he doesn’t come home, get to them first and erase them. Cuz that’s just what he’d do.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 4, 1994 Today's the day I go for my CT scan and hearing test. Hopefully, I'll find out something today, but I'll probably have to wait till the 13th. I'll write about how today's appointment went either later today or tomorrow.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 3, 1994 I sure wish I slept later than I did. I got up at 7:30 PM. Andy left a message saying he can’t “decide” if he likes a certain Gloria song, so that means he’s not sure.

Well, they say everyone’s different and that much is true, but I have a feeling things will never change with him. I have a feeling that if we wanted a kid right now or in the future, we won’t be able to even if I’m not sterile cuz he either can’t or won’t let go. I just wish I knew which one it was. If he can’t cum, I’d like him to find out why. If he won’t cum, I wish he’d just come out and say, “Hey, I don’t prefer to cum. All I want to do is get hard.”

At the same time, I believe he is attracted to me, I feel I’m not pleasing to him cuz I’m confused and I don’t know for sure what’s going on. Not knowing is hard, but maybe there’s a third party involved. Whether or not he’s deliberately holding back, maybe whatever’s up there has a major control on this to keep me from getting pregnant. But then again, couldn’t it just sterilize me or make sure he doesn’t cum when I’m ovulating? The more I think about it, the more questions I have and the more confused I get, so I’m just going to keep on going about my life as I have been and try not to dwell on it. If in another year to a year and a half, nothing’s changed, then perhaps I oughta talk to him about seeing what a doctor has to say about it. I don’t know, but I really think it’s me. There’s something about me as a person (not my body) that turns him off. Perhaps it’s my aggressive nature and also fear of being a father too soon. I think he does was to be a dad but in a couple of years. This is what he told me, too. I also have a feeling he may never want to be, so due to this, he’ll keep on holding back.

He can’t keep that up forever, though, so if he’s the one preventing himself from cumming, he’s going to have to deal with it with me someday, as he can’t always make excuses. I can’t always be “new” to him, so if one of my theories is correct, I hope he talks about it.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 2, 1994 We now have the AC shut off for the year and now the swamp cooler is on. It feels great and I wish it had this feeling at the peak of the summer. The air’s so fresh and clean and my lungs are great.

Tom trimmed a half-inch off my hair yesterday and every 6 weeks or so we’ll do this.

I went through all my makeup and ditched some old stuff I’d had for ages. I really should get new mascara as I’ve had the one I’m using now for over a year.

We accomplished a lot yesterday. We finally sorted all our mail and papers. I do whatever I want with my mail, but when the mail comes in, Tom tosses what he doesn’t want and I file the rest. We also planted the 5 cactus plants around the pool yesterday morning. They look great.

I was surprised that next door was so quiet. I hear them occasionally when I go out back, but lately I’ve been blessed by the absence of them and across the street. Well, more than lately. They’ve all been quiet for several months. At least I know I have the fan and the music as a weapon against whatever if I need it.

Did I mention that I finished the medley? I’m sure I did, but anyhow, it’s got some parts I could’ve done better, but it’s great for the most part.

Tom said don’t worry about botching up his movie as it’s on a lot. Yeah, I’ve seen it listed quite frequently, but it’s not on this week. He said I should record more stuff to get my confidence back. Well, I haven’t checked to see yet if the two movies I taped came out OK, but I’ll soon see.

Right now I think I’ll go have some coffee, then I’ll write more later. First though, the B drive on the computer’s broken. That’s the drive I used for my journals, so now if I do anything with them I’ll use the C drive. That’s pretty much the main drive. I use it for letters and other stuff.

Later…

Sex for us is getting more frequent which is great and the sex is always great. For me. I’m still confused when it comes to Tom. He sure as hell acts like he likes it and he always gets rock-hard and tells me how sexy I am. I do believe him when he tells me I’m sexy, and not just cuz I want to.

I can’t cum by penetration alone, and I know everyone’s different and that’s fine. It’d also be just fine if he came out and told me he doesn’t want to cum. There are things he knows I don’t want to do. Like go down on him, so that I can understand. Also, I’d understand if he had a physical problem that affected him sexually. The big question still remains. Did he lie to me when he said he came those two times when nothing came out? He says he didn’t cum much anyway, but then why was he worried about messing up my sheets?

I toyed with the idea that he was holding back so as not to get me pregnant, but he couldn’t get me pregnant by cumming in my hand. Then I realized that maybe he felt it’d look funny if he only came in my hand out of not wanting to get me pregnant and I’d think my pussy just wasn’t good enough like my hand would be. Maybe he feels that’d look a little obvious. It really scares me to admit to myself that he could be lying about this. If he is, and I do say if, I hope he’ll someday soon have the heart and the courage to tell me why. Why? I’ve never caught him in a lie before. There’s only one other thing he’s ever said that I doubted. He said he could sleep through sounds if he knew what it was and who.

He slept through them moving in next door, raising holy hell in the front here, but he couldn’t sleep through Kim, Phil, Alex and I? Hmm…

I thought of asking Tammy and Andy for their opinion for a long time, but then I thought that’d be uncool to involve them. Then I realized two things. One is that they wouldn’t get involved and two is that they’d keep my question a secret. I finally broke down and asked Tammy if it was possible for a guy cum “dryly.” Her answer was, “Not to my knowledge is it possible.”

I asked Andy on his machine.

Tammy said Lisa got the letter Tom sent her and was very pleased. For a while there I was wondering if he was really going to write and send it.

Later…

The movies I taped came out OK. I listened to some music and just made myself some coffee. Soon I’ll be conking out. My stomach’s a little better, but I still get waves of pain here and there.

I hope Andy leaves me a message tonight. I told him that if the answer to my question is no to say, “No, I don’t like whatever song by Gloria.” he’ll say “yes,” he likes it if the answer’s no.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1994 My day had been going just fine but right now, I’m so mad I could scream. I was taping two movies for both of us and what did I do? Fucked up as usual and just like I did earlier when I went to tape something. Why can’t I do the simplest things right? Is something trying to tell me not to watch TV? Should I tell Tom and Andy not to bother to depend on me? Should I quit recording stuff for myself?

Well, there is good news and that’s that my medley’s done. There are 193 songs. None of Gloria, though, as she has her own medley. I’ve got a variety of stuff from dance/pop, country, instrumental, disco, oldies, etc.

[maybe-theres-hope]

Tarlos ficlet - “You Like My Costume?”

For all y'all firefighter!Carlos babes :) 

@howtosingit @pragmaticoptimist34 and anyone else who likes this kind of thing <3

1.6k | ao3

TK is actually kind of bummed to be working on Halloween.

Sure, it’s not like he has to work Thanksgiving this year--he somehow finagled the day off and he has yet to tell Carlos that he will be making a surprise visit to the ranch for dinner and he absolutely can’t wait to see his fiancé’s face when he walks in--but he was kind of looking forward to doing the cutesy couple’s costume thing. He’s a sucker for that kind of thing, and he’s bummed, okay?

They’re out on a call that’s frankly more of a time waster than anything else since the fourteen year old in question wasn’t actually suffering from alcohol poisoning but rather he’d yarfed because his friends had dared him to drink a teaspoon of dish soap--honestly, kids these days--so things are looking pretty mellow so far for the evening. He half expected full-moon level type calls tonight but in all honesty he’s been kind of bored. Which really makes it doubly crappy to be working. There’s not even any excitement. 

“At least we’re off at 11, you’ll get to see the last of the trick-or-treaters,” Nancy says with a smirk. 

“Who trick-or-treats at 11 p.m.?” he asks. “By then it’ll just be the dumb teenagers TP-ing old people’s houses and that’s if anyone actually does that anymore.”

“What, you’re too old and married for those kinds of shenanigans?”

“Screw you, I’m not old, and I’m not married yet,” he quips back at her.

“Mmmhmm. Coulda fooled me.” She’s smiling her mischievous smile, the one she gets when she’s contemplating how to jump-scare him in the bunk room in the middle of the night because one time he yelped in such a high-pitch that she nearly peed herself laughing, and she’s been trying to recreate it ever since. 

“Hey, the thrill is not gone, I can promise you that.” Now it’s his turn to smirk back at her.

“Ugh ugh, okay, don’t wanna hear about it.” She waves her hands in front of her face like she’s shooing away fog. “And TK? I mean that. Whatever it is you’re going to be doing tonight, I never wanna hear about it, okay? Just...please. Keep it in the bedroom. Everyone’s going to be making enough assumptions as it is.”

He turns to look at her from the driver’s seat, puzzled. “What do you mean, tonight? What’s so special about tonight and why are people making assumptions? Carlos had to work until half an hour ago anyway, so we’re probably both going to just pass out when I get home. Also, what do you mean ‘assumptions’?”

She just smiles at him again. “Just drive, Strand.”

When he pulls the rig into the bay at ten minutes past eleven, TK just wants to shower and collapse. Boredom held out for only so long before giving into three separate calls where the patient coded on the backboard. He’s tired, he’s hungry, and he feels like he will never be clean of all the sweat. His fingers are aching and his shoulders are sore. He’s never been more ready to just slip into their sheets at home and pass into blissful oblivion. He can’t even make himself look up from the floor as he walks toward the locker room. 

“Hey TK! Why don’t you say hi to the new probie?” Mateo’s voice is nearly a giggle, and it actually causes TK to lift his head. With great effort. 

“Huh? We have a new probie? Whose first shift is on Halloween? Who did he piss off to manage that?” TK asks, following Mateo through the kitchen.

It’s Paul who answers from where he’s leaning against the archway leading back into the bay where the ladder truck is parked. “No one. You might be a little peeved that he took your old turnout gear, but I really, really doubt that.”

“What?” Now TK is just thoroughly confused. 

“Yeah,” Marjan says when he rounds the corner, “and it doesn’t fit him all that well, but I also highly doubt you’ll be upset about that either.” She’s practically glowing with mirth. 

“Okaaaay...what’s with everyone? Is this some kind of Halloween prank? Is someone going to jump out and scare me?”

“Trust me, it won’t scare you. Just...don’t scar the rest of us once you see it. Behave yourself until you get home,” is Nancy’s last line before she turns and practically runs up the stairs. 

TK darts his gaze around to the rest of them, brow furrowing. 

“Just go, man. We’ve been keeping this from you for like a week and we want to see the fruits of our labor,” Mateo says, shoving at TK’s shoulder so that he walks toward the ladder truck.

Still confused and slightly nervous, TK rounds the back of the truck and looks around to see what it is they’ve conjured up to prank him with. He scans the floor, wondering if someone in a scary mask will slide out from under the truck. He moves around to the other side while still in the team’s line of sight, looking back at them for some kind of indication that he’s on the right track. Marjan points subtly up and he follows with his gaze. 

His mouth goes instantly dry and his breath stops. He might gasp, but he can’t be sure.

“Hi babe. Happy Halloween,” Carlos croons in a low voice, though he’s blushing slightly which removes some of the effect. 

TK can only stare. His old turnout gear, indeed.

His fiancé his perched on top of the truck, casually leaned against the ladder and looking down on him. His hips, clad in baggy pants only held up by bright suspenders are slipped forward just so, inviting TK’s eyes to travel up the long line of his glorious body. The AFD t-shirt is straining at the seams, defining every muscle in his abs and pecs, the suspenders caressing against the hard planes of his chest, peeking out from the turnout coat hanging open. 

When Carlos notices where TK’s eyes have gone, he lifts himself out of his ridiculously sexy lean to stand and shrug out of the coat. How on earth anyone can make the removing of standard-issue PPE look so goddamned alluring, TK will never know. The movement causes Carlos’ shoulders to flex, and the cotton of the t-shirt nearly gives out. TK catches a peek of his own name in bright orange lettering across the back of the coat before it’s casually flipped over one massive shoulder, clinging to one finger. 

“I...holy shit,” is all he can say. He has been robbed of his entire vocabulary. He can hear his team snickering at him from the kitchen, but he pays them no mind. The view from here is much better. 

Carlos blushes a bit more, and tosses the coat down to TK, who catches it dazedly. Then, he watches as his absolutely gorgeous fiancé nimbly climbs down the footholds on the side of the truck like he’s done it a thousand times before, and between drooling and sucking in subtle breaths of air TK’s eyes are drawn directly to his ass. It’s a marvelous sight. 

Dropping down lightly onto the floor with a tiny bounce in his step, Carlos turns to face TK in all his glory. TK’s gaze once again runs the gambit from his shoulders down his torso, right down to his own spare pair of boots. 

Carlos saunters closer, knowing full well what he’s doing and loving every minute of it, the bastard. “So, babe,” he says in that same low voice, closer this time. “You like my costume?”

TK still can’t really form words. He might stutter a bit, but he’ll deny it later.

Carlos leans in close--presumably to deter their audience from hearing his next words, which are whispered directly into TK’s ear. 

“I chose to dress up as your secret fantasy,” he says, his lips caressing the shell of TK’s ear. He shivers, though from the words or the touch or the outfit or all of the above, TK can’t say. The next words he hears don’t help matters much.

“What do you say I rescue you from work? Take you home and give you some mouth-to-mouth?” 

TK can hear the desire behind the words, but he can also hear the tiniest giggle at the blatant dirty talk that Carlos actually doesn’t do that much of, and it makes his heart melt. This man is everything.

When he regains some coherency, TK decides to give back as much as he’s gotten. He runs his hands down Carlos’ torso, nearly dropping one suspender completely off his shoulder with his vigor in grabbing a handful of pectoral muscle. 

He leans back in and says into Carlos’ ear, “Well, have you still got your uniform in your car? It might be a bit big on me, but I think I’d look good in nothing but your utility belt. Should I handcuff you to the bed, firefighter Reyes?”

He leans back just enough to catch Carlos scrunching his eyes shut and biting his lip--desire written into every line of his face--and suddenly remembers their audience. This is not a free show, no matter how much help they provided Carlos in surprising TK with this. “Take me home, now.”

“You got it, babe.” With that, Carlos bends down, grabs TK by the waist, and lifts him like he weighs nothing. TK is thrown over his shoulder in a full fireman’s carry to the tune of his team, his friends, whistling and catcalling as he’s carried off to Carlos’ car. 

Yeah, this is a good Halloween. Maybe the best one yet. 

[icarus-suraki]

for the halloween asks: bat, cemetery, ghoul, king, mysterious, spell aaand gory, as a freebie ;)

Bat - What’s your favorite creature associated with Halloween?

I got your bat right here!

Cemetery - Have you ever gone ghosthunting? If not, would you?

I’ve never gone, alas. But would I go? Yes. The closest I’ve come was a presentation at the library from a group of local ghost-hunters that I had to set up and coordinate. They came in with all their videos and photos and audio recordings and all this good stuff, which was neat. I’m a major skeptic though, and I was not all that impressed with some of their “evidence.” But it was fun.

Unfortunately they also told a long story about investigating some off “activity” in a recently-constructed house. So no deaths, not a lot of time for residual stuff, not a place one would expect activity. But there was a teenage girl who lived in the house. I’m sitting in the back of the conference room like “Ah ha! It’s her. Teenage girls and poltergeist activity go way back.” But no. They claimed they’d tracked the energy back to the girl’s closet where she had one of those plastic reproduction Death Note notebooks. She’d written someone’s name in it, whatever--I mean, I had one of those notebooks, we all wrote each other’s names in it. And these Serious Ghost-Hunters were just sure that this thing, this “Death Note,” was the source of all the energy and activity. No, guys. You’ve fallen for the equivalent of standing under an A/C vent and thinking it’s a cold spot.

They did talk about visual snow for a while, which was different. And a woman in the audience talked to them after for quite a while (I was nearby because I needed to pack up the chairs) about how she felt like there was someone with her, like a ghost or something, and she thought it was this former boyfriend who had died and whatever whatever. The ghost-hunters seemed to think, yes, it was him and I think she asked them to come out to her house for investigations.

Anyway, even though I’m a huge skeptic and I will pick apart any photo, video, or audio evidence of “ghosts,” it would still be fun to be like “Yeah, but what if--?” and go out looking for ghosties.. 

Ghoul - What’s your favorite horror/Halloween song?

Without a doubt, “Beast of Blood” by Malice Mizer

It just 100% my Halloween/secret-inner-goth aesthetic. Red-black-white color scheme, Gothic Aristo and Lolita outfits, beautiful people with beautiful eyes, mysterious and dreamlike set of images... It’s perfect. I used the MV as inspiration for a half-written Godchild fanfic.

King - What’s your favorite Halloween tradition?

You mean, like, locally/personally or like in general? I’ll go with personal traditions. Actually, it’s more a familial tradition. Actually it’s two familial traditions.

We’ve got this vintage early 1980s slightly country-style fabric witch that we’ve hung on the fireplace for as long as I can remember. She’s riding on a broom almost in profile and she’s got to be, like, two feet across. She’s called Vick Vitch because the Wicked Witch figures as a character in the children’s book Each Peach Pear Plum and my brother couldn’t quite say “Wicked Witch” yet and it came out as “Vick Vitch.” It’s been nearly 40 years since she was named Vick Vitch and we still refer to her as Vick Vitch. 

(In recent years, my mom has made a small sign to hang nearby that says, “Yes I can drive a stick.”)

Besides that, my mom will always make this kind of ground beef and vegetable soup. She started making it when I was old enough to go out trick or treating, I think. It’s just an easy thing to make: brown the meat, add water and bullion, throw in frozen vegetables, throw in canned tomatoes, add a few spices and a bay leaf, then let boil. It can just simmer on the stove for hours, so she’d make it on Halloween night because she (or my dad but usually her) would be up and down all through supper answering the door for trick or treaters. She could just ladle up a bowl for each of us and that was it. We were good. We literally refer to this soup as “Halloween soup” now. We can eat it at Christmas and we’ll still call it “Halloween soup.”

A more recent tradition is that my dad and I will make some kind of goofy, electronic Halloween decoration. Like a little LED pumpkin. Or a black foamcore board bat with red LED eyes. It’s nothing for him to pull out a bunch of LEDs from his supplies and solder a little circuit together. It’s great.

I also like carving pumpkins pretty well. I like designing the pattern to cut.

Mysterious - What’s your favorite unsolved mystery?

Why must you ask me this??? This is such a hard question to answer because there are just so many fascinating unsolved mysteries. I’ve literally got a massive, massive “unsolved mysteries” iceberg in my drafts--and they’re not all murders or missing people either. Some are science and philosophy. And I don’t know all the topics on the list as it goes down further--for once. It’s got all the classics (Yuba County 5, Black Dahlia, Hinterkaifeck, the Monster of Florence, Taman Shud/the Somerton Man, Ted Cruz the Zodiac Killer, the Boy in the Box...) but there’s some weird, weird stuff in there. 

I guess... Hmm... If I’m going to pick one, I really like D.B. Cooper. No one (except maybe Cooper) died, no one was hurt, the plane landed, everyone go out, and it’s just such a bonkers story. I know intellectually that Cooper probably died after jumping out of the plane in a storm. But in my heart I want him to have survived. 

My favorite pet theory about D.B. Cooper is that he was actually a trans woman. She had transitioned at some point before the hijacking but could pass as a man (having presumably done so for years). So she disguises herself as a man, passes herself off as a man, carries out of the hijacking, escapes, survives, and then goes on living as a herself. The FBI, the CIA, the police--everyone’s looking for a man, so she goes undetected for the rest of her life (maybe she’s still living, I don’t know).

Addendum: her name was Barbara Dayton!

I read about this one I think in 2016, when the FBI formally suspended the investigation.

Not gonna lie: I do think of Cooper as a kind of folk hero. I almost wish this one was never solved.

Spell - What kind of magical power would you like to have?

I’m so basic but my longtime answer is “to be able to fly.” Anymore I think it would be so cool to be able to shapeshift. Want pointed ears? Got it. Want wings? Got it. Want to be the hottest possible version of yourself but another gender? Got it. That would be amazing. That would be entertaining to no end.

Gory - Do you like horror?

Are you really asking me if I like horror? Are you really asking me if I like horror? 

Of course I do. Don’t be silly. I’m a bit picky about it, not because I get squicked or upset by a lot of things (I have one (1) thing that really gets me in visual horror media) but because sometimes the work or piece of media is just...boring. I’m not a huge fan of horror novels and stories but that’s mostly because they don’t seem all that horrific. It might be because they’re obligated to explain or overexplain elements of the story--much like creepypasta stories or horror ARGs or horror YouTube channels end up doing. The Backrooms were more unnerving before there was all this fucking lore attached to them. But on the whole, yeah, absolutely, I’m a complete fucking sicko and I like horror. 

Spooky Season Asks!

[winterscaptain]

a real hero.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: so about five of you asked about 6x06, devil’s night, when jack dresses up as his dad for halloween. when y’all make the call, i deliver! here’s just over a thousand words of total fluff, thrown together in about an hour (please forgive my errors and tell me what you think!). this stands alone, but i’m throwing it in the ajf pile for good measure, as well!

words: 1.2k warnings: language

summary: “we're taught to expect unconditional love from our parents, but i think it is more the gift our children give us. it's they who love us helplessly, no matter what or who we are.” ― kathryn harrison, the kiss

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

“..today it rivals only Christmas in terms of popularity.” Spencer and Emily come into the round table room, and you suppress a smile. 

If you know anything about Spencer, it’s that his love for Halloween knows no bounds. 

Emily sits down next to you, explaining, “All I asked was what he was planning to do this weekend.” 

You hide your laugh in your file, looking at Hotch over the top of the folder. There’s the smallest pull in the corner, the threat of a dimple. He looks up at you, and the dimple appears for just a split second before disappearing again. 

+++

Aaron’s anxious as you all wait for the go-ahead from air traffic control. He keeps checking his watch, and his leg bounces under the table. You’re the only two still in the cabin, the others took two other cars and are apparently taking their damn time to arrive from the precinct. 

You throw a Hershey’s kiss at him. He jumps and looks over at you. 

