#outdoor halloween party

[autobot2001]

Day 26.2 A Not so Relaxing Party

Fandom; transformers Characters: Crosshairs, Drift, Jamie (OC), Ironhide, Hound, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Lily (OC) Rating: T Description; A Halloween party is a time for rest, except for Drift's anxiety.

OC-tober; taking time to rest Flufftober; outdoor event, pumpkin

A few days passed since Jamie ran off and suffered hypothermia. Vivian decided to have a Halloween party, and happy planning a few days in advanced worked in her favor. "I know this normally wouldn't work, but—" Vivian explains to Optimus. "It's ok, Vivian. We were planning a Halloween party for this weekend. Now there are two parties as only some people want to come here. Not all soldiers are used to walking through the groundbridge. This will likely become only Jamie's friends coming here, but that would be wise now." Optimus returns to the base using the groundbridge. Hoping to get a list of who wants to go to the Yeagers property for a Halloween party.

Vivian walks into the kitchen, seeing Drift try to get Jamie to eat. "She was eating fine a few days ago," Cogman whispers. "I hate how her mental health is. Not being able to help her," Vivian sighs, "I don't think this party will do much for her, but I hope this helps her a little." "I hate how I've watched humans treat mental health. Perhaps it was foolish to think Jamie is from a different dimension so things would be better." "And they've been here for a month. I hate how Crosshairs is right. At this point, mental damage is beyond repair."

For many Autobots, the Halloween party is a time to rest. Most want to see Jamie but worry about her from what they've been told about the past month. They all know they're now repeating the same conversation that ends in not knowing how to help Jamie, but this has become helpful venting. "…so I think we should keep this limited to Lightning and the terror twins," Hound concludes. The others agree but add that Ratchet and Rung should go, not just for the party. "No, we'll go there after the party," Rung insists, "but you all know there's not much I can do? Not even for Crosshairs and Drift." Rung can't hide how disappointed he is. Sunstreaker believes it'll be fine if Lily is part of the group.

Drift sits in his meditation room, looking through photos from ten years ago. Even while everyone was in hiding, Jamie was happier than she is now. I can't believe it. Drift sighs. I wouldn't want her this unhappy while we were in hiding, but she shouldn't be getting more depressed as the years ago by. Drift feels arms wrap around his waist. Crosshairs says nothing as he rests his head on Drift's shoulder, seeing what Drift is looking at. I can't believe it. Crosshairs thinks, seeing a couple of the pictures. Drift puts his phone away, and the two sit quietly. Tired of the same conversation with nothing else to add. Not knowing what to do to help Jamie. They sit in the quiet room for twenty minutes before deciding they had enough of the silence.

The rest of the day is the same as always. Which is both good and bad to Jamie's friends. Crosshairs and Drift are happy that Jamie goes to sleep without an issue. Crosshairs worries about Drift's nightmares that have yet to stop and if Jamie will end up having repeat nightmares more often.

Even with the small group, Vivian sticks to her plans and has the party set up. The only difference is the amount of food on the buffet table. She laughs, hearing Sunstreaker already telling Sideswipe to stay away from the candy. They didn't think Ironhide and Hound would be walking through the groundbridge. "Uh, yeah. I know I'm the one who said limit who's here, but —" Ironhide begins. "We know," Sunstreaker says, "we all worry about her, and we've been hearing about how bad she's been doing. I think we reached our limit for hearing how Jamie is doing and need to see her." "We're still taking time off from our duties at the base," Hound argues, "I'm going to enjoy the hot tub for a while." He goes into the house. The terror twins and Lily follow, but to find Jamie and her guardians. Ironhide stays behind to talk to Vivian.

The three find their friends in the kitchen. Which means they've seen Hound. The friends decide to go outside and carve the pumpkins they got.

They find Ironhide sitting on a chair on the patio. "Good, you can make sure he doesn't eat all the candy," Sunstreaker says, pointing to Sideswipe. The others laugh. They head out into the yard.

The four mechs take out their pumpkins from the pumpkin patch. Drift and Sunstreaker take out their charge's pumpkins. Sunstreaker also takes out tools for carving. Cogman brings over a large bowl. "I'm not letting pumpkin crap all over the yard," he argues and walks away. "But it's actually good food for birds and squirrels," Drift whispers, "put the guts in the bowl, and we'll spread it out later." Jamie doesn't even bother trying to get one of the knives on the ground. Knowing how much she terrified her guardians the past month. Drift doesn't worry about Jamie using knives to eat, but the knives Sunstreaker took out to carve the pumpkins worry him. He hates how he doesn't think she'll be safe while with friends.

Ten minutes pass before a femme approaches the group. "Hey," she says, "sorry, the three little ones wanted me to play games with them." "And here I thought you had a boyfriend you didn't want to tell me about, Lightning," Crosshairs jokes. The others laugh, "Come on, Drift, let's get drinks." Drift goes with Crosshairs. The others know he doesn't mean alcohol.

Crosshairs skips asking what's troubling Drift and gets right to trying to get Drift to relax. Neither know Ironhide is watching. Ironhide hates how terrified Drift is, and he knows Crosshairs is the same but hides it. Optimus is not going to like hearing this. Ironhide thinks. I hate seeing this. They shouldn't be terrified to lose Jamie off the battlefield. Even with her condition. I know that terrifies them, but they wouldn't be like this. All because of the knives they're using for pumpkin carving. Within a few minutes, Drift is calm. They get the drinks Crosshairs said they'd get, but both believe they won't be able to hide why they took so long. "So much for a relaxing day," Ironhide hears Hound. "This is bad regardless of the Autobot, but Drift's personality has completely changed again." "I think it's more like he goes through periods of being terrified, but with how Jamie's mental health has been and after what she did, this is a long period of being terrified." "How long before Crosshairs falls apart? So much for a relaxing day."

[estah]

The annual henford spooky day party 👻🧡

[2000ghosts]

october 31, 2007

[machetelanding]

[stahlzart]

🎃👻 Verwandeln Sie Ihren Garten in ein Halloween-Wunderland! 👻🎃

Geben Sie Ihrer Halloween-Party in diesem Jahr den perfekten Rahmen mit unseren Carports, Pergolen und Gartenhäusern! 🦇🕷️ Schaffen Sie eine schaurig-schöne Atmosphäre, die Ihre Gäste so schnell nicht vergessen werden. 🕸️💀

💡 Was macht Stahlzart Carports & Pergolen so besonders? ✨

🔧 Profi-Montage: Unsere erfahrenen Experten kümmern sich um den Aufbau. Sie brauchen sich um nichts zu kümmern!

