#twelve foot tall Home Depot skeleton | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

booleanean · 1 year

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Day 4 - Agalmatophilia - Skeletons - Abduction

Alex leaned on her broom, staring at the display model of the twelve foot skeleton. The store had closed a while ago. Terry, her asshole manager, had sent everyone else home and was doing whatever it was asshole managers did in the backroom after closing while she swept up the last of the store.

She always paused by the skeletons though. Ever since her first Halloween at the Depot, she'd been fascinated by them. That first year had been rough, she'd had to sneak to the bathroom to masturbate at least once a shift. Something about its presence and size, the alabaster lines of its collarbones, the curve of the fingers, and those long, slender legs…

Alex caught herself biting her lower lip and staring. She quickly went back to sweeping. The only reason she was taking on extra shifts, was because she was hoping she could afford one of these by the end of the season, if they had them in stock that long. Her emergency fund had been drained over the summer, and she'd had to dip into her skelly savings when her washer broke the day before they came in stock.

"Heads up!"

Terry's keys hit her in the shoulder half a second later.

"Ah, too slow. I'm heading home, lock up when you're done."

"But—" Alex protested, but Terry was already turning the corner on the next aisle and heading for the employee exit.

Terry stuck his head around the corner. "Oh, and don't worry about clocking out, I already did that for you."

"Asshole," she muttered under her breath as she heard the door slam shut behind him, the sound echoing around the empty store. A shiver went up her spine at the thought of being alone in the giant building, and having to walk back to her rickety old truck in the parking lot alone. She screamed wordlessly in defiance, cursing capitalism and managers and student loans and a terrible job market that kept her working in this dead end job way longer than she intended to.

Sighing, she rushed through sweeping up, mostly just spreading the dust around and pushing the larger bits under the racks for the next deep clean. She would've worried Terry would check the surveillance cameras tomorrow and see that she did a shitty job, but he'd left his office unlocked earlier, and she'd seen all the cameras offline. He'd cursed so loudly at the repair tech during her break, she knew they'd be out until Thursday at least.

Before she left, she stopped by the skeletons one last time. The empty store didn't feel so empty with her large, alabaster crush towering over her.

"What's a tall, handsome skeleton like you doing in a dump like this?" Alex asked, trying out her worst pickup line.

In her imagination, the skeleton laughed, then complimented her in turn. In a flash, she pictured a night of intense passion, followed by a second, then a third date at a cute bistro by the river. They dated briefly before eloping and living off the land in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies, far enough north that they never saw another soul, living or dead.

The fantasy left her feeling a little sad. It was something that could never be. The feeling reminded her of when she was little, and she'd hoped her stuffed toys would come to life to play with her. She'd been so hopeful when she watched Toy Story, and like any kid, tried to catch her toys for months after. She'd tried to reason with them too, one phrase becoming a sort of mantra against the loneliness she'd felt as a kid. She felt that same loneliness now.

"I know you're alive, but it's okay, I won't tell anyone."

The skeleton's massive head shifted, then turned towards her. Her heart pounded in her chest before she convinced herself she must've just bumped it and it was settling. She took a step back, in case it tumbled over.

"You— you know I'm alive? Bless my bones, finally someone to talk to." The skeleton spoke, it's hand moving up to scratch the back of its head.

Alex screamed at the top of her lungs, and fell back on her ass, then scrambled back.

"Wait! Wait, why are you scared! You said— Oh, fiddle and sticks, you were joking. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! Please don't be afraid."

"What! How! Who?" Alex managed.

The skeleton stepped off the platform it had been set up on and crouched down, hugging its legs to its chest. It was still taller than she would be standing up.

"Don't be afraid, let me help you up." It held out a long, bony hand she felt could wrap completely around her waist, palm upturned. "I am dreadfully sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Alex's head swam. Had she hit her head hard enough to hallucinate? Was she having a stroke? Would whoever was opening tomorrow morning find her dead in a pool of her own drool? She'd heard people evacuated their bowels when they died. The indignity of being found dead in a Home Depot covered in her own excrement made her feel nauseated.

"I—," she started, but didn't even know what to say.

"This must be very confusing to you."

"Am I dying?"

The skeleton pulled its head back, still looking at her. "Eventually, all humans do. But I don't think today is your day. My name is John. My friends call me Gino."

The large skeleton sat down, folding his legs under himself. He folded his long limbs under him. The sight of a twelve foot, animated skeleton sitting crisscross applesauce on the floor of the DIY store she worked at was enough to let her get back to herself somewhat. She still wasn't convinced she wasn't currently dying, but if she was, she might as well die with a smile on her face. This was what she'd been fantasizing about after all.

She held her hand out. "Alex."

"A pleasure to meet you, Alex."

"How—" Alex started, but realized asking how someone was alive was probably very rude, especially to a twelve foot tall skeleton.

"How am I alive, and why can I talk?"

Alex blushed. "Mm-hmm."

"Hmm, well, I suppose I don't really know. Do you know why you are alive?"

"I— Hmm, I think— I guess I don't."

"As for how I can talk, all my people can talk."

"Your people?"

"You wear the colors of the Collectors, I thought you'd know."

"Collectors?"

"Ah. Well, let me start at the beginning. I'm from a secluded valley far north of here. We've had some contact with humans, but try to avoid them as much as possible. Lots of people seem to be bothered by the way we look, something to do with an unfortunate coincidental similarity between our appearance and your internal structure, I gather.

"A few years ago, a series of graverobbing incidents shook my community. Thousands of our ancestors were dug up and carted off. Year after year this continued. We only die from violence you see, and our graveyards are filled with the honored dead who gave up eternity to keep the rest of us safe. We tried to guard the graves of our fabled warriors, but the robbers — humans, dressed like you are — brought weapons. We are much larger and stronger of course, but were out-gunned and outnumbered. Many fell and were carted off along with the rest of our dead."

"Oh my god, that's terrible! I had no idea!" Alex felt terrible for wanting to buy one. How many of their dead had she helped sell? She loved convincing people to buy these skeletons, and her enthusiasm really helped her sales numbers. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

"I can feel your honesty, Alex, I understand."

"So how did you get here? I thought they only took your dead?"

"I was sent to investigate, but I was caught infiltrating one of your warehouses. They managed to trap me in a net, then beat me until I lost consciousness. By the time I woke up, I was on display here. I had to stay quiet, or my cover would be blown. I thought they would beat me or kill me and sell my bones. I've been slowly recovering and waiting for a chance to escape."

"Why didn't you run away at night?"

"I tried, but the doors were locked. I couldn't force them, I'm still weak from my injuries and so hungry. I think it would set off an alarm too, and then they'd hunt me down. Besides, from what I know of your people, these stores are usually in the center of large urban areas, are they not?"

"How do you—"

"Just because we're a race of sentient skeleton people, doesn't mean we don't have basic cable, Alex."

Alex suppressed a grin. "Want to get out of here then? I've got the keys for the loading door, if you can't fit out the employee exit."

"I think I can squeeze through, but what about people outside?"

Alex thought for a second. "I've got an idea, meet me by the loading door back there in a few minutes."

That's how, fifteen minutes later, Alex was bombing down Main St. with an actual, for real, alive twelve foot tall skeleton sitting in the back of her truck. His was doing an eerily good impression of a dead load. He rocked back and forth as she made her way through town, to the small suburban house she'd inherited from her grandmother a few years after she finished college.