“What’s wrong?”

He sighs. “I’ve never missed a Halloween with Jack. I’m just nervous we aren’t going to make it back in time, is all.” 

You offer him a little smile. “You’ll make it back.” 

Just then, his phone rings and he answers it. “Hotchner.” A smile breaks across his face. “Oh hi, bud. Yeah. We’re almost in the air...Just a couple more hours...What?” He looks at you, and you furrow your brow. “...Let me ask.” 

He covers the mic. “I’d imagine people in their twenties have better ways to spend Halloween than with an over-excited five-year-old and his boring dad, right?”

You snort. “Hell no. I’m in.” 

And it was true - you didn’t have anywhere else better to be, and the lights in your house were already dark and had plans to stay that way to deter trick-or-treaters. There was no better way, in your opinion, than to spend Halloween with an overexcited five-year-old and his (allegedly) boring dad.

He shakes his head with a little smile and returns the phone to his ear. “Yeah, bud. We’re on for the three of us.”

+++

You sit on the floor of Jack’s bedroom, having been dragged in by two of your fingers immediately upon entering the apartment. He told his dad to wait in the dining room and closed the door behind him, so you imagine he has some serious business to discuss with you. 

“I don’t want to be Spiderman.” 

Your brow pinches. “Why not, bud?”

“The costume’s itchy and he’s not a real hero.” 

You hum, thinking. “Are there any real heroes you want to be, or do we want to toss out the hero idea entirely?”

He considers the options carefully, the pinch of his mouth starkly reminiscent of Haley. “I think I want to still be a hero.” 

“Okay. Do you want to come up with some ideas? We still have a little bit of time.”

A little bit of time was pushing it - Aaron wanted to get going before it got too dark out, giving them time for a movie before bed after Jack acquired his haul in the neighborhood. 

An idea comes to him, lighting up his face. “Can you get one of Dad’s ties? They’re…” he looks up, remembering, “...hung up on the front of the bathroom door in his room or inside the closet by the light switch.” 

“Of course.” You kiss his head, shutting the door behind you. You sneak down the hall and open Aaron’s door, trying to be as quiet as possible. 

“You know,” comes a voice from the dining room, “I can hear you?”

You throw your head around the door frame. “No, you can’t!” ...And shut the door behind you.

In Aaron’s room, you find the little hanging tree with all his ties, finding one of the red ones he wears all the time and one of which he has about five near-identical versions, just in case something happened out in the wild. 

You have half an idea of what Jack’s planning, but your only job right now is to follow instructions.

You throw the tie over your shoulder and make a play at sneaking back into Jack’s room while Aaron’s amused huff chases you down the hall. 

Closing the door behind you again, you told up your prize. “I got it.” 

Jack turns around, wearing the suit he got for Haley’s service. It’s only a little small on him, but he’ll probably lose the jacket anyway, working up a sweat even in the chilly Fairfax fall. “I’m gonna be Dad.” 

A little smile pulls at you, and for some reason, there’s part of you that wants to cry a little. Nevertheless, you pull it together quickly, kneeling in front of him to tie the tie. “I think that’s a great idea.” 

Jack puts his little hands over yours. “Can I try it?”

“Mhmm.” You put your hands in your lap, watching him fruitlessly tie knots, trying to get that crisp line Aaron manages every morning. When he gets a little frustrated, you ask, “Do you want some help?”

He nods, looking up and away as you undo his handiwork, giving him a four-in-hand knot that won’t eat him alive. You tighten it just enough to tuck under his collar, smoothing his jacket and fixing the ducktail sticking out of his shirt. 

“Ready?”

He nods, and you open the door. Jack tucks behind your legs. “Dad, don’t look at me!” 

Aaron, ever faithful, has his back turned right where you both left him in the dining room. “I’m not looking! Are you almost ready? ...Need any help?”

You nod at Jack, and he goes into the hallway. “No.”

“Okay.” 

You keep your distance, leaning up against a free spot on the photo wall as Jack steps into the dining room. 

“Whoa,” Aaron says, clearly surprised. “That is definitely not Spiderman.” He looks at you, but you don’t give anything away, a little smile on your face. 

“He’s not a real superhero,” Jack explains. 

“He’s not?” Aaron looks entirely the part of the confused father at the moment, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, a questionable orange-ish sweater. It almost makes you laugh. “Okay. I give up. Who are you supposed to be?”

You can hear the grin in Jack’s voice. “I’m you, Daddy.” 

Aaron’s face softens and he walks over to his son, embracing him before picking him up. He looks at you over Jack’s shoulder. “Was this your idea?”

You shake your head. “All him. I only filched the props.” 

Aaron shakes his head with a little smile you can’t read. Redirecting, he grabs his keys and his wallet with one hand, shoving them in his pocket. “Let’s go get some candy, my little G-Man.”

You grab your coat and Aaron’s from the coat tree, the bucket for Jack’s goods, and follow the boys out the door. You lock the door behind you, finding both of them waiting for you at the end of the apartment hall.

There’s no thought to what the other twenty-somethings are doing tonight. 

Nothing could be better than this. 

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless​ @jdougl-love​ @sageellsworth05​ @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile  @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @spencerelds @the-falling-in-the-danger @nattylite49 @crazyshannonigans @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43

[theladyofdeath]

Scary Movies {Elorcan}

31 Days of Halloween: Day 11.

All installments co-written with @snelbz​

Based on a prompt sent in by anon: “ever since we were kids its been our tradition to binge watch horrible scary movies on halloween, go get the popcorn ready, wait this is much scarier than I remember, hold me”

Autumn/Halloween 2020 {Collection}

Elide looked at her coffee table and smiled. Pizza, popcorn, red vines, and beer. It was the same food, every year, except Coke had eventually turned into alcohol. 

A tradition.

Elide’s favorite of the entire year. 

It had started in middle school, when they decided that they were too old and cool for trick-or-treating. A scary movie, they took turns deciding. Between getting terrified and getting stomach aches from all they consumed, it created a magical evening.

Now, ten years after their first scary movie night on Halloween, Elide was hosting, and Lorcan was running late.

She looked at the clock on her apartment wall and sighed. If he didn’t show up soon, she’d call him, and yell at his ass.

Elide was on her way back from the back bedroom, having grabbed a couple of blankets from the spare room’s closet when a knock came on her door. She slowed and came to a stop.

Lorcan had a spare key, he could— and would— just let himself in. Not to mention, she’d left it unlocked for him. That realization left her all the more wary with what time of night it was.

Making her way over to her door, Elide reached up on her tiptoes to look out the peephole and she saw—

Nothing.

There was nothing and no one in the breezeway.

Cautiously, Elide opened the door and as she took a step out—

Heavy boots stomped on the concrete next to her as someone jumped out and yelled quietly.

The scream that left Elide was decidedly not quiet.

She threw the blankets up and when her heart rate had decelerated enough that she could breathe, she found Lorcan doubled over, hands on his knees, laughing his ass off.

“Not funny, asshole,” she muttered, not stopping to pick up the blankets.

“Very funny, actually,” he said, taking a deep breath as he righted himself and followed her into the apartment.

“I thought you were a…” Elide’s words trailed off as she shook her head.

She was flustered.

“A what?” Lorcan asked, still grinning as he snatched up the blankets and carried them inside. “A late trick or treater? A murderer? If I was a murderer, I wouldn’t come here on Halloween, El. Way too cliché.”

Her lips pursed together as she shut the door.

And locked it.

Lorcan kicked off his boots just inside of the door before passing into the living room and whistling at her set up.

“You’ve spoiled me,” he said, falling back into her couch. “Now I almost feel bad for scaring the shit out of you.”

“You should,” Elide pushed. “I’m almost thinking about tossing the red vines.”

Lorcan’s grin faded. “Don’t you dare.”

She couldn’t stay mad at him, not if she tried, so instead she flopped down next to him, tucking her Halloween-themed, Boo! fuzzy socks underneath her. “Alright, house rules apply. What movies did you bring?”

Once they got their own places, they added a few more nuanced rules to the list. The person who’s house the movie was at got to make the final decision, but the other got to pick the three choices.

Lorcan ticked them each off on a finger as he named them. “The new It, the original Halloween, or Teeth?”

“Not It,” Elide said, shaking her head vehemently. “And you’re an asshole for putting it in the lineup.”

An unfortunate incident at a county fair had scarred Elide for life and now she was terrified of not only clowns, but also the Tilt-A-Whirl and she couldn’t eat cotton Candy anymore. It was a long story and Lorcan knew every second of it, because he’d been there, laughing his ass off then, too.

Lorcan chuckled and said, “Fine, not It.”

“And we watched Teeth when we were like fifteen. I was convinced you weren’t ever going to look at a vagina the same.”

“My fifteen-year-old boy hormones overrode the horror very quickly,” he chuckled. “So Halloween?”

“Halloween,” she agreed. “Put it in.”

“So demanding,” he mumbled, but did as she asked, nonetheless.

He was sitting back beside her as the menu played in no time. After selecting play, he had a beer and his red vines open. 

“Don’t get too scared,” Lorcan muttered, mouth full of candy. “I want you to be able to sleep tonight. Remember, it’s just a movie.”

Elide nudged him with her foot, fluffy sock and all. “Shut up.”

He grinned, unable to control himself. “Don’t you remember our first scary movie night?”

Elide groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“You nearly pissed yourself,” he said, reminding her, anyway.

Elide scoffed. “I screamed once.”

“And cried twice and begged me to turn it off,” he said, chuckling.

“Why am I friends with you?” She muttered, snuggling back into the blankets and pillows, propping her feet up on the couch. The bottoms of her feet pressed up against his sweatpants-covered thigh.

Lorcan didn’t say anything else, just quietly laughed to himself as he leaned over and turned the lamp off, plunging the room into near darkness.

The beginning of the movies were never scary to Elide, even if the killing started out right away. At the beginning, she could still tell herself it was just a movie. It was as the movie went on, when she found herself immersed in it, that she began to get nervous.

That nervousness continued as she laid awake in the middle of the night, alone. 

Every few minutes, she glanced over at Lorcan. At one point, his eyelids were drooping, and she had no idea how he could be relaxed during such a suspenseful film.

Elide had just cracked open her third beer when Lorcan mumbled, “Crying yet?”

“No, jackass,” she muttered, sipping from the can and clinging to her blanket. She couldn’t help but glance at her living room windows to make sure no one was standing just outside.

Elide didn’t realize just how buzzed she was until she stood to use the restroom. She took one unsteady step before Lorcan paused the movie. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve just got to run to the bathroom, you can let it play,” she replied.

“No, I can’t,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You’ll miss something.”

“I’ve seen it,” she replied, chuckling.

“Yeah, but we haven’t seen it together. That’s a crucial point.”

She rolled her eyes and said, “Fine, I’ll be right back.”

She heard him get up and rifle through her kitchen cabinets, probably looking for something else sweet. As if the entire pack of red vines he’d already consumed wasn’t enough.

When she came back though, she paused. He was in her spot, with his feet propped up, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world as he drank a beer.

Elide cleared her throat.

“Hmm?”

“You’re in my spot,” she said, hands on her hips.

Lorcan looked over at her, one brow raised. “We have spots, now?”

“I’ve always sat in that spot literally every time you have ever come over here. Which is a lot.”

Lorcan shrugged. “I figured we could change it up a bit. I have longer legs. I should be able to stretch my legs out.”

“Your legs are practically hanging off,” Elide protested.

Lorcan blinked. “Not the point.”

With a loud, dramatic sigh, Elide was stumbling back over to the couch.

Lorcan snorted. “You’re drunk.”

“I'm not drunk.”

“How many beers have you had?”

She paused. “A few.”

Lorcan’s grin widened. “You’re drunk.” 

“Am not.”

“Had to get drunk to make it through the scary movie, huh?” he teased. 

Elide was caught between saying am not and fuck you, and her statement ended up coming out as, “Fuck not.” 

Lorcan tossed his head back against the cushions as he laughed. “Drunk Elide has arrived.” 

She sat down in his spot and kicked her feet up on his lap. She was expecting him to shove them off or make a joke about them stinking or something else classically Lorcan. So when he gently took one in his hand and began massaging it, she stopped paying attention to a single thing happening in the movie.

His hands on her were enough to cause that, and if she could just—

A scream rang out from the tv and Elide gasped, turning her attention back to the movie, as Jamie Lee Curtis tried to out run Michael Meyers.

When Elide looked back over at Lorcan, he was looking decidedly smirky.

“Fuck off,” she muttered.

“Don’t you mean fuck not?” he asked, those hands still massaging her sore ankle. 

Elide hated herself for smiling at him. Hated that she loved the way he was smiling at her. She hated his little jokes and snide remarks. Hated that his massages felt so damn good.

The movie on the screen continued, and Elide had found Lorcan’s hands on her ankle incredibly interesting as the tense music played loudly from the surround sound speakers.

Soon enough, the movie was over and Elide was wondering how an hour and a half slipped by so quickly.

“Do you want to watch another?” She asked, as he stood and stretched. “Since it’s a Saturday and everything.”

That smirk was still in place, but she could see a softness in his eyes. “Can you handle another two hours of sheer terror?”

“I wasn’t that scared,” she mumbled, crossing her arms.

Lorcan only grinned and flopped back on the couch, laying out and cracking open another beer.

She rolled her eyes before turning on Cabin In the Woods, and making her way back over to to the couch. “Where exactly am I supposed to sit now?” She asked, pointing to where his feet were in her vacated seat. His entire frame barely fit on her couch.

He wiggled his sock covered toes. “My turn for a foot massage.” He winked at her.

She scrunched her nose. “I don’t wanna touch your feet.”

He pretended to be offended. “And why is that?”

“Your feet are gross.” She chuckled as she sat on top of his shins. “They stink.”

“They do not. They’re cute as fuck and smell like roses.”

Elide giggled. “You keep thinking that. They stink, and they’re massive.”

“What does their size have to do with them?” he laughed. “Isn’t size a good thing? You know what they say about big feet.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, amused as she shook her head.

Lorcan didn’t say anything else, just wiggled his feet free from under her and drank his beer. When he finished, he stood and started collecting the cans.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

He shrugged. “We killed a twelve pack. I��m going to get the rest of the beer out of the fridge.”

Elide rolled her eyes, but she resituated and got comfortable on the couch. When Lorcan returned, he handed her a fresh drink and sat down in the middle of the couch. His arm was draped over the back of the couch, his hand right behind Elide’s head. He began to play with strands of hair coming out of the back of her ponytail.

Elide had to resist the urge to purr.

He handed her another full can.

She didn’t hesitate as she took it, popped it open, and downed it. She hated the taste of beer, but as the night went on, she tasted it less and less. 

Lorcan continued to play with her hair.

Elide had no idea what was going on in the movie, but she didn’t care, and wasn't scared at all as Lorcan continued to play with her hair. 

To her surprise, he let her relax, didn’t try to scare her, didn’t try to tease her, not anymore. The movie was about half way done when Elide looked over at him to find him already watching her. 

“What?” she laughed, quietly. 

“You like me playing with your hair,” he whispered, and he wore no smile. 

“Maybe,” she admitted.

“I’ve been playing with your hair for thirty minutes,” he continued. 

“I noticed,” she said, her voice small as she tried to concentrate, tried to notice if she was slurring her words or not. 

She sure as hell couldn’t tell if he was.

They’d danced around this for years, the feelings they had for each other, the other never seeming to return the feelings that they had. Everyone else constantly gave them shit for not just being together.

Elide always touted off the same response about Lorcan not looking at her that way. What she didn’t know is that he always said she deserved better than a bastard.

She tried to look back at the movie to concentrate on who was on screen, what was happening, but those lithe fingers just kept slipping through the strands.

And then her hair came loose, as he pulled the ponytail out of it and flicked it at her.

“Hey!” She cried, looking for it in the piles and piles of blankets.

Lorcan only looked at her, a self-satisfied look on his face. “What are you thinking?” 

Elide stilled. “What do you mean?”

“You were thinking something, I could see it,” he followed. “What was it?”

“Nothing,” she replied, a little too quickly. 

“Nothing?” he asked, one brow raised. “Liar.”

“Am not.”

“You just don’t want to tell me.”

“And if I don’t?” Elide asked.

He was grinning. “You’re drunk.”

“So?” she asked.

His grin faded. “What were you thinking, El?”

That we should get over ourselves and see what we could be. “That I have no idea what’s going on in this movie.” 

“Neither do I,” he admitted, his voice quiet.

His eyes were on her mouth. When she bit down on her bottom lip, his nostrils flared slightly and he wet his own lips. She breathed, “Are you staring at my lips?”

If it weren’t for the alcohol in her veins, she never would have had the nerve to ask. He nodded once.

“And what are you thinking?” She asked, quietly.

“You have nice lips,” he confessed.

Elide hesitated. “I have nice lips?”

He nodded, once, yet again. 

“Interesting,” she said, when he said no more, her voice remaining small. 

“Interesting?” he repeated.

“Interesting,” she agreed. 

They both stared at one another, the movie playing quietly in the background. It was strange, how Elide’s heart was beating uncontrollably throughout the screams and shrieks from the t.v. screen, but not from fear.

Not at all from fear. 

From exhilaration, from disbelief, from wondering if she was picking up the wrong ques. 

“You’re still looking at my lips,” she said. 

“You’re looking at mine now,” was his response.

He was right, of course. She was.

After a second, she cleared her throat and looked back to the television, but she could still feel his gaze on her from time to time.

During one of the bloodiest scenes she’d ever seen, Lorcan suddenly paused the movie. “Do you hear that?”

Elide snorted. “I’m not falling for that.”

“I’m serious,” he said, looking behind them, towards the window. “You don’t hear that?”

The tone of his voice was unsettling. She pulled her feet up onto the couch, even though she had no idea what he was hearing. She couldn’t hear anything. “This isn’t funny, Lor. Stop it.”

He quickly got up and went to the front door, making sure it was locked, before looking out the window. Elide’s heart was racing. She still hadn’t heard anything, he hadn’t-.

“Oh gods, I was right,” he said, hurrying back to the couch.

She was pretty sure she was going to have a panic attack. “What is it?”

“It’s the… the…” He swallowed harshly and looked at her. “The tickle monster.”

“Damn it Lor-.”

He was flying to her side of the couch and tickling her sides, making her squirm, making her laugh, making her scream before she could even finish her sentence. 

“Lorcan!” She cried, trying to push him away, but he was massive and when he was on a tickle mission, he was going to see it through.

“Lorcan!” She said, again, getting a good hit on his chest this time.

Lorcan’s laugh was contagious, his smile bright, and it wasn’t until Lorcan’s fingers stopped dancing along her sides that Elide realized how they were laying.

He was on top of her, his chest across her legs, his head just above her waist. His body wasn’t completely pressed up against her, but it was pressed up enough.

His fingers sat on her bare skin, her shirt having just barely ridden up during his onslaught of tickles, and her skin felt like it was on fire where he touched her. Sitting that close, she swore she could see bits of blue in the depth of his black eyes. His thumb began to rub a slow circle over her hip.

She sat up, at the same time and when he pulled her closer, she breathed his name.

They were close.

It wasn’t that she had never been close to him, but this was a different kind of close. She could feel his warm, alcohol-scented breath on her lips.

Lorcan.

Her Lorcan.

Her best friend.

The movie was still playing, Elide was certain, but she couldn’t see it, couldn’t hear it.

There was nothing in the world except for him.

“You’re drunk,” Lorcan whispered.

“So are you,” Elide agreed.

Lorcan nodded, slowly, his nose nearly brushing along hers. “Yeah.”

And then he was kissing her, slowly, gently.

She didn’t hesitate, her lips moving against his as if they were made for each other. One of her hands gripped his arm, they other still pressed against his chest and she bunched the fabric up in her hands.

A scream from the tv had them pulling apart and both breathing heavily as they looked at each other.

Elide breathed, “You know, if you were scared, all you had to do was say so.”

Lorcan looked at her for a moment before tipping his head back and laughing. 

[louiseleblancdiggory]

Trick, treats, bets

31 Days of Spooktober

Day 11/31

Prompt: “Scaring the kids? You already do that without a mask” brycehunt pls (i'm asking this one bc of you)

Bryce both loved and hated Halloween.

She loved the costumes, the whole spooky vibes. The candy promotions were amazing, and the Devil’s Night parties were even better. But she also hated the—

Her thoughts were interrupted by the thing the hated the most. Bryce grunted, getting up and grabbing the bag of candy sitting by her side. It’s not that she hated the kids that came to her apartment for candy, she herself had done it throughout her childhood and adolescence, she just hated needing to get up all the goddamn time unless she wanted spray paint on her door or toilet paper glued to it.

She thought about leaving a bowl outside and letting the kids grab it, but it always ended up with a single boy taking the whole thing, not only making Bryce need to get up all the time during the night nonetheless, but it also forced her to buy a new bowl on the following day.

Plastering a smile on her face, Bryce opened the door, looking at the pack of children in front of her.

“Trick-or-treats!” They all said in unison, some voices muffled by their masks. Bryce’s smile turned genuine, and she started handing out the candy. As they received their candies, the kids said a quick thanks, moving to the other apartment across the hall.

Bryce prayed that he wasn’t at home, that he, like any other adult, had gone to some Halloween party. She had planned on, but her shift started so early on the following morning that she just gave up the idea, celebrating only Devil’s Night. Unfortunately, her prayers were not heard because a second later, the red door across from hers opened, a gigantic figure taking up all the threshold space. He was in his usual black pants and black shirt, a Scream mask covering his face.

Upon seeing the mask, some kids screamed, some kids laughed and most did both. They repeated the same phrase they had said moments ago to her, and so he started handing out candy.

Incapable of holding herself back, Bryce smirked ironically, leaning against her door frame. “Scaring the kids? You already do that without a mask, Hunt.”

As he always did when Bryce teased him, Hunt’s head snapped up, and she could almost see his eyes narrowing under the Scream mask.