📝 Bauantragsservice: Wir unterstützen Sie kostenlos bei Ihrem Bauantrag.

💪 Stabilität & Langlebigkeit: Unsere Produkte trotzen Wind und Wetter – perfekt für Ihre Outdoor-Deko.

✨ Individuelle Gestaltung: Finden Sie das Modell, das perfekt zu Ihrem Garten passt.

Lassen Sie sich von unseren Halloween-Deko-Ideen inspirieren! ➡️ [www.stahlzart.de] 👀

[iturmom]

i almost stepped on a mantis on my evening walk tonight. but it moved in time for me to notice that it was alive so i stopped and took a picture of it. it seemed shocked by the flash and it like scurried away and then turned its head around to stare at me. then it scurried again this time around me. and when it got to my leg it started scurrying toward me! and it walked up my leg! i think it wanted to get up in my face but i stood up the closer it got so it just stopped on my calf and stared at my face. so eventually i sat down and it became less interested in me and eventually jumped off of me and scurried away, toward the grass this time which eased my mind enough to walk away from it. but i got a picture of it on my spoopy middle biddle leggings!

[reviews-by-rachael]

Starlux Games: Where Adventure Meets Innovation

👋 Hey there, friends! Check out my new blog post about Starlux Games! They make fun outdoor kids games like a spin on Capture the Flag, Freeze tag and more. All are great for Halloween and parties. Click my link down below to learn more about them!

[adornifyyourhome]

Unique Halloween Stuff to Gift This Year

Finding the perfect Halloween stuff to gift someone can be a fun challenge. Whether it’s for a friend who loves spooky season or a family member who enjoys decorating, there’s a wide range of gifts available that are both festive and thoughtful.

One of the best types of Halloween gifts you can give is something for their home. Halloween homeware makes for an excellent present, especially for those who love entertaining or hosting during the spooky season. You can find everything from skull-themed table settings to jack-o’-lantern-shaped mugs that add a touch of Halloween fun to any kitchen. Halloween wine glasses, themed platters, or festive serving bowls are also great ideas for the person who loves to entertain.

For those who enjoy a bit of humour, consider giving them quirky or personalised Halloween gifts like funny skeleton figurines, spooky socks, or even novelty Halloween candles. These items are sure to bring a smile to anyone’s face while still celebrating the Halloween spirit.

If you’re looking for something a bit more unique, think about getting them some Halloween homeware that they wouldn’t typically buy for themselves. Gothic-style cutlery or candle holders, elegant Halloween-themed throws, or even a spooky door mat can make for an exciting and stylish gift. These items are practical yet full of Halloween flair, making them the perfect balance between useful and fun.

Another fun idea is to create a Halloween-themed gift basket. Fill it with small Halloween gifts like candles, mugs, and sweets. You could also include DIY cookie kits or spooky hot chocolate mixes to give the recipient something they can enjoy throughout the season. Pair the basket with a spooky card, and you’ve got the perfect Halloween surprise.

No matter who you’re buying for, giving Halloween stuff as gifts is a great way to embrace the festive spirit and share it with others. Whether you opt for fun and playful or eerie and elegant, Halloween-themed gifts are always a hit.

[noisycowboyglitter]

"Make Your Own Creepy Ice Cream Popsicle Monsters: Easy Recipes and Tips"

A Creepy Ice Cream Popsicle Monster costume is a delightfully disturbing twist on a beloved summer treat. This unique ensemble combines the innocent charm of a frozen dessert with nightmarish elements, creating a memorable and unsettling Halloween look.

Buy now:19.95$

The costume typically features a large, popsicle-shaped body suit, complete with an oversized stick protruding from the bottom. The "ice cream" portion is where the creepy factor comes into play. Instead of a smooth, appetizing surface, the popsicle face is distorted and monstrous. Imagine melting, drippy textures with vibrant, unnatural colors that ooze down the costume's front.

The face of this frozen fiend might include bulging, mismatched eyes, a twisted grin full of sharp teeth, and perhaps a lolling tongue. These features could be designed to look as if they're melting or morphing, adding to the unsettling effect.

Buy now

To enhance the creepy factor, the costume might incorporate additional monstrous elements such as tentacles or extra limbs emerging from the sides or back of the popsicle. These could be crafted to look like they're made of the same melting ice cream material.

Sound effects, such as eerie slurping or dripping noises, could be added for an extra spine-chilling touch. The costume might also feature LED lights to create a ghostly glow, especially effective in dimly lit Halloween settings.

Buy now

This Creepy Ice Cream Popsicle Monster costume is perfect for those who love to combine the sweet with the sinister, offering a unique take on Halloween horror that's sure to turn heads and spark conversations at any costume party or event.

Halloween, celebrated on October 31st, is a beloved annual tradition that blends spooky thrills with festive fun. This holiday has ancient Celtic roots but has evolved into a widely celebrated event in many countries.

Key Halloween activities include:

Trick-or-treating, where costumed children collect candy from neighbors

Costume parties for all ages

Decorating homes with jack-o'-lanterns, skeletons, and cobwebs

Visiting haunted houses or watching horror movies

Telling ghost stories and urban legends

Buy now

The holiday is characterized by its iconic symbols: witches, black cats, ghosts, and pumpkins. It's a time when people embrace the supernatural and the macabre in a playful manner.

October 31st marks the culmination of autumn festivities, with many considering it the unofficial start of the holiday season. Halloween's popularity continues to grow, with adults increasingly participating in costume events and themed celebrations.

[naildesigns24]

Diy The Nightmare Before Christmas Decor Ideas

Nightmare Before Christmas Decorations DIY guide is here! Discover creative and easy DIY Nightmare Before Christmas decorations for both Halloween and Christmas. From DIY Jack Skellington decorations to outdoor Nightmare Before Christmas yard decorations, find the best ideas to transform your home. Explore fun DIY Nightmare Before Christmas party decorations and props. Check now to start crafting…

[haylanmakesstuff]

Hall-O-Ween sign

There was a big bachelorette party I threw a few years ago, all Halloween themed, for my best friend. I made so many different crafts for it, it’s about time I started showing a few of them! 

First, this was an imitation park sign I made with the event name on it, ‘Hall-O-Ween’, (as the bride’s maiden name was Hall). 

This was made out of a piece of wood, drawn on, and dremmeled to an inch of its life. 

xx

Then it was painted to match the typical brown and yellow of Texas Parks and Wildlife, USFS and some NPS sites. The bride loves Halloween and Parks both, so this was given to her after the event, of course. 

[dunsterhouseblogs]

Have fun all year round in your garden!