She managed to pull into the garage without bumping Gino's head. She helped him out of the truck bed, then pulled the truck back out into the driveway and shut the garage door. Sitting on the steps to the house, she looked at Gino sitting in the middle of her garage, surrounded by the random detritus that seemed to gather in any garage over the years.

"I cannot thank you enough, Alex. I thought I would be stuck there for weeks until I was sold, or maybe worse…"

"Of course. I'm so sorry the company I work for did such terrible things to you and your people. If there's anything more I can do…"

"I couldn't possibly ask more of you. I will head out while it is still dark, and try to make my way back to my people."

"You should rest here at least for today. I can see if I can get you some food. Maybe we can find an easier way to get you back to your people, or even come up with a plan to stop the Home Depot from harming your kind. If people knew what they were doing—"

"A place to rest would be appreciated."

"What do you eat?"

"I can eat most foods you eat, though I desperately need a source of calcium, some old animal bones or something like that. I feel brittle."

"I've got some fortified milk I think is still good. Let me check the fridge."

As she got up, her eye fell on a box stuffed in a corner of the garage. It was full of antlers from deer her grandfather had shot on hunting trips. She'd been meaning to get rid of the dreadful thing, but just never really got around to it.

She grinned and pointed to the box, Gino's head turning to look. "Will antlers work?"

"Ooo, deer antlers, I haven't had those in years! They'll do just fine, thank you."

The two of them chatted as Gino snacked on the antlers. His eyes glowed a soft green, something she'd mistaken for the LED screens built into his dead ancestors by the evil corporation she worked for. As he devoured the box of antlers, she thought the glow became stronger more steady. She could see tiny fracture lines in his skull and arms knit back together too, the fresh bone a bright contrast to the distressed and dirty old bone.

He told her about his people, how they had learned to hide from European settlers. They had some contact with humans, a few small groups that had set out to live in the wilderness away from society that they traded with. They had also helped introduce technology, though they mostly limited its use to entertainment and lighting.

Meanwhile, Alex told Gino about her job, how she felt stuck, trapped by capitalism in a job she hated but couldn't afford to leave without immediately getting another job that would be just as bad. He listened attentively, nodding along with her. His knowledge of human culture was mostly from TV shows and the 11 o'clock news, but he knew enough to follow what she was saying.

Hours passed like they were minutes, Alex grabbing some pop for herself to drink, bringing a big tub of leftovers for Gino. He washed it down with the milk, drinking straight from the gallon jug. The serving spoon looked tiny in his massive hand, even with the dish towel wrapped around it so that he could grip the slippery metal. She had no idea where the food went, it just vanished into the darkness in his mouth without coming out the back when he swallowed.

After he'd eaten, conversation died down a little. Alex had rarely felt so comfortable with anyone, even her friends. She kept checking him out too, the attraction only growing knowing he was alive and oh so kind and thoughtful. She caught herself drifting into a fantasy where he carried her away from here, to his homeland and made love to her under the stars every night.

"I have a bit of a strange request," Gino said, pulling her back out of her fantasy. "I've been on the road for weeks, and then trapped in your store for weeks more. I haven't had a chance to wash in so long, I feel absolutely filthy. Do you maybe have a bucket or a wet towel?"

"I can give you a hand if you want." It flopped out of her before she could stop it. She blushed bright red and looked away.

Gino paused, making her feel like she'd gone too far. Then, hesitantly, he said, "I would very much like that, Alex."

They discussed logistics for a while, coming to the conclusion she didn't really have any implements big enough for him to handle comfortably, before resolving that she would wash him instead. Alex filled several buckets with warm water in the utility sink and got out her car washing kit. She cracked the garage door just enough so the water could run out and into the driveway, then took off her shoes and socks, and rolled up her jeans. The garage floor was cold on her bare feet, but one look at Gino's reclined form gave her all the heat she needed to stay warm.

She started with his hands, brushing the hot, soapy water across his long, slender digits until they were bone white again. Scrubbing off the artificial weathering her evil employer had applied took some effort, but he said he enjoyed the rough treatment with the brush. She bit her lip, subconsciously picturing what these digits would feel like on her skin, massaging her, sliding into her. She'd expected them to be rough, but the texture was smooth and even. There was no give of course, but the sandpapery texture she'd expected from exposed bone was absent.

Cleaning his radius and ulna was much quicker, the weathering and grime coming off easily on the smooth surface. After she finished with his left arm, she started on his right. By the time she was working on his torso, scrubbing the inside and outside of his ribcage, she was breathing hard, not from the exertion, but because being so intimately close with a creature so perfectly sculpted to push her particular buttons was turning her on more than she had anticipated.

"If you need to rest, we can continue tomorrow," Gino offered.

Alex blushed again, shaking her head. "I'm not winded, just— I want to keep going, if you do as well."

"This feels very good," Gino admitted.

Alex blushed again, and looked him in the eyes. His sockets glowed with a steady, green glow. The flicker was gone, the light illuminating outer rim of his ocular cavity. She felt an intensity in his gaze she had never felt from anyone else, a draw to keep going.

She shook herself, and continued cleaning, brushing every nook and cranny along his spine with a fresh toothbrush — using an old one seemed weird somehow — then focusing on his legs. When she finally finished with his toes, she turned to him.

"I can do the rest myself, if you prefer," Gino said.

Alex shook her head. "I want to—"

As she cleaned his hips, working outside in along his pelvic bone, she caught glimpses of a faint, green glow right where a penis would be on someone with flesh. The glimpses grew more frequent, and more well defined as she got closer.

"Sorry, I—" Gino said. Alex ignored him, and finished cleaning, then rinsing his pubic bone. Her hand brushed against something intangible.

"I'm sorry, I should— That is, I'm— This—" Gino tried to speak, but couldn't.

"It's okay, Gino. I don't mind."

Gino sighed, a strange sound coming from a creature without lungs. "I'm sorry. This is very taboo among my people, but I find you very attractive, and— Sorry, I should go, I'll leave immediately, I shouldn't have said that, I—"

Gino tried to get up, but Alex pushed him back down with gentle pressure. Even sitting, he was taller than she was, but despite his protests he let himself get pushed back to the floor.

"I find you very attractive as well. I— I want to do more than just clean your bones."

Alex pulled her shirt off over her head, followed by her bra, and tossed them in the corner. She could feel Gino's eyes on her. He looked radiant, all the weathering and grime washed off, leaving him shining in the soft illumination of the garage.

"Do you like what you see?"

"Mm-hmm," Gino replied. Idly, Alex wondered how he could hum without lips.

"Do you want to touch me?"

"Very much." There was no hesitation, just a hint of anticipation in his voice.

She held out her hands, taking his and guiding them to herself. His hands were massive on her. She wasn't skinny by any definition. Most people would call her stocky, but each of his hands reached two thirds of the way around her. She could feel the restrained strength in them, sensing that he could've ripped his way out through any of the exterior walls of the Home Depot if he needed to.

He was so gentle with her though, the tips of his fingers brushing along her spine as his hands slid up her body. His thumbs pressed against the bottom of her breasts, caressing the soft flesh. He explored every inch of her exposed skin with careful fingers. He wasn't as cold as she'd thought he would be, his limbs well above ambient temperature but still colder than she was.

"Your skin is so hot," he whispered.

"Is it uncomfortable?"