The thing about her neighbor was plain and simple.

She fucking despised him.

Always had, even though Danika would usually point out that it was only Bryce’s stubbornness talking too loudly. Her roommate actually liked their neighbor, and that sometimes meant that Bryce had to arrive to see Hunt and Dani talking on the hallway as if they were friends. Bryce supposed they were, but she’d never admit that her best friend was friends with him.

Dani hadn’t been there when Bryce first moved their shit in. She had been traveling with her excuse of a mother to visit her sick grandpa, and so Bryce got the responsibility to move everything in before the end of summer. She hadn’t mind, not really. It wasn’t like Danika owned tons of shit, and most of the boxes were Bryce’s anyways.

And that’s when she had met Hunt.

For her whole life, Bryce had been told she was the biggest pain in the ass anyone could meet. The people saying that obviously hadn’t met Hunt Athalar.

The guy had bothered her every fucking day for a whole month. Every time a different complaint, every time just as annoying. She was being too loud, she was coming in too late and slamming the from door, her music was shit, she had to shut her dog up… Bryce wondered if Hunt made a fucking mental list every weekend regarding what he was going to complain about that week.

In the beginning she tried to be nice, tried to be polite to her neighbor but after two weeks she was just so fed up, that when Hunt complained about her coming back home so late, she just snapped.

“Well, you fucking prick, I come home late because I have a social life. Differently from you, apparently, who spends his day planning what’s he’s going to complain about next.” Bryce said, her drunken voice loud in the corridor. Hunt was standing at the door, eyes narrowed at her. “Actually, I can understand why you do that. Why you don’t have a fucking social life. It’s because you’re fucking insufferable! Going out with you must be the worst fucking torture ever.”

After that, she had slammed the door and prayed to the gods that the outburst would finally make him stop bothering her.

It didn’t.

When Dani came home, however, things got better. For some reason, Hunt seemed to like her better than he liked Bryce. If it depended on her, Danika wouldn’t even talk to that asshole, but since talking to her roommate apparently made him more friendly, Bryce never complained.

Hunt raised his mask from his face, giving Bryce a sarcastic smile. “Quinlan, always a fucking pleasure hearing your voice.”

“There are kids present.”

Hunt rolled his eyes, giving out candy to the last kids. “Cussing makes me look cooler than you to them.”

Some kids giggled, and Bryce tried— she really did try— to keep her mouth shut. “Don’t kids adore clowns?”

Despite the fact that Bryce felt as if she was back at fourth grade after that one, she felt somewhat smug.

Hunt let out a single laugh, still sarcastically smiling down at Bryce from across the hall. “I’m still the preferred one.”

“No, you’re not.”

As the kids left, Bryce knew she should go back to her apartment and hope she wouldn’t need to see Hunt’s face again for the rest of the night, but he kept standing there, and she didn’t want to be the first one to back down.

Hunt managed to bring out the very childish side of her. It was just wonderful.

“Why don’t we bet, then?” He asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bryce narrowed her eyes, looking him up and down for no reason at all other than attempting to unnerve him. Judging from his impatient look when her eyes raised back to his face, her attempt was successful.

“I honestly would rather put toothpicks under my nails and then hit them against a wall.”

“So dramatic.” His smile widened. “But it’s ok that you don’t want. I’d be scared too.”

Oldest fucking trick on the book. Stupidest one too.

And she fell right into it.

Bryce grunted her jaw. “What fucking bet?”

“I think the kids would prefer me over you. You think the opposite.” He explained, gesturing to the middle of the corridor. “We put a box there asking them to write the number of the best house. Whoever wins gets a favor from the loser.”

Bryce scoffed, shaking her head. “As if I’d put the risk of having to owe you a favor in the hands of a bunch of ten years-olds.”

“Shouldn’t worry if you think you’re gonna win.”

Bryce bit the inside of her cheeks, looking Hunt up and down again. She knew it was a terrible bet, and she definitely did not want to owe him anything if she lost. Bryce didn’t even care about what the kids thought of her, she just didn’t want Hunt to be all smug and feeling superior.

“Fucking shit.” She murmured, rubbing her eyes. “Put the fucking box in the middle of the hallway and at midnight we count.”

And what was supposed to be a calm night— sometimes annoying— of just handing out candy, became a kissing-the-ass-of-a-bunch-of-kids night. Bryce was extra nice to all the kids, but she never asked them to vote for her house. She didn’t even knew if they were actually doing it, but she felt like asking for votes felt a little too much.

She handed out more candy to each one as she had previously expected, complimented costumes and even made small talk to the older trick-or-treaters, but beyond that she just acted normal.

As midnight approached, though, she started to wish that she had asked for those votes. The perspective of being in debt with the person she most fucking despised was terrifying, and she knew that if she lost, Hunt would definitely pick something to make her miserable.

Although she’d never admit it, she was anxiously waiting by the door for ten minutes already when the clock chimed midnight. Both she and Hunt opened the door at the same time, both looking at each other for a quick second before rushing to the box in the middle of the hallway. For the first time since she had met him, Bryce didn’t insult, scowl or even talked to Hunt. They just sat in silence on the floor and started to count.

Surprisingly, it looked like all the kids had found the question interesting enough because there were at least sixty paper votes inside the box. Half to her content, half to her worry, she and Hunt were pretty tied.

Hunt smiled, shaking the box. “Last vote, Quinlan.”

Bryce was staring at that box as if it held the answers to all of her problems. They were currently 34-34, and whoever got that vote won.

For the seconds it took Hunt to take the paper out of the box, Bryce’s heart was basically galloping inside her chest.

And when he smiled, her heart dropped.

Before he even placed the paper down on his pile, Bryce was already resting her head against the wall, groaning and cursing the children.

“Fuck no. No, no, no. Fuck, fuck no.” She groaned, shaking her head as she looked up to the ceiling.

“Don’t be a sore loser, Quinlan.” Hunt said, and although Bryce wasn’t looking at him, she knew he was smiling.

“Go choke on a dick, asshole.”

Hunt’s rich laughs reverberated through the corridor, and Bryce groaned one more time.

“The way I’m feeling right now.” Hunt gloated, only half speaking to her.

Bryce snapped her face back to him, eyes opening. She made a face, showing him the middle finger. “Why don’t you just ask your fucking favor and leave me alone?”

Hunt’s smile was nothing short of scary, and Bryce was already bracing herself for his next words. “Remember two weeks after you moved in?”

Bryce’s nervousness was substituted for confusion, and a crease created in between her eyebrows. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

Hunt’s smile grew. “Remember what you said?”

Bryce simply narrowed her eyes.

“That going out with me would be, and I quote, the worst fucking torture ever?” Hunt’s voice was sweet, smile enormous, and it took Bryce only a second to understand.

“Oh, fuck you.” She said, jaw falling. Bryce knew Hunt had no interest in her, he just wanted to antagonize her life. “Fuck you, you fucking fuck.”

Hunt laughed again, throwing his head back. Bryce crossed her arms, head shaking as she still had her jaw somewhat dropped.

“Really? You can ask for anything and you decide to chose something stupid just to annoy me?”

Hunt was too busy laughing to respond to her, and Bryce got up, scowling down at him.

“I’m gonna make you wish you’d never been born during the three hours I’m out with you.”

Hunt controlled his laughter, looking up at her. “Wouldn’t expect anything else from you.”

Bryce opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, she just turned on her heels, walking up to her apartment and slamming the door without looking back at Hunt.

She decided, in that moment, that she actually fucking hated Halloween.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: Getting sick when you’re doing a challenge is the biggest bitch ever. I’m hopeful I’ll finish before Halloween but who knows? This is quick and the first time I write Brycehunt, so new waters for me. Hope you enjoyed!

Tags:

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @lexflame @sleeping-and-books @annejulianneh111 @perseusannabeth @linshryver @mu-si-ca-l @camilamartinezdunne @dank-queen7 @minaidss @starborn-faerie-queen @booksofthemoon @loveofbooksandwine @jesstargaryenqueen @bluejaberry @multifandommessblog @yesdreamblog @superspiritfestival @ireallyshouldsleeprn @woollycat22 @julemmaes @claralady

[ribcage-rodents]

How Iris first had an inkling that Wally had a crush on Dick. Ok so like, bc Star and Gotham are absolutely horrifying during Halloween, Barry is like “I’ll patrol then Iris will take the babies trick or teating”

Originally Wally is really upset bc he wants to go patrolling w his uncle but once he finds out that he gets to hang out w the other hero’s he’s psyched.

So Wally is like 12-13 and dresses up as the flash naturally. Roy is like 14-15 and he’s totally too old for Halloween and over it bc he’s super angsty, and dresses up as like Jason form Friday the thirteenth or some shit bc Black Canary forces him to. Robin only ever celebrated Halloween during his circus days when everyone would paint their face scary and flying Graysons would do aerial ballet show w black fabric so it was like spiders but after that it was just horrifying.

Anyway so Barry picked up this tiny Batman costume and Iris was like “Barry hon, isn’t he like 10? Shouldn’t you get him a bigger outfit?” (He two years younger than Wally, and four younger than Roy) And Barry is like “no trust me babe he teeny”.

Batman shows up to their house followed by a tinsity winsty baby tiny Batman bc Barry ran it over b/f patrol. And wow is that cute. Tiny baby Batman is basically glued to Batman’s side, his teeny little head coming up to Batman’s lower thigh, last time Iris checked 10-year olds aren’t supposed to be that tiny but wow is it adorable. (I’m sorry I just love teeny baby Dickie& giant looming built-like-a-tank batdaddy)

Barry told her what Batman had already explained. That Robin is foreign and doesn’t really know a lot of holiday stuff and also has been severely traumatized the past couple of years and doesn’t really like strangers and knows better than to take anything from strangers.

So it’s obvious that Robin would rather be tied up and drugged w fear gas than in a family aquatintence’s home about to go trick or treating. And Iris is a little resentful of the other boys, hard as she try to be understanding, bc Wally looks so disappointed bc he just wants to have friends and these guys don’t want to have fun.

Anyway Roy is kinda warming up to the whole trick or treating thing but sometimes he can be really mean to Wally but maybe Iris is just overprotective of her boy. Iris takes several pictures during the entire night despite both Batmans being adamant about no photos.

Robin refuses to go up to any house but Iris doesn’t comment on it. She doesn’t want to alienate him, so she doesn’t say anything. She goes up and grabs him a peice of candy but he disappears into the night. She panics for a good couple of seconds but calms when tiny Batman shows up next to Wally and Roy.

She doesn’t try again after that. He likes to walk at the back of the group and every time Iris tries to keep an eye on him, bc he may be a trained hero but central isn’t as safe as smallsville and her parental instincts are going off. Every couple of blocks Wally will try to walk next to him and talk and it’ll work for a while then Robin will slow down and fall behind and Wally’s angelic little baby face gets so sad.

As their trip comes to an end Iris can see Robin wrapping the cape around him tightly w his eyes screwed shut and it breaks her heart a little bc this poor boy must be so uncomfortable and scared that he’s trying to imitate the feeling of his mentors hug. It’s a jarring to imagine Batman hugging anything but she supposes that a baby as cute as that must make even the dark knight just wanna squeeze his sweet rosy, chubby cheeks. She reaches out to place a hand on his head, bc he’s too short to comfortably put a hand on his shoulder.

He jerks back immediately and death glares her, his anger showing full force through the white eyelets. She sent him an apologetic smile and he seemed to unbistle a smidgen.

Once they were finally home Iris watched them from behind the kitchen counter. Wally and Roy were digging into the candy while Robin perched on top of the couch. He kept scratching at his arm, Barry said that it was fine as long as it was controlled. Apparently the poor baby had a pretty serious anxiety disorder and tended to scratch to make himself feel better, it was ok as long as he didn’t have an attack.

She tossed him the single candy across the room, he caught it swiftly in his tiny baby hand. (So cute) Wally shot up to his feet. “That’s not one of my candies right?” Iris smiled, her prefect gluttonous boy. “Nope it’s from your uncles,” it was lie but it didn’t harm anyone. “That’s my backup candy!” Wally cried racing towards the door and snatching up handfuls of candy from the trick or treater bowl. Iris pretend to scold him for being stingy.

Robin slowly unwrapped the candy then examined it breaking off a piece and finally eating the snickers. His eyelets widened comically and he chewed slowly staring down at the candy before shoving the entire (not that fun size is really that big) thing in his mouth. It was absolutely adorable! She wished she had take a video and wondered if this was his first ever candy. (Dick usually just ate cotton candy as a kid, he hadn’t discover cereal yet. But since his parents died he hasn’t had real sugar, Alfred has strict hold on anything sweet in the house and Robin was deemed too energetic already.)

Apparently Wally agreed bc his mouth was wide open and his face was a blotchy-red color. His eyes were filled w what Iris could only discribe as adoration.

Wally swallowed then stood up again. His arms filled w sweets. “Here you can have my candy!” Wally all but shouted at the other boy, he paused for a second looking at his arms, “or we could share,” he suggested instead.

That’s what got Iris, even before his flash experiment Wally has never shared food, not even w his uncle. But here he was offering up some to a boy he hardly knows bc he thinks it’s cute when he eats candy. God she might cry.

Robin smiled at Wally. A real smile, the first one she’s seen all night. “You could still have it all if you wanted!” Wally said again his face turning a couple shades darker and thrusting the candy at robin, who artfully avoided his touch.

“We can share, don’t speedsters need extra calories?” Wally nodded and then proceeded to gather up the rest of the candy scattered on the floor. It was then that Iris noticed that Roy and dipped.

She was slightly panicked. Roy could probably fight for himself but he’s still a baby, a baby that Iris was in charge of. She hurriedly pulled out some blankets and turned on the tv for the boys while she dialed Barry who called Ollie. In a strange turn of events Ollie actually apologized to Iris, saying quote, “Roy’s a little jack-ass of course he snuck off. Don’t worry I’ll find him, probably screwed off to get drunk at some highschool party. Thanks for watching him while you could, I honestly expected him to scurry off a lot sooner.”

It didn’t exactly ease the tension in Iris’ chest but watching those two babies sitting on the couch pass candy back forth watching Charlie Brown specials made her feel a lot better. They were on opposite sides of the couch and Iris could see Wally’s little fingers twitching by his legs, he got up to go to the bathroom and came back only to really casually sit right next to Robin, like basically on his lap.

Robin wiggled up onto the arm of the couch.

“Ok so this ones a Milky Way,” Wally said passing the treat up to Robin.

He popped it in his mouth and chewed. “What’s the difference between this one and the snickers?” He asked, Iris was a little surprised by how good Robins accent was, he spoke like a natural English speaker, which he wasn’t. Every once in a while he’d use a word wrong or mispronounce something, a lit of something would catch on what he was saying but his American accent was pretty flawless.

“Snickers have peanuts, milky ways don’t,” Wally supplied in a duh voice. Robin smiled, “golly, you sure know a bunch about candies. You must be really smart!” And isn’t that so cute! Everyone treats the speedsters like idiots just bc they’re dense but here Robin is picking up on the hidden intelligence like a Batman should. Wally puffed his chest out all proud his face was still all red like a patchy strawberry.

A couple hours passed when Batman showed up. Wearing a different not soaked in fear gas costume, both Iris and Wally were sad to see robin go, well Wally was more devastated. The minute Batman stepped through the front door Robin was disappearing underneath his cape, according to Barry Robin doesn’t like to be more than 3cm from Batman at all times.

“Maybe we can hang out more!” Wally called his blush finally fading. A chipper ok sounded from somewhere in Batman’s cape, (Wally’s face turned scarlet in an instant) at the same time Batman gruffed out a no. Wally’s perfect baby face fell, Batman and Robin left. “Hey don’t worry kiddo I’ll talk to him!” Wally gave a half-hearted smile then went back to his candy eating.

Later he was engrossed in a discussion of patrol w his uncle while they both ate most of central’s candy supply.

As Barry and Iris got ready for bed an hour or so later she turned to him w a mischievous smile. “So it’s seems like Wally’s got his first real crush!” She sing-songed. Barry looked at her confused a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. “Who?” “Robin” she responded. “That’s doesn’t make any sense!” She signed, somethings speedsters really were dense.

[a-detraque-barista]

Our Haunted House

Title: Our Haunted House

Rating: M

Word Count: 5.4k

Genre: yandere, horror, smut

Warnings: cursing, yandere behaviors, mention of blood, tentacle fucking, buckets of cum, biting, marking, possessiveness, unprotected sex

Summary: On your first trip back to the Halloween Fest you ran into a quiet but attractive man. Once you get separated from your friends he can’t keep himself from touching you.

A/N: HAPPY SPOOKS DAY EVERYONE!!!! A perfect rainy day (not for trick or treaters) for Halloween and to stay home and have a  Halloween Movie Marathon while eating candy and other junk food. Anyway, this is my very first smut and I hope you all like it. I also entered this in @bang-tan-bitches​ writing challenge, Monster Mash. So go check out all the other amazing stories posted in the challenge and show them some love and now on with tentacley Jimin  💜 💜 💜

    The music box played alone on the stage. It reminded you of carnival music but there was a dark undertone to it. You were only twelve and your father decided to bring you to the annual Halloween Fest. You never got scared when someone jumped out in front of you. For some reason, you have never felt fear. Nothing ever frightened you like other people. 

Your mother had voiced her concerns on more than one occasion. Calling you a freak, a monster, even going as far as a demon. She doesn’t speak to you anymore. Ignoring your existence and spending her time drinking wine and watching trash television. 

The stage you sat a few rows away from had gone completely dark before a clown was in the spotlight. His makeup was done terribly. His lips were painted black which was peeling and the white paint on his face was cracking. As he smiled widely you could clearly see black smudges on his yellow teeth.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!! I am your host for this evening! And tonight I welcome you to The Clowning. I did not come up with the name by the way,” he spat as he spoke with a fake speech impediment. “And now I present to you, Stabby the Prankster.”

Your father’s eyebrow raised, just as many other parents at the name. Then a clown wearing all red and black popped out from behind the curtain. A laugh similar to Woody the Woodpecker reached your ears. And just as his name entailed, he had knives in both hands. His makeup was just as terrible as the first. Instead, his eyes had red circles and his cheeks had red spots on top of the cracking white paint. 

He jumped down from the stage and in front of the first row viewers. His bulging eyes looked from left to right before lunging straight ahead and swiftly slit the young boy’s throat.

Screaming followed as people began to rush towards the exit. Your father picked you up and began to run with you tightly in his arms. Pushing his way through, he got to just outside the door before stopping dead in his tracks. Everyone around the two of you gasped as they saw the dagger sticking out of his back. 

Your father looked down at you and smiled weakly before dropping to his knees and before he could fall forward onto you, a family friend hoisted you onto her hip. She ran with you as you looked back to your now-dead father lying on the floor. 

The clown that had thrown the knife had made his way to your dad’s body and locked gazes with you. His smile was gone and he was no longer slashing townspeople one by one. He seemed as if he was worried about something.

The clown that had claimed to be the host grabbed Stabby by the neck and threw him back into the auditorium before disappearing behind the doors himself. 

“It’s going to be okay sweetie. They can’t hurt you. There’s nothing you have to worry about,” the woman carrying you said softly as you began to cry. Your father was the only one that cared about you. And you were old enough to know that.

It’s been around a decade since then. You moved out of your mother’s house into your own. You finally had your own space. Your mother didn’t talk to you much after what happened. Only a few words every couple of weeks.

As you grew older, nobody realized your dad was one of the victims. Which led you to make friends. Your best friends were Jennie and Mark, they even wanted to be your roommates. You may not live alone but you still consider this your own space, compared to your mom’s house. 

You laid in your bed as you played on your phone. It was already four in the morning, but you couldn’t sleep. Nothing worked. Listening to classical music, drinking some of Jennie’s chamomile tea, tossing and turning. Now you stared at your white ceiling thinking of other ways to fall asleep. 

Halloween is coming up and you had to think of ways to decorate the house. No wonder why you can’t sleep, your mind always wanders off. Still, you think about all the decorations you have in storage in the attic and think of new ones you could buy. 

As you zone out you see something in the corner of your eye. Quickly looking to the side, you see nothing but your closed closet door and look back up at the ceiling to see swirling patterns begin to slither across. They were navy blue mixed with graphite grey. They were like vines twisting and curling around each other. Your eyebrows furrowed as the vine-like tendrils became bigger like they were getting closer. You feel the smooth tip of the reaching blue vine graze your nose. You attempt to sink further into the bed but as you run out of space the tendril still follows and moves to the side to comfortingly caress the side of your face. It was gentle and you could feel your eyelids becoming heavier. 

Trying to fight it, you struggle to keep your eyes open. Even attempting to hit it away with your hand but another tendril grabbed your wrist, with the utmost care. It laid your hand back down softly as if it didn’t want to cause you any pain, even a little. 

Your eyes were closed by the time the most soothing voice you’ve ever heard say, “You have all the power over me.”

Mark jumping onto your bed while Jennie made an alarm go off on her phone was what woke you up. Mark began to shake you violently as he laughed, “It’s one in the afternoon, lazy ass. Get up.”

You weren’t able to say anything until he finished shaking you. Even then you didn’t say anything and just groaned. Mark and Jennie both started to jump on the bed and stopped abruptly to hear what you had to say.

“Fuck you,” you swiped your leg into theirs to make them fall. Jennie landed on her back on the bed and Mark landed on the floor. 

“So mean,” Mark grumbled from the floor. You sat up and leaned on your elbow to give him a blank look when he popped his head up. 

“So annoying.”

Mark laid back down on the floor to sulk while Jennie turned to you, “Wanna go to the Halloween Fest with us? I know you never go but it’ll be fun.” 

You got up and walked to your bathroom connected to your room, closing the door behind you. You never told them about your father being one of the victims during what they called, Hallow’s Eve Massacre. You had always thought it was a dull name. Created by none other than the group of moms that have nothing better to do than to drink overcomplicated coffee that was too expensive for their small sizes and get into other people’s business like it’s their own.

