#and the car rides down the highway with the music all the way up and the windows all the way down

[evergreen-endo]

WE PLAY THE SAME KEYS AT DIFFERENT TIMES — r. kaji.

cw: 18+ mdni, f! reader, car sex, spit. wc: 0.8k a/n: unedited. thought about him on my drive home. enjoy. 

You and Kaji can’t ever just listen to music in the car together.

He really never intended for it to be like this at first— but once it happened the first time, it’s all he could think of the next time he got in his car. It’s the same every time; inviting you for a ride to listen to a tune that’s stuck in his head, one he claims he can’t get rid of until he hears it again. But with him, it can never just be one song. There are too many that make him think of you these days, despite his best efforts to press skip on those in particular. 

He drives around until night falls, and you’ve both shared everything you’ve had on repeat this week. As he pulls onto the highway, the low vibration of his car picking up speed thrums against your thighs, much like the guitar blaring through his speakers. The low light of the city falls on his hands as he steers with practiced motion, heel of his palm flat against the leather. Warm yellow light trails along the veins on his arms, dragging your gaze wherever it touches. It highlights the rim of his features for a split second, long enough to see the way he side eyes you.

He lets out a huff, leaning back against the headrest to hide in the dark, though it’s futile. As he whirrs past the overheads, the light guides your gaze to his thighs, spread lazily even with one foot on the gas, and up, up, up to…oh. It’s only a second that you see it before light rushes past, and you wait on the next street light to illuminate him. It takes its time, stretching slowly over the same path, fingertips to forearms to biceps. A flit of your eyes down, and the car leers onto the exit ramp, light changing its course and missing the bulge of his cock entirely. 

The both of you huff for different reasons, you in disappointment, and him in relief. Not that you can hear each other over the music, anyway.

You spend the rest of the ride bopping your head along and picking up your phone to add songs you like to your own playlist. He’s grateful that there aren’t as many street lamps on the route to your place, so you miss the poorly hidden smirk that plays on his lips. 

Pulling into your driveway, he thumbs at his wheel to turn the music down just as that one song comes on. The one you fucked to the first time he did this; the reason he keeps inviting you to do this. He pauses, sighing, and turns it back up again. You tense, thighs crossing as you hear the click of his seatbelt and squeak of the leather as he reaches over to click yours, too.

Kaji’s breath always comes out ragged— grits his teeth and hisses through them even as his chest heaves for more oxygen. He’s got you bouncing on his cock in his backseat, guiding you to some extent, rough grip on your hips because he really can’t find it in himself to be gentle. Not when you move so perfectly you hit every goddamn beat. 

You’re the perfect melody to him— he has half a mind to lean forward and turn the music down in favor of the sound of you. Ass clapping against his thighs, wet squelching from between yours, breathy moans and gasps and keens. He wishes he could isolate every salacious layer of sound— to savor it, ingrain it into his memory to replay over and over.

The beat of the song slows, just before he knows it’ll build up again. He takes the break to wrap an arm around your waist, effectively slowing the motion of your hips. You whine as he forces you to grind your clit against him, and he hums, captivated.

Using his free hand, he twirls his fingers through your hair, wrapping the strands around to get enough hold to pull you forward, the abruptness ripping a gasp from you. Perfect. Twisting his lips up, he tilts his head forward, letting a glob of spit travel past his lips and drip down onto your awaiting tongue as he plants his feet firm on the ground. With all the leverage in the world, he bucks his hips up into you as the beat picks up again, the heavy weight of his thrusts knocking the air from your lungs. 

It gets hard to move when you squeeze around him, ticks him off that you’re slowing down his rhythm. He just wants to give you what you deserve and you’re always holding him back with that fucking grip of yours. At least, he thinks, you’re giving him a chance to readjust his hips, so he can hit that spongey spot inside you until the song closes out, until all that’s left is the sound of your shared panting.

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

looking forward to summer sm. I just know I'm gonna be okay again. that life's gonna be okay again.