He shook his head. She took one of his hands in both of hers, and brought it to her face. She sucked the tip of his thumb into her mouth, and played her tongue around it. The smooth digit felt amazing in her mouth, everything she could've dreamed it would be like and more.

Gino tilted his head back, but kept her gaze as she sucked on his thumb. A low, soft moan, so deep it was at the edge of hearing, rumbled out of him.

Alex could see the glow above his pelvic bone clearly now. There wasn't a defined edge as such, but there was something there. Her hand had brushed it earlier, but it seemed fully formed now. The green glow implied more than showed what promised to be an impressively large cock, even for someone his size.

He caught her looking at it, and she pulled his thumb out of her mouth.

"You like when I suck on your thumb?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I think I can see that." She grinned and nodded at his glowing member.

She sank to her knees between his thighs, ignoring the discomfort of kneeling on the hard concrete, and reached out. The sensation of touching Gino's glowing cock was odd, but pleasant. She was used to the velvet over steel feeling of an erect human penis, but this was different. There was something in her hand, she could feel something pressing back as she squeezed, but there was no friction, nothing sliding. The resistance felt like trying to push magnets together, slight at first but rising sharply the harder she squeezed.

Alex could feel his low moans deep in her chest, like the bass at a concert or the kickdrum of her drumkit. Clearly what she was doing felt good for him. She moved closer, still stroking up and down. Her fingers couldn't reach all the way around, not quite as thick around as a coke can, but definitely bigger than even her biggest toy. There was no hope she'd be able to fit him in her mouth, but maybe…

She licked the air above her hand, feeling an odd but pleasant tingling sensation on her tongue. The groan of pleasure he produced was gratifying. There was no discernable head, just a rounded area near the top of his spectral shaft. She focused her attention there.

"Oh yes, Alex, that feels so good."

"Am I doing this right?" she asked, before continuing her work.

"Yes, it's so good. Oh god, you're so warm and soft. I don't think I'll last long."

Having no idea what to expect, but incapable of stopping now, Alex sped up a little, squeezing a little harder, swirling her tongue. The tingling sensation grew a little more powerful, and the light of his cock pulsed in time with his moans.

"Alex yes, don't stop, oh yes."

With a mighty flash of light, Gino grunted his pleasure. Her tongue tingled, and she could even feel some static build on her hand. The green light pulsed in the garage, illuminating everything in lurid emerald flashes.

When the flashes subsided, he gently guided her away from him. Seems even skeleton men got overstimulated. Alex worked her tongue in her mouth. It felt a little numb, but she was regaining feeling quickly.

He stroked her back gently. "That was amazing, thank you."

"I'm glad you enjoyed," Alex said. She was preparing herself for the letdown, a lot of men just forgot about her needs as soon as they got off.

"I want to return the favor, if you'll let me," Gino said, his voice sincere, his gaze locked on her eyes. It was odd that she could tell what he was looking at, but she was convinced she could.

Without another word, she pulled her pants down, underwear and all, and tossed them into the laundry hamper sitting next to the washer. He guided her over to the washer, gently lifting her to set her on top. She leaned back, spreading her legs.

"I'm afraid I don't have a tongue, but maybe my fingers…"

Alex reached for his hand and guided his index finger to her cunt. He looked reverent as the tip hovered an inch away from her. She grabbed his finger, as thick around as an average man's cock, and slid the tip up and down, getting it wet with her juices. He gasped softly, then moaned along with her as she slid it inside.

The bone was hard inside her, unyielding, but not cold. She squeezed, wondering if he could feel the pressure, and saw in his eyes that he did.

"Start slow," she said.

He was gentle, careful not to hurt her. His finger felt good inside, the knobby shape giving an interesting feel to an otherwise entirely smooth sensation. He managed to get his finger inside of her just past the second knuckle, the distal and middle phalanx fully inside of her. She tilted her head back, and whispered "faster".

He complied, her pleasure building with his increased pace. Earlier today, she had almost lost hope that she'd ever even own a plastic copy of him, a fantasy forever left unfulfilled, and now he was making her cum in her own garage. Her wildest fantasies had never even managed to approach the amazing reality of her beautiful, alabaster lover. He was tender and eager, attentive to her needs, kind, intelligent, brave, and so incredibly strong.

She trembled as her orgasm approached, whispering "don't stop" over and over again until it became a mantra, until it meant more than just the now. She came hard, screaming his name as he whispered hers.

When she pushed him away, he took his finger to his mouth and tasted her, humming appreciatively. She'd seen the room light up green again, the glow of his cock returning with a vengeance as her own pleasure built. It pulsed proudly between his legs, clearly visible as she looked down through his rib cage.

"I want you inside of me. Come to the living room, I think you'll fit."

He helped her down, and she helped him crawl into the kitchen, then into the living room. At her direction, he picked up her heavy, solid wood coffee table and set it aside as if it weighed nothing. She put the couch pillows on the floor and laid down on her back, spreading her legs wide.

"I can't possibly fit—"

"Go slow. I need it."

She pulled him forward, grasping his cock and guiding it to her waiting cunt. The tingle she'd felt on her tongue was back, sending little shocks of pleasure through her even at the gentle touch. Positioning him at her entrance, she pulled at his hip. She felt herself slowly stretch to accommodate his size. She tried to relax. There was still no friction, just a pressure that built and built.

"Oh fuck, you're so big. Oh god."

When the tip slid in, she gasped. She felt incredibly full already, stretched wider than she thought possible. Holding him in place, she focused on taking deep breaths, then pulled him in deeper, ever so slowly. Gino towered over her, the bottom of his ribcage right in front of her face. She looked up at him and grinned.

"It feels so fucking good. That tingle…"

"You're so tight, Alex. Oh god, so hot, so soft."

Over the course of long minutes, Alex breathed as she took him deeper and deeper until he bottomed out inside of her, then stroked his ribs and hip bones as she adjusted to his size.

"Go slow. Very slow."

He pulled back, inch by delicious inch. The sensation was strange. The tingle felt incredibly good, like a soft, pleasant sensation of electricity. There was none of the friction she was so used to, no need for extra lubrication, just pressure inside of her, moving in and out. She fought to hold onto her sense of self, to stay in the moment with Gino. This was her longest standing fantasy, though the details of the act had never really been something she'd focused on. She'd always known this was impossible, but now it was happening, and she didn't want to miss a second of it.

She shuddered as Gino slid in and out of her, the pure pleasure of his touch overwhelming already. He kept his slow pace, until she told him it was okay to speed up.

Before long, she was in absolute ecstasy. She'd used big toys before, but the constant need for fresh lubrication took her out of the moment. Gino's non-corporeal cock didn't have that drawback, and at her urging, he had sped up, pounding her so good. She screamed his name as she came, clinging to any part of him she could reach. He had one hand next to her, and she wrapped hers around it, holding on for dear life.

She lost count of the number of times she came, her voice grew hoarse. Alex lost herself in his grunts and groans of pleasure, in the perfect moment she hadn't ever dared dream she could reach. Always, he was present with her, his towering alabaster form firm in her mind, solid under her touch.

As she came down off another mind bending orgasm, she felt the tingle build again, recognizing he was getting close.

"Cum for me, Gino, yes, cum for me, please, please, please," she begged him.