[lovebugism]

saw you were looking for shy!reader requests and now I'm having visions of nighttime colorful twinkly lights, snow swirling in the frigid air, frost-bitten noses and tentative glances...

what about reader getting roped into holiday caroling with the gang, including her crush, Eddie? Or some other festive outdoor activity, preferably one which allows them to subtly get closer to each other without giving away their feelings 🤭 I'm feeling those 'will we won't we' vibes tonight hehe

wow. here's me casually writing a wee drabble for someone who's written some of my favorite works on this app lol. hope you like it angel :D !! — eddie keeps shy!you company during a holiday party at the wheeler house (friends to lovers, fluff | 0.9k)

The weirdo has a soft spot for the princess.

The Princess, he calls you, ‘cause Mike once convinced you to sub in on a D&D campaign some months ago now. You were a rebellious fairy from a clan of royal fae sent to guide the rag-tag troop through an enchanted, labyrinthine forest. 

You had dressed the part, too, despite having zero knowledge of the game itself. You waltzed into the Hellfire room in a flouncy pink dress, iridescent fairy wings from last halloween, and a crown of artificial flowers.

Eddie remembers you that way, still. A sweet and timid thing, with a big heart and a pretty laugh. Even now, as you sit all alone in the Wheeler’s backyard, away from all the chaos and the twinkling lights, bathed beneath a glowing pink sky and sparkling snow — you’re still such an ethereal thing. A heavenly being, flung from space.

He weaves through the quaint party and over to you, carrying a steaming cup of cocoa in one hand and his bleeding heart in the other. 

“How’s it going over here?” Eddie asks over the soft holiday music playing closer to the crowd.

You blink up at him with wide, glassy eyes, as though he’s just jolted you out of some sort of daze. “Oh. Yeah. Fine,” you stammer finally, smile wavering when Eddie’s lopsided grin makes you forget how to breathe. 

You tug the blanket tighter around your shoulders with cold and clammy hands. Hiding feels instinctual to you now.

“Freezing to death?” the boy quips and fights to keep his own teeth from chattering.

The sight of him before you, with snowflakes clinging to his curls and his pale skin softly flushed with wintertime, makes you smile more sincerely than you mean to.

“Something like that,” you nod.

Eddie extends a ringed hand towards you then, offering the paper cup of hot chocolate keeping his aching fingers warm. “Want some?”

“Oh, no— It’s okay,” you decline with a polite shake of your head while your chest blazes with misplaced embarrassment. “I— I can get my own.”

“Well, between us, I didn’t really want it in the first place,” Eddie confesses lowly, taking another step closer until you can smell the deep musk of his cologne. You tilt your chin to follow his gaze. “Little Holly offered me a cup, and I didn’t know how to say no.”

The thought of Eddie Munson, in all his daunting black and silver, having a sweet spot for the youngest Wheeler (whom he exclusively refers to as Little Holly) makes your chest go all warm. 

Holly has her own innocent affections for him, too — you know for a fact she’s got an obsession with his bat tattoo that’s driving Ted insane.

You duck your head in a feeble attempt to hide your smile. Eddie sees it anyway, though, and smiles at your smiling, perhaps wider than he realizes. 

You take the cocoa from him with gentle, trembling hands. His heart skips a beat when your fingers brush over the back of his own. Yours stops entirely when he sits down on the bench beside you — not unwelcome, of course, but more wanted next to you than you’d ever be willing to admit out loud.

Eddie hisses through his teeth and tenses beside you through a shiver. You watch him stick his pale hands in the pocket of his thin leather jacket, which he wears in spite of the inclement weather.

“Are you sure you don’t want another jacket?” you wonder sheepishly, peering at the boy through the corner of your eye.

“I’m good, princess,” he insists with a shake of his head, just before his glowing nose sniffles. “I’m a rockstar, remember? Rockstars don’t get cold.”

“Really?” you hum, quiet and sarcastic.

“Yeah. Freezing to death is, like, the least metal thing ever. It’s like, you know, using an umbrella when it’s raining— It just makes you ten times less cool.”

You shift on the creaking bench and smile at your cup of cocoa. “Well, me and the ladybug umbrella I’ve had since I was nine respectfully disagree,” you joke in shy murmurs, still so meek in humor.

Eddie laughs. You feel him trembling with it beside you from where his shoulder’s pressed against yours. You see his teeth chattering just before he lifts his hands over his mouth, breathing hard into his palms in a desperate attempt to warm them.

Your hands ache with the sudden urge to cover him up. They tremble with uncertainty when you drag the borrowed blanket from your left shoulder to drape the excess along his back. Eddie peers at you with a chocolate button-eyed look as you shift closer into him, made warm and alive by your proximity alone. He’s grateful for the act of kindness, still.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, gaze averted and cheeks pink. You’d almost think he was shy.

“Don’t mention it,” you murmur back and mean it.

“You know…” the boy lilts, nicotine-spearmint breath fanning warm across your cheek. You can hear the smile in his voice without ever even looking at him. “If you just wanted to be close to me, you coulda just said.”

You flash him a stern look from beneath your lashes, which still manages to look just as soft as the rest of you. You try not to think about how close he is to you now — close enough to make out every distinct shape of the snowflakes sticking to his wild hair.

“Don’t make it weird,” you plea through a deadpan.

“That’s a lot to ask of the local weirdo,” Eddie scoffs. “I mean, it’s kinda in the name, princess.”

“Sorry for not wanting you to freeze to death.”

Eddie meets your narrowed eyes with a crooked, pink grin dripping with mischief. 

“I like you, too, princess,” he croons quietly.

Your chest pinches. You have to remind yourself to breathe. “I didn’t say that,” you shake your head and turn away, looking back to the crowd mingling beneath falling snow and fairy lights. You don’t know why Eddie would want to be here with you, instead of over there with them. 

Eddie doesn’t know how he could want a single other thing than to be here with you.

“Didn’t have to,” you hear him say as he pulls the blanket tighter over his shoulder and shuffles closer into you. For warmth, you tell yourself. For warmth and not a damn thing else.

[maiamore]

PASS THE SALT, MR MILLER

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader - No Outbreak Rating: 18+ | W/C: 4.5k

Summary: Joel finds out the hard way that leaving a pretty girl with blue-balls isn’t the smartest.

Or, Joel fucks you in his garage.