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, fem! reader, smut, blowjob, fingering, proofread but I’m dyslexic so may be mistakes

Omg omg omg imagine being König’s little passengers princess🩷🩷

König is undeniably a big man, so he obviously needs a big car. I think he owns a SUV - pretty and, most importantly, spacious car. It allows him to slouch comfortably in driver’s seat and not sit all crouched down like in most cars, his knees don’t bump in the panel beneath the steering wheel but placed comfortably as they should.

Needless to say that his car is filled with your stuff: numerous lipglosses in the glove compartment, your scarves and shawls laying on the panel behind backseats, small pillow along with fluffy blanket are always in the backseat in case you feel tired and want to lay down. König even found some of your jewelry in the cup holder once!

And he’s such a gentleman! You’re simply not allowed to open the door by yourself! Why would you do that, if you have him?! König will always hold the door open for you, helping you get in and out of the seat, making sure that your dress or coat won’t get stuck clasped by the car door. He’s such a sweetheart, I can’t🥺

You often go for rides together. König is a neat and careful driver - he got his license when he was 18 and since then only got one fine for parking in wrong place. You go to different places - locations with beautiful landscapes not far from your place, going to visit his relatives in another city or just night rides around the Vienna. A lot of dear moments between you two happened in his car - your first kiss, numerous deep talks and countless make out sessions in the backseat which ended up with König absolutely fucking your brains out.

But sometimes long car rides can be hard for you. A few hours on the way, you start feeling uncomfortable. Your booty starts feeling sore from long sitting, lower back aching from awkward angle, feet swelling from lack of muscle movements. And you start whining. About how you’re tired, how sore your whole body is, that you need to use a restroom or that you’re hungry. König coos at your pouting face, glancing at you apologetically, right hand coming to your thigh to rub soothing circles on your soft skin to make you feel slightest bit better, promising to pull off at the next gas station.

König would do anything to soothe his whiny little princess. And if it means getting under her skirt in a middle of the ride and stuffing her pretty pussy full with his fingers - he’ll gladly do it. He’s never said that, but König loves loves loves fingering you while driving. Yes, it distracts him from the road, but the cute little sounds you make while your legs close around his wrist in overstimulation as he mercilessly keeps pumping two fingers in and out of that drooling cunny, thumb pressing tight circles against that needy clit.

During especially long rides, when you’re bored out of your mind and music on the radio makes you feel sick, you find a better way of busying yourself.

One of your nimble hands comes to rest on König’s meaty thing, rubbing strong muscle affectionately. He doesn’t pay much attention to that since you do it all the time, only smiling softly to himself at your touch. Slowly you make your way higher and higher, getting dangerously close to man’s crotch. “Y/n, I’m driving” König would always say in a strict voice, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he keeps his eyes trained on the road ahead. “Yeah, but it’s a highway, you just need to go straight” you discard his complains lightheartedly, already undoing the button and zipper of his jeans.

Soon your mouth is filled up with his throbbing cock, drool running down thick shaft to his balls and you suck and lick on sensitive length, paying extra attention to his leaking tip. König groans and moans above you, thrusting his hips up occasionally, making you choke and gag on his huge dick, tears running down your flushed cheeks. He rests one hand on the back of your head, guiding you gently up and down at the pace that he likes and holding you in place when he shoots a thick load of his cum down your throat so you swallow every single drop of it. And make sure to clean him up with that filthy little mouth after that, he’s driving, after all!

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writers feedback, we live for that<3

[chiscaralight]

Stealing Society

crack pipes, needles, PCP, and fast cars kinda mix really well, and a dead movie star!

includes: nsfw! illegal street racer!aventurine. use of the nickname ‘doll’ and ‘jewel’, car sex, fingering, public sex, slight exhibitionism, enjoy!

a/n: this was kinda inspired by Stealing Society by System of a down! i feel like the song fits the race theme somewhat. its one of my fav songs by them. i also just wanted to write abt fast cars and driving lololol.

street racer!aventurine is rich and young with alot of time on his hands. he's a thrill seeker, so what better way to while away his time than speeding down illegally blocked-off roads in the dead of the night with his competitors hot on his tail?

he's loved on the track! watchers chanting his name as he steps out of his sleek sports car to relish in his victory. they flock around him spewing words of praise and that's when he notices you. you're standing away but your eyes are locked on him all the same. the noises are loud, but the interest he's taken in you is louder. his steps are quick and calculated towards your frame. he's quick to introduce himself, but you already know who he is. so you tell him your name and he savors it on his tongue. the conversation is airy and fluid before he goes silent for a bit.