"Yes, Alex, yes! YES!" He bellowed his release, the glasses shaking in the cupboard with the sheer volume. Electric shocks spread through Alex, setting off another orgasm that almost caused her to black out. She clung to him, as he did to her, their pleasure mixing, building on each other, until finally it subsided.

After, they lay together, Alex panting, Gino stretched out next to her with his feet sticking out into the kitchen. Alex knew she could never let this go. A fantasy fulfilled sometimes lost its luster, but this— This had been too perfect, a fantasy for so long now made deliciously real. She wanted to know where this went.

Epilogue

The public outrage had almost brought Home Depot to bankruptcy. After returning to, ironically exactly like in her flash fantasy that fateful night, the foothills of the Canadian Rockies with Gino the week after their first night together, she'd slowly convinced him and his people that they needed to come forward.

Lots of people dismissed them as CGI at first, but when legitimate news agencies started showing interest, most of the world had to admit they were real. Religious debate raged for weeks about what this meant for humanity, souls, and the afterlife, but even that had died down now. A massive effort was undertaken to repatriate the remains of Gino's ancestors, many arrests were made based on quickly drafted legislation.

At first, Gino's neighbors had been skeptical, but slowly the two of them were breaking through the long held taboos of skeleton / human relationships.

Now, almost two years later, she'd been inducted into their religion, a process that included a number of ceremonies designed for someone twice her height. Luckily, the priest was accommodating, letting her perform her own version of some of the rites.

Moving here, she knew that when she died, she'd be buried in their soil. Something about this place would, over the course of a year, decompose her body, feeding the growth of her bones. She'd emerge from the soil a year to the day later, ready to spend another eternity with Gino. She was in no rush to die, she liked her body, liked her life here just as it was, but knowing she would be with her love for all eternity was such a comfort.

#krakentober #smut #home depot skeleton #shitpost smut #agalmatophilia #evil corporation #kinktober #original smut #original fiction

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tobesobri · 4 years

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When the Lights Go Out (Halloween fic; 8k)

𝖆/𝖓: first off, happy Halloween yall! This is my second favorite holiday and so I really wanted to get something up in celebration of it! I’ve talked a lot on here about having trouble with writing recently and so I do what I normally do with writer’s block and I just leave what I’m stuck on and go off to write something random, which is what this ended up being. So, my writing style is definitely different and maybe not great, but this is just for fun so I don’t care! I still hope you enjoy! There’s spookiness (not too much), enemies (frenemies) to lovers, pumpkin carving, smut, alcohol consumption, and giant skeletons 💀 (oh and Harry dressed as Tarzan 🥵)

my masterlist 🎃 my askbox

𝕸ost people’s Halloween traditions weren’t too complicated; usually involving cult-favorite scary movies—ranging from Halloweentown to Nightmare on Elm Street—handing out Snickers and Kit-Kats to tiny trick-or-treaters, or just getting wasted at a friend’s haunted house party down the street. Their friend group, on the other hand, opted for a pumpkin carving contest every year on Halloween at Jason Hallow’s house, and, yes, his favorite holiday is Halloween because of his last name. And so, a few years ago when they were all undergrads together, he began hosting the annual carving contest at his house, in which they all paired up and, at the end of the night, whichever pair’s pumpkin came out the best—as judged by Jason, the resident Jack O’ Lantern expert—won whatever candy was leftover. That and marathons of R-rated horror flicks as well as occasional breaks to go out in the neighborhood and scare some of the kids while dressed in terrifying monster masks and slightly drunk off their asses from too much Tennessee whiskey.

Jason’s house was, hands down, the place to be in their neighborhood. Everyone who came by always wanted to join in on their festivities, and one year, they’d been just drunk enough to let a few of-age neighbors join in. This year, though, it was different. The stakes were higher. They were competing not only for the candy, but also for the much envied twelve-foot tall skeleton Jason had found at Home Depot which currently sat in his front yard amongst his other outrageous decorations. The skeleton was definitely the most noteworthy and had been the center of plenty group photos from just about every one of his neighbors since he had brought it home and especially tonight. In fact, every time the doorbell rang and he greeted another group of kids in his gory doctor costume—because Jason was in med school after all—every one of them squealed about how much they liked his skeleton. And so it almost pained him to have to give it to one of his friends after tonight, but if he’s being honest, he has nowhere to store it—he’d purchased it completely on a whim—and next year they will compete for it all over again anyway.

Tonight is also different because Harry and Y/N are not getting along. They all knew this beforehand, but simply brushed it off until they realized it was much worse than anyone had imagined. They had a horrible friendship—if one could even call it that—ever since they’d met as freshmen pre-law students six years ago. Sometimes they got along, but mostly, they bickered non-stop at each other, which all their friends took as misguided flirting. They got along for about six months once, after a drunken hookup, until, of course, Y/N hooked up with someone else and set off the volcano that was their relationship all over again. It had been calm recently with both of them needing each other’s help through their vigorous law school studies. So, a truce had been made and they tolerated each other at best. Tonight, though, the monsters had truly been unleashed and neither one of them had stopped picking at each other since they’d arrived.

It began on the street, when Harry took the spot Y/N had wanted to park in. Then at the door, when he asked her how her midterms were going and she felt like stepping on his toes until she crushed them. Which was perfectly logical since his was barefoot and mostly naked in his stupid Tarzan costume he’d recycled about four times now since they’d all known each other. He only wore it when the weather was warm, as he claimed, but they all had a suspicion he wore it so that he could watch Y/N drooling over him all night.

She wasn’t innocent either, in his defense, at least not this year when she came dressed in a sexy Beetlejuice costume, something none of them ever thought was possible. But she made it happen. She wore a too-short black and white vertical striped t-shirt dress—which had rips in all the right places, particularly across her chest—and a pair of neon green boots that were Doc Marten knock-offs she had found online. Other than that, she had spray painted the front bits of her hair a grey-green color and did her makeup to match the theme, dark purple smokey eyes and a green color used as contour. It looked good, she looked good, not that Harry would ever say that out loud.

Jason’s entire living room and dining room floors were covered with plastic tarps. He’d set up the usual fold-away tables and chairs for everyone. It was an easy clean-up job that wouldn’t leave pumpkin guts smudged into his hardwood floors or, even worse, the beige carpet in his living room. And, as always, he had a line up of various pumpkins on his kitchen counter—and the necessary kit of carving tools—ready to go. They usually didn’t start until nine-thirty or ten, once everyone arrived and had a few drinks in them and they had all agreed on what movies to watch. This year was a marathon of The Conjuring franchise, because Jason had spent way too much money on a box set and he would not be wasting them. Nobody objected anyway because the movies held a sentimental value to all of them. Every year since the beginning when a new movie came out, they all managed to go see it together, and also cause a horrible ruckus in the theater. Although they’d almost been kicked out a couple times, it was still some of the best memories together they’d ever had.

There was also that one year, when Annabelle Creation came out and Y/N and Harry were getting along on account of the LSATs, that they’d secretly gone home together. And then, of course, pretended it never happened.

That had been the second time they slept together, the second time she’d woken in his bed, with Harry’s annoyingly toned arm wrapped all the way around her, and the last as well because Harry got into a serious relationship their first year of law school and that had been the end of things.

Well… not completely the end. At least not until tonight.

“Okay we’re getting started!” Jason announced over both the music and the television, which someone turned down before Jason continued. He stood, wobbling, on one of the foldable chairs, for no other reason than the bottle of vodka in his hand. He was teetering on the edge sobriety and really didn’t give a fuck if he fell off. “Y’all know the drill! Isa’s handing out the cards. No whining. No trading. Or you’ll be disqualified.”

