Hi! I'm just gonna preface this by saying that, originally, I was going to skip the Halloween story for the first time since 2018 (!) but, I couldn't help myself. I got hit with an idea and I decided to just... go for it. Because why not? Now, I usually make these stories one-shots, but this year I'm doing things a little differently...

So! Before we begin, do us both a favour: search the term "Pew Pew Women's Hipster Underwear" and take a look at the very first result. Trust me, it's important. Also, I'm gonna throw in a super mild TW for self-harm here.

Onward~!

The previous year's Halloween in Southtown had been pretty much non-existent. Thanks to the global pandemic, haunted houses, pumpkin patches, and historical tours had all been shut down. Restaurants, nightclubs, and bars were closed, and people didn't dare send their kids out to trick-or-treat. It bordered on brutal for the woman called King, as Halloween had always been her favourite holiday, and not being able to celebrate it in any capacity had flat-out sucked. But, now, a full year later, things looked much different. While many places were still operating with altered hours or mask requirements (her bar being one of them), larger gatherings were finally becoming possible again.

Enter Kyokugen instructor, fighter, and millionaire playboy Robert Garcia, who was to throw a celebratory costume party the night before Halloween at one of his family's massive properties just outside of the city. Although King still had doubts about large get-togethers, she decided — with the input of her friends, of course — that she would make a guest appearance at the shindig. However, that decision had been very last-minute, and though she had a simple "costume" leftover from the previous year, her best friend and fellow fighter, Mary Ryan, decided that she needed something a little more creative and flattering. King, however, did not think the idea was creative (she had done this for one of Robert's Halloween parties in the past), nor did she think it was flattering — for her, anyway. Nevertheless, she stood in her living room, frowning, while Mary, who had brought her the ensemble, looked on with eager eyes.

"We both know this isn't going to fit me," the bartender stated as she held a red and white, ribbed halter top up in front of her.
"It should be fine," Mary said with a nonchalant wave of her hand. "I mean… you're chesty enough; the size difference between us isn't that extreme."

King quirked a brow as she looked from Mary's D-cup breasts to her C's.

"Need I remind you that you're an entire cup-size bigger?"
"Pffft, whatever, no one's gonna be paying attention to those," Mary said while crossing the room. "They'll be paying attention to this." With that, she poked King's midsection with her index finger, eliciting an involuntary giggle.

"Stop that!"

Mary snickered before going back to the armchair near the corner, where a silky, long-sleeved white gown, a large, wide-brimmed black hat, black leather gloves, and a few shopping bags were casually strewn about.

"I wonder if this is gonna be too long?" She wondered out loud while examining the dress.
"We can always switch," King replied. Although she had very mixed feelings about wearing skirts and dresses these days, she still held on to the tiniest hope that Mary would say yes to the idea.

"Yeah, but then I'd be going to this thing as myself. That's no fun."
"I have fake blood and some other makeup in the cabinet. You could be… I don't know… a zombie version of yourself."
"Okay, well yeah, but zombies are so passé."
"True."
"So, you gonna put that on or?" Mary probed while gesturing to the top that was still in King's hands. "Because we're going for fashionably late, not fashionably too late because Céc had doubts about her boobs."
"Riiiiiight..."

King drew the word out while setting the mostly crimson fabric down so she could remove her old baseball shirt, exposing her lean, muscular arms and abdomen. She took a moment to adjust her bra, which was dark green and lacy, before reaching for the halter, but Mary suddenly appeared right beside her and smacked her hand. A loud hiss accompanied the swift strike.

"Ow! What the hell?!" King exclaimed, more startled than anything else.
"It's a backless top, bb! Not only that, but the lace on that will make it look all lumpy in the front!"
"I don't care if it looks lumpy! Besides, I'm going to need the extra support…!"

Mary gave King a pointed look as she placed a hand on her hip.

"Bra off."
"But —"
"Off with it!"

King blew out a deep breath.

"Alright, alright," she grumbled while turning her back. She unclasped her bra and tossed it on the sofa in front of her before picking up Mary's halter once more. She then clumsily pulled it on and grimaced; the tight elastic band hugged just under her breasts which — as she suspected — weren't large enough to fill the clothing out. She about-faced while pinching the slightly baggy fabric.

"Don't make that face, it's fine," Mary laughed as she shrugged out of her shoulder holster.

"Easy for you to say," King replied as she continued to try to tailor the clothing to fit her bust a little better. She pressed her lips together, then turned her attention to her stomach and asked, "Do you think I should contour my arms or abs?"

Mary laughed.

"Why would you need to do that?!"
"Do you really have to ask?"
"Oh, come on —" the cop peeled off her form-fitting shirt, revealing her broad, muscular shoulders and arms, and incredibly ripped abs — "You're acting like you're built like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man but you're more jacked than you think you are."
"Maybe so, but you practically have an eight-pack."
"Jealous?"
"No."
"Oh? Why not?" Mary inquired.
"Because it wouldn't suit me," King reasoned. "It suits you, though. I can't imagine you without those arms or abs, even if I tried."
"What about the tits?"

At that, King let out a dry chuckle and shook her head.