Tags: christmas-y vibes, fucking on Joel’s car, implied age gap,unprotected p in v, grumpy!joel, lots of yearning, squirting, sexual games, brat taming, outdoor sex, creampie

A/N: merry christmas folks! tbh this is just a game of how many fics can I write that has to do with (a) joel's truck or (b) joel yearning. side note, looped Disease - Lady Gaga track on repeat while writing this oops

MASTERLIST | MAIN STORY

Holidays have never really been something you celebrated. Fuck it, your own birthday even. It just wasn’t a priority you considered worth fussing over. Admittedly, your lack of enthusiasm for these events was probably why you ended up avoiding them. You would do the most for the people you loved but never for yourself.

Take Halloween for example. Your friends from Columbia were begging you for a slutty girls' night out, but you’d opted to stay home to help chaperone your younger brother Oscar’s party. Even so far as to set everything up, you’d made sure Oscar had a shot at being the coolest damn guy in his school. Fret not, jobless big sis is there to help ya. 

Of course, it hadn’t gone unrewarded, to put it loosely. All that really happened was some broody hot middle-aged dad jerking off in front of your face. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You found yourself staring at the pale green piece of paper your younger brother, Oscar,  handed you when he came home from school that evening. Eyeing the morbidly cliche design that screamed of some bored old receptionists' handiwork, you tilt it to get a better read.

Oak Ridge High School Annual Christmas Potluck.

Great. Another one. You were often the stand-in for his PTA Meetings in place of your ever so busy parents. While you had your fun with the free buffets and whatnot, you were getting tired of people asking how old you were when you “had” Oscar. 

*Calling all Parent Volunteers. Please Contact Joel Miller at +1 (512) 555 XXX for details. 

Now that got your attention.

Joel Miller. The man who, after that night, weaseled his way into your glorious collection of mental spank bank. Evident in the plethora of stolen nudie mags your mom stashed underneath her mattress—you’d gone as far to dog-ear pages of men who had the slightest resemblance to him. 

You couldn’t get him out of your mind. By him, his dick. All eight fuckin’ inches of pent-up old man dick. 

The desperation in the way he thumbed his slit, coaxing his milky cum into your waiting mouth in your bedroom flashed in your mind like post-traumatic-sex-disorder. You were robbed of a good fuck.

The beeps of your dial-pad echoed embarrassingly loud while you dialled the number on the flyer before fully seeing the idiocy in this move. The line connects after a few rings. 

“Miller. Who’s callin’?”

A shudder runs down your spine. His voice hit you like a freight train, low and gravelly, cutting through the faint clatter of what sounded like construction work on the other end.

Fuck. Fuck fuck. Hang up. Hang–

“Hi.” You blurt out, forcing a higher register in your voice in a desperate attempt to disguise yourself. “I’d like to register. For the Christmas…thing.” There was a pause, followed by the clunk of something heavy and the sound of boots against a hard floor. 

“Right. You’re the parent of…?” 

You clutched your phone tighter when Joel’s voice rang clearer than ever, throat dry as you scrambled to speak. “Oscar.”

He repeats your last name when you offer it, slow and deliberate, like he was trying to place it–a flicker of recognition almost.

“Alright then,” he finally says, the faintest edge of suspicion still lingering.

 “Guess I’ll see ya there.”

—

Impulsiveness was something that fucked Joel over most times. 

Messing around with someone he’d consider uncomfortably closer to his daughter's age than his own settled within him like poison. 

It’d been two whole months since the incident at halloween and he was still hung up over you. He was certain that a pretty girl like you had far better prospects than a washed up crotchety shit like him. 

You plagued his mind every time his fist wrapped around his cock. Every time he’d tried to fuck the stress of working long hours of grunt work at the site. Your soft and sweet expression offered him instantaneous, sticky reprieve. 

Guilt, or something he should’ve been feeling over using your face as masturbation material didn’t quite blare the alarms in his head through post-nut clarities. 

He knew he had fucked up the second he had you on your knees that night. 

You parked your sedan in front of a navy chevrolet in the driveway. Hopping out of the car as you looked up at the quaint home, clean white siding, neatly trimmed lawn. 

You figured by the bustling noise from the backyard that a volunteer offered up their home and all. Generous, you thought. And then you catch it. The worn down navy mailbox that sprawled the letters–

M I L L E R

The swirl that was now your mind dragged painful throbs in your head. To be in his own backyard felt stalker-ish even for you. 

With a weary exhale, you click open the boot of your car. Worrying had to come later, you had to formulate a game plan for the boxes of fairy lights you somehow had to haul into Joel’s backyard.

With a heaving effort, you propped up two boxes into your arms when the shuffle of footsteps catches your attention, coming from beside the opening garage. 

“Hey! Sorry, could use a little help...” You call out instinctively. 

Only managing to catch a glimpse of a hand bracing against the rickety garage door to shove it all the way up with a loud metallic clang. 

The sound startles you, but not as much as the sight when one of the boxes lifts from your hold, revealing your apparent savior.

The both of you pause, staring at each other in slight shock. Well–for him at least. You had ulterior motives that came delivered to you all wrapped up in worn-out denim.

Joel’s expression was less than welcoming, which in his defense—he wasn’t quite expecting to see his ghost in his own yard. 

“What are you doin’ here?”

The curtness of his voice throws you, but it’s too late to think of turning tail and driving off.

“I’m…one of the volunteers.”

“Sweetheart,” Joel begins, lifting the last box out of your arms like they weighed nothing. “You signin’ up under your mama’s name just to come sniffin’ round’ me? That it?”

“What? No. She couldn’t make it,” you shoot back, a little too quick, a little too defensive. Joel wasn’t buying it, his unimpressed stare making you shift on your feet.

“Uh-huh,” he mutters, already stepping over to your car. With a grunt, he hefted another box from your trunk, the effort drawing a low sound from his chest. 

The bitterness (and arousal) pools in your mouth at the noise he makes. 

Yes. You’d admit. You sniffed out Joel’s trail like some stray, chasing after the smallest crumb of him. It wasn’t irrational for you to think that you deserved some sort of closure. 

His voice cuts clean through your spiraling thoughts. “If you’re expectin’ somethin’, you best stop right there. I ain’t messin’ around.” You grimaced, fumbling for words. 

“I’m just here to help—” 

“S’enough outta you. Stay out of trouble.” He interrupts, not quite looking at you. 

Joel wills himself to flick his gaze anywhere but at you, one look at your face was enough to remind him of the fact, one look was probably enough to pop a damn boner. He sets the boxes down by the patio, knees cracking as he stretches back up with a grunt.

“Get someone to hang ‘em up. ‘Cause clearly,” he says, eyeing your sweater and skirt, “you ain’t dressed to actually help.”