The cards in question were riddles that they had to match up with the answer. Half of them got the riddle card, the other half an answer card and that would determine who their partner was.

Y/N both wanted Harry as her partner and detested the idea at the same time. She was all for it because, well, he was hot dressed in nothing but his small piece of brown loincloth fabric hanging loosely on his hips. But at the same time, she knew they wouldn’t win together and she really wanted that skeleton.

The riddles were all hand-made by Jason on his computer and then laminated in his girlfriend’s school’s teacher lounge however many years ago. They all knew every answer to every riddle by now, but it was still a much more fun way to pair up than picking names out of a hat.

Y/N read her riddle twice, having absolutely no recollection of the answer to it, however—which was probably due to the alcohol she’d consumed herself within the past hour. She wasn’t all to blame, though, Harry had a lot to do with it too. She was still mad at him, for what she wasn’t sure, but she also could not stop herself from stealing glances at him and the only way to stop feeling so many confusing things about Harry was to drown it all away.

She read her riddle one last time: The person who built it sold it. The person who bought it never used it. The person who used it never saw it. What is it?

Her brain felt like mush after the third read and she hoped someone would find her first and give her the answer. She peeked around at people’s cards as they all tried to find their pair, some of them meeting up immediately and getting the prime pick of the pumpkins. It had dwindled down to just a few of them and she finally waltzed herself up to Harry, grabbed his card from his hand without his permission and read it.

In bold, 16-point Helvetica font, it read: A coffin.

Of course.

She rolled her eyes, shoving his card against his stupid bare chest and groaning audibly. “Figures I’m stuck with you.”

When she finally looked up at him, though, she wasn’t all that upset about her odds as she pretended to be. Not with the way his face set into a devilish, wicked, up-to-no-good look that made her want to rip him from the room and rip his useless Tarzan costume off too while she was at it.

He had also been drinking, which was made even more clear when he opened his mouth. “You’ll always be stuck with me.” And then he leaned in a little bit, his smirk widening and his eyes darkening and the sweet smell of vodka on his tongue strengthening, “Forever.”

She hated the buzzing in her stomach he caused, and hated that she liked knowing they probably would, at the very least, know each other for the rest of their lives. It had already been six years since they met and she still hadn’t managed to shake him off. And now they were finishing up law school together and getting offers to work at the same firm together. There would be no escaping him, not that she really wanted to.

The only time she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him was when he had a girlfriend. She hated seeing him in her classes, in her study groups, her circles, at her internship. He was always there, though, rubbing it in her face as she had once done to him. Hers was just a dumb hookup, partially just to spite him, and his was… well he dated the girl for entire year before they broke up and he seemed genuinely heartbroken over it. It had been serious, and Y/N had been seriously miserable the entire time. Even more so when she found out they’d split up and she just about threw a party while Harry moped around campus. She couldn’t help it, though, she’d liked him ever since they met, but then they just sort of… didn’t get along all the time.

She knew he liked her too, at least a little bit, or he’d never have slept with her twice. How much he actually liked her though was still up for debate, and so she chose keeping their weird hate-love relationship over ruining all of it by admitting her feelings for him. Plus, she liked working with him and getting his help on exams and papers too much to ruin that as well.

Y/N grabbed the third to last pumpkin, an unopened carving kit, and led the way to two lonesome chairs. They sat closest to the door, and farthest from the dining room and Jason, in their own little corner where they had enough room to stretch out given that no else had laid any claim on the other side of their table yet.

“So,” Harry began once they were settled and Y/N began opening the kit of tools, “what are we making?”

Before giving him an answer, she laid out all the tools on the table in front of them, next to their poor misshapen pumpkin, and then reached down into the side of her boot and pulled out a black sharpie; she’d learned a couple years back to start brining one. It might have been cheating, sketching her design beforehand, but Jason never outlawed it.

“I’m making Jason’s favorite Tim Burton character and you’re in charge of the guts.” She dictated confidently, slapping the sawing tool and the large orange plastic spoon in front of him so he could get started right away.

He eyed the tools for a moment, then the pumpkin, and then finally her. “Absolutely not. I’m not doing all the shit work while you do the fun stuff.”

“Thought you’d be used to that.” She half-mumbled, but he still heard her over the rest of the noise in the house. And, frankly, she was right. When they had interned together last year, she always handed off the demeaning tasks to him, like getting the coffee or making copies, while she did the much more interesting parts of the job. What she didn’t know was that she didn’t make him do anything. He always did it so she didn’t have to.

He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, arms that her eyes—which were completely out of her control at that point—glued to immediately. He’d been working out ever since the break up and finally filled out the Tarzan costume a lot better. He’d always had a nice body, she knew that, but now… now he made her dizzy.

“I’m not doing it. Least not all by myself.”

She gave up then, mostly because she lost her will to argue against the pout of his lips and the flexing of his biceps—which weren’t ridiculously big, but they were subtle and modest and very much bigger than they had been this time last year when he’d dressed up as a shirtless baseball player. Most all of Harry’s costumes involved some level of nakedness and not much sense, but she didn’t complain too loudly. And his arms were definitely bigger now than they had been the last time she was in his bed and he was over her.

“Fine.” She groaned, grabbing the mini saw tool and then standing to begin carving a hole at the top of their pumpkin, around the stem. She made it big enough for them to be able to stick their hands inside, and then once she was finished, pulled the stem piece off and set it aside for later, chopping off some loose bits of pumpkin shreds first.

Despite his earlier protests, he was the first to dig into the pumpkin, standing as well and going hands first into the thing where he pulled out fistfuls and dumped it into a pile on the table. They went back and forth digging out the insides of the pumpkin until finally, Harry grabbed the spoon and really went in. And she didn’t even bother offering to help, and instead stared, again, at his stupid biceps and especially at his hands, which were slick from the pumpkin juice. She shuddered remembering where his hands had once been, and then pulled herself together remembering how long ago it had been and how very little interest he’d shown in picking up where they’d left off pre-girlfriend.

Once the pumpkin was fully gutted, they both sat again, and cleaned their hands off on the paper towels Jason had set up on each table.

She was the first to begin the process, sketching out the design with her sharpie of Oogie Boogie from The Nightmare Before Christmas. She’d carved the character before, but still needed a reference picture on her phone to get all the details right. And Harry watched her the entire time, memorizing her face for the millionth time while she concentrated, and sometimes he stared at her hands, too, hands he also found himself reminiscing over, to the point of needing to cross his legs so it wasn’t made visibly clear what he was thinking about. He was starting to regret recycling the Tarzan costume.

While they all worked, Jason answered the door and handed out candy about once every five minutes. The best part of their tradition wasn’t the pumpkin carving itself, but rather, the atmosphere. They loved the feeling, the adrenaline rush of it all. How messy everything would eventually get, how loud they all were. The anguished shouting when someone messed something up. The sounds of Thriller playing in the background mixed with the loud jump scares from the horror movies played all night long. It was heaven to any lover of Halloween (and they all loved Halloween).

She’d let Harry start the carving of the design, informing him what parts were staying and what parts needed to be cut away, before she ventured into the kitchen to grab them both a drink. On her way back, she paused for a moment, just watching Harry work over in their corner. The sight of him almost made her want to finally admit how she felt. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if he rejected her, at least then she’d know.