"how about we take a ride togther?"

the adrenaline pumping through your veins is unlike anything you've felt before. the wind nips at your face as he speeds down highways, weaving through tangles of cars and flying down lonely roads. he shifts one of his hands off the wheel to your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he lowly tells you to get ready. he's pushing down harder on the gas pedal. your laugh is like music to his ears as you reach speeds you know you never have. this is light work for him, but you're having the time of your life!

your entire body feels like jelly as he opens the car door for you. he takes your hand and walks you to the door of your house, how chivalrous. his lips lightly graze your knuckles, but not before telling you he'd be back for you tomorrow.

it goes on like this for weeks! picking you up at odd hours, sending expensive gifts to your doorstep. the nights he has raced, he's scanning the crowds for your face, sighing in relief as you wave wide. he flashes you a wink and settles into his seat. the win he's going to bring back tonight would be for you. just like he promised, he's ripping through the tape of the finish line with the nose of his car mere seconds before the first runner-up. you're already there as he steps out of the car, ready to receive the kiss he's planting on your lips.

it's daytime when he calls you. it's weird because you're used to spending the dark nights with him. his voice is warm as the two of you tease each other back and forth, but his next statement catches you off guard.

" i want you to ride with me during the race tonight."

your heart is pounding. youre in your rightful place in the passenger seat of the new car he bought just for the race. the engine is revving and you're both watching those lights that signify the start of the race. the red light flashes first, and he tells you to put on your seatbelt. you're buckling yourself in. the fact he's never asked you to do this before isn't helping your already strained nerves. amber. you notice his isn't on, so you ask why. his laugh is slightly encouraging, but the words that follow srent.

"i wont need it. but you will, doll."

you barely catch the green light as he's practically flying down the road. you feel like you're in a movie, music blaring through the car speakers as his knuckles grip the wheel tighter. you can't help the way you gasp his name because the pressure is sending you into the fabric of the seat. your eyes widen as you approach the turn but he shows no signs of slowing down. the jerk to the wheel is sharp and the drift is almost too perfect. the entire track is full of twists and turns but they pose no threat to the blonde man. you can hear the announcer call out his name once he pulls back into the hub. you can feel the blood pumping in your ears and almost miss when he asks if you're okay. the breath you finally let out is a relief, and he tells you it's time to exit the car. the sound of the screams of the crowd is much different down here from in the stands. It is overwhelming, but aventurines' loomin presence is quick to calm you down as he steps beside you.

the flag-girl comes over to hand him the trophy, but he just nods his head in your direction. she hands it to you and you raise it high in the air, jumping slightly as the crowd roars once again.

your fingers graze over the intricate carvings on the trophy. they definitely didn't cut corners with this, so you're covered in disbelief when he tells you that its yours.

"aven, i cant keep this.."

but he insists! he has dozens like that and he's sure that if you weren't here. you know he's bluffing. hed been winning big long before he met you, but you decided to let it go.

"i wouldn't mind a different type of prize, though."

thats why youre here, parked on some quiet road, mouth full with his cock. your front is pressed into the center console as you bob your head up and down his length. the drivers seat is slightly reclined as the driver himself throws his head back in a fit of pleasure. your lips are clamped around him perfectly, tongue flattening against the underside of his cock while he softly rolls his hips. his orgasm is crashing down, painting your throat with his release while his body relaxes into the seat once more.

aventurine’s feet are planted hard on the ground outside the car door. his knees are digging into the seat as he drills into you. anybody could drive by and catch the two of you in this position, but it only makes it more exciting. he's whispering sweet words to you as his tongue trails the shell of your ear. the way his name drips from your lips is so addicting, that he can listen to it all day. the way your nails dig into his upper arm signals your incoming orgasm, so he makes sure he can see your beautiful face. your eyes roll back into your skull as you cry out one final time. he's pressing his lips lightly against yours once more before sliding into the driver's seat to get you both back home.