He gives you a short, dismissive nod before turning away, leaving you standing there. Warmth pools your cheeks, feeling foolish to have gone this far for the attention of a man who made it clear that he didn’t seem to give a fuck whether you were here or not.

—

Joel spends the better half of the afternoon hovering around you. 

Approaching you normally was out of the question now that Sarah and the other kids began to flitter into his backyard to help with preparation. His daughter’s presence acted like a highly effective cock-block. Not that he had any business entertaining those kinds of thoughts in the first place.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Risky didn’t begin to describe it, so he kept his distance. That resolve went straight out the window when he spotted you, half-balanced on a ladder, hanging Christmas lights along the edge of his roof. With candy cane printed panties peeking out from under your skirt—god almighty, Joel nearly doubled over.

You could feel Joel's eyes on you while attempting to hang the lights over the siding. Purposefully going against what he said, purposefully giving everyone a goddamn show. 

"You ever learn how to listen?" 

“I can do it myself.” You shot back. Coyly soothing the back of your skirt. A proper fuck you to him at his insinuation that you’d been here just to man-trap him. Not that the notion did much. 

You felt the ladder steady with Joel’s hold. Effectively blocking everyone else from seeing what you were flaunting. 

"For the love of christ, darlin’, get down." 

“For the love of christ, I’m almost fuckin’ done.” You parroted his words back to him with an annoyed huff. It was hard not to let Joel infiltrate your mind but lack of his attention was eating you up–making you do crazy things, evidently.

With a satisfied huff at the placements, you brought your arms down.

Why did that…feel heavy?

A sharp crackle and metallic clatter fills the air before you fully completed your thought, the chains of lights comes tumbling down. You froze. Lowering your gaze to see the single goddamn twine snagged onto your sweater that you’d effectively yanked down with you. 

The bulbs burst into chaotic pops as they hit the ground, shards of glass scattering like tiny fireworks across the patio, drawing everyone’s attention.

Joel doesn’t hesitate, his hands found your waist as he lifted you off the ladder and set you firmly on the ground to safety with a grunt, his eyes snaps to the shards of glass glinting in the light and the fresh scratches marring his freshly varnished patio.

"You gotta be shittin' me..." He mutters, the irritation sharp in his drawl.  

“Mr Miller…”

Joel held up his palm as a sign to get you to be quiet so he could speak. Damn if you calling him Mr Miller now of all times didn’t make him want to haul your ass up to his bedroom.

Which he might add, seemed conveniently close.

He closes his eyes for a few seconds, pinching the bridge of his nose. "D’you think before you do anythin’ at all? Or do you just act on impulse?" He asks in a sharp and biting tone, looking directly at you as he spoke.

You cock your brow at his words. Surely he wasn’t seriously reacting this way to a couple of broken lights. To mention, your lights.

“What? Think about being a decent person to help?”

"A decent person would've listened the first time when I told you to leave it the hell alone," he snapped, stepping closer. "A decent person wouldn’t have shot me attitude n’ thrown a damn temper tantrum when I told you to get down."  

“What are you getting so bent out of shape for?”

“For starters, you wrecked my patio, darlin’.” He grumbles. Rubbing the back of his neck in the slightest amount of awareness that he’d overreacted, though he’d rather chew rocks than admit it. 

You don’t answer him. Humiliated as is. Your pouty-ness showed in the way you stomped over to get the broom that lay in the corner. He watches you regardless, arms folded taut.

“Goddamned train-wreck.” He mutters under his breath after a long pause, not even giving you the chance to let an apology leave your lips before he turns his heel to leave.

—

You didn’t take it well when people spoke to you like you were stupid. 

An Ivy League degree hung the walls of your room for fucks sake. Who the hell did Joel think he was? As if that wasn’t humiliating enough, you’d tucked your tail between your legs to sweep it all up without a word. The embers that lay dormant were further fanned as time passed. You were pissed.

Joel, on the other hand, begins to feel guilt at the way he’d reacted. Even in the corner of his eyes, he sees you helping set up with the rest of the parents. It wasn’t the behaviour of some reckless nympho he imagined you to be when you stepped foot into his yard. 

You didn’t have to stand there to stand under the sun in the unforgiving Texas heat, refilling lemonade for the parent’s committee. Or entertain Sarah and the rest of the kids. You’d turned his backyard into a damned Christmas Wonderland by the end of the night.

You were a good girl, he figures after a long while of brooding.

And he tries. He tries to approach you to apologize but you didn’t seem to be having it. Going out of your way to swerve at the slightest sight of him near you. Which he gets.

You were over it, really. Chalked it up to his personality being generally the way it was. But what really helped you get over your humiliation? Seeing Joel Miller fucking grovel. 

Which you were acutely aware of with the way he lingered around you, waiting for an opening that you deprived of him.

—

The skies grew to a dusky violet, the backyard gently lit up with the soft twinkle of the fairy lights you’d painstakingly hung up (and re-hung). Lull of familiar Christmas classics playing by the speakers. 

The warmth of the chatter and laughter surrounding the table tugged at your edges, coaxing a reluctant smile to your lips. You weren’t ready to admit it, but the festive mood was infectious.

You sat near the end of the committee’s table, the seat next to you conspicuously empty. The kids–Oscar, Sarah, and their friends were huddled at their own table. You briefly wondered if you should join them instead, given that the current hot topic at your table being mortgage rates.

The thud of a melamine crystal glass landing next to your plate broke your train of thought. You flick your gaze up, your expression hardening the moment you caught sight of Joel dragging the empty chair over next to you and lowering himself into it with a creak.

Without a word, he slides the glass closer to you, taking a sip from his own. His movements were deliberate, careful, like a man trying not to step on a landmine.

Joel wasn’t quite well-versed in apologies, as evident by Sarah’s constant reminders that one of these days he was going to piss a woman he actually fancied. His hand stretches over your lap, unfurling the napkin on the other side of you to drape it over your thighs. 

“Could you pass over the salt, sweetheart?” 

You tilt your head, arching a brow, not moving a muscle. Instead, you shot him a pointed look.

With a heavy sigh and a muttered curse under his breath, Joel stands up, his knees popping audibly as he leaned across the table to grab the salt himself. He slumps back into his chair, setting it down with a huff. How could a little thing like you hold so much anger?

“Done torturin’ me yet?” 

A scoff leaves your lips. 

“Who said I was?” 

“I’m tryin’ to apologise, sweetheart.” You shudder at the manner he whispers the words out. As though it was a secret reserved for just you and him. 