But then Zoe plopped down into her empty chair next to Harry and crushed everything back down like an aluminum can being recycled. She tossed back about half of her Smirnoff after Zoe had scooted closer to Harry and grazed her fingertips across his arm—the one he wasn’t using the carve the pumpkin. And at first, he ignored it, but then he set down the tool, pushed his hair back with his clean wrist and offered Zoe one of his annoying little smirks that Y/N always thought he saved just for her. But now, seeing him use it to flirt with Zoe, she felt stupid and betrayed. And stupid again for feeling betrayed.

She had no claim to him. She just had her memories, as inconvenient as they were at times. But that was nothing and it’d been so long that he showed any interest in her, in anybody, that for her to be jealous now was just pure selfishness. As much as she hated Harry sometimes, she still wanted to see him happy again.

Y/N made her way back slowly, eying what others were doing, until finally joining Harry again just as Zoe went back to her own pumpkin.

She was quiet for a moment, sipping on her drink, watching him as he got back to carving, before cleaning her throat as she finally said something, “What did Zoe want?” And she tried not to sound anything other than curious, but the way Harry glanced at her, with a raised brow, she knew she needed to be so much more subtle.

He took the other cup from her that she hadn’t drunk from and replenished his blood alcohol level. “She just asked me what I was doing after this.”

Instead of opening her mouth and being obvious, she just set her drink down and grabbed both the carving tool and the pumpkin from Harry to take over. He’d already done way more work than she had, so it was about time they switched anyway.

He eyed her curiously still, even though he allowed her to continue where he left off as he leaned back in his chair and took a break, downing what was left in his cup as she worked.

“You’re not jealous are you?” He finally asked, after a few moments to let his brain marinate in the alcohol in order to brave that question in the first place.

“No.” It was sharp. A piercing rejection he felt dig its claws deep into his heart. He couldn’t tell if she was lying or not, but if not, it hurt. More than he was willing to admit, even to himself. He wanted her to be jealous. He always did. That was part of the reason he’d gotten a girlfriend. And of course she was also part of the reason they broke up, if not all of it.

He nodded, “So it wouldn’t bother you if I went home with Zoe?”

He noticed her brief hesitation, when her hand stopped moving and she took in a breath of air, but then she settled again. “Doesn’t bother me what you do, Harry.”

Again, he nodded, still watching her just to get a sense of her reactions. Of course he had no plans on going home with Zoe. He just wanted to know. Where they stood. How Y/N felt about him. Whether she thought about their nights together as often as he did. When they were studying together and she’d shift her hair behind her shoulder and he’d get a whiff of her shampoo and be taken right back to one of those nights, and the nights that came after that when he got lost in that scent on his pillows until it eventually dissipated and left him craving more.

He tried again. One last time. If he still didn’t get the response he was hoping for, then he’d give it up and leave her alone. So, he sat forward, crossing his arms on top of the table, close enough to her now that the buzzing in her stomach reappeared even though she never braved a single glance at him. He was close enough that the smell of his cologne overtook the odor from the pumpkin. Close enough that she felt his breath on the side of her face when he spoke.

“So, I’ve just been imagining the way you’ve been looking at me all night then?” His voice was just above a whisper, and soft, caressing her ears as the sound crept its way inside of her. As it seeped into all the places the alcohol had been, although Harry was always something way more potent than whiskey or tequila. He made her head spin, made her feel everything and nothing at the same time. Made her heart flutter so much at times it hurt.

His words sunk in and all her motions stopped as she froze in place. She stopped carving their pumpkin, stopped blinking, stopped breathing. Staring blankly at their half-finished design until he was wrung out from her system completely. That never really happened, though, because he was staring at her, watching her with those glinting, impatient eyes, waiting for an answer. There wasn’t even the familiar hint of a smirk or a bit of amusement on his face anymore, either, that might have calmed her nerves. Because at least if he seemed to just be messing with her, she could play that game with him, but this was different.

He leaned forward a bit, trying to get her to look at him, to say something, anything, really. He’d be satisfied enough with her lies at this point. But he also knew the absence of an answer alone was all he really needed. He didn’t feel like he was getting ahead of himself, seeing the way her body reacted to him, by assuming that she felt, at least somewhat, the same way he did about her. Because if she’d been the one to ask if she was imagining how he’d been staring at her all night, he wouldn’t deny it.

Just as she opened her mouth, just as she had gathered enough words to form a coherent sentence, the room went dark. Pitch black, actually. The lights all around them flickering off, the television going blank, the music cutting out. And once the startled gasps and dramatic, drunken yelling had subsided, they were left in a ringing silence, so completely opposite to what they had been moments ago that it was painful for their ears to adjust to.

“What the fuck?” They heard Jason’s voice in the darkness and then, finally, a bit of light as he turned his phone’s flashlight on.

“Did the power go out everywhere?” Someone else asked.

And while everyone panicked, all Harry cared and thought about was Y/N’s hand wrapped tightly around his own on his lap. He wasn’t exactly sure when she’d grabbed for him, but once he realized she was there, he didn’t really care too much about the lights anymore. What he did care about still, however, was whether she’d ever answer his question now. If he’d ever get to hear what she was about to say just before the darkness cut her off.

A few of them stumbled about, making plans to go outside and check on things while everyone else stayed inside and waited. The room went dark for a few more moments as Jason left, but then someone else turned their flashlight on, and shined them at the ceiling so that there was at least enough light so that they didn’t have to sit in complete darkness.

If it wasn’t Halloween, the power going out wouldn’t have bothered her so much. Outages happened happened all the time. But now, in the middle of the second Annabelle movie with all sorts of other spooky shit around them, she couldn’t help but be terrified and imagine the worst. Like… what if there was a killer on the loose who had cut their power. What if the killer was chopping up Jason and the others and then eventually heading inside to do the same to all of them?

“Hey,” Harry mumbled beside her, inching closer and rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, realizing she’d grown tense when her grip on him had tightened. “You alright?”

Hearing his voice again, she let out a breath of air and tried to relax. She watched way too many scary movies and this was most definitely not one of them. Just a power outage, possibly due to everyone being home and using lots of extra electricity on their lights and decorations. She had no reason to panic. Although it could be blamed on Harry as well, if he hadn’t made her an astronomical amount of nervous just before.

She nodded until she realized Harry couldn’t even see her very well. “I’m fine.” She finally affirmed, and, to his dismay, took her hand away from his.

They sat in their own silence for a while, listening to the quiet conversations around them, particularly to Zoe and Julie who were trying to look up any information they could even though their phones were slow from the lack of Wi-Fi and service.

After a little while, she found his hand again in the dark, and this time, she wasn’t afraid from the power going out, but rather what she was about to say. Because if there was ever an opportunity to spill your guts to Harry Styles, it was in a dark room where his grassy green eyes weren’t all over you, sucking every ounce of courage from your bones.

Her voice was in a whisper, and she finally looked at him, or rather in his direction. To the outlines of his face, of his nose and his cheekbones. Even though she couldn’t find the green, she knew he was there, waiting, listening.

“You haven’t been imagining anything.”

She couldn’t quite see it, but his eyebrows had hit the ceiling and before he could question her further, she continued.

“I was miserable when you were seeing Liv and so fucking happy when you broke up.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t let that stop her, “And then miserable again because you didn’t want me. And maybe you still don’t, but it would really bother me if you went home with someone else.”

