Trick or Treat; Take Your Pick!
(A BTS choose your ending fic~)
A/N: Hello~! I’m back at it again with one of my outrageous fanfiction ideas! xD This time it’s a choose your adventure fic! Therefore, a fic that has 7 different paths/endings! :D The fun part is that I’m not dropping many hints as to who is who~ hehehe~ So, that being said–let’s get into it!
“I can’t believe you dragged me here, you pixie bitch,” you snarl at your friend, hating the way her glitter covered face stretches into a brilliant smile—her strap-on wings bouncing on her back with every step. In the distance—only a short ways away now—you see and hear your destination—a frat house with blaring music and the most half-assed Halloween decorations you’ve ever seen.
Biting your bottom lip—the cold air brushing over your barely covered skin—you hug your arms tightly and nearly punch your friend when she whistles.
“Wooo~! Look at that cleavage!”
Skipping in front of you, she reaches her hands out and gropes your breasts, pushing them up more than they already are. You immediately move to kick her away, but she knows you too well and is out of kicking distance before you can blink.
“I will bite you,” you tell her, and she winks, lifting up her already short tinker bell dress to reveal her thong-clad hip.
“Do it baby I’m ready~”
You roll your eyes, pushing past her. Your black heels click against the pavement hurriedly. You don’t even care that you didn’t really want to come to this party anymore—all you know is that it’s too cold out to keep standing here like a fool, so you make for the door—no matter how many drunk, horny college students are inside.
“How many shots have you had already?” you scoff when your friend runs up beside you, wobbling even though she’s only wearing a pair of white flats. She shrugs nonchalantly.
You scoff. “Right, well, I’ll expect to see you back at our apartment some time tomorrow—alive.”
“Same to you~,” she grins cheekily, and you roll your eyes. She’s the one here to get laid. You’re here because she’d refused to let you stay home alone on Halloween—cuddled up in a blanket and watching shitty movie reruns. Apparently it wasn’t “fun enough”—so she’d dug out her old costume from last year and shoved you into it despite your complaints of ‘it’s so short!’, ‘there’s no way this is my size!’ and ‘don’t you have a different, less revealing costume?!’
So…here you are. Freezing your ass off and wearing nothing more than the sexy maid outfit she had forced you to wear. You had honestly wanted to kill her when she had presented it to you.
“I even have a garter belt for the thigh highs!” she had yelled, and in response you had groaned, tugging on the hem of the skirt and wishing that it’d magically lengthen—just an inch or two. If you happened to bend down in this state everyone around would get an eyeful of your panties (which, smartly, you had decided to change into pure black ones before leaving).
As you push open the front door—the lace on your thigh-highs subtly rubbing together—you get an eyeful of the party laid out before you. There are girls in guys in every direction—some chatting politely and some about ready to fuck where they stand.
“C’mon!” your friend says, tugging you inside when you get distracted by a male dressed as Yu-gi-oh.
And so, the door to the house closes behind you, and you’re trapped.
“Try to have fun!” you friend tells you, turning and grabbing your hands. Grinning giddily, she jumps up and hugs you tightly before patting your ass and scurrying off to find the alcohol and catch herself a man for the remainder of the night. Watching her go, you simply sigh and head for the punch bowl—figuring that if you’re going to spend your night here getting crushed within a throng of people than you should at least have some alcohol in your system to make it a little more tolerable.
Grabbing one of the large solo cups, you press your back against the wall behind you and survey the crowd. Immediately you feel several pairs of eyes on you, and you glance down at your outfit to make sure that you’re not flashing anyone before you subtly begin to search for those who have set their sights on you.
The first male you discover is near the staircase—his styled hair covered by a droopy pirate hat. Across his left eye is a black eyepatch, and adorning the rest of his body are worn out, torn clothing. When you meet his stare he doesn’t look away, simply holds your gaze with his one showing eye, cracks a little smirk, and waggles his brows at you before looking away.
The next male you spot is…a hotdog. Plain and simple. It’s a boy wearing a hotdog suit—his hair swept neatly to the side despite his childish choice of costume. At seeing he has your attention, he bites his bottom lip and then slowly glances away—but you catch him looking at you again a few seconds later, and when he sees that you’re still staring at him, his lips quirk.
The third male you spot is…more normal. He’s dressed as a…working class man—fitted black slacks, a button down shirt with the top buttons popped and tie hanging loosely around his neck. A sexy professor, you decide to dub him. Gently pushing up the pair of glasses on his nose, he scans your body up and down before meeting your gaze. And then—tongue poking out to barely wet his lips—he turns away.
Male number four is…a white sheet. A hastily made ghost, from the looks of it. The eyeholes are rigid and unevenly sized, but even so you can see the dark eyes peering at you from inside. Your stares meet and he doesn’t waver. However, after a few seconds the ghost’s shoulders shake with laughter and he winks before disappearing further into the crowd.
The next person you find looking your way is a male in a toga. An easy costume, but he pulls it off well—his hair parted and revealing his forehead. Atop his head is a small gold halo, and he meets your gaze while moving to readjust the piece. Immediately, he smiles. His eyes crease happily, and then he raises his eyebrows teasingly—breaking the eye contact when someone calls for him.
Surprisingly, yet another male is looking at you—this time one wearing a Scream costume. Dressed in a black cloak and the classic white mask, at first you’re not sure if he’s truly staring at you—unable to see his eyes beneath the mask, but after a minute you’re positive that he is. Lifting his hand, he does the classic ‘I’m watching you’ move before finally looking away.
Lastly—how did you even manage to catch the attention of this many people (you blame it on the outrageously scandalous costume)—you find a devil looking at you. Red t-shirt, dark jeans, fake horns and fake tail. He meets your stare and immediately becomes tentative, but he doesn’t shy away. Instead he casually looks you over and then smiles, winks, and turns back to what he was doing.
Still leaned against the wall—the drink in your hand now empty and the music from the nearby speakers deafening your ears—you debate what to do. You know you hadn’t come here to find someone to hook up with, but…why not let loose, right? Just this once. Just have fun and go with the flow.
But…who to go to?
The pirate? The ghost? The hotdog? Honestly, they’re all tempting, you won’t lie.
Finally, sighing, you throw your cup into the nearby trash, push off the wall, and with confidence stride towards the—