You rest your cheeks on your palms, shooting him an uninterested look. Joel’s eyes darts down to your plate that you were pushing to him. He doesn’t hesitate, reaching over and starts loading your plate up again with generous portions of the dishes spread across the table. The sight of him doing so, quiet and almost reverent, made your chest sing.

Oh this. This you could get used to.

For the next twenty minutes, you’d milked Joel’s newfound contrition for all it was worth. Needed a refill? Joel was already reaching for your glass. Running low on napkins? He was up and grabbing a fresh one before you even asked. You’d even braced yourself for him to snap when you made a fuss over your creaky chair, but to your delight, he stood up and swapped it out without so much as a grumble.

Unfortunately for you, your luck does runs out.

The flutter of your napkin onto the makeshift mat spread across the lawn catches his attention, his eyes darting to the rogue square of fabric before slowly flicking back up to meet your gaze. You leaned back in your chair, looking at him expectantly, lips quirking just enough to toe the line between innocent and insufferable.

Joel’s jaw twitches.

“Fuckin’ pick it up on your own, sweetheart.” his voice was laced with just enough irritation to make your smirk widen. Still, you couldn’t resist one last little prod.

Your legs shifted, one crossing over the other, the toe of your shoe brushing lightly against the denim of his jeans. His eyes darted down to the motion before snapping back up, a muscle in his jaw tightening.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to apologise?” 

Joel shifts in his chair, arms crossing over his broad chest as he gave you a look that sent a shiver down your spine. “Think I settled my debts, crackles.”

You roll your eyes at his taunt, the warning laced in it only served to burn in your gut like uncontrollable lust. You felt yourself grow bored now that he’d ruthlessly cut you off from your only source of entertainment. 

The thrill begins to wane, you’d grown impatient at Joel’s lack of well, giving in. Though the idea, a possibly stupid one, that you might’ve needed to give him a little push crosses your mind. 

With a deliberate stretch, you rose from your seat, leaning over the table to reach for the salt shaker resting comfortably on Joel’s side with a hand placed on his thigh. It was perfectly positioned for him to hand it over to you–if you’d bothered to ask. But that wasn’t the point.

For a moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His jaw clenched so tight you could see the faint tick of his pulse. Slowly, you eased back into your seat, dragging your fingers in a slow deliberate curve as you went.

The sharp grip of his hand on your wrist came next, firm enough to make you gasp. Joel’s dark eyes locked on yours, his nostrils flaring as he tried to keep whatever storm was brewing behind them at bay.

You pressed your tongue against your cheek, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. He’d taken the bait all right. The unmistakable rise against where your hand was placed told you what you needed to know. Hook, line, and sinker.

It doesn’t quite matter to him whether you’d forgiven him anymore. 

With a sharp tug, Joel pulls you up with him. “S’cuse me. This one isn’t feeling too well.” 

The protest dies in your throat when Joel practically hauls you across his yard, away from the nosy glances from the rest of the parents. 

You frown at the dusty old garage he leads you to up front where you’d parked your car. A hand comes up the back of your head to force you to duck underneath the half opened door, cringing at the loud sound it draws. 

You tip your head up to watch Joel grab the edge of the half-opened garage door to full slam it down shut.

Fuck. You felt your cunt clench with the way his sleeves tightened around his forearms, wetting your lips subconsciously at the sight.

“This where you murder me, Mr Miller?”

His jaw ticks at that. There it was again. Mr Miller.

“Shut up.”

You mouthed the words wow as you looked to the side. As though there was a camera you were monologuing to. Joel approaches you tentatively. Backing you up until you feel sturdy metal stop your path. 

A firm slam against the hood you were backed up against causes you to jolt. 

“You’re fuckin’ with me.” He begins. Shifting closer until he had you snug against him and the truck. “You’ve been fuckin’ with me.”

You tilt your head up. Neck stretched uncomfortably to its limit. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Joel sighs. Looking towards the side, as though he might back off and run away again. 

“This ain’t right.”

You frown. Why was he getting cold feet now? You gaze darts to the side, following his line of vision. A frilly pink bicycle parked in the midst of the dusty old boxes stacked up against concrete walls. Some labelled with years of mementos of his daughter growing up. 

Joel groans when he feels a much smaller, soft hand cup against the growing strain on his jeans. “Judging by this, I think you’re full of shit.”

His restraint teeters on the edge. “Don’t.” He grasps around your wrists to stop you, though, he half asses it, barely with the amount of strength he could’ve used if he’d really wanted you to stop.  

You palm against his erection, feeling it quickly harden beneath. You suck in your breath at the way his brows furrowed in concentration, the slight twitch of his lips. A whimper leaves your lips at how receptive he’d been to your touch. 

“You’re trouble.” He manages. Finally meeting your gaze. You can tell he’s conflicted, but the way you cupped around his balls through the denim has him keeling over with a rough exhale. 

He finally gathers enough strength in him to force your hand away from his cock. Just as you were about to whine about it, he flips you over. You steady your palms against the hood of his truck. 

“Gotta be quiet. You understand me?” You nod quickly. Not daring to speak considering how his voice already echoed in the garage even at its softest.

Your elbows move to rest against the dirtied metal. Folding it so you could comfortably rest your head on it. 

Joel lets out a low whistle at the way you bend your hips. Hiking your skirt up slowly. “Fuckin’ hell sweetheart.” He mutters. Thumb swiping against the growing dampness of your panties. 

A dull noise from his zipper is the only other thing you hear when you feel him grind his clothed cock against you. 

“Mr Miller—please.” You breathed out. Your thighs tenses, wiggling your hips higher to relieve the ache you felt. Feeling his hardness prod against your folds. 

Joel sighs softly, thumbing against your clit before you curl into yourself. “Don’t need it.” You breathe out quickly. There’s a pause in his movements before you feel a thumb hook around the waistband of your panties. Dragging it down to your ankles. 

The sound Joel makes at the sight of your slick stringing down the gusset of it makes him wince out audibly. Two fingers gather the slick of your folds, messily dragging it up and down your clit in a repeated notion. His fingers dipping in and out of you with a squelch. You groan out. Hips stuttering at the sensation. 

“Hurry.” You urged.

You feel his other palm carefully twirl around the back of your hair. The breath knocks out of you when he heaves you backwards into his chest with a sharp tug. Fingertips entwined with your locks.

“Been patient with ya all fuckin’ day and ya think you got the right t’rush me now?”

Tears threaten to prick in the corners of your eyes at his tone. You grip around his wrist where he holds your hair. “…hurts” , you whisper, guiding his other hand back to your clit, “..here.”

Joel swallows thickly. He clenched his jaw so damn tight you audibly heard just how hard he ground them. How could he deprive you further when you were begging so sweetly? 