The quiet almost ate her alive for the next few seconds when he said nothing and she didn’t have his features to go off of. But then, she felt him getting closer until, finally, his lips were at her ear.

“I’ve always wanted you.”

The buzzing was back but this time it was debilitating. Especially when he faced her and cupped his free hand along her jaw. And especially when he tilted her head back slightly to meet his lips, which had pretty good aim given their predicament. She missed the way he felt, she realized, once he was kissing her. Once he had scooted closer and released his hand from her grip on his lap. Once he grabbed up the other side of her face and pulled her closer. And then her hand was left to fend for itself on his thigh, and she, almost unconsciously, drifted her touch closer and closer and closer…

He moaned softly into her mouth when she toyed with the flimsy piece of fabric tied around his waist with her fingertips. And finally, she pulled apart from him, catching her breath before whispering, “Do you think they’d notice if we left?”

He shook his head, “Don’t think I care if they did.”

And so they were off. Trying not to draw too much attention to themselves even though she slightly tripped over the leg of the chair and he tried not to giggle too loudly while helping her. His hand fell into hers again as he led the way out of the living room, down the hall and into Jason’s guest room, closing them both off from any light source completely, not that they really cared too much about seeing each other; they just wanted to feel each other again.

And as soon as Harry had closed the door behind her, that’s exactly what they did. As she wrapped her arms around his neck; as he felt his way around her waist, he kissed her like he hadn’t kissed anyone in years. Like he was a dry, cracking desert and she was a vast river flowing through him.

He took brave steps towards the bed blindly, backing her up further into the dark room and managing to not trip over anything when he finally made it to the bed. They’d both, on separate occasions, spent the night in Jason’s guest room before, which helped when maneuvering around in the dark. For instance, Harry knew that Jason kept his secret stash of condoms in the bedside drawer. Harry had no idea why, but he was thankful for it right now, when, after laying her back on the bed, Y/N had already begun undoing his costume—with such quickness, he was sure she’d studied how the thing was connected to his body so that she knew exactly how to get if off if need be—and, within the next few seconds, tossed the flimsy Tarzan loincloth out of sight.

Which left him in just the black thong he wore underneath. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have even bothered with it. But, when he had first gotten the costume and tried it on without anything, he imagined all the wardrobe slips and potential boners might not be in everyone’s best interests. So, he went out and bought the smallest pair of underwear he’d ever owned, tucked himself inside of them, and called it a day.

Those, too, were stripped from his body in a matter of seconds, or at least pushed down his thighs to where they no longer covered what they were intended to cover. But then she flipped them around, so that Harry was on his back this time, splayed across the bed and she was finally ridding him of the thong all together and not wasting any time getting her hands on him and he wondered, with how quick she was to get to this point, if she had been thinking about this all night. And if she had, then he would definitely have to whip out the Tarzan costume more often.

He seemed to sink into the mattress once he felt her mouth close on him, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth hanging open involuntarily when he hit the back of her throat. He had no idea how he’d gone so long without her, or why either. Why had he been so stupid? Why did he let her think he didn’t want her? Why did he deprive the both of them of this? Of the way she felt circling her tongue around the tip of his cock, the way he knew she was looking at him even though he could physically not open his eyes or come down off his cloud long enough to tell her how good she felt. How much he missed it. How much he was probably in love with her, even if that might have been crossing some sort of line.

“Forgot how big you were,” she whispered, giggling almost shamefully after wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and giving him a break to actually breathe properly again.

“Think we both know that’s a lie.” He was out of breath already and he was right, although she wouldn’t feed his ego no matter what he said. Although she remembered his cock perfectly fine, she wasn’t exactly used to it. And maybe she had momentarily forgotten what he had hidden under his costume. It’d been two years since they slept together, and the first time it happened they’d been drunk.

She didn’t say anything else, just tried to hide the blush on her face—even though he couldn’t’ see it anyway—by taking a mouthful of him again. She didn’t let him come, though, of course, and he didn’t expect her to either. She never had before. She always led him get right to the edge, to where he was panting and writhing and digging his fingers into her hair, on the verge of screaming her name into the dark, and then she’d stop. Pull him from the back of her throat and leave him a sopping, moaning mess.

He’d somewhat recovered when she crawled on top of him and and sat on either side of his hips with her hands planted on his chest. And now that their eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could see the curve of his lips as he smiled up at her and even the sinister little twist of his mouth just before he grabbed hold of the hem of her dress and ripped it off over her head, letting it fall onto the bed next to him. He wished they had just a little bit more light, but at the same time, it turned him on having to see with his hands instead. Having to reach up and cup her breasts in his palms and rely on his memories for a better visual than the one he currently had. And as she came down to kiss him again, there was one thing for sure he didn’t need any light or anything but his fingers to do.

He tossed her bra into the same vicinity as her dress and within seconds had his hands all over her again, and his tongue as well, wishing she was on her back so he could worship her in all the ways he desperately wanted to, but also aware that the power could flick on at any moment and he really didn’t have the time.

Not that she had asked, and maybe she just hadn’t thought of it yet, but he still, while continuing to make out with her, reached over, pulled the drawer open on the nightstand and reached inside to locate the box of condoms.

However, once he did, and he didn’t find what he was looking for, he sat up and pulled apart from her, twisting himself a bit in order to see inside the drawer. His other hand held onto her hips so she didn’t fall off of him as he searched the drawer. But, soon enough, he was laying back again, groaning as if he was in physical pain.

“There’s no condoms.” He muttered between his teeth and just that one little sentence ruined his entire night.

“It’s okay.” She assured, continuing to whisper just as he did so that no one would hear them through the thin walls. “I mean… we’re clean right? And I’m on birth control…”

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking up at her and trying to decide if it was a good idea or not. She was right, of course, but even so there was always a possibility. Even with condoms there was always that same possibility too. He knew one thing for certain. If he remembered correctly. There was absolutely no way in hell he’d be able to pull out, so that really wouldn’t even be an option either.

“If you don’t want to though, that’s fine.” She spoke again amongst his silence. It’s not like he would hate the potential consequences, and of course he would not hate feeling her without a stitch of anything in between them, he just needed to be reassured that’s what she wanted, truly.

“I do, just um… are you sure you’re okay with that?”

She nodded first and then, confidently, “Yes.” As she fell back into place over him, her lips came to his ear this time, “I want to feel you coming inside of me.”

His whole body shuddered, needing her more than he quite possibly ever had. And as she tucked her panties to the side and guided herself onto him, he would most definitely go outside and cut the lines himself if the power decided to come back on before they were finished.

“Forgot how wet you are…” He whispered, heart fluttering at the way she laughed while fucking him. He never forgot either, not quite. But feeling her again now, pooling around him, warm and snug, he again wondered why in the living hell he kept himself from her for so long. Sure, they didn’t like each other most of the time, but their first time together had been hot, drunk hate sex and ever since then he’d chased that feeling with other people, none of them ever quite adding up to her. He wondered if she thought the same. No one ever making her feel the way he did either. If, when she was with someone else, she thought of him instead.

He knew he wouldn’t last long the second she put her greedy hands on him, and so her being in control now was slightly dangerous. He wasn’t ready for it to be over, even if he was racing the clock, even if he could just take her home from here and do it all over again, properly. He didn’t want it to end as quickly as it started.