you're out of the house the next time he texts.

some people from the track found a new road and want me to test it. wanna come with, doll?

of course, you don't say no, but you're slightly reconsidering coming along now. he has one hand on the wheel, with the other one rubbing slow, teasing circles against your clit. all your pleas for some kind of relief only fall on deaf ears. he hushes you, assuring you that he'll take such good care of you when you get back, but this is the third time he's looping the road! he keeps the same pace when he finally pushes a finger deep into you.

you're almost at your wits' end as he pulls into the hub area. he winds down his tinted window just a bit to converse with one of the officials there.

"-other than that it seems to be okay. well, my jewel here seems to be a bit under the weather, so we'll be going now."

and with that, he sped off towards his abode because he was almost sure that if he wasted any more time, you'd stop the car yourself to climb into the driver's seat and straddle him. not like he would complain anyway. but unlike the way he drives, he wants to take his sweet time with you, pulling you apart piece by piece before putting you back together again.

[halfrican-heat]

Backseat Driver (Ony)

Ony likes when you beg for a ride in his car.

A/N: Yes, I'm high. Hello. I am about to start posting these Onyankopon ideas I have in my head. This is the first one. Enjoy!

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content; Vaginal Fingering, AFAB! Reader (breasts mentioned), Oral Sex (F receiving), Cursing, AAVE/Dialogue with Dialect, Public Sex, Overstimulation, Choking, Minor Oral Fixation, Minor dacryphilia (crying kink), Explicit depiction of Sex (p in v); Not beta'd, barely proofread (will update as needed later)

Pairing: Onyankopon x Black!Reader

WC: 3k

“Ony, please!”

Your voice comes out breathless and high-pitched as another orgasm courses through you. Ony lifts his head from your drenched cunt, a Cheshire grin on his face. He slides two fingers inside your wetness with ease and chuckles at the way your walls clamp around his digits. 

His car is pulled off into a hidden spot on the side of the road— not easily seen from the highway. He has your bodycon dress bunched up to your waist, the top pulled down to expose your breasts as he finger-fucks you.

Ony takes in your tear-streaked face, the sight going straight to his dick.  

“What’s that, mama?” He teases. “I can’t understand you.”

You whimper as his fingers work in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace.

“You was talkin’ all that shit earlier. Distracting daddy from his business, right? Say somethin’ now.”

Your hand shoots to grip his bicep as the other goes for the car door behind you, nails scratching at it helplessly. 

“Daddy, please,” You whine, tears leaking from your eyes. “Let me ride. Need to feel you this time.”

He smirks, shaking his head. 

“I ain’t tryna hear that. Them pretty tears ain't gonna faze me, baby. Say you sorry to daddy for distracting him.”

His fingers shift position, finding that spot deep inside that makes you see stars. A guttural moan rips itself from your throat, sounding like music to Ony’s ears. His fingers work faster, rushing you toward another finish. 

“Wait, daddy! Wait- I’m sorry, daddy,” you cry, running from his punishing fingers

He yanks you back down using his free hand while his thumb starts to circle your overstimulated clit. 

“For what?” Ony demands, his voice low and sexy. 

“F-for distracting you on your business.”

His fingers stop moving entirely and you can’t decide what’s worse— the overstimulation or nothing happening at all. You clench around his fingers helplessly. 

Ony moves his free hand to your neck, forcing your head up so your dazed eyes meet his. 

“And?”

You take a shaky breath, licking your lips. Ony looks delectable, barely breaking a sweat as he tortures you within an inch of your life. His chain glints in the sunlight and the urge to pull into your mouth rolls through you. He tilts his head, looking at you expectantly. You swallow thickly. 

“For sayin’ I could find someone else to fuck me.”

His hand around your throat tightens slightly. His gaze is darker, more dangerous than before. 

“Why?”

You bite your lip, a soft moan escaping you. 

“‘Cause this pussy is yours, daddy.”