He shucks his jeans down further, guiding his twitching cock out from his boxers. A drawn out groan leaves your lips when he nudges the head of his cock against your soaking pussy. Your moan echoes loudly into the space around you both. 

He growls into your ears. Before you could apologise, your voice gets muffled around the heavy palm that comes to cover your mouth. You whine against it. “Told t’be fuckin’ quiet.” He grits, voice hushed against the side of your head. 

Your eyes nearly roll back at the way he begins to thrust into you with the tip in an effort to get you used to his size. But it didn’t matter. The way his cockhead stretched your pussy out stung. But it was quickly replaced by the nauseating need to be fucked full. 

Joel leans down to trace kisses up your neck before he fully sheathes himself into you. The muffle around your mouth grows tighter to suppress the loud moan. “Shh shh…you’ve got it.” He praises, breathing heavily into your ears. 

The tears trickle directly over his knuckles. He releases the grip he had on your hair, looping around your abdomen. Snapping his hips into you at a punishing pace. You babble incoherently, practically slobbering into his palms, whining about how deep his cock was pounding into you. 

The obscene slaps of where the two of you connected fills the garage, only spurring his need to fill you deep with his come. 

Joel lets out a groan when you clench around his dick like vice. “Fuck. Pussy’s chokin’ me.” His head drops to the dip of your neck. Pressing kisses onto your pulse point. 

“Don’t think I can last much longer.” He admits, dragging his hand–slick with your saliva down to your throat. His head flush against your shoulder blade. He takes a moment to breathe you in. Joel isn’t quite the man he used to be and coming this embarrassingly fast wasn’t on his docket. Least of all tonight.��

You squirm a little at the sensation of Joel’s stubble against your shoulder. A deep exhale leaving your lips. 

“M…me too..” You pant out heavily. Resting your head back against his chest. Joel’s free hand slides underneath your sweater, yanking your bra down. 

A rough palm kneads the softness, tweaking your hardened nipples in a circular motion. “Shit. Mr—…Miller.” You manage. Squirming at how his palm gropes your tits clumsily. You give yourself the final push you needed, your fingers coming down to rub against your clit. 

Joel’s hips stutter at the sensation of your pussy convulsing around his cock, following your orgasm soon after. But he doesn’t stop. He fucks you through it. Both his hands firm around your hips. 

Your hands hastily come up to grab around his wrists. “Wait—stop—…stop.” You gasp out. Joel doesn’t quite register your pleas with how his mind was whirring around wanting to fuck his come deep into you until he feels a warm splatter of your release trickle down his thighs. 

Your bated breaths fill the garage. Mortified, you watch the liquid drip from the radiator grill of Joel’s truck. 

“I’ll be damned.” He muses, earning a warning look from you. Joel shakes his head, a low rumble from his chest makes you feel a little less embarrassed about squirting onto his truck. He turns you around to press a kiss onto the apple of your cheeks. 

“Been meanin’ to get er’ washed. Guess I don’t gotta anymore.”

[misctf]

The Haunted House II

Back with another Halloween themed story to celebrate the month! This is an indirect sequel to The Haunted House. Enjoy!

“You’ll wanna use these for pie and those for eatin’” Cal says with a warm smile. And just like several customers before, she thanks him for his kindness, “Aw shucks, jus’ glad to be here.” Each word rich with his country accent.

Today was the local college’s annual Autumn Festival. Cal’s father would have him man their stand. It was something the young farmer enjoyed each year and the locals always looked forward to seeing him. But once a year was good enough for him. He never went to college, but didn’t feel he was missing out. He loved the countryside and his life on the farm.

“Besides,” He thinks eying a group of college guys, “They’re all a bit backwards ‘round here.”

The group of bros were talking about a Halloween party that night. Their obnoxious laughter filling the air as they discussed ‘future conquests’. Their vocabulary rich with words like “rizz”, “bro”, and “lit.” Cal couldn’t wrap his head around it. Outside of being from the countryside, he figured being 30 years old contributed. To him, they all seemed immature and rude. A stark contrast to the values instilled in him by his god-fearing parents.

“Well, that was the last of it. Guess I should pack up.” After finishing, he looks down at his watch, “Well I’ll be, there’s still time before supper. Might as well explore.” He figures he might find a gift for his parents and girlfriend, Anna.

Cal walks pass various stands and attractions- enjoying the sense of community and the cool autumn breeze. And as he reached the end of the festival, he saw it- a large, wooden, and derelict house.

“That wasn’t here last year.” He mumbles, walking over to the plaque near the entrance, “Scariest experience you’ll ever have.” He reads. He scratches the hairs on his chin and grins, “A haunted house, huh?”

His neighbors would turn their farmhouse into a haunted house. And it was scary. Cal remembered the first time he took Anna. He damn well near pissed himself. If he wasn’t trying to impress her, he actually might’ve.

“Scariest, huh? I’ll be the judge of that.” He chuckles.

Without another thought, he enters. The inside was dark, illuminated by a few candles. The musty smell of mothballs and mildew invaded his nose, but he reassured himself it was nothing compared to the cows on a hot summer day. Eventually, he found himself standing in front of a large mirror.

“I see.” He smiles, “It’s one of them fun mirror houses.”

He feels somewhat relieved. This was nothing compared to his neighbor’s haunted house. He follows a creaky flight of stairs, until arriving at a somewhat familiar looking door.

“Well I’ll be.” He raises an eyebrow.

From what he could tell, it was a replica of the door to his room back home. He opens it slowly, his eyes widening as he enters what appeared to be a total copy of his bedroom.

“There’s no way.” He whispers, only to jump as the door slammed shut behind him.

He looks around finding his neatly made bed, his desk littered with equipment manuals, a pair of his work boots, and pictures of animals and the outdoors. Even his fishing gear sits nicely in the corner of the room. The only difference being the large mirror propped against the wall. Cal took an apprehensive step forward.

“Call me crazy...” He mutters, approaching his desk.

And as he picks up one of the manuals, he feels a shock. He watches closely as the manual starts to shift and change. The cover now showing off a nude man, flexing his muscles. Cal gasps and drops it as the remaining manuals reform into all kinds of lewd magazines. And he watches as a laptop materializes on his desk, immediately opening to gay porn- the sounds echoing loudly.

“What on Earth?” Cal gasps, feeling his cock tenting in his jeans, “Naw, this ain’t...”

He backs away, falling onto his bed. And when he does, images flash through his mind. He can hear his neighbor Billy. He’s moaning, begging for more. And Cal grunts from a sudden warmth around his cock.