Standing at the sink you thought about the pros and cons of going. Pros. Delicious seasonal foods, haunted houses, everything scary you love, and getting out of the house with your two best friends.

Cons. Paranoia, especially of clowns and stages, people you don’t like to even be within a ten-mile radius, and going outside.

You supposed the pros outweigh the cons. Who knows, it could be fun.

You regret your decision the moment you walked through the admission stands. Looking around you saw many clowns. Or were they your former classmates? It was hard to tell. None of these-

“Ow!” Landing on your ass you ended up dropping your coffee.

“I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” The man who bumped into you kneeled down to make sure you were okay. You felt like you've seen his face before but couldn't really pinpoint where you've seen him.

"Yeah-yeah. I'm fine," you felt him begin to pull you up by your arms to stand up directly in front of him. “Are you okay? I mean I ran into you-”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good,” you stood there awkwardly and watched as his hand soothingly rubbed your forearms. It felt comforting. His hands were warm and it seeped through your jacket and into your skin. 

“Jennie, I think we’re interrupting something,” Mark joked as he leaned into Jennie’s side like he was whispering to her but spoke in a normal, almost loud voice.

Your face gained a red hue as you stepped away from the man who tried to look into your very soul, “Sorry again. I’ll try to pay more attention.” You stared at the ground and began to quickly walk away from the man.

“Please don’t. I’d love to run into you again sometime,” he called out before turning the other way and continued his path to wherever he was going. You kept walking with Jennie and Mark until you arrived at the part of the fairgrounds where they had all the rides. 

First, you rode the Twirling Tangerines, inside the large oranges there was a wheel you could all turn. Then, you rode the Spider, where you sat in a cart-like box that spun as the arms lifted you up and down.

You were on your way to the haunted house when you turned to Mark, “I think I just saw-” Noticing he’s not with you, you look around the crowd to try and spot him. “Jennie, where’d Mark go?”

She turned to you and looked around as well, “How the hell could we lose him?” She took out her phone from her pocket and clicked on his contact to call him. He didn’t answer.

“We’ll have to split up and look for him,” you shrugged as you headed toward back the way you came and Jennie veering left from the way you were going.

It took almost half an hour before you get a call from Jennie, telling you she found him. She failed to mention the man that Mark had crossed paths with on his adventure. 

You met them at one of the tents where they had a rigged game for people to play as stuffed animals hung from the top. You may or may not have stopped at the apple cider stand on your way to the game tent.

“Woooooow. You didn’t get us any?” Mark was obviously hurt but you didn’t really care. “You shouldn’t have wandered off like you did cause then we’d both have apple cider right now,” you took a sip of your hot drink while looking at him.

Your eyes shift to the man who you had bumped into earlier. You began to cough up the warm beverage that was trying to intrude into your lungs from your sharp intake of breath. Coughing into your sleeve, you tried to breathe again before asking, “What are you doing here?”

“Mark ran into me while I was heading toward the Baker’s Street and he was looking somewhere else,” his smile was so big it made his eyes turned into crescent moons. It almost made you want to smile. He walked closer to you before reaching out his hand to you, “My name’s Jimin. What’s yours?”

You stood there wide-eyed and shocked before snapping out of it and taking his hand. Maybe a bit too eagerly, “Y/n.” You took your hand back and turned to Mark and Jennie, “Ready for the haunted house?”

Mark groaned and Jennie gave an unconvincing “yeah” as she kind of curled into herself. You lead the way and never turned to look if Jimin had ended up following you or went ventured off somewhere else. 

You didn’t really know what to do with guys. Keeping to yourself you never really talked to people. Especially guys so it was kind of new and weird for you to speak with such an attractive guy that wasn’t a close friend like Mark. 

Walking up to the house you showed the wristband you got at the admissions booth to allow you to go in. 

"I'm sorry sir. If you don't have a wristband then I can't let you in," the woman at the entrance practically spat the person she was talking to.

You turned around to see her speaking to Jimin and felt kind of annoyed by how she spoke to him. She didn’t really have any reason to be so rude, that you knew of. “He did have one, I saw it on his wrist a few minutes ago,” you don't know why you were vouching for this guy. You just felt like it, you guessed.

The lady reluctantly nodded him through with a sneer. He smiled politely towards her before joining your group into the dark foyer.

As a dressed up ghoul jumped out in front of you and Jimin, you did nothing but stare blankly at the man while Mark yelped and Jennie gasped. How Jimin ended up next to you, you didn't know. 

Jimin noticed how the jump scare didn't frighten you. He found it intriguing, in fact. You didn’t even bat an eyelid. 

“Where’s Mark?” Jimin’s head snapped to you as you looked around for your not-so-bright friend once again. Jimin began to look around with you.

“You must be fucking kidding me,” Jennie sighed before saying, “I’ll go look for him so he doesn’t make any weird friends in here.”

Leaving you and Jimin alone, you kept walking through the hallways and up the staircase. Many people attempted to scare you but none of them succeeded. And Jimin tried not to laugh at your reaction to their attempts. It’s not that he was making fun of you. He was just amused how much effort the actors put into being frightening and all they get is your eyebrow raised at most. 

You felt Jimin take your hand gently and slowly tighten his grip into a comfortable hold, “I’m scared.” 

Immediately, you could tell he wasn’t scared at all. He just wanted a reason to hold your hand like he was smooth. But you didn’t really have the heart to take your hand away. And you didn’t really want to. You felt him come closer to you bit by bit until your shoulders were rubbing against each other.

“You wouldn’t mind if I held you would you?” Jimin broke the eerie silence that sat between you two.

“Why do you want to?” you found the question odd but weren’t completely opposed to it. You weren’t a hoe but he just made you feel comfortable. 

“Cause I want to get closer to you.”

“But you’re already close to me,” you smiled. “I suppose.”

He reciprocated your smile and let go of your hand to wrap around your shoulders. He tugged you closer so you were tucked into his side. The warmth from his body kept you from shivering because of the freezing temperatures inside the building. 

Seeing a door crack open not far down the hallway, you expected someone to jump out of the room. Getting close enough to look into the bedroom, no one jumped out. Jimin noticed your interest in the room and peeked inside with you. The only thing in the room was a wardrobe, a desk, a king-sized bed, and a mirror hanging in front of the desk. All were caked with dust. 

“Must be an extra room they decided not to use,” you concluded before you took a glance at Jimin, only to meet his eyes. You quickly looked away and awkwardly scanned the room.

All you heard were his footsteps before feeling his grip your arm to turn you towards him, “Keep your eyes on me.” 

Your cheeks felt like the sun had been shining on them for hours. And as he demanded, you kept your eyes on him. The thumb on the hand that rested on the side of your face came up to slightly pull down your bottom lip.

“You wouldn’t mind, right?” he said quietly then bit his lip while looking at yours.

Shaking your head gently, Jimin kissed you without a second thought. It was rough and hungry. He didn’t hold back for a second. Licking your lips, practically begging for access. You parted your lips slightly and that’s all he needed to slip his tongue into your mouth. No inch was left untouched. He started to walk forward making you walk back until the back of your knees hit the bed. 

After falling back on the bed, Jimin practically ripped off his thick black hoodie, showing the loose white shirt beneath. It was thin and the neckline hung well below his collarbones. The hoodie landed somewhere by the door as he got down on the floor on his knees. He gently took hold of the waistband on your pants before pulling them down slowly. As they pooled around your ankles, he came back up to start peppering kisses along your inner thighs. 

“I’m sorry baby girl, I would take my time with you but I can’t wait anymore,” his voice was thick with arousal as he tore off your shoes, socks, and pants. “I need to have you.”

Jimin ripped your panties from your waist and fell to the floor in shreds, “I’ll get you new ones.” 

Trailing more kisses down your thighs he got closer and closer to your core. His fingers began to skim over your folds and dip between them to land right on your clit. Rubbing small circles around it, his soft lips were at the apex of your thigh. 

He was so gentle with you, you weren’t sure how to feel. Adored, impatient, excited. Personally, you were never the vanilla type.

    Jimin was so close to your core, so close. But he pulled away at the last second. You whined, at which Jimin laughed at, as he pulled his shirt off from over his head. Tossing his shirt away he climbed back up your body.

    “There’s something I need to show you,” Jimin’s eyes were dark with excitement as he hovered over you.

    Your puzzled look was all he needed to continue to show what he meant. He was groaning as his head hung and his expression made it seem like he was in pain. You didn’t understand what was happening until you saw the tendrils coming out from his back. They were cobalt blue. Two were thinner than the other two. They grew and grew towards the ceiling but stopped just short of it. Once they were straight, as if they were stretching, they curled back down towards you and Jimin. They floated in the air and you stared at them. You weren’t appalled. No, you were...curious. You would’ve never thought he was anything other than human. 

    It’s not like you believed in aliens and werewolves it’s just you the type of person that thought, maybe they do exist, maybe they don’t. It looks like they do.

    “Are you gonna fuck me with those or not?” you said half-joking.

    “You’re not disgusted? Horrified?” Jimin could not believe what he was hearing. You wanted him to fuck you with his tentacles. You wanted him.

    “No, why would I be? I’m surprised and I have some questions but those can wait till later. Don’t you think?” you answered honestly and looked Jimin in the eyes while you said it. And after you said it, the tendrils behind Jimin visibly relaxed. 

    Jimin’s eyes lit up for only a second before he attacks your neck with his pillowy lips. One of the smaller tentacles reaches down between your legs causing you to get surprised and you try to close them. Jimin sucks on your neck harder as he held your legs open with his right hand, “It’s okay, jagi. I’ll make you feel good.”

    As Jimin nibbles on a particularly sensitive spot, you moaned. He almost came right then and there. Your voice was already music to his ears. But your moans? Absolutely heavenly. He tried his best to keep his body from shaking from the numerous shivers. Part of him couldn’t even believe that this was happening. He was touching you, breathing in your scent, pleasuring you. It was his dreams coming true and he was intoxicated with everything you.

    The tentacle between your legs began to rub your clit faster than what Jimin did. More moans started to escape you and your head tilted back into the pillows. Jimin was still making his way all-around your neck, making sure he was marking your neck thoroughly. 

You felt the other small tendril circling your entrance. Becoming coated with your arousal. It slowly began to enter, inch by inch. It was about the same thickness as your trusty vibrator at home so you stretched to its girth with ease. Its smooth texture slipped past your walls effortlessly. 

Jimin was starting to groan the deeper the tendril went. His breath became heavy as he nuzzled his face into your neck, “Jagi~ you’re so tight around him. I can’t wait until my cock is inside your hot cunt. Can I, jagiya?”

“Yes, please. I want you to fuck me,” you said brokenly in between moans.

Jimin sat up and quickly unbuttoned his pants and took them off swiftly. The two larger tentacles reached down to you and took off your coat and shirt. You arched from the building pressure in your abdomen just in time for them to take your bra off. 

The tentacle fucking you took up a hastened pace. It was starting to go deeper and deeper with every thrust. The knot in your lower stomach grew tauter. Jimin kissed you feverishly and swallowed your moans as you got closer to the peak. The very last thrust of the tendril made you come the hardest you’ve ever came before. You felt the tendril in your stomach as it spurted. As did every other tentacle and even Jimin’s cock was spewing out cum.

Jimin’s moan was getting you excited again. It was deep and guttural. You were panting as you felt full of his cum and felt more cum on your chest and stomach. 

“I didn’t know all of them had cum,” you chuckled as you regained your breath. 

Jimin laughs with you, “Now you know how I felt the first time I jerked off.”

His statement made you laugh harder as both of you came down from your highs. The appendage slowly began to pull out of your cum-filled cunt. You whimpered from the sensitivity. Jimin’s cum flowed out of your entrance before Jimin plugged you up with the tip of his cock.

Feeling the head, you realized just how big Jimin was. Being too distracted to notice earlier. Jimin could tell your realization by your expression.

“What’s the matter, jagi? Never had anyone this big before?” Jimin knows he was being a tease. Even though he doesn’t want to even think about the others who’ve touched you. Only he can touch you like this. He’s the only one who can pleasure you.

You knew what he was doing. He was getting smug. But you didn’t really have the patience to play games with him.

“Who knows.”

Jimin’s smirk fell as yours grew. Jimin stared into your eyes as he slammed his entire length into you in one thrust.

“You know I’ve stuffed you full. I don’t think there’s even any room for one of my tentacles. I can feel how I’m stretching you,” Jimin wasn’t going to let you win this one. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist to bring you with him as he sat back on his heels. Your chest heaved from his massive girth inside you. One small tendril wrapped around your wrists and held them above your head, the other small one began to circle at your puckered hole while a larger one spread your right cheek to give it room. And lastly, the last, larger tentacle curled around one of your breasts. 

Jimin slowly pulled out his thick cock before slamming back into your hot cunt. His moans mixed with yours as his pace became faster. Soon he was slamming in and out of you at a bruising pace. The appendage at your tight hole caught some of yours and Jimin’s combined cum and lubed you up. 

At first, it only dipped in its tip. After a few thrusts, it started to go further. Still taking on a slow pace, it steadily enlarged your hole. 

Jimin’s right arm let go of your waist to support himself above you as he leaned forward. He was still pistoning in and out of you with no intention of slowing down. Hair stuck to his forehead as did yours. Moans left you uncontrollably as both of your holes were being fucked and your tit was being gripped.

You felt the pressure on your breast vanish before feeling the said tendril slither up your neck. You hear Jimin breathe out a laugh as he saw his appendage shyly touch you.

“I think he wants to know if you could suck him,” Jimin smirked, knowing that’s exactly what it wanted. 

Opening your mouth, the tendril appeared to become a light blue as it took the invitation. You felt the tentacle practically purr from the wetness and warmth from your mouth. It thrusted into you languidly. Not going very deep so it wouldn’t hurt you. 

“Look at you. Being a slut for me. All your holes are filled with parts of me.”

His thrusts were becoming sloppy. And the tendril in your mouth was going down into your throat until you were gagging with every plunge. Your ass was so stretched out you knew that there was going to be a gap now. Maybe not a large one but there will be one. And Jimin was still pounding your swollen cunt with his massive girth. 

The tendril around your wrists let go to reach down to rub your clit in quick, small circles. You’re loud, almost screaming moans were muffled by the deep throating appendage.

You could feel you were getting so close to your release. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach building. By Jimin’s groans growing louder and his sloppy pace, you tell he was close too. 

He opened his eyes to see your body being completely surrounded by him. He let his arm fall around your waist again but he laid his head between your tits and put the rest of his energy into the last few hard pumps and stilled as he felt your walls flutter around him. 

Your eyes rolled into your skull and Jimin squeezed his eyes closed tightly. Your walls milked Jimin’s cock as it pulsed and shot cum inside you. You felt all the tentacles pulse out cum into your throat, ass, and onto your clit and mound. 

Reaching up to Jimin’s hair, you carded your fingers through the strands. Both of you were trying to calm your breathing down. Jimin was still coming but the tendril down your throat pulled out so you could breathe more easily. 

Jimin began to kiss your sternum after he came down from his high. You glanced down and back up, only to glance down again to notice a visible bulge in your stomach, that's still growing. 

"How much cum do you have?!" you exclaimed as you watched it grow bit by bit. 

"Don't pretend you don't like it," Jimin's smug attitude was still there as he knew he was right by your silence.

Jimin reluctantly pulled out of you and he didn’t mind how much cum was pouring out of your cunt. He knew there were going to be many more times like this. And that’s when he’ll worry about keeping you plugged up but for now, he just wanted to fall asleep next to you.

He pulled your exhausted body back up to the pillows with using the help from his now sky blue tentacles before they slowly retracted back into the slits in his back. 

“We should probably go, Mark and Jennie might be worried about us,” trying to sit up Jimin pulled you back down.

“No need to be in a hurry, jagi. You’re too exhausted to go out looking for him-them right?” Jimin brushed the hair from your forehead so he could see your eyes more clearly.

“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s just hope none of the employees find us,” you huffed out a laugh as you snuggled further into the covers. 

Jimin wrapped his arms around you and entangled his legs with yours. He wasn’t able to even doze off until you were sound asleep. He tried not to think about what just happened so he wouldn’t become hard and wake you up. He needed the whole night to transform this place back to the original with how worn out he is.

“Goodnight jagi. Tomorrow you’ll start your new life here with me. In our own haunted house.”

You woke up to Jimin hugging you tightly beneath the warm blanket that you had dirtied just a few hours ago. Your muscles didn’t want to make any effort to move so you had to lay there until you had the energy to get up and get dressed. Stretching out your legs a bit you felt a crack somewhere in your spine. You’re puzzled about how that would affect your back but you don’t worry about it. Nuzzling back into Jimin’s neck, you finally remembered Jennie and Mark being in the house with you. They must have gone home without you given how long it’s been.

They were adults, no reason to really worry about them. You tucked the blanket over your shoulder to hide from the cold draft. Jimin felt you moving around so he got impossibly closer to you and pulled the blanket up to his neck so it covered most of your head.

You groaned and tilted your head up causing your chin to rest on his chest making your lips pout. He cracked an eye open to see what you were doing. Seeing your sleepy, pouty face made him let out a breathy chuckle.

Jimin leaned down to kiss your forehead, “Did you sleep well?” He continued his kisses all over your face, moving down to reach your nose.

“Mm-hm,” your eyes were still closed when you thought about what it was. “Do you know what time it is?”

“No,” he kept smothering your face in kisses.

“I have to go home soon.”

“No.”

“No? I kinda do. I need clean clothes, I need a shower, and I need to check up on Jennie and Mark,” you began to untangle yourself from Jimin’s arms and legs only to have him roll you over to lay on you. “Jimin~ I have to get up,” laughing you tried to roll back over Jimin had you completely pinned. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said quietly into your ear before he kissed right below your lobe. “My marks are fading already, stay still.”

You huffed as he darkened the already almost purple hickeys on your neck, “After this, you have to get off me so I can go home.” 

“But you can’t go home. You live here now, with me,” he pushed himself up with his forearms on the mattress. His eyes were stone. But they were warm as they bore into yours. “You’re not leaving me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” you whispered as you maintained eye contact. “How can either of us live here when it’s just a stage for townspeople to dress up and scare people?”

“It seems, you haven’t noticed the change in the room,” Jimin smirked as his eyes left yours to scan the room, causing you to follow his actions. 

The room was no longer a dirty beige with dust-covered furniture. It’s the same exact room except, it was gray. Everything in the room was gray beside you two. The window that had light from the fair shining through was completely blacked out. And the mirror above the desk was completely shattered. Little to no pieces remained in the frame. 

“Besides, your friends tried to find us but they kind of got trapped,” He laid back down next to you and rested his head on his hand. “So there’s no need to worry about them, sweetheart.”

You pushed his arm off and swung your legs onto the floor but you felt the familiar wetness from one of Jimin’s tentacles wrap around your abdomen. It made you sit back down and pulled you back to Jimin.

“It’s true that you have all the power over me. However, that doesn’t mean I’ll let you go.”