“You damn right,” He rasps, releasing your throat. 

You fall backwards slightly and watch with hooded eyes as his hands go to undo his belt. He frees himself from the confines of his jeans, pulling you over him like it’s nothing. His grip on your hips is tight as he holds you over his length, teasing your folds with his fat tip. 

The sound is lewd and wet as Ony gets himself ready for your creamy cunt. Then, without warning, he pulls you down on his length and grins widely at your scream as he impales you. 

Your head swims as you adjust to him, squeezing tightly around his cock. His jaw clenches as he watches your head loll back, overcome with pleasure. Ony grabs your jaw, pulling your head forward. 

Your gaze is unfocused as he slides his fingers in your mouth, rubbing them against your tongue. You taste your previous orgasms on his fingers. Your lips close around his digits, sucking without being told to. 

“That’s my baby,” Ony groans, barely containing himself. 

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, snaking his hand behind your head. He pulls you in for a nasty kiss, his tongue sliding in your mouth easily. He bites your bottom lip as you separate, his eyes lust blown. His free hand finds your ass cheek, smacking hard before squeezing.

“C’mon,” Ony says. “Ride your dick, mama.”

[almondamaretto]

omg hihi i love how u write sooo i wanted to ask if u could write where the reader tries getting matt jealous by flirting w chris (?? optional it could be anyone else) and he eventually gets jealous and that turns into a smut 😛😛 if that even makes sense 😭 PLSPLS thank you

Attention

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: y/n gets matt’s attention by flirting with chris

Warnings: weed, smut.

IM BACK (maybe) SO EXPECT MORE SHIT (hopefully) I LOVE YOU GUYS AND I WILL BE MORE ACTIVE I PROMISE (i don’t)

like halfway proof read

✄┈┈┈┈

Wind blew through her hair as she sped down the highway, one hand loosely holding the colorful steering wheel, the other holding a joint up to her pink, glossy lips. 

The glowing warmth of the orange sun hid behind the tall trees, golden rays painting her face as she sped down the street. 

Sza's "Julia" was blasting through her speakers as she pulled up to the triplet's house, music cutting off abruptly as she cut the ignition and exited the black jeep. 

She sucked in a final hit of her joint, snuffing out the half-smoked spliff against her car and tucking it behind her ear. 

With a final tug on her black miniskirt and one last readjustment of the straps of her thong, she strutted her way up to their front door, not bothering to knock. 

climbing up the stairs, the sight of Chris sitting on the couch, legs spread wide welcomed her. Matt was sitting a few feet to his right, scrolling on his phone. Everyone else was scattered around their living room, holding separate conversations as music played lowly in the background. 

"Ayy, y/n! c'mere" a very blasted Chris exclaimed, patting the plush material of the cream couch next to him. 

Matt's head shot up at the mention of her name, eyes fixating on her scantily dressed figure as she sat right next to Chris, leaving barely any space between the two of them. His brow quirked. 

"Hey Matt!" she said, looking at him up and down. His jeans sat low on his hips, his muscle tee riding up just enough to show off the band of his Calvin Klein boxers. 

He held up a peace sign, a silver ring wrapped around his pointer and pinky finger--he shot her a flirty smirk. 

She blinked at him slowly, expecting more of a greeting. 

Rolling her eyes, she brought her knees up on the couch, resting them against Chris and looking into his eyes. 

He started to ramble, sativa taking control of his senses. 

"Y'know we were all waiting for you to get here. Matt especially. He kept asking if his outfit was good enough--and his hair, he messed with his hair way too fucking much." 

Chris grabbed a small strand of her silky hair, toying with it absentmindedly as he spoke with a raspy voice, close enough for his warm breath to raise the hairs on her neck. 

"Yeah? Well he doesn't seem to be interested now." She giggled, brushing a lock of his hair out of his face. 

"Well, that's ‘cause he wants to seem all tough. Don't tell him I told you but he's just a big pussy." He said in a hushed tone, pulling a smile from her lips. 

Y/n couldn't deny Chris' charming and dorky personality--if she were anyone else, she was sure she