“This don’t make sense.” Cal huffs, holding back a moan as he bucks his hips.

Billy was never near his room. Cal’s parents warned him about Billy’s sexual preferences. Yet he could hear Billy’s voice now, clear as day. His moans a symphony in Cal’s head as he absentmindedly massages his tented cock.

“Wasn’t that a good fuck?” A voice said.

“Fuckin’ was.” Cal slurred, recalling Billy’s firm ass.

He shakes his head and leaps from the bed, sweat trickling down his face. He never... not with a guy. Not even with Anna. He was waiting until marriage.

“Huhuh remember Anna’s face when she caught you?”

A new unwanted memory appears. The day Anna walked in on him and Billy. Her look of disgust. How his parents didn’t even know what to say, just going on about how disappointed they were.

“Whatever...” The voice continued, “At least we got bragging rights.” Cal groans as he remembered telling his friends about banging an older woman. But wasn’t he the same age as Anna?

“Nah fam, you’re 21.”

Before Cal could respond, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He couldn’t explain it, but he looked younger. He runs a hand along his smoother skin and watches with amazement as his facial hair falls to the floor. He moans as rush of hormones and energy fill his body.

“No, this isn’t right...” Cal’s eyes widened, “My voice... what...?” His country accent gone- now more akin to the bros from outside earlier.

He retreats from the mirror, awkwardly tripping over his work boots and falling into his closet. He looks up at his flannels and denim hanging neatly. And before his eyes, they morph. His clothes shifting into oversized hoodies, joggers, and tank-tops. He even catches a glimpse of his work boots as they become slides.

“Bruh, that drip ain’t hittin’ right.” The voice said, “Gotta ditch that fit.”

“What are you even...” Cal stops, hating how similar their voices sound.

But he quickly finds out what the voice meant. He yelps as the cool air caresses his now naked form. His rock-hard cock exposed and throbbing from the cool draft.

“But how...?” His eyes inspect his naked form.

He no longer sports a farmer’s tan. Instead, every inch of his skin was sun kissed- a rich bronze. And even his chest and belly hairs fall out. He frowns at the loss of the tokens of his traditional masculinity.

“Fuck this.” He curses, stumbling out of the closet, “Wait, no way.”  

The pictures of animals and nature have been replaced by pictures of half-naked men and women. He groans as memories of jerking off to these pics fill his mind, and he shudders as the moans from his laptop seemingly got louder.

“I gotta bust.” He mumbled, thinking back to Billy’s ass, “But... no, fuck...”

His voice drips with smugness- deep and dull now. And nothing he did could prevent him from sounding like a typical douchebro. Taking a step back, he trips over a dumbbell.

“Bruh, where’s my fishing gear!?”

Instead, there’s a full set of dumbbells and a bench press. And his jaw drops when he caught his reflection again. Gone were his lean muscles. He now sports broad bis and tris. His pecs now a pair of meaty muscle tits. He slowly runs his hand along his six-pack abs, an unwanted pride filling him.

“Being jacked's a vibe, bro, no cap.” The voice said as Cal bounces his pecs.

“Facts bruh, a little extra muscle never hurt nobody.” Cal bites his lip, “No, oh fuck... my head...” Memories of guys and girls drooling over his muscles make his dick twitch. He loves the way those sluts would salivate over him, “Please... no...”

He winces as an intricate forearm tattoo engraves into his skin. And he gasps as a few bracelets materialize on his arm. There was no way... he would never buy shit like this. He was saving his money for more important things, right?

“Bruh, when you’re on OnlyFans, the bag’s there, no cap.”

Cal watches as a ring light and video camera materialize on his desk. Memories of his content flooding his weakened mind. The modest part of him blushing as he recalled the lewd content he created. Cumming on camera, teasing his cock, fucking Billy...  

“They love watchin’ this dick in action.” He smirks, giving his monster a few tugs.

Yet, part of him was terrified- his values and kind-hearted nature resisting the persona that was taking over. And he quickly released his cock and grabbed his head.

“You gotta let that go, fr.” The voice said.

“Deadass, I’m not lettin’ this slide.” Cal shot back.

And as he turns back to the mirror, he saw himself. His real self. Still naked. But a reflection he was more used to- his farmer’s tan, lean muscle, and body hair. Not sporting a tattoo or fake jewelry. The kindness still in his eyes, albeit fearful.

“It’s me...” He whispers.

But when he looks down, all he sees is his newly bronzed skin, two slabs of chest meat, cobblestone abs, and his 12 inch, throbbing cock.

“No... I don’t want this...”

Desperately, he reachs out to the mirror- to his old self. Wanting nothing more than to go back to being himself. But as his hand touches the mirror, it shatters. Cal cries out and tumbles through the opening, falling to the ground just outside the haunted house.

“Oh fuck...” He curses, pushing himself up.

He looks down at his tanned, meaty hand. His tattoo and arms on full display in his tank-top. His pair of joggers doing little to hide his raging boner. In a dazed panic, he grabs his phone and opens snapchat.

“It’s me, bruh. For real.” He keeps staring at the photo, his eyes dulling, “Damn.. I got that rizz today.” He swipes through a few filters and grins, “Lit.” His selfie now framed by the entrance to the haunted house, “Scariest experience you’ll ever have.” He chuckles, “No cap.” He uploads the selfie for his thirsty followers.  

“Bruh, you good?” Cal looks up at the group of guys from earlier.

“Ghost play with your cock, CJ?” One quips, nodding towards the outline of the boner in his pants.

“CJ?” Cal mumbled. Yeah... He likes that... CJ, “Bruh, that house was straight-up bussin’, no cap.” CJ chuckles and readjusts his dick, “Ayo, quit staring unless you're gonna do something about it.” He stands up, “Like, don’t we have a party to hit up?”

Later, CJ stands in his dorm room, flexing after his shower. His dick needed some attention- not like he ever had a problem with that. That’s why he went to fuckin’ college in the first place. His basic ass parents could waste their lives on that farm. Nah fam, CJ had bigger and better things ahead of him- as did whoever guy’s ass he was baggin’ that night. CJ chuckles, already feeling his cock hardening.

[farfallasims]

Lot Recommendations | Spooky Season Edition, Pt. 05 🎃

01. Halloween Neighbourhood by FindJoo (50x50) | No CC 02. Gothic Vampie Castle by NoelleIsLame (40x30) | No CC 03. Underground Vampire Club by LemonDrop123456 (20x20) | No CC 04. Outdoor Halloween Party by Simcubeez (30x20) | No CC

Massive thank you to the builders!