Your heart undoubtedly fluttered.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #407

“sugar pop, sugar pop, baby here i come, straight to #1″

Do you follow any special diet? (dairy free, vegetarian, gluten free etc.) No. What’s your favourite summer activity? Swimming is all I really enjoy about summer. Who was the first person to break your heart? It wasn't in a romantic sense obviously, but my dad. First band you obsessed about? I've only ever *truly* been obsessed with Ozzy Osbourne as a band, haha. First place someone took you on a date? I want to say a local skating rink. It was a group thing. How many doors are in the room you’re in? Two, if you include the closet door. Has anyone ever drawn a picture of you? Yes. Do you have any nieces or nephews? Quite a few. Which movie villain do you find the most terrifying? Well, if you've seen the scene where Pyramid Head literally rips a woman's skin off like a sheet in Silent Hill... u kno. I genuinely do find him to be a terrifying monster though, all bias aside. Humanoid monsters with ambiguous faces unsettle me. I wouldn't want that knife swingin at me, either. Do you get grumpy when you’re hungry? Yuuuup, I sure can. Do you stick your tongue out often in pictures? I have done that maybe twice in my whole life. Which one of your family members are you closest to? My mom. If chocolate was an illegal drug - would you be a drug addict? Nah. I'd be able to survive if it was illegal, but it would suck. Are you proud of your parents? Yes in some areas, no in some others. There are things both have said and/or done that I can't say I'm proud of them for, but overall, I am. Do you say “soda” or “pop”? "Soda." Are you shy about singing in front of people? YUP. I just don't do it. If you could get backstage tickets to ANY concert - which would you pick? Ozzy. :') It'd be fantastic to tell him thank you for his music that has always brought me joy and comforted me, and also let him know for sure just how strong he is and that it is absolutely not overlooked to still be nailing out an album while fighting Parkinson's. I'd probably start blubbering like a baby while rambling at some point, haha. Which is better: orange or grape soda? Orange. I don't like grape soda. Do you sleep with a sleep mask? Well, you could sort of call it that, ha ha. I have to wear an APAP mask to subdue my sleep apnea that causes wild nightmares/terrors. Do you like techno music? It's actually grown on me the past few months. Have you ever been drunk? No, I've never quite reached that point. I've only been tipsy. Are you mad at your best friend right now? Nope, got no reason to be. Do you know anybody with a pet snake? Yes, including myself. Is there any drink that you absolutely MUST drink cold? WATER. ABSOLUTELY WATER. I canNOOOOOOT do room temperature water anymore. It's gotta be pretty damn cold for me to drink it like it's nothin'. Have you ever painted anybody's nails aside from your own? No. Do you ever donate to the less fortunate? Mom likes to donate our old clothes and stuffed animals. Did you buy an American flag after 9/11 to put on your car/house/ whatever? I was a little kid when this happened, so. I don't know if my parents did. Honestly, do you have any Hilary Duff on your MP3 player? HA, I do. I love "Who's That Girl." When was the last time you had an ice cream sandwich? Wow, probably years... I really, really want one now, ha ha. Have you ever caught a friend cheating on their bf/gf? Well, my sister's friend, anyway. I was just sitting on the computer in the living room and there they were on the couch just casually making out. Do you enjoy doing math? Fuuuuck no. Do you think your mom has secrets she’s never told you? Oh, I know she does. There are things she's done that I know I have plenty of missing details from, but I don't ask because I know they're sensitive subjects. Do you own anything you don’t want your parents to know about? No. Do you pose in your pictures or just smile? I usually just smile. Do you use scented soap in the shower? Yes. It smells like cinnamon rolls and it is HEAVENLY. Did you ever want to be a fashion designer? No. Who was the last person you danced with? Enjoyable? Ha, Sara. Yeah. Dark or light colored jeans? Dark, 100%. I never wore light jeans. Can you take apart a computer and name all the parts? No sir. Can you take apart a car and name all the parts? That's an even bigger "no." Have you ever purchased a lotto ticket? No. What is the longest amount of time you've spent playing Monopoly? Idk. Have you ever witnessed a tornado first-hand? Thank fucking Christ I haven't. I am terrified of them. Have you ever colored your eyebrows? No. Have you ever taken another person's prescribed medication? Pain medicine, yes. Have you ever played golf (not miniature golf)? No. I'm not interested to, either. Have you ever gotten dressed with the windows open? I definitely don't believe so. Have you ever taken a shower outside? At the beach, yes. If you could call it a "shower." Have you ever been to a junkyard? No. Have you ever watched the History Channel willingly? No. If you could get the cell phone of your choice - what would it be? Probably a current iPhone. Apple is such a rip-off, but damn is the camera good lmao. Do you hand out candy to kids on Halloween? This will be my first Halloween in this house, so I really don't know if trick-or-treaters happen here. Do you like huskies? Love 'em, but I could neeeever own one with all that fur. What do you smell like? I'm always self-conscious over if I smell like sweat because of my hyperhidrosis. I hope not. Do you take your dog for walks? I don't have a dog. I used to take Teddy when he was younger, though. He loved those, but I stopped when I noticed his arthritis kicking in. Have you ever went paintballing? No. Seems stupid to me, honestly... Like that shit seems painful, so like, why??? What kind of movies are you drawn to? Horror and fantasy, mostly. I don't watch movies often. How often do you update your Facebook status? Just about never because I either just have nothing to say or am afraid of saying something stupid. I only ever share posts or pictures that appeal to me. What type of pet would you like to have? A Brazilian Black tarantula. :( I will whine about that until the day I get one, ha ha. I would also really, really like a plains hognose and a woma python. What breakfast are you most likely to have? Cereal. When you're starting to feel sick, you: It depends on what kind of "sick," but odds are I'm heading for the medicine cabinet. What colors are you most drawn to? Pastel ones. :') Light and pretty. What deadly sin are you most likely to commit? Sloth. When you're away from home, what makes you feel at home? "Having my stuff with me, like my laptop." <<<< Same. Do you prefer to lounge in a hot tub or swim in a pool? Swim. How many books do you have out in the public areas of your house? None. Who makes a better burger, in your opinion? Sonic. @_@ What do you like best about the holidays? Seeing my niece and nephew so excited. You think your eyes convey: Boredom, probably. Besides screaming for ice cream, what else do you scream for? If a bug surprises me by being on me. Well, depending on the bug. Do you like fried chicken? Noooo, it is so gross to me. What do you think of belly button piercings? They are SO cute imo. I want one, but I think it would look hideous on me. Maybe if I was actually thinner. Not saying bigger people can't wear belly button piercings, I just don't think it would look good on me. Do you like plain Lays potato chips? They're my favorite! I especially like the ruffled kind. Is there a big screen television in your house? In the living room, yeah. Would you rather no heat in winter or no A.C in summer? No heat in the winter, EASILY. I can't handle no A/C when it's hot. At least if you're cold, you can bundle up with tons of blankets. Have you ever had braces? I did for a long time because we couldn't afford to take them off. Do you do your own laundry? No, honestly. Mom likes to just do it all together, so I let her do it. Which do you prefer: English, Irish, or Australian accents? Irish. Is there anything on your bedroom door? Yeah! I got a "Meerkat Lover St." sign for my door. :') What is the best vegetable? Broccoli. Guys in eyeliner: Hot or not? That shit is h o t. Have you ever seen your favorite band live? No. :( Do you drink water or soda more often? Ugh, soda. Did you collect Pokemon cards back in the day? I didn't deliberately, but only because I was awkward about asking for Pokemon stuff because I thought people thought I was weird for being a girl and being obsessed with it. I think I got one pack. I really, really wish I'd been less self-conscious about that passion. Pet turtle: yay or nay? I'm personally not interested. Did anyone famous come from your town/city/school? Yeah, but I'm not sharing who. Have you ever seen a celebrity on the street? No. Have you ever pretended to be sick? To avoid school sometimes, yes. Can you ice skate? Never tried, too scared to. The blades terrify me. Do you have your nose pierced? No, but I want to have it redone. Do you loooove Tim Burton movies? I sure do! What arcade games do you like to play? I haven't been to an arcade in forever... but I liked the racing ones. What's the most expensive gift you've ever gotten for someone else? I'm not sure. Would you rather spend a whole day with your mom, or your dad? At this moment, probably my dad. We haven't hung out in a long time. What would you say if you found out your last ex was in a relationship? I'd be happy for her and tell her she'd better let me know if the person ever fucks up so I can kick some ass, ha ha. Are you easily confused? Very. I'm slow to understand things. Where was your MySpace/Facebook default taken? My bedroom. Can you whistle with your fingers in your mouth? No. I've never understood how that works. Do you like peanut butter? Love it.

[talesfromlissom]

First Time for Everything

(Lol, since it's Halloween. I decided to use my old au ‘Down on Cherry Lane.’. It was ultimately cancelled due to schoolwork and the motivation to do it slipping away, but either way. The idea itself was pretty cool. I decided to take that, and sort of do a civilian au, cause civilian au’s make me w e a k.

Anyways, in this, Cole is a highschooler. No elemental powers or anything. Also the reader is a werewolf. GOD I LOVE WEREWOLVES)

The first time you had been in a relationship was in your freshman year of high school. 

It wasn’t the best. Given that it was with a guy named Chad. And he wasn’t the best person to date either. He partied constantly, never texted or called you back, made fun of your interests, and was an overall asshole. So it was no surprise when he outed you to the entire school. 

It was the anger that came first, as you quickly became the laughing stock of the school. Words and things were thrown, sure, your friends didn’t disown you, but you could tell that the guys you were friends with kept their distance. 

It took about a month for it to die down, and it was no surprise when you figured out why. Another person was outed, a girl this time. She was head of the girl’s football team, most people just whispered about her, since they all knew she could, and would, beat their asses, for lack of a better term. 

Nya, that was her name. Through her, you were invited to an exclusive club, Ninjago. It wasn’t really an actual ‘club’ per say. It was more of a group that gathered together after school almost every day, doing whatever. It helped that the nephew of the principal and the son of the vice principal ran it. It was compiled of different kinds of people. People you saw get bullied in the locker room, the ones that sat in the back of the class and said nothing, the ones who answered all the questions. 

The ones failing all their classes, the ones in detention all the time, the teachers pets, it seemed that all the people who didn’t fit into a specific category, since that’s the only thing people cared about in high school, were here. So here you were. 

And then you met Cole, and things seemed to fall into place. You linked up quickly, enchanting phone numbers within the first week of meeting each other. It was almost a year since your friendship began, and two more before you and him both realized your feelings for each other. Finally, all homecoming was when you confessed. 

But that seemed to all come crashing down as well. 

                                                              _

Rushing through the forest and into the open street, still clutching your bleeding shoulder, you ran into the gas station, heart pounding. You turned to the forest, seeing the yellow eyes staring directly back at you.

A shiver went down your spine. 

“Hey, uh you-” A pause. 

Your eyes widen.

“(Y/N)? Holy crap, what happened!” The recognizable voice of Jay asked. “Jesus, did you get attacked by a bear or something?” 

“Something like that.” You reply, leaning into Jay’s hold. “You got any pain killers?”

Jay nods. “O-of course I do! I-I keep them for Nya, just-just uhm…” He leads you behind the counter, sitting you down on the chair in the corner near the cash register. 

“Just-just stay here okay? I’ll be right back, promise!” 

He rushes off, and into the back room. You lean your head against the wall, sighing through your nose, and shutting your eyes slightly. 

The room starts to spin in your vision when it snaps open, and the lights seem brighter than before. Voices are muffled, you hear clattering, but that soon fades when your vision turns black. 

                                                              _

You wake again with a nurse hovering over you, dabbing a wet washcloth on your forehead. You groan and turn your head to him. 

He comforts you, asking if you feel any pain, the usual nurse whatnot. 

You answer no to all those questions. And you’re surprised frankly, that you feel no pain in your shoulder anymore. 

The nurse walks to the door, and you fall asleep again.

                                                              _

Cole is the first visitor, accompanied by your parents. They bombard you with questions, your father cries. Your mother hugs you tight, and Cole litters your face with kisses. 

“What happened?”

You shrug, not bothering to sit up, despite how much you want too. “I...dunno...I was closing up the store when...I heard this panting behind me, saw this...big ugly wolf motherfu-” 

“(Y/N), language.” Your mother hisses. “I’ll put soap in your mouth for that.” She chuckles. 

You roll your eyes. “It uh..jumped at me, attacked me..chased me into the woods, bit me, and then I found the gas station and ran into Jay.”

“And thank god you did, that boy did an amazing job of stabilizing you,” Your father begins. “That boy should be a doctor when he grows up.”

“Jay’s dating someone who’s..uh..injury prone,” Cole mutters, and you laugh, thinking of the numerous times Jay’s had to patch up Nya. “it comes with experience.”

He turns back to you, clutching your hand.

“You’re..doing okay though..right?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah, m’ fine.” 

“That’s good..that’s real good.” 

                                                              _

By the time you are discharged, you already feel stress pilling on you. 

You return to school, looks being shot towards your direction, with whispers filling the hall. News has already spread of your attack. The shoulder doesn’t hurt, there’s scaring there, teeth marks, but it's so light against your skin it’s barely noticeable. 

But no, it’s the anxiety that fills your gut as the days grow on, but it becomes worse when you have no idea what’s happening. 

“(Y/N)?” 

Your snapped from your thoughts when you hear Cole’s voice as clear as daylight cut through your endless thinking. His hand is on your arm, soft. It feels so soft, and he smells so good.

“Are you wearing new cologne?” You hum, grinning slightly. You blink. That’s surely some new confidence. Even Cole seems surprised. 

“I don’t...wear cologne.” Cole says softly. 

“Oh.” You simply say, hearing the final bell go off in the distance, you shake your head. Has the bell always been this loud? 

“So uh, you doing anything tonight?” Cole asks. “It's Halloween, and Jay and the others are heading to Kai’s place to go trick or treating. Wanna come, we might egg Mr.Overlord’s house for the third year in a row. Zane’s gonna join this time.” 

You pause. It had completely slipped from your mind that today was Halloween. 

“I..don’t...I think I’ll stay home tonight.” You say. “I’ve haven’t been feeling well today.” 

Cole looks you up and down. “Alright, I’ll tell them, but..if you need anything just call me, okay?” He peppers a kiss on your cheek. 

“Bye.” 

You give a small wave, gathering your things in your backpack and swinging it over your shoulder. 

                                                             _

You figured your parents wouldn’t be home, since your mother takes the night shift, and your father was chaperoning for your little sister’s Halloween dance. And you brother is probably hanging with his friends and egging a house. Who knows, maybe Cole and his friends will meet them along the way. Despite the fact that Lloyd and your brother, Morro, don’t like each other very much. Cole somehow makes everyone get along with each other. 

So here you are, staring at the ceiling, and tossing and turning. You're sweaty, and you’ve been sweaty for a long time. Your window is open, with cool night air coming through it, and you hear laughter outside, trick or treaters most likely. 

Still, your shirt sticks to your chest and back. Slowly you sit up, your skin itches. 

You take a deep breath, another one, and another one, why is the room spinning. 

Your heart is pounding inside your skull, and your head hurts so much. You attempt to get up and out of the bed, but pain immediately fills your chest, gasping and sputtering, you attempt to grab your phone, only to roll off the bed. The pain comes next, almost as if your entire body is on fire, cracking noises fill your mind, and god you don’t know what’s happening, your brain is on autodrive at this point. Barely even registering your screams that are erupting from your mouth. 

You feel yourself curl in on yourself, skin splitting, blood falling onto the floor, the shirt you're wearing rips, before you realize that your fingernails have turned to claws, and even those hurt like hell. 

A voice cuts through your pain, and the thoughts swarming your head.

“Hello?” The voice sounds muffled, almost like it's underwater. “(Y/N)? I brought you some food, your favorite!” 

You scream again, hearing something clatter in the background. 

                                                           _

Cole’s feet thundered up the stairs, before he comes to your bedroom, hearing grunts and splitting, and noises he’s only heard in the movies. 

“(Y/N)?” He whispers, as the room goes silent. 

The door opens slowly, creaking filling his ears, as well as huffs. 

Cole’s eyes widen, staring at the writhing form on the floor. However, it’s head snaps towards him, yellow eyes fiery with rage and pure blood lust. 

Cole drops the bag of food, backing towards the stairs as the black mass creeps towards him. 

His lower lip quivers, and there was no way in hell that he was going to stay for much longer. His brain kept screaming at him to run, to do something other than sit there and stare at the thing. 

It howls, and runs at him, and Cole shrieks as he misses the top step, tripping and falling down the stairs. 

He ends up on the hardwood floor, he aches slightly, but he doesn’t feel anything broken or sprained. The thing jumps down from the top of the stairs, and it's at that moment, that his brain decides to work. 

He scrambles to his feet, sprinting towards the back door and throwing it open. He sees your backyard, toys and gardening tools scattered across it like you were in the middle of it. 

He hops over the garden, and towards the picket fence, almost hopping over it. 

He pulls himself up and over, just as he feels hot breath on his ankle. 

He falls onto the ground face first. Dirt in his mouth, and he tastes blood on his tongue. 

He climbs to his feet, taking off again, hearing huffs and growling behind him. He doesn’t bother to look back, at least until he’s in a public place. 

Bursting into the main street, sweaty, and lip bleeding, he does get a few strange looks. But most are just nods, they must assume he’s wearing a Halloween costume. 

He whips around towards the forest. He sees the eyes, god he sees them, but whatever that thing is, it isn’t following him through the crowd. Maybe he can make it back to his car?

No. Nobody really trick or treats on your street, most people on your street have young children. So the adults are usually trick or treating with their kids instead. 

He fishes through his coat pocket. But he finds nothing. Where was his phone? 

He hears something fall onto the pavement. 

His eyes widened. His phone, slobbery, bloody, slightly cracked. But the eyes hover right over it. He tenses, feels fear travel from his brain and down to his feet. 

He grits his teeth and turns his back to the thing. 

                                                         _

By now, he’s just walking down the street, trying to find the most crowded streets, and turning around immediately if he sees only one or two people. It’s twelve o’clock now, and he feels like bursting into tears as he sees even the most popular streets practically deserted. 

He’s travelling behind a group of teenagers, not from his school, so thankfully they don’t recognize or take any pictures of him. 

His hands are shoved into the pockets of his pants, partially to stop them from shaking so much. He’s still sweaty, knows that he can’t walk home from here, and knows that that thing is still after him. But why? Why him of all people? 

He couldn’t defend himself against that animal-like creature, Wu never taught him how to do that either. 

His phone is gone, he probably lost it when he fell down the stairs. Which is how that creature got it in the first place. But he lost track of it by now. Not that he’d bother trying to go back there anyways.

He doesn’t even realize he’s completely alone before the group ahead of him takes a turn into a house, and hears them being scolded by a woman before the door is shut and locked. 

Cole gulps, hearing nothing but wind around him. A few cars roll by, headlights bright, brighter than he knew they were. His heart is pounding, and he feels his mouth become dry, drier than it was before that is. 

He gulps, and begins to walk down the street, a chill running down his back. So far, he hears nothing. No chatter, no cars, no panting in the distance. 

He lets out a screech when a hand falls onto his shoulder. Whipping around, Cole punches the figure as hard as he can. 

They in turn, cry out. 

“OW! Cole what the hell!” 

Cole’s eyes widened. 

“Skylor? What are you-”

“Yeah, it's me dipshit, what are you doing all the way out here, we’ve been looking all over for you!” 

Cole stares. “What do you mean?”

“Neighbors heard screaming at (Y/N)’s house almost two hours ago, and they saw you enter the house but when you didn’t come out they feared for the worst, they called the cops and everything. Me and the others have been searching the entire town for you, your phone was found absolutely destroyed, what...what happened.” 

Cole looks towards the ground. 

“I...I don’t...I don’t know! I-I went to (Y/N)’s house and this-this thing it was all...all bloody and violent, it chased me out and tried to attack me I think! Hell, it even tried to use my phone to lure me back towards it!”

Skylor raises an eyebrow. “Was it human?”

“N-no! God no! It-shit-I-I didn’t get a good look at it.” 

Skylor nods her head. “Alright, c’mon. Let’s go to my car and I’ll take you to my place, okay?” 

                                                             _

When Cole wakes up in the morning, he’s covered by a thick fleece blanket. He feels someone poke him in the cheek, and he groans, batting the hand away. Before the smell of cologne hits him that is.

His head lifts up. 

“Kai?” Cole asks. 

Kai grins. “Hey there, it seems you and I had the same idea.” He says. “I went over to Skylor’s place after we egged all those houses.” 

Cole doesn’t reply.

“I-I already told Skylor everything-”

“I know, in...all honesty it sounds like a wolf..or a...a bear got into (Y/N)’s house, but that-that’s impossible.”

“Well, he...he was complaining about not feeling well,” Cole wonders. “Maybe..maybe he forgot to lock a door, or maybe he left a door open?” 

Kai shakes his head. “That..doesn’t sound like (Y/N)...but it...might’ve happened,” He turns to Cole. “how are you holdin’ up?”

“Fine,” Cole replies. “Just fine. Little uh...scared to go out at night...but...yeah.” 

“That’s good, your..uh..dad is here by the way.” 

Cole groans. “Why?”

“Uh, cause he’s your dad?” Kai pauses. “Although, he’s really pissed, told Skylor he doesn’t want you to go anywhere after school anymore.”

Cole groans. “Ah, he’ll be over it in a day or two.” Cole replies. “I just...hope that (Y/N)’s at school tomorrow.” 

Kai shakes his head. 

“Hope so too, maybe he got scared and went somewhere else?” Kai says, as Cole gets up and stretches. “He’ll probably show up tomorrow, or call you later.” 

“Yeah, I hope so.” 

                                                  ──•~❉+❉~•──

Rules

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Ask Box (Requests are open!)

[sserpente]

A/N: Here’s to the first Halloween Imagine this year! I can’t believe September is almost over already. Request from @amaru163​, @primestefericirea and anon. Enjoy, everyone! ♥

Words: 2262 Warnings: brief mentions of attempted rape

Moaning, you shut off the TV and then threw the remote on the empty spot on the sofa next to you. Hocus Pocus was a classic Halloween movie and perfect for cuddling up with pumpkin spice tea and Halloween candy… but at the end of the day, the boy got the girl and they kissed and lived happily ever after.

It wasn’t even Christmas yet—you forbad yourself to sulk away and cry over being so lonely; and going out on Halloween, dressed in an uncomfortable costume, wasn’t really your thing either, even if your friends had insisted you came along to meet someone. Since the incident with your spiked drink and the two American men who had tried to rape you in the backyard before your friend found you and stepped in, you hardly felt like partying out in public anymore.

You’d rather spend the day giving out candy to costumed children and then curl up in bed with a good book, wishing you would not have to spend the spooky day alone. With a sigh you closed your eyes, the clock striking midnight. 31st of October… well… Happy Halloween to me.

It was time to go to bed anyway.

-

The next morning started unspectacular, even though it was a perfect October day. Fog crept through the streets, the cold autumn air uniting with a grey sky. The wind was chilly—you were glad to be too old to go trick or treating. You would have been freezing today, especially in the witch costume you used to wear.

Humming to yourself, you poured yourself a cup of coffee and then prepared a bowl of treats which you placed next to the door. You had a few more hours until the first children would excitedly ring your doorbell and until then, decorating a bit surely wouldn’t do any harm. You always left your Halloween decorations up until mid-November anyway.

It was then somebody knocked on your door, making you frown. It was way too early for trick or treaters. You suspected it to be the postman but even he usually did not stop by before twelve—one of the disadvantages living in a small and secluded house in the suburbs. But that also meant that visitors were a rarity. Only the children knew that they’d collect a lot of candy here.

You heard the knocking again, this time more urgently, ferociously even. Almost as if somebody was sliding down your door after being beaten up…

Quickly, you threw on your bathrobe and hurried to the door, eyes darting around to find a suitable weapon—just in case. The metal shoehorn would have to suffice; but what you saw when you opened the door made you gasp.

There was a man, panting and barely conscious. A tall man with long black hair and the most beautiful face you had ever seen, cowering on the ground like a parched traveller in the desert. Your eyes met—his of a stunning blue—then, they flattered close.

Your first instinct was it to call an ambulance, the police, anybody. But something held you back. This just didn’t make any sense. Where did he come from? The passed out man before you had, apart from a few minor cuts on his face, no visible injuries and he did not look drugged either. Just very tired and exhausted, like he had just returned from a war and now the weight of what he had seen and done was taking its toll both on his body and mind. It could be a trick, too. A burglar using his acting skills and then overwhelming you once you dragged him inside, practically inviting him to rob you.

Still… you couldn’t just leave him out here to die. It was cold… and it was Halloween. Perhaps your wish had been heard and you wouldn’t have to be alone after all. If the stranger woke up, that was.

 -

He was heavier than he looked. You had barely heaved him on your sofa when he opened his eyes again, seemingly appreciating the soft surface you were attempting to steer him onto. As soon as his body hit the fabric, he fell asleep again.

For a moment, you simply stared down at him, blinking. None of your friends would believe you if you told them what was happening here right now. What if he was severely sick? Should you call an ambulance after all?

Biting your lower lip, you decided against it and instead hurried to the bathroom to empty your medicine cabinet, returning with some gauze and antiseptic.

You longed to find out his name, who he was. But for now, you would tend to the wounds on his face. There was a cut on his forehead that, by the looks of it, didn’t need stitching, another one on his left cheek. He had a split lip, too.

He looked so peaceful and innocent. Like a boy who had been forced to grow up too soon and at the same time… like a dominant man who took what he wanted no matter the cost. Like a man who would hide his true feelings and protect his heart because it had been broken one time too often. You couldn’t deny he looked familiar too. And those clothes… so old-fashioned and… otherworldly. He was wearing green and black leather armour combined with golden accents and plates. Probably just a Halloween costume.

The stranger took another hour to come about again. Time which you made use of by finally getting changed into proper clothes. You had just sat back down on the sofa with him, watching him intently and checking if his wounds had started to bleed again when his eyes fluttered open and your gazes met.

His widened, as if something occurred to him. Sitting up so fast his vision must have gone black for a moment, he grunted when a stinging pain cursed through his head. He hated to admit that his unexpected fall from the Bifrost had drained him completely and now, being far away from a realm sizzling with magic, his energy would take a lot longer to replenish. He was tired, hungry and worn out. Well… he shouldn’t be surprised. Coming to Midgard had never been a joyful experience before.

Your house had been the only one in sight and he needed a safe place to recover. He would positively kill Thor once he found a way back to Asgard. It wasn’t the first time he had been banished to Midgard, after all.

The mortal was staring at him like he was alien. He was, technically. But Loki was certainly not in the mood for explanations. He had to admit you were rather beautiful though—for a human that was.

“Who are you?” You heard yourself whisper.

The stranger sighed. “I am Loki, of Asgard. You may have heard of me.”

Then it dawned on you. Loki. Asgard. Of course you had heard of him—and of the incident in New York. You had taken in a known criminal and treated his wounds. Your heart started beating rapidly at the realisation.

When you said nothing, he spoke up. “And who might you be?”

“I… (Y/N). My name is (Y/N).”

“(Y/N),” he nodded. A pleasant shiver went through you when he spoke your name with his smooth and velvety voice. “It looks just like I will be keeping you company for a while.”

Standing, he took in his surroundings. “It will suffice.”

“Excuse me? You can’t just make yourself comfortable here. I didn’t invite you!”

“Technically, you did when you helped me inside your home and took care of my wounds. I heal faster than mortals.” He said it like it had been an unnecessary and pointless action.

“I was just trying to help.” You glared at him, unable to believe what you were hearing.

“Thank you very much for your hospitality,” he replied dramatically, slightly rolling his eyes in the process. “Where are your kitchens?”

“Kitchens? I only have one.” He waved it off. “Straight ahead, you can’t miss it.” You followed him when he turned on his heel and began to search your kitchen like a cat hoping to steal a piece of meat or a slice of ham and soon, unceremoniously, practically ripped open your fridge. There were leftovers from yesterday’s dinner as well as some yogurt and carrots. You had planned on going shopping today. Loki grunted at the pitiful selection and took it all without asking. Then, he slammed the fridge shut again, grabbing the bag of bread rolls on the counter too.

“Of course, help yourself.” You murmured contritely. When he only rolled his eyes in response and barely managed to find some cutlery to dig in still standing, you threw your arms up, desperate for someone, anyone to explain this bizarre situation to you.

“What on Earth happened? Why were you knocking on my door like somebody tried to murder you? How did you even get here?”

Loki swallowed a big bite. He glanced at you in such a menacing manner, you took a step back. Perhaps you should have called the police, after all.

“Do you have hot chocolate? And coffee?” He suddenly asked. You blinked.

“I… yes. I mean, no.” Loki raised an eyebrow at you. “I mean, yes I do but not for you. Answer my questions, Loki.”

Loki dropped the cutlery onto the counter with such force the ear-piercing sound made you flinch.

“I was banished, if you must know. Thor had me leave Asgard because he no longer trusts me… and the people urged him on too…” He trailed off. “I refused. Believe me, my unfortunate fall and inelegant landing on Midgard was not planned.”

“Thor? Out of all places, why would he send you to Earth? You tried to subjugate us!”

Loki’s blue eyes locked with yours yet again, thousands of unspoken words reflecting in them. There was a story behind it—a story which he was not quite willing to tell you.

“Sorry… I just meant…”

“Midgard was not the final destination.” He interrupted you sharply—but not before smirking weakly but mischievously. “This place is void of magic. I will need some time to recover in peace. I assume you have chambers for me to rest in?”

“I don’t have chambers, I have bedrooms. And there is a guest room upstairs.” There was no point in kicking him out. Surely, Loki would simply take what he wanted if you denied him. At least this way, he was asking nicely… more or less; and besides, you had hoped for a miracle to happen so you wouldn’t be alone on Halloween.

He wasn’t so bad… apart from being outrageously handsome, he was by far as charming as arrogant when he smirked at you like that. And for some reason… you doubted he would seriously threaten or harm you.

You almost giggled at trying to explain trick or treating to him.

“Now, what about that hot chocolate?”

“Oh, fine then.”

-

After slurping down the cocoa you made him and eating up almost all of the food you had had left in your house, Loki retreated to your guest room and did not return until noon. You were quite surprised he only needed a few hours of sleep for some fresh energy, which is why he completely caught you off guard when he suddenly appeared behind you in the living room, watching you with his head tilted how you balanced on a chair to hang up some spooky pumpkin lights.

“I am dreading to ask but what are you doing?”

You screeched, almost falling off the chair as you turned around to face him. “Couldn’t you clear your throat or something? And now don’t tell me you don’t know what Halloween is…”

Loki frowned in response, waiting for you to speak on.

“It’s today. People dress up in costumes and celebrate and children go from house to house to ask for candy to scare away ghosts and evil spirits. I’m decorating. Jack-o-Lanterns are the most common item you’ll find around houses on this day. Don’t you celebrate Halloween on Asgard?”

He shook his head. “What we celebrate towards the end of autumn is Álfablót, to worship our ancestors and honour the life force of a family. It does not involve carved pumpkins though.”

“Must be weird for you…” You muttered sarcastically, attempting to stick a piece of tape around your curtain rail.

“It is by far not the strangest thing I have seen mortals do during all the times I visited Midgard.”

“The first children will be here soon, I need to have decorated until then. You could help me instead of standing around. Consider it paying your rent.”

Loki smirked, making your heart jump; almost as if he meant to say challenge accepted. With but a wave of his hand, the pumpkin lights stuck to the curtain rail on its own.

“Huh.”

But it didn’t end there. You let out a scream when you suddenly felt the orange and black tinsel from your Halloween decorations box slowly creeping up and curling around your leg like a snake.

“Loki!”

This time, the God of Mischief actually chuckled. He dropped the spell when you threatened to lose your balance and fall off the chair yet again. When you turned back around, he was leaning against the threshold with his arms crossed in an amused manner.

He certainly was going to have his fun while he was here. You were quite adorable, after all.

-

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[something-tofightfor]

Someone Else (Billy Russo x Reader)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 6000 (ON. THE. DOT.)

Rating: R. Mentions of violence, casual sex, Punisher S1/ partial S2 references. 

Summary: The first Halloween spent with Billy after his name has been cleared doesn’t go quite according to plan. 

Author’s Note: This is for @forever-rogue​‘s Halloween Challenge. It’s technically a one-shot, but it takes place in the same AU as Restart - a few months before that one.

I chose the three following prompts: 

“I hate costumes. There is no way in hell I am dressing up.” 

“Is that red syrup? Please tell me it’s syrup.”

“10 pumpkins for our porch? That seems excessive.”

If you wanna be tagged in something (or removed!) let me know.

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @obscurilicious @sweetybuzz25 @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @gollyderek @poindexted @ificouldhelpyouforget @elanor-of-imladris @thesandbeneathmytoes @luminex3 @geeksareunique @weallhaveadestiny @mfackenthal @thesumofmychoices @yannii04 @beautiful-thinking @drinix @agentlingerie  @blah-blah-fuckit-shit  @dreams-with-thoughts  @wangmangagavroche​

Billy Russo:

@nananananananananananabatman @damalseer @chibiyanai @life-is-a-melody @songtoyou​

Uncategorized:

@banditthewriter​ @padfootagain​ @madamrogersstorytelling​ @ethereal-heavcns​ @editboutique​ @marauderskeeper​ @ilkaeliseb​ @delicatelilyflower​ @king4thesirens​ @ymariejp​ @mr-robot-x​ @rageshots​ @littlemermaidprobz​ @introvertedlibrary​ @writing-for-a-chance​ @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals​ @likeorions​ @swiftyhowlz​ @dylanobrusso​ @malik-payne​ @lynne1993​ @traeumerinwitzhelden​ @ladyblablabla​ @dreamwritesimagines​ @audreychaz​ @tc-elliot @kind-wolf​ @honeyydippaa​ @binbonsadoration​ @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes​ @ms-delos​ @jeanettexkillian​ @avengerswhore​ @elioelioeli0​ @projectcampbell​ @giggleberts​ 

“I’m comin’ home, you there?” You cleared your throat, reaching out with one hand to adjust the pumpkin you’d just placed on the top step.  I am. “Want me to stop and grab dinner?” 

 “No, Billy.” You sighed, turning and planting yourself, feet flat and looking out at the street. “I’ll cook, I can go in and start now that I know you’ll be back soon.” He laughed and you heard the noise of cars honking in the background. 

 “You’re outside? What are you doin’?” A door slammed and the traffic noises stopped. He just got in the car, means he’ll be here in less than twenty. 

 “You’ll see, Billy.” Tilting your head to hold the phone between your ear and shoulder, you looked to your right at the orange gourds that lined the steps. “I’ll let you go so you can focus on the road.” He laughed again, quietly agreeing with you and even after you’d hung up the phone, you stayed seated, eyes on the pumpkins and a small frown on your face. Things were slowly getting back to normal for the two of you, and Billy - along with Frank and Curtis - had just re-opened Anvil. You knew that even though the company had initially been founded with dirty money, Billy’s goal was to help others like himself - displaced military vets that still wanted to serve and protect those around them, and so after the trial had ended - Billy (and Frank) getting cleared - going back to what he knew had been a logical step. 

 You’d moved into the Brownstone before he’d been officially exonerated, and though he’d been deemed a flight risk, Matt and Foggy had been willing to vouch for Billy, proving that he’d need to stay in New York City for his continuing medical care  - and that he had something else that would stop him from leaving: you. It had taken months of patience and convincing, but when armed with the truth, Billy had been more inclined to believe that you’d never stopped loving him, and had started to forgive himself for what he’d done to everyone. That happening had been like flipping a switch; memories started coming back, interactions with Billy seemed more real, and with each passing day, Billy’s wounds - both on the surface and in his mind - healed further. 

 You glanced down at your left hand, the glittering diamond still shocking you with its presence, and smiled for a moment before standing and heading for the door. Billy’s proposal only ten days after winning his case had been a total shock. You knew that he cared for you, knew that he loved you, but hadn’t thought that he’d ever actually ask you to marry him, even though you’d hoped it would happen at some point. But he did. Hand on the doorknob, you looked back over your shoulder at the steps, taking one last breath of the crisp Autumn air before you entered your house, the door clicking shut behind you. 

 --- 

 Thirty minutes later, you were pulling chicken out of the oven when you heard the front door close again and Billy’s heavy footsteps moving down the hallway toward you. “Hey.” Grinning, you turned to face him after putting the baking dish down onto one of the unused stove burners. “So, there are like 10 pumpkins for our porch? That seems excessive, doesn’t it?” Making a face at him, you shrugged your shoulders. 

 “It’s Halloween, Billy, I just… I don’t know, it looks nice.” Narrowing his eyes, Billy stepped toward you, one hand up and moving slowly over the top of his head, the hair there still short. “It’s the first real holiday that we’ll have here, and …”

 “Yeah, I know.” Billy cleared his throat. “I just… you expectin’ trick or treaters?” No, but… “This isn’t the neighborhood for that, maybe in our old buildings, but not…” He sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t even think there are kids on this street.” There aren’t, but we’re so close to Central Park… “They wouldn’t come here anyway, where we live ain’t exactly a secret.” 

 “Billy, what is that supposed to mean?” You stepped toward him, shaking your head. “We live in the nice neighborhood now, that means we’d have good candy.” He didn’t even crack a smile and so you stepped closer, reaching up to put a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” He looked down at you, lips twisted into a frown and shook his head, jaw working as he clenched it. 

 “You know how everyone looks at me, what they think.” Billy swallowed, shaking his head and moving his hands to your waist. “When we go out? When they come in to Anvil, when I’m walkin’ down the damn street… people are afraid of me, you know? They see… this shit.” He gestured to his face, nose wrinkling. “They see it and they look horrified, and they know.” You lifted the hand from his shoulder to his face, thumb moving over the scar on his cheek, entirely visible above his neatly trimmed beard. “They know what they saw on TV and they know what she still says, and…” His grip on you tightened, and you didn’t know if it was a conscious movement or not, but you didn’t mind. After waiting almost two years to feel his hands on you, you didn’t take any of his touches for granted. 

 “Billy.” You closed your eyes for a second and then opened them, raising the other hand to the side side of his face and forcing him to look at you. “They don’t know shit. Madani’s never going to let it go, she still thinks…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “She’s got it out for you, and I understand it, but look at Anvil. Look at how many recruits you have. They believe in you. They… trust you, Billy, and want to work for you and with you.” His frown lessened, brow smoothing out. “People know you, Billy. That’s true, but they just recognize you. Think about how they look at Frank. He’s The Punisher, Billy. It doesn’t matter that his name was cleared, that’s still… God, and if you think people are afraid of you? Imagine how they feel about him.” You didn’t need to say it; the scarring on Billy’s face was a constant reminder of what Frank was capable of - and Billy had been his best friend. He had his reasons, but… 

 “You’re right.” Billy licked his lips, nodding. “You’re right a lot.” You winked at him, and before you could respond, Billy ducked his head to kiss you, hands leaving your hips, his arms circling your waist. “And they look nice.” He kissed you again, sighing. “The pumpkins I mean.” I know they do. “So what’s for dinner?” Laughing, you pinched his cheek and turned away from him. 

 “Chicken, Russo. Chicken and rice.” 

-- 

 “I hate costumes. There is no way in hell I am dressing up.” You fought back a smile, watching as Billy held the invitation up, shaking his head. “Karen thinks she can just-”

 “Billy, if Karen sent that invitation, and it says ‘costume required’, you will be wearing a costume, or you won’t be going.” You shrugged. “You know how she is, better than anyone except maybe Frank.” He grumbled, setting the invitation down on the countertop. “Let me see that.” Pushing it over toward you, Billy crossed his arms over his chest, watching silently as you picked up the card, eyes moving over it. Party at the Anvil facility the Saturday before Halloween. Costume mandatory for entry. “We’ll figure out a costume, Billy, it doesn’t have to be -” 

 “I’m not going.” He shrugged and your jaw dropped as you looked up at him. “If I don’t wear a costume, then I don’t have to -”

 “Billy, that’s bullshit.” You stepped over toward him and jabbed a finger into his chest, shaking your head. “They invited you. Karen wants you there. It’s our friends, Billy. Your friends.” He sighed, not meeting your eyes. “Look.” You pressed your lips together. “Come sit.” Leading him to the living room, he lowered himself onto the couch, pulling you down onto his lap and encircling you with his arms as you laid your head against his chest. You sat quietly for a few minutes, you thinking about what you wanted to say. He can only get mad, it’s not… “Billy, do you realize what Halloween is?” 

 “What?” He scoffed. “A holiday for kids to dress up and scare each other? For adults to get drunk and -”

 “It’s a chance to be someone or something else.” You sat straight up, fingers on the top of his head again, nails scratching over his scalp. “You think that people look at you funny? You don’t want them to see your face or see the scars? This is the perfect holiday for you. Wear a mask, put on face paint, whatever, but you don’t…” You closed your eyes, shaking your head. “You wanna be something different? You can be, for one night.” 

 “I already…” He sniffed. “For more than a year, I pretended to be someone else.” Oh. “I woke up every mornin’ and put on a goddamn suit and I went to work and it wasn’t me, but it was who I had to be.” His hand moved up and down your arm, the other one resting on your lap. “A lot of it’s still… not there yet, but I remember feelin’ like it wasn’t real, none of it.” He pulled you closer, and you felt his nose in your hair, lips pressed to your temple. “I remember the way you looked at me, the first time you saw me after I… when we weren’t together.” Oh, no. “That was real. And if that’s what it feels like to be someone else, I don’t want to. Not ever again.” 

 “Billy, that’s not what I meant.” You tilted your head, reaching up again to stroke his cheek with the back of your finger. “I know what you still think of yourself, right? You think that all of this makes you…” You swallowed. “Ugly. But it doesn’t. It’s a part of you, Russo. I told you once before that any of your scars coulda come from anything, and I still mean it. I don’t care that you have them. I’m always going to be proud to be seen with you.” His lips jerked, is if he was trying to conceal a smile, and you continued. “I love you, Billy. I never stopped, even after… even when you were in the hospital.” 

 “But you knew.” He shook his head, voice quiet. “You knew because you had all that shit I left you, and so you had… fuck, you had everything and it still almost wasn’t enough.” This isn’t even about Halloween anymore, what’s happening? “After what I did to you, you should have hated me. It doesn’t matter why -” 

 “Are you kidding me, Billy?” You sat up straight, shaking your head and shifting on his lap, your hands on his shoulders. “Never.” His eyes narrowed, darkening, but it wasn’t in the way you loved to see, instead it was what you’d gotten used to seeing when Billy was angry with himself. 

 “I’m not. Even knowing what you did, I can’t believe you didn’t just take all that money and leave me to fuckin’ rot in that hospital and then in jail. I didn’t actually do it, but I killed the Castles. I -”

 “Billy, you did it to save me.” Your voice quiet, you leaned in, pressing your forehead to his and shaking your head. “How could I abandon you? If you hadn’t ever met me, you would have warned Frank. You would have found a way to make it right. You wouldn’t have had to choose…” You paused, taking a deep breath. This hasn’t come up before, not like this. “I didn’t want your money, Billy. I wanted you. Just you. How many times am I gonna need to tell you that?” You felt the skin of his face tighten as he curled his lip, his hands gripping your hips. “I would have figured something out even if you hadn’t left me anything.” 

 You kissed him, lips pressing against his for a moment and then took a deep breath, trying to steady your heartbeat. You knew he still felt guilty and always would, even though he’d had a logical reason for making the decision he had. He’ll never feel as guilty as I do. You knew that even though Frank and Curtis were working with him at Anvil, there’d always be a chasm between the three of them even if it only existed in Billy’s still partially fractured mind. But there doesn’t have to be. “I thought I was gonna die that night, on the carousel?” Billy cleared his throat, voice low. “I figured I’d leave you everythin’ that meant anything to me, and so at least you’d know, right? I wouldn’t be here with you, but I… I didn’t deserve to be, so I was doin’ what I could to…”

 “Billy.” You closed your eyes and let out a breath, pulling your face back from his so that you could look into his eyes again. “You deserve to be here. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to …” You trailed off, eyes going to your left hand. “You did a lot of bad shit. You and Frank did a lot of bad shit, but you…”

 “I had a choice. We had a choice, at least somewhat. I didn’t have to… I was selfish. I wanted to be someone, and I took the coward’s way out, and I -”

 “Billy, you did what you had to do to survive. You didn’t start Cerberus. You didn’t start the heroin smuggling. You didn’t assign yourself all those shitty missions.” It’s not an excuse. Not at all. “You can’t tell a superior no over there, Billy. You had no reason to believe they were lying to you guys, and by the time you figured it out…” You shrugged. “It was too late. And then it was just you trying to keep your head above water.” Billy let go of your waist with one hand, his fingertips moving over your brow and then into your hair as he frowned, lower lip jutting out slightly. “I love you, Russo. It took me too long to say it before, and I know you didn’t want to hear it while you were in the hospital, but this is another chance for you - and for us - and I’m not going to waste it.”

 “It’s more’n the scars.” He sniffed, fingers curling in your hair and pulling gently. “It’s how I feel on the inside sometimes.” Billy paused and you waited, silently. He’d refused to see a psychiatrist after what had happened with the one they’d appointed him in the hospital, but you knew that he was still attending Curtis’ group sessions once a week and speaking with the man one-on-one more than that in an attempt to vocalize his feelings. “I feel…” Billy licked his lips. “I feel ugly. Like people can look at me and see everything that’s wrong with me.” Billy looked down, his other hand leaving your waist and you dropped yours from his shoulder, twining your fingers with his without hesitation. Giving his hand a squeeze, you continued to wait. “I… like with Madani.” You flinched at his use of her name, but gave no other reaction. “She looks at me and sees the man that killed her partner, the one that shot her, that didn’t give a shit about her, but still…” He let out a breath, the air leaving his lips in a shudder. “She looks at me like I look at me, like everyone should…”

 “Stop.” You spoke firmly. “Billy, she’s obsessed with you. She can’t… she looks at you that way because it helps her sleep at night to pretend she played no part in anything that happened. She used you for information about Frank, about Cerberus, about Rawlins and about everything. She let herself…’ Fall in love with you? Care about you? “...get in too deep, too quick, and it backfired on her, and she doesn’t know how to handle that. They tried to pin everything on you and Lewis because they didn’t want to admit that the CIA was…” You shook your head. “She still thinks you’re faking it, I’m sure of it, thinks you remember everything and that…”

 “I remember her, but I don’t remember her.” He leaned in, breath warm against your cheek as his mouth moved toward your ear. “An’ I kinda hope that I never do, because…” He stopped. “Because I don’t know what would be worse - remembering that I was just usin’ her too, or remembering that part of me cared about her.” You knew that this was possible; Billy hadn’t been able to remember what his feelings for the woman had truly been, but you weren’t worried, even though you knew it bothered him not to know. “I know I didn’t love her.” He sighed, mouth lingering against your skin. “I know that for sure, but…” You moved your hand to the back of his head, fingers spread out against the soft, close cropped hair. I know. “But we’re gettin’ sidetracked,” he murmured, teeth closing gently around your earlobe. “How’d we go from talkin’ about Halloween to talkin’ about her?” You shrugged, unwilling to separate from him even though it seemed that the topic was closed for the moment. Oh well. “If I gotta dress up, I guess I have to pick a costume.”

 “No mask?”

 “No mask.” He kissed your cheek, pulling away and leaning against the back of the couch, his hand dropping from your head to your shoulder and giving you a small smile. “I can’t hide this. They’re part of me now, right?” You nodded. “We’ll figure it out. But right now?” He cocked his head to the side, the small smile replaced with a larger, more genuine one. “We need to eat, because I had a long day at work and you know what that means.” You bit your lip and stared at him for a few seconds before pulling yourself off of his lap, holding a hand out to him. Cheeks growing warm, you nodded. I know exactly what that means. 

 --- 

 “Billy, we’re going to be late!” You were finishing with your accessories - slipping on large, gold hoop earrings and securing your gun belt around your waist and over your shoulder. “I’m going to call the Uber, and…” He didn’t respond, so you rolled your eyes, turning away from the mirror and reaching for your hat. In the time between receiving the invitation from Karen and the night of the party, you and Billy had traded ideas for costumes with each other - and when he’d finally told you that he chose something for himself, you’d been thrilled. It’s about damn time. 

 You’d picked your costume out quickly, opting for a pirate outfit that consisted of an off the shoulder white blouse with billowy sleeves that was long enough for the tattered ends to double as the bottom layer of the skirt, peeking out from beneath the actual skirt - royal blue with golden edging and a layer of black lace. A blue, white and gold brocade-patterned vest, a pair of over-the knee- black boots and your hair secured over one shoulder with the ends curled completed the look. Perfect. 

 Billy wasn’t downstairs either, and as you moved from room to room, searching, you began to worry. I didn’t hear him leave, where is he? By the time you made your way back into the front hall, phone in hand, you were considering calling him, but the creak of the steps stopped you. Eyes moving up, you felt your breath catch as you saw Billy’s legs descending the stairs. Oh my God. He was wearing a suit - not one of the ones he’d worn during the trial, but a new one, the sleek material clinging to his body in all the right places, and though you’d seen him naked plenty of times, felt his body beneath your hands and mouth, you were struck by how much healthier he looked, how much he’d filled out after leaving the hospital. “Billy, I -” He reached the bottom of the steps, hand gripping the railing and your words caught in your throat again as you saw his face. Billy had been growing his beard out for almost two weeks, refusing to shave, not even cleaning up his neck… and now you knew why. Though short and sparse in some areas, Billy’s facial hair was back to how it had been prior to him leaving you, prior to him getting into the fight with Frank. He looks… and his hair, rather than being so short it was almost buzzed was almost long enough for you to tug on, the front already growing back into the casual drape over one eye that you’d missed. Holy shit. 

 He eyed you, not speaking as you did the same to him, gaze lingering on the way his hands looked, emerging from the ends of his sleeves, the way that the jacket was pulled taut over his broad chest, the way his tie - a deep red - was knotted tightly around his throat, standing out from the bright white of the shirt beneath it. He’d always looked good in suits, but you’d never thought that he would choose to wear one as a costume. His face, he… The look on Billy’s face was familiar to you; a cool, collected confidence that was enhanced by the set of his jaw, the faint gleam in his eyes. This isn’t Billy, it’s Mr. Russo. Is this his idea of a costume? The thought - and a slight discomfort with it - only stayed in your mind for seconds until Billy spoke. “You like?” He raised one eyebrow, the smirk on his face growing and you finally laughed, clapping your hands as you stepped toward him, one hand going to his chest. 

 “That’s so good, Billy.” The smirk had revealed one pointed tooth, but your reaction caused him to smile broadly, revealing the other. Vampire Billy. Jesus take the wheel. The hand not on the railing reached into his pocket, pulling out a flask that was made to look like a blood bag and you laughed again, shaking your head. “It’s simple, but it’s good.” He stepped down and toward you, causing you to step backwards, his hand wrapping around your waist as he pressed his lips to yours gently, not wanting to smudge your lipstick. “C’mon, I’ll order the car, we can wait out on the porch.” 

 Pulling out of his grip, you opened the app on your phone, entered in the address for Anvil, and ordered the ride, telling Billy that it would be to your place in ten minutes before turning and walking out the front door, skirt moving around your thighs. 

 “You can’t wear that in public.” Billy spoke from behind you, still standing in the doorway. “That skirt… everyone’s gonna look at you and…” You looked over your shoulder at him, setting your hat and phone down on the brick ledge. Yeah, it’s Halloween, that’s the point. “You gotta put on pants or tights or somethin’...” He frowned, biting down gently on his lower lip, the points of his teeth visible in the overhead light. 

 “That’s why I picked it, Billy.” You stepped toward him, reaching up for his tie. “Wanted you to have easy access.” His eyes widened and you tugged him forward, fingers closing around the silk. “Putting pants on would defeat the purpose.” He sighed, lowering his face to yours as the door closed behind him. “Besides…” Your teeth grazed his cheek. “Anyone that would hit on me at Anvil in front of you has a death wish.” Billy finally laughed, arms going around your waist. 

 “You’re right.” He kissed you on the jaw, sighing again. “Was your costume expensive?” You shook your head, telling him no, and before you could get another word out, he spoke again. “Good.” One of his arms rose, taking your hair into his hand and pulling your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. You cried out as you felt a pinch against your skin, Billy biting down, and then the next thing you knew, you felt a warm liquid trailing down your neck and toward your blouse’s collar. He fucking bit me? Your grip on his tie tightened and you pushed against his hip with your other hand. 

 “Billy! What…” He stood up straight and your eyebrows shot up as you saw red around his mouth and dripping down his chin. “Is that red syrup? Please tell me it’s syrup.” Billy grinned, shrugging his shoulders as his tongue moved across his lower lip, your hand pulling away from his tie to go toward your neck. “Billy, you bit...”

 “It’s fake blood. Stop.” He pulled your hand up to his mouth, stopping you from touching your own skin and dropping another kiss to the inside of your wrist, leaving another bloody mark there. “Now it looks like -” You cut him off as you lunged forward, mouth on his as you kissed him hard, tongue slipping past his lips as you raised both arms, hands moving through his hair. He held you close, and though you knew that when you pulled apart, you’d have the fake blood all over your mouth and lower face, you didn’t care. He’s trying to make sure… Billy before the Incident wouldn’t have worried that you’d look elsewhere - that you’d let anyone else catch your eye… but now? He was terrified that you’d wake up one day and look at him, deciding the scars and his past were too much. Since you were pulling him out of his comfort zone and into the center of a large crowd for the party, he was doing his best to take control of the situation -  marking you as his, as if the large diamond on your finger wouldn’t do the job. Billy pulled back from you to take a breath, the tips of his fangs catching on your lower lip as he straightened his shoulders. “I - shit.” You frowned, unsure of why he’d stopped - until you heard another voice. 

 “Going somewhere, Russo?” This fucking bitch.

 Billy’s entire demeanor changed as you turned to face the street, fighting to keep your expression even as your eyes landed on the petite woman standing on the sidewalk in front of you. “What do you want, Dinah?” The way he said her name, nearly spitting the word from his lips did nothing to stop you from thinking of how it had sounded months before, them talking over drinks, in her bed, in her office… Stop. “We’re a little busy here.” The woman laughed, stepping closer to you and you watched as she put her hands on her hips, leaning forward. 

 “Yeah, I can see that. Guess even now you can’t help yourself when it comes to women and blood.” You felt Billy freeze next to you, his arm still around your waist, and you were suddenly reminded that you were in fact messy with fake blood, as was Billy’s face. “Maybe if you’re lucky, he’ll help you clean it off later,” she sneered at you, shaking her head. “He’s good at that.” She’s trying to rile you up. But you’d seen the video, Billy in the  interrogation room, talking about how he’d bathed the blood from her body, how he’d been in her bed, the words falling from his lips with no emotion behind them, no life in his eyes. “I just wanted to congratulate the two of you.” Madani shook her head, licking her lips. “I never manage to catch both of you at the same time, and I didn’t want to waste the sentiment.” Her eyes moved up Billy’s frame and you caught the slight intake of breath as she finally laid eyes on his face, the worst of the scarring hidden by his beard - looking almost exactly as it had when she’d met him. “What a catch, hmm? A mass murderer? Someone with no remorse?” Her eyes moved to you, and though she was nearly ten feet away, you caught a glimmer of frustration behind the anger in them before she spoke again. “ You believe he’s changed? You accepted the bullshit story -”

 “We’re done here.” Billy straightened and you tore your eyes away from Madani, looking up at him. “You need to leave. I don’t care who you are, this is where I live, and you’re not welcome here, Madani.” The other woman laughed turning to the side and gesturing toward the sidewalk. 

 “I’m on the sidewalk, Billy.” She shrugged. “Just taking a walk.” No, you’re harassing him. Us. Before you could say anything else, your phone pinged and a gray SUV pulled up in the empty space behind Madani. Thank God. You pulled away from Billy, walking to grab your hat and your phone before you made your way down the steps. Billy followed closely, one hand on your lower back, fingers barely applying pressure, but as you reached the bottom of the steps, Madani’s hand shot out, grabbing your elbow. “You’re going to regret this. Regret him.” 

 Tearing your arm from her grip, you took a step closer, eyes narrowing. “No, I won’t. I’m not you.” Without another word, you turned away, reaching for the handle on the SUV’s back door, sliding into it, Billy close behind. Though you didn’t turn around as the car pulled away from the curb, you knew what you would have seen if you did - Madani, with a smug look on her face still standing on your sidewalk. The driver eased into traffic and you finally took a deep breath, closing your eyes. She just wanted to ruin your night, she had to know about the party somehow. 

 “I’m sorry about her.” Billy’s mouth was close to your ear, his voice low. “We can move, I got the money, we can -”

 “No. She’s not going to chase us from our house, Billy.” You sighed, leaning into his chest. “We’ll move when we’re ready, she’s just trying to piss me off and get you to react.” He kissed the top of your head. “I hate her, Billy, but I feel sorry for her, too.” He asked you why, and you shrugged your shoulders. “Not because of you, but because it’s been over a year and she’s… she’s still stuck, Billy. It’s like what the court decided wasn’t good enough for her, even though it was enough for everyone else.” He coughed, leaning down to speak into your ear. 

 “I shot her, you know. One day we were sleepin’ together and the next… she found out about me, an’ then I…” He swallowed, burying his face in your hair and inhaling deeply. “She’s never gonna leave me alone, not til she gets what she wants.” But what does she want? “She’s not gonna get it, though… because I have nothin’ for her.” Deciding to let things go for the night, you blinked, turning your gaze toward the window and watching as the lights passed in a blur. Billy didn’t speak again until the driver had stopped in front of the low brick building that housed Anvil’s headquarters, letting you out onto the sidewalk. “Don’t you dare bend over,” he said as he walked behind you, one hand stuffed into his pocket. “I mean it, if I even catch a glimpse of someone else starin’ at your ass…” You laughed, reaching for the door handle. 

 “Don’t worry, Billy. I’ll make sure if I do bend over, it’s in front of you.” He scoffed, but before he could reply, you were inside the lobby, the music that you’d been unable to hear through the soundproof exterior walls and doors filling your ears. Reaching back for Billy’s hand, you led him to the main training room, which had been off limits for the previous two days as Karen, Marci and Curtis’ girlfriend decorated. Damn, this looks incredible. The whole space had been transformed, and even Billy let out a low whistle as his eyes moved over the crowd; people in various costumes spread out through the open space. 

 You saw Foggy and Marci - the woman dressed like a cat and Foggy wearing a lab coat and stethoscope, but before you could move toward them, you heard Karen’s voice calling your name. “You look amazing!” Turning to face her, you grinned as you saw her costume - a tight black dress that showed off her long legs, the only adornments a big silver buckle on her waist and another on her pointed hat, which sat askew on top of her head, golden curls cascading down her back. She had a broom in one hand, holding it off to the side as she hugged you, her eyes widening as she took in the side of your body that Billy had had his mouth on. “A...bloody pirate?” You grinned and shook your head, pointing at Billy. “He’s just wearing a…” But he reached his hand out and Karen put her free one into it, watching as Billy brought it up to his lips. 

 You saw the slight movement in his jaw as he bit down on one side and heard Karen’s surprised gasp as she pulled her hand away, a glistening red spot where Billy’s mouth had been. “Not just a suit, Miss Page.” Karen laughed and Billy grinned, showing off his fangs as he pulled you to his side. Karen pointed out the food stations and the photo booth, and just as you were about to drag Billy away, he cleared his throat. “Where’s, ah… where’s Frank?” Karen’s smile never faltered as she gestured toward the bar, and before you could stop her, she’d stepped forward, linking her arm with Billy’s. 

 “We’ll go see him.” Billy hesitated - you all felt it - but still walked forward and toward it. Curtis was standing in front of it dressed as Captain America with his girlfriend, Delia, who’d chosen to dress as an angel. Fitting. But Frank’s costume actually made you laugh, the sound erupting from your mouth before you could contain it. Billy’s going to kill me. 

 Hearing you, Frank turned, beer in hand and his eyes moved over you and then Karen before finally settling on Billy. “Hi, Bill.” Frank swallowed, raising his beer to his lips, and before the tension got too thick, the man cleared his throat. “Want a beer?” Billy nodded next to you and you felt him relax. 

 “If I’da known that I could get away with wearin’ a military uniform…” The five of you laughed, Frank handing Billy a beer bottle, which he raised and took a long drink from immediately. “Nah, I’m kiddin’, I don’t think I’ll be wearin’ a uniform again any time soon, but it suits you, Frankie.” The nickname slipped from his mouth before Billy could stop it, and though you heard his breath catch, Frank just grinned and reached over, arm going around Karen’s shoulders. “It does, doesn’t it, Bill.” The six of you made small talk until your stomach growled and Billy excused the two of you to get food, his hand never leaving your body. 

 “Thank you,” he said as you loaded up your plates with finger foods. For? “For makin’ me come here.” Billy swallowed, one hand moving to the back of his head. “I needed it.” We both did. You ate silently for a few minutes and then Billy cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow. “When you’re done, we should go upstairs.” He paused, running his tongue over his teeth, eyes darkening. “Got somethin’ to show you in my office.” 

 Setting your plate down, you nodded, heart beating quickly. “I’m done now, Billy.”

---

[roswellwrites]

I was only going to be like an hour late posting this for Halloween but tumblr has been nothing but uncooperative with me and this is my last attempt to get this to actually show up in the tags so........fingers crossed, I guess? Anyway this is pretty filthy. 

Pairing: Michael Myers/Reader (reader is never referred to as he or she so it’s up for interpretation. I do kiiiiiind of refer to them as having a vagina though, so heads up)

Tags/Warnings: Slasher x Reader, Michael Myers x Reader, Michael Myers, Face........F*cking......tbh (god that sounds so vulgar i’m sorry yall), Rough Sex

Word Count: 2907

Author’s Note: I personally pictured Rob Zombie’s version of Michael when i was writing this just because thats who i was indescribably thirsty for at the time. Like I’m personally not a fan of the RZ Halloween movies (with the exception of Tyler Mane as Michael because jesus christ) and I’m sure there are a lot of yall that feel the same way so feel free to picture OG Michael, I wont be offended!

You were hyper aware of eyes on you the entire night, the eeriness of Michael’s white mask as he hovered just at the edge of your peripheral, so stiff and unmoving you had mistaken him as a feature of the treeline more than once. He had watched for hours as you gave out sweets to trick-or-treaters, unwavering, his intense gaze following you as you rose finally from your seat on the top step, entering your home and flicking the porch light off to indicate that you were no longer giving out candy.

You had taken your time putting on your costume, catching the pale visage of his mask reflected in your mirror more than once through the window over your shoulder. You righted the fabric of your ensemble, giving yourself a last once-over in the mirror before slipping your shoes onto your feet and heading for the door.

The party you were attending was some twenty minutes away at the edge of town, and as you stepped off your front porch and into the chill of the October night air, you noticed suspiciously that Michael was nowhere in sight. You hummed, unbothered as you got into your car and buckled your seatbelt, sliding the key into the ignition with a click. The car roared to life around you and for a moment you sat there, fingers drumming idly on the steering wheel as you allowed the vehicle to warm up for the drive. You fiddled with the dial on your radio, selecting your usual station and then turning in your seat, checking behind the vehicle for any stray trick-or-treaters before backing out of your driveway and onto the street.

Your eyes flickered to the rear view mirror then to see that a car had pulled away from the curb, following you closely now as you made your way down the street. You found yourself grinning, pleased at the development.

The party was a blur around you, loud and busy with the laughter of people having a good time, their bodies dancing and swaying in time with the music. You had been approached a few times since arriving, the compliments and lingering stares not entirely unwelcome as you leaned back against a wall, solo cup full of alcohol in hand.

The old Myers house was a ten minute walk from the location of the party, something you had taken into account when agreeing to attend, and you found yourself now in the brisk fall air as you made your way down the darkened street, the noisy clicking of your shoes on the sidewalk loud enough to have you bending and pulling them from your feet, opting to continue the trek barefoot rather than listen to the sound.

The porch steps creaked under your weight as you climbed them, the front door opening with some resistance as you pressed your palm to the old wood and shoved against it. You moved slowly up the stairs, cautious of the old wood as it groaned beneath you, your hand finding the splintered banister and squeezing it gently as you made your way upwards.

There was the shifting of floorboards behind you and you allowed your lips to curl into a smile, body thrumming now with excitement.

You screamed when he grabbed you, the shock of his hands suddenly on you overpowering the logical part of your brain that knew he had been behind you the entire time. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, the muscle itself hammering behind your rib cage as if it intended to break through the bone and escape through your chest wall.

His hands were strong on your upper arms as he pinned them to your sides, the dark flashing of his eyes just visible behind his mask as he shoved you easily to your knees.

You could feel his heavy gaze on the back of your neck, tangible almost, barely resisting the urge to glance over your shoulder at the massive man as he loomed over you.

He remained there for a time, seconds ticking by like minutes and minutes ticking by like hours before he finally moved, circling around to your front. Michael reached for you, rough fingers finding the side of your face tracing the smooth skin he found there, making their way first to your jawline and then higher, his thumb brushing your lower lip softly.

There was the tang of something on your tongue as he pressed his thumb into your mouth, metallic and sharp, and you felt your stomach churn in protest. You wondered when he had even had the opportunity to get bloody, who the unlucky victim had been, what they had done to provoke his anger or if they had even done anything at all.

Michael’s thumb withdrew slightly, the pad of his finger pressing now to your bottom teeth, more gentle than you were accustomed to. You dropped your mouth open obediently, cheeks flushing as he took a lumbering step forward and tilted your face upwards to look up at him, your eyes finding the placidity of his white mask even in the gloom of the old house. The faded hardwood floor was unforgiving under your knees and you shifted minutely in discomfort, adjusting your position.

He lowered a single heavily scarred hand to rest on top of your head then, large fingers carding gently through the hair he found there in a rare display of tenderness. You permitted your eyes to droop shut under the action, your lips parting and allowing for a small sigh to escape as he began to scratch slow circles into your scalp with blunt fingernails.

You tensed when he clenched his fist suddenly, body going rigid under his ministrations as he took a handful of your hair in his hand and pulled hard enough to have tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You moved obligingly as he tugged you upwards, maneuvering you easily from your position sitting back on your calves so that your back was straight, posture the picture of attentiveness.

Michael pulled his thumb from your mouth slowly, the hot drag of the digit across your tongue enough to have you opening your mouth wider for him, submissive, body flushed now all the way to the tips of your ears.

His free hand came up to the zipper of his coveralls then, the sound of the interlocking teeth being undone just loud enough to be audible over the rush of blood in your own ears. The shirt he wore beneath his coveralls was black, stretched taut over his broad chest, and you longed to reach up, to trace the thin material with your fingers, to feel the hard plain of muscle under your palm. He worked the zipper down slowly, hand moving now beneath the rough material to encircle the base of his hardening member and pull it free of his coveralls.

You could feel your heart skip a beat at the size of him, same as it always did, your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip in anticipation as he began to stroke himself to full hardness. Your mouth was still open, wide and wet and welcoming, and Michael adjusted his grip on your hair, angling your head now to allow for the easy press of his cock between your lips.

The weight of his length was heavy on your tongue, satisfying and exactly what you needed. You allowed your eyes to slide closed, shoulders sagging as you exhaled softly through your nose, the slightly salty taste of him on your tongue enough to have you swallowing reflexively.

The first sharp thrust as he worked his way fully into your mouth was a surprise to say the least, catching you off guard as his cock slid nearly to the back of your throat. Your eyes flew wide, darting up questioningly to his masked face as he withdrew, leaving only the tip of his cock on your tongue before thrusting forward again,

Michael twisted his scarred hand in your hair sharply, coercing your head to the side and grinding forward into your mouth, forcing your nose nearly to the sparse, dark hair at the base of his erection.

The pace he set was quick, brutal, the blunt tip of his cock meeting the back of your throat with every forceful thrust. He manipulated you easily by the hand in your hair, angling your head upwards so your glassy eyes found his expressionless mask, the action opening your throat further to him as he used your mouth in the way he saw fit.

Your hands came to his muscular thighs, fingers scrabbling for purchase against the dark blue fabric as he fucked your mouth with deep, relentless strokes. You could feel the tears as they welled at the corners of your eyes now, the obscene trail of slick on your chin as your saliva mixed with his pre-cum and leaked from your mouth. You closed your eyes against the onslaught, dark eyelashes fanning across your flushed cheeks as you forced your throat to relax, shifting again on your knees as he gave your hair another sharp tug.

You groaned around his length, fuzzy from lack of oxygen, grounded only in the moment by the relentless snapping of Michael’s hips as he filled your mouth, gripping your hair so tightly you knew you would be feeling it for hours.

His hips jolted forward one last time, head lolling slightly to one side, the only warning you received before his hand tightened impossibly in your hair and he forced your lips to the base of his cock, holding you there as he came down your throat.

You choked, sputtering, hands twisting into the fabric of his coveralls as you tried to move away. You could feel more tears slipping down your cheeks as he observed you, dark eyes seeming to search your face for something before withdrawing from your mouth completely. You exhaled shakily through your nose, swallowing as his hand moved finally from your hair, trailing downwards until it found your chin, catching it easily between his fingers. His thumb found your bottom lip for the second time that night, dragging the rough digit across the flushed skin before sliding slightly lower, sweeping through the messy layer of saliva he found there.

You wondered what you looked like, wondered if your cheeks were as hot as they felt, if your lips were swollen from the rough treatment. You reached up self consciously, brushing aside his gentle fingers and wiping the drool from your chin with your sleeve as you allowed him to press you back against the floor with large hands at to your shoulders.

It was never just one round with Michael.

He lowered himself to his knees in front of you then, slotting with some difficulty between your spread thighs, and for a moment you were floored at the vulnerability the gesture exuded. Michael was huge even on his knees, a behemoth of a man, muscles wound tight like a predator ready to leap.

Your eyes trailed his body hungrily, darting from his broad shoulders to his chest and stomach, taking note of the way his shirt had begun to ride up, revealing a tantalizing sliver of pale, scarred skin. Your eyes found his length as it began to harden again, sitting heavily against his still-clothed thigh, flushed from base to tip and still damp from where it had been in your mouth.

One of Michael’s hands moved from your shoulder to your upper chest, spanning nearly the length of your entire clavicle as he pinned your body easily to the floor beneath him. He pressed down on your rib cage suddenly, harsh and with so much force that you gave an involuntary wheeze of distress, hand flying immediately to his wrist in hopes of relieving some of the pressure.

“Michael,” you gasped, squirming ineffectively under him as he continued to exert his near supernatural pressure, entirely unaffected by your pleading tone and twisting body beneath him.

When he released you suddenly, you arched from the floor, lungs sucking in a much needed breath.

Michael’s practiced hands made quick work of your shorts and underwear then, taking the time to unbutton and slide the fabric down your hips and thighs, and you found yourself grateful that he had opted to remove them calmly rather than simply tearing or shredding them. He moved one large finger to your entrance, dipping leisurely inside of you to the knuckle, and you could feel your legs shaking on either side of him as Michael began to investigate the slickness he found there. One finger became two, and two fingers became three, the delicious stretch of his large digits as they flexed inside of you nearly enough to have your eyes rolling skyward in pleasure.

But it wasn’t enough.

You dropped your head back as he withdrew his fingers, skull thudding softly against the old hardwood as he lined himself up, positioning himself at your leaking entrance. You breathed slowly through your nose, mentally preparing yourself for what was to come.

Your eyes flew wide as Michael entered you then, thrusting forward suddenly with a single, impatient snap of his hips. Your muscles clenched involuntarily at the intrusion, so sudden and unexpected and large that you found your hands reaching up, grasping desperately at the lapels of his coveralls. Your throat was sore from the rough treatment it had received earlier but you opened your mouth anyway, hoping to still him with your words.

“Fuck, Michael,” you rasped, your voice sounding absolutely wrecked even to your own ears. “Just…just hold on a second. Please.”

He was impassive as he stared down at you, expression impossible to read behind his mask. Michael gave a slow tilt of his head then, as if deciding something before he withdrew, pulling himself almost completely out of you before allowing his hips to snap forward again,

You grit your teeth, back arching wildly off the cold floor as your body tried and failed again to adjust to his size. “Michael,” you pleaded again, your tone edging now on a whine as he repeated the motion, filling you again with another sharp thrust.

Michael’s large hands were steel at your hips, thumbs pressing meanly into the flesh he found there, and you found yourself squirming beneath him in discomfort.

You had learned early on that Michael liked to leave marks, littering your skin on a regular basis with bruises and bites. He would never say so, of course, but more often than not, you’d catch him returning to the marks, lavishing them with attention with either his mouth or hands, reverent almost.

His pace was fast and bruising, reminiscent of the way he had fucked your mouth earlier as he chased his own release.

You were aware of his eyes as they flickered across your face from behind his mask, gaze sharp and assessing as they took in your flushed cheeks and gently parted lips, your bright eyes undoubtedly glazed in your pleasure.

Your hand slipped between your bodies to touch yourself in response, only to give a startled sound high in your throat as one giant hand caught your wrist and slammed your arm back against the floor by your head.

“Okay,” you said breathlessly, giving a sharp jerk of your head to indicate that you understood. “Okay.”

His hand remained there for a moment before he released you, as if coming to the conclusion that you weren’t going to try it again. Michael’s hand returned to your hip then, squeezing fiercely.

Your body was lax under his as he pounded into you, pliant as he worked you against him, using his powerful hands on your hips as leverage. The pain had faded out entirely by now, replaced by searing pleasure as he filled you again and again with his cock, the stretch of him nearly overwhelming as he penetrated you.

You could feel the exact moment his rhythm faltered, hips stuttering forward

“Come on,” you gasped, panting now from the force of his thrusts and he dragged you against him harshly. “Please, Michael, please.”

Michael twitched within you, lifting one hand quickly from your hip to cover your mouth, forcing you into silence as he continued to fuck you with powerful thrusts.

You whined in response, the sound muffled by his palm as you lifted your hips from the floor, giving him a better angle to work himself deeper into you.

Michael gave a few more erratic thrusts before tensing as he came, spilling himself inside of you, his grip on your hip so tight now you felt it might snap under the incredible pressure.

You made a small sound as he pulled out and moved away, taking a moment to simply lie there before straining your neck upwards to look at him, eyes lingering unabashed as he tucked himself back into his coveralls.

You could feel his cum leaking from your abused entrance as you rolled finally to your knees, slick sliding obscenely down your still-shaking thighs and dripping onto the floor beneath you. You gave a soft groan as you lifted yourself onto unsteady feet, bending slightly to retrieve your shorts before righting yourself again, your lower back giving a painful throb in protest at the action. You turned to him now, clothing clenched tightly in one hand.

“Let’s go home, Michael.”

[superthiccthighssavelives]

Halloween Drabble - A Night In

Anonymous asked:

Hello! Can you do one where Taron and his girlfriend stay in for Halloween, pass out candy & watch scary movies? And she gets scared and he tries to make her laugh and it’s just super cute and fluffy? Thank you! Love your blog!!💕💕

Alright, Halloween anon, I present to you, a night in. It’s not terribly long, and I’m awful at conversation and fluffiness, but I really tried for you! I really hope you like it and it’s everything you wanted <3

   ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////                                        ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Autumn was my absolute favorite time of year.

The gorgeous pops of red and gold covering the trees, leaves lining sidewalks and streets with beautiful debris.

The gray skies, bringing 'comfy cuddled on the couch watching movies wrapped in a fuzzy blanket' rainy days.

And of course, the best holiday, Halloween.

I love, love, love everything about it. The decorations, carving jack-o-lanterns and picking out costumes. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

I usually go out with my friends to a club, or a friend's party, but this year I decided to stay in with my boyfriend.

Taron and I were going to just going to throw on some scary movies and hand out candy to the neighborhood kids. We even put on costumes just to stay in the spirit. Halloween isn't Halloween if you don't dress up!

I decided on an old red riding hood costume I had stored away and Taron went for Robin Hood. Tights do him justice, I must say.

“Babe, what did you do with the candy I just bought?” My voice echoed through the house, traveling into the bedroom where Taron was still assembling his attire.

“In the first cupboard”

“Which first, left or right side?”

“Left, top shelf”

“What?”

Yelling through the house wasn't the best way to communicate, but I was on a mission to find the bag of Reece's I just bought, and I was tearing the kitchen apart.

“TARON!”

“LEFT! TOP SHELF!”

I rolled my eyes, he knows I can't reach up there, even with a step stool. I was much too short.

I started mumbling annoyances to myself while I grabbed the step stool and got on my very tippy-toes to see if I could reach the bag.

I stretched as far as I possibly could, my toes were pointed like a ballerina ready to pirouette, when I felt everything begin to shake. I was about to crash, hard, onto the tile below. Just as gravity was about to win, I was saved. Taron was there to catch me and prevent a nasty fall.

“What on Earth are you doing?”

“What do you think?” I couldn't help but let out a slight hint of snark.

“I would have gotten it love, why are you trying to hurt yourself?” He was laughing at me, knowing I would try to get them myself and fail miserably.

“There's going to be kids knocking soon, we have to get ready!”

“Always so impatient” Still chuckling while easily grabbing the elusive bag I was sure did not exist.

I dumped the bright orange squares into a makeshift candy bowl, using a plastic cauldron I had from years ago.

“Look at you, miss riding hood, Going to grandma's house?”

His accent always got me, especially when he laid it on thick.

I could listen to him read the phone book and still swoon.

“Yes, through the forest, grandmother is expecting me”

“Best be careful love, there's wolves out there. They'll eat you right up! “ And with a quick lunge, his mouth was at my neck pretending to bite, complete with exaggerated grunts and wolf howls.

“You're such a dork” I was laughing so hard I could barely get out the words.

One of my favorite things about him was his sense of humor, no matter how I was feeling, he always found a way to make me laugh. It instantly put me in a better mood, whether it be a stupid dad joke, a witty pun, or a silly accent, he was amazingly funny.

I was saved by the bell, quite literally, we had our first trick or treaters.

A darling mermaid, an adorable princess, and a tiny Capt America stood with outstretched hands, holding up their bags.

“Trick or Treat!”

I popped a few candies in each of their bags and they happily went on their way.

“Babe, you should have seen how cute they were!”

“Sorry love, was searching for something to watch, what do you think...Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street, or Saw?”

I shuddered, horror movies. Not that I didn't like them, but I was really, in the most basic terms, a scaredy cat. I loved everything that came along with Halloween, except being scared, which of course, is the basis of this holiday.

“You choose, they're all going to make me wretch with fear anyway”

Yet again, he laughed at me.

“Don't worry darling, I will use my trusty bow and arrow to defend you from those lurking monsters”

His pose was firm, head high in the air, chest pushed out, hands on his hips. I shook my head and couldn't find him anything less but adorable.

We settled on the couch listening to the beginning narrative of 1970s Texas, based on a true story passed on from person to person.

I've had nightmares about this kind of thing, remind me never to go there. I'd definitely be the first victim.

We had to pause the movie a few times to greet more pirates, witches, and vampires. Of course, the screen would always be frozen on Leatherface chainsawing someone's body part off.

The doorbell and knocks became less and less, and I settled in back on the couch.

Taron's arm wrapped tightly around me.

With each revving of the chainsaw and blood curdling scream, I clung onto him tighter and tighter.

I could feel his chest shaking, I know he was laughing at me again.

“Are you OK under there love?” My head was buried in his side, trying to shield my eyes from this creepiness.

“This is based on a true story! This could happen to us!”

“And are you planning to go through Texas on the way to grandmother's house?”

I swatted at him, barely connecting with his arm.

“I'm serious, there are crazy people everywhere!”

“Yes, of course, I am with one now” He couldn't help but laugh again, he was much too amused with me.

I glared at him, and stuck out my tongue. “You're sooo funny, I forgot to laugh”

“Better watch that tongue, the Big Bad wolf will bite it off!”

His voice reached a high pitch, repeating the story line “The better to eat you with my dear!”

His hands were frantic, tickling me everywhere he knew made me crazy.

“Taron stop!” “You're going to make me pee my pants!” I couldn't stop laughing like a maniac.

His mouth was back at my neck, nibbling and gently chomping.

“You're adorable.”

“Don't make fun of me” My arms crossed, mouth shifted into a pouty frown.

His warm hands rested on my face, giving me a slightly guilty look. “I'm sorry sweetheart, you are just too cute. Don't worry, you'll be safe in my arms” His lips made their way to mine, giving me the sweetest gentle kiss. “Come on then.”   He reached out his arms and I settled in against him again.

The noise of meat hooks swinging and crying stopped abruptly and changed into much more pleasant sounds.

Linus was ranting about the Great Pumpkin to Charlie Brown, while the rest of the gang was getting ready for tricks or treats.

“All better now then eh?”

“You didn't have to turn it off, I can handle it.”

Yet another laughed escaped from him. “Clearly”

To be honest, I am relieved he changed it, I knew I would have nightmares if I had to keep listening to any more of that.

His hands stroked my hair, and lips kissed the top of my head.

He popped a Reece's in his mouth and winked. “Next year, a haunted house then?”

[buckybabybaby]

Mr Hollywood (Chapter 5)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1865

Chapter summary: Bucky comes home! But only briefly... :(

Warnings: None I think!

Chapter 4

Mr Hollywood Masterlist

Masterlist

*****

Pouring rain on Halloween night means the bowl of sweets by your front door is almost full as you answer the bell for the final few trick-or-treaters. Normally, Bucky helps you decorate the porch and front garden on the Saturday closest to the thirty first, so doing it alone this year was a bit of a challenge, but you're happy with the end result. 

The witches cat, out for it's third year, sits well by the mini pumpkins and broom, and the motion activated sound effects along the lantern lit path create the perfect atmosphere, just the right side of creepy.

The children certainly seem to approve.

Switching off the fairy lights and putting the leftover treats out of sight and temptation, you curl up on the sofa, scrolling through the pictures you took earlier of your decorations, choosing the best to send to Bucky. By your calculations it should be around midday in Los Angeles, lunch time hopefully, however it's always difficult to judge when he'll have a bit of a break. His replies to your texts have been slow and sporadic, but you understand, and he always apologises for taking so long. Today is a different story though, as the message is marked as read seconds after you send it, and you watch the little bubbles on the bottom of the screen as he types back his response. It's only a short text, saying that he shouldn't really be on his phone right now, but 'Happy Halloween!', and its accompanied by a photo of his own seasonal decorations, a plump pumpkin carved to look like a haunted house. He was always better than you at that kind of thing, you think, as you compare your own efforts with his, marvelling over the intricacy of the design. The picture appears to be taken in his trailer, and you zoom in to the corners, pleased to see it's cosy, homely. You had worried about how he would cope, being thrown in to such a foreign situation, as from the little information Bucky had been able to share, it seemed as though the other actors were old hands at living on set. It looks like Bucky's learned a thing or two from them.

Your reply to his picture goes unread, and you don't expect it to be answered any time soon. It feels like you never have proper back and forth conversations any more, that phone call cancelling his trip home feels like an age ago, and you miss his voice. The first half of the Autumn term wasn't as tough as you thought it would be, Bucky's replacement Peter is as easy to work with, so you have no complaints on that front, its just not quite the same without him.

Later, as you climb into bed, you allow yourself to briefly think about the future. Now that Halloween is done with, Christmas feels just around the corner, and Bucky's return can't come quickly enough.

*****

Luckily, Autumn quickly rolls to an end, and before you can blink, the annual school disco is upon you. The children look forward to it, and while it is a wonderful way to end the school term, with the combination of sugary drinks and snacks from the tuck shop, the only time they're permitted, the excitement for Christmas, and the speakers blasting classic festive songs, keeping it all under control can be exhausting for the adults.

Taking a breather, you wander through the empty corridors until you can no longer hear the commotion from the assembly room. The cloakrooms between the classroom areas are always a little cooler as they aren't heated, and after the stuffy hall its a welcome break.

Discreetly checking your phone you sigh at the lack of texts. You try not to keep it on you when you're working, not wanting it to be a distraction, but you are waiting on a message from Bucky, not so patiently. You want to know when he's going to be back around here so you can see him, but that's difficult to plan for when he doesn't reply. Leaning against the wall, you scold yourself for being annoyed at how uncommunicative he is, its unfair to expect to be made a priority, and it's not as if you're going to be super busy over the winter break. Whenever he's free you'll make sure you are too.

A door shuts nearby and you pocket your phone, pretending to be interested in the staff board in front of you, showing every teacher, assistant, cleaner and cook on it, your picture sitting at the top of the second column. Footsteps approach as you zone out, staring down the photo of yourself, only half aware that they've stopped beside you.

“Is that who took my place? Looks like one of those cartoon me-mes.”

Frowning, it takes your brain a few moments to work out what is happening.

“A what? Me-”

Turning to face the person who interrupted your bubble of quiet, you gasp, sure you're dreaming.

Bucky stands in front of you, and before he has a chance to say hi properly you're throwing yourself into his arms, only just holding in your squeal of joy as he wraps his arms around you. He smells just as he always did, that combination of three colognes you used to tease him about even though it is an amazing scent on him, and the memories it evokes has you snivelling against his chest.

He soothes you, rocking you with him as you wipe your eyes with your sleeve. “Sorry. I'm just tired I think.”

Nodding understandably against your hair, he hold you tight in his arms until your calmer.

Suddenly remembering his earlier words, you giggle as you pull away. “Me-mes? Really Bucky, you're still such a disaster.”

“And a very merry Christmas to you too.”

Smiling so wide your face hurts, you take him in. He's wearing a yellow visitor badge as opposed to your blue staff lanyard, and it makes him look so out of place even with the familiar surroundings. You note that despite spending nearly half a year in California, he's only slightly more tanned than when he left, but his hair looks different, glossier if possible, and softer. His casual style hasn't changed though, and you're happy to see that faithful puffer jacket he bought a couple of winters ago is still around. You can imagine he's grateful for it, coming back to the shock of single figure temperatures. All in all, he looks so much better than you remembered.

“And anyway,” You say, gesturing to Peter's picture that Bucky commented on, “He's actually really nice. So you should be too.”

“If you say so.”

Snorting, you check your watch. “If you have time, you could meet him?”

“I'd love to, but I've got to get to Dayton's. I didn't say I was coming here first, he'll worry I got stuck in the airport.”

“What do you mean? Haven't you been to his yet?”

“I wanted to see you first.”

“It's not really on the way is it?”

“No, but, worth it.”

Your tummy flips, flattered by his honesty. At a loss of what to say in response, you stare at the notice board behind his head, wondering if he's always had this effect on you and you've just forgotten over the months he's been gone, or if this is a new feeling. Even after an absence of six months he still has such a hold over you.

“What about tomorrow?” You ask after a short silence. “You remember the Christmas lunch? I'm sure we could squeeze you in if you wanted.”

You cross your fingers behind your back, desperate to have him here a little longer.

“Only if they have those potatoes I like.”

Thinking about how you'll make them for him yourself if you have to, you laugh at his condition for attendance, before escorting him back to the entrance foyer and his waiting taxi.

*****

“Are they not feeding you over there?” You chuckle, watching fondly as Bucky scoffs down a very full plate of dinner. Students and teachers a like have been absolutely delighted to see him again, and he's been given pride of place at the main table, with you squashed in beside him at his insistence. Peggy sits opposite, giving you a significant look every time your eyes meet.  She's not pleased that you aren't paying attention to her.

“Well, yeah, but only the really healthy stuff.” He takes a last forkful, scraping at the plate forlornly, before eyeing the food you are yet to eat. Sighing good naturedly, you push it towards him. “Go ahead.”

Thanking you with a grin, he tucks in, quiet until you question him on how long he'll be back.

“Only a couple of days.” He cringes at your confused expression.

“But I thought-”

“I know, I know. But as we've had so many delays because of the weather, everything is so behind, we're basically filming all hours of the day. Most people on set have never seen anything like it, and it's only going to get even more intense. They want to hit the summer season so we're doing all nighters to get it finished.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“And then press and promo, I don't know when I'll get to come home next.”

You don't know what to say. Bucky only arrived yesterday, and now that it looks like he'll be gone by the end of the week you're lost, disappointed and angry at someone or someone's you haven't met.

“Are you at least getting enough sleep?”

He shrugs. “Does anyone in this industry?”

Peter interrupts your conversation before you can continue your interrogation, flopping down between you and Bucky to introduce himself, seemingly in awe of everything about him and his life after Wild Fields Primary School. He knows what you've told him, so not much really, and whilst he tries to dig for more answers from Bucky you force yourself to smile and enjoy the little time you have with him.

*****

The end of lunch comes too soon and whilst you would love to stay with Bucky, teaching duties call. He's driven himself here so you walk with him back to the door out to the car park, refraining yourself from giving him a hug as it feels inappropriate in front of so many people, but he has no such qualms, and ignoring everyone around, you treasure being so close to him, conscious that it may be a long while until you see him again.

Stepping back eventually, you peer through the drizzle at the car Bucky's hired for the day, only half surprised to clock the luxury badge on the front. Not exactly the little run around he used to own.

“That looks very fancy, really going up in the world aren't you?”

“I'm still me.” He says, smiling bashfully as he presses a kiss to your forehead, before slipping out of the door.

“Just don't you forget about me Bucky Barnes.”

“Never, doll.”

You wave him off, not knowing then that Hollywood has a way of changing people, and that sometimes they can't keep their promises.

*****

Chapter 6