"You've had those for so long now that I barely remember what you looked like before you got them."
"That's probably for the best," Mary laughed as she slipped out of her jeans. King opened her mouth to respond but, instead, found herself focusing on the scars that covered Mary's pale thighs. Although she had seen the marks countless times over the years, her heart still broke every time she laid eyes on them. She counted each visible line in her head, thankful that no new ones had appeared in the time since her last count (whenever that had been now), and then set her sights on the blue cargo capris that rested not too far from her discarded bra. She swiftly removed her cotton house shorts and was almost instantly met with a loud snicker.

"Okay, but what the hell are those?!" Mary, who had taken a pair of brand-new nylons from one of the shopping bags, chortled as she gestured toward King's underwear.
"Cats."
"With… star-shaped lasers coming out of their eyes?!"
"Correct."
"So do I make the obligatory pussy joke now or later?"
"Later, since I know you haven't even thought of it yet."
"Okay, yeah, you're right," Mary laughed, "I got nothin'. I guess they're cute, though."
"Thanks."

King then pressed her lips together and glanced down at the pants.

"I don't know if these are going to fit," she remarked while stretching the attire a little.
"Why not? The band's elastic."
"Well, yes, but —" King began to put the garment on — "my hips are —"
"Okay so, you're packing some serious cake or whatever, but they stretch, remember?"

Doubtful, King carefully pulled the capris up; so far, so good…

"See?" Mary said as she ripped her pantyhose out of their packaging. "Nothing to worry about."
"Think… again," King grunted as the fabric hitched at the midway point between her thighs and hips. She gritted her teeth as she tried to pull the pants up to no avail.

"I'm just going to have to use a pair of my own jeans," she told Mary after struggling for a moment.

At that, the officer silently set her tights down, walked over to King, grabbed the stuck fabric, and — somehow — tugged it over the bartender's thick thighs, eliciting a strangled noise from her.

"Sometimes you just need a little elbow grease," Mary chuckled while King adjusted the elastic, which stopped about half an inch below her belly button and barely covered the lace-trimmed waistband of her hipster panties.
"These are obviously too small," she stated while gingerly moving around. "I have no idea how I'm supposed to even exist while I'm wearing them."
"They're not that tight, are they?"

King answered by doing a few basic stretches. Immediately she had to readjust herself, as the movements had given her a wedgie.

"Oh, come on. They're fiiiiiiiiiiine," Mary said as she took off her socks. She then slipped on her nylons, grabbed the dress from the chair, and carefully put it on.

"How does this look? Do I look dumb?" She questioned as she pinned a huge corsage made up of big black flowers onto the left side of her chest.
"Of course not," King replied with a chuckle. "You do look a little weird, though."
"'Weird?' Why weird?"
"Because I haven't seen you in a skirt, let alone a full-on dress, in… what? Two years? Three?"
"Yes."
"To which one?"
"Yes."

The two friends fell quiet as they each continued to get ready, applying makeup, gathering additional pieces of their outfits, and commenting on one another's appearance as they went. Finally, after fifteen more minutes of preparation, King and Mary stood together in the middle of the living room, fully costumed and grinning at one another.

"Who gave you permission to be so hot, you sexy minx?!" Mary exclaimed.
"Me?! Look at you! You are taking. my breath. away, Lady Mary!"
"Well, our ride is about to be here. Should we wait down in the lobby? You can catch your breath in the elevator."
"Yeah, probably a good idea," King replied. She stowed her wallet and phone in the large side pockets of her borrowed pants before grabbing her keys.

"Hey, do you think Garcia is gonna vomit in the jacuzzi again?" Mary inquired while she gathered her own wallet and phone.
"If he does, I hope to be far, far away," King responded.

Snickering, the pair left the apartment and made their way to the elevator down the hall, eager to see where the night would take them.

Alright, guys! It has begun! As always, let's unpack a couple of things:

* There was a Halloween short that I wrote a while back that I never fleshed out in which Mary and King attend a Halloween party at Robert's dressed up as each other. There's lots of drinking, and Robert pukes in the jacuzzi. So that's what the ladies are referencing at different points during their conversation.
* Céc. Cécile. King. Not canon but totally should be. Who wants to go bother KK and SNK on the bird app on my behalf?
* Mary has breast implants. See the fic, Upsizing for more on that.
* In case you didn't get it, Mary's costume is Lady Dimitrescu from Resident Evil 8. Special thanks to Twitter user Phons0 for the idea~
* Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man: Ghostbusters, yo.
* Yes, the talk about Mary's physique got kinda meta thanks to KOF Twitter being a bunch of prats, but I had actually started writing this convo before all of that rubbish discourse.
* Going further in regards to Mary's body here, she struggled with self-harm after her father and Butch died, cutting her thighs so she could keep it on the down-low.
* Did you search what I told you to search before getting started? No? Go do it then, so you know which weird underwear King ended up donning for the occasion.
* Yes, King wears weird underwear. Not all the time, of course, but every now and then, if the mood strikes her she'll swap out traditional, monochrome hipsters for something a little quirkier, especially if she knows she's not getting busy.

Okay, so there you have it: chapter one is in the books! This story is probably going to update a bit on the quicker side of things, so be sure to come back next time, when things really start to get going! Leave a review if you're so inclined; I would super appreciate it and it would make my validation-craving, lizard brain very happy!

Cheers!