So, he flipped them back over, getting her on her back like he’d wanted to earlier. Slipping a pillow under her backside to get a better angle and letting her sink all the way through the mattress this time. He remained inside her the entire time, only making quick, shallow movements to avoid the sounds of their skin slapping against each other. But he gave up being careful about their noise level after she begged him to go faster, after he reached between them and rubbed his fingers over her clit to catch her up with him.

She tugged at his hair while he kissed her, breathlessly and without much of a second thought this time about how loud they were being. He assumed all their friends knew about them anyway, even if she chose to be ignorant to it. They all speculated about the secret hookups and the mindless flirting that was disguised as harmless bickering. So, he just stopped caring the closer and closer he got.

That was until he buried himself as far as he could inside of her, his hand wrapped around her throat the way he remembered her liking, and he felt the scream building beneath her skin, beneath his palm. Quickly, before her noises led to everyone barreling into the room to find out what was going on, he clasped his hand from her throat to her mouth instead. Holding tightly as she let it out, his eyes pouring into hers like a lake of shining emerald waters getting her to stay there in the room with him. So that she didn’t close her eyes and float away like he had before.

He titled her head to the side, kissed up her jaw to her ear. “Mm, I missed the way you sound.” He wanted to tell her how he thought about her pleads and her moans and her yells late at night when he was feeling particularly alone. When he wanted nothing but her, to either be inside of her, or to just have her there next to him. But all of that got caught in his throat, and instead, as he continued burying himself into her, he whispered like a growl in her ear, “Missed how well you take me.”

And although it made her moan, made her eyes cross and her fingernails scrape across his shoulder blades, he wanted to tell her that he missed how they fit together. How where he ended she began so seamlessly no one else could hardly compare. There had always been a seam with everyone else, with Liv, a visible divide between him and them, soldered together haphazardly. But with Y/N, it was smooth, flowing together as if they were the same person.

His hand slipped from her mouth as he began losing control, and soon she was the one having to cover the noises. Though, this time, she just simply pulled his lips to her own and felt all the vibrations escape from his throat against her skin, her teeth, her tongue. She breathed in nothing but the air from his lungs, and held onto his tightly as she began to unravel.

His moans quickened and quickened until she felt his release, warm and deep inside of her, just as her own gave way, until his body began to give out, until he was panting and no longer able to hold himself up over her. And so once they both descended from their cloud, once their wave had crashed onto the shore, he planted himself beside her, their chests in rhythm as they cough their breath.

And before either of them even managed to open their eyes or breathe steadily again, the surge of the power coming back on dimmed the haze. Their room was still dark, but light seeped under the door and the rest of their friends cheered from the other room as the music began again. And for a brief, stupid moment, Harry thought about fucking her again and letting her scream all she wanted, but that fantasy was cut short when he remembered their friends would soon realize they were missing.

“We should get back.” She mumbled. Although she made no sudden movements to get up. She even closed her eyes again, still off in another world.

And so Harry risked it, just for a few more moments, anyway, where he rolled closer to her and slid his hand up her jaw softly, pulling her attention toward him again as her eyes fluttered open, waiting.

“I was miserable when I was with Liv too. And we broke up because she knew I spent all my time thinking about someone else.” He swiped his thumb across her cheek, realizing for the first time that he’d probably royally fucked up all her makeup and then hoping she wouldn’t come to her senses and kill him for it.

“And who might that be?”

He smiled, sweetly this time unlike all his asshole smiles, and just as he glanced at her lips, ready to kiss her again, he was cut short.

“Yo, where are Harry and Y/N?” It was Jason, loud and clear and possibly headed their way to investigate his missing party guests who had snuck off together in the dark. Jason didn’t know that yet though, and as much as Harry would like none of their friends to find out, it wouldn’t exactly look great the two of them waltzing out of the guest room together. Harry’s curls in shambles, fresh scratches all across his back, and Y/N’s makeup smudged. There was simply no use in hiding what they’d been up to, it was written all over them.

Harry grabbed her clothes and handed them off while he went on a search for his own tiny pieces of costume. And just as they got decent again, there was a knock on the door.

“You guys in there? You better not be doing what I think you’re doing.” Jason warned and Harry and Y/n looked at each other for a moment before busting out laughing.

Harry got to the door first, throwing it open to a very surprised Jason, who then narrowed his eyes when he saw Y/N come up behind Harry.

“God, not in my guest room!” He whined as Harry pushed pass Jason, a looking Y/N following shortly behind, “Now I have to clean the sheets again! I just did them yesterday.”

“Sorry, mate!” Harry called over his shoulder, glancing down at Y/N quickly to give her one of his cocky little winks. And once they had reached the main room again, as he fell back into his chair, she realized just how many scratch marks she’d left on him, and wished he’d worn a costume with a shirt to cover it up.

She drowned out all the whistling and the comments about how everyone knew she and Harry were up to something, about the bets won and lost. All she heard was Harry’s voice in her ear, telling her how much he missed her and she wondered if it was real. If he really did miss her, or he just missed fucking her. If, when it was no longer October 31st, they’d just go back to normal. Like the horse-drawn carriage turning back into a lumpy, ugly pumpkin.

Harry noticed this, of course, because he’s a law student and notices everything, but just as he leaned in to ask if she was okay, she pulled away.

“I just, uh, need some air.” And then she was gone before he could do or say anything. She used through the front door, abandoning their poor pumpkin and headed toward her car. She’d left the keys and her purse inside, but it didn’t matter. She just leaned against the passenger door and gazed up at the stars, thankful for the clear night and warm weather.

And, of course, he was beside her not too long afterwards. She’d heard his footsteps against the pavement, knew he’d probably follow her out anyway.

He cleared his throat, half watching the same stars she was and half glancing at her. “Did I do something?”

“No, it’s um…” she faltered, her eyes falling to her feet. “Think I just had too much to drink.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I—” she cut him off before he got too far in the wrong direction.

“No, I mean…” she pushed off her car then and faced him, “Are we just going to go back to how we always are after tonight? Because I don’t know if I can do that. But I never know what you’re thinking, Harry. Do you even like me or do you just like sleeping with me sometimes and arguing with me all the rest of the time?”

He continued to watch her for a moment, almost waiting for her to tell him she was kidding. But when she just ran a nervous hand through her colored hair, he realized she wasn’t.

He waited for a group of kids all dressed in various Star Wars outfits to pass by them before he began. “I guess I thought I was clear, but obviously not enough… I don’t just want to sleep with you every couple of years and pretend we don’t like each other in between. I think we’ve already wasted enough time, don’t you?”

She nodded once his words sunk in.

“Can we go finish our pumpkin now? And win the stupid skeleton. So I can take both it and you home with me?”

Again, she nodded, but this time it was matched with a smile. “Who says I want to go home with you?”

He rolled his eyes and threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close enough to kiss the top of her head as he steered them back toward the front door. “Guess it’ll just be me and the skeleton then.”

They both glanced over at the giant thing stuck in the middle of Jason’s front yard, still attracting every young person like it was a princess at Disneyland, and then she looked up at him again. “On second thought, I might like to see that.”

He shook his head, opening the front door for them, “M’sure you would.”

#sorry if there are spelling or grammar errors #im just glad to have written something tbh #but yeah let me know what you think! and i hope you all have a great halloween and that you're staying safe!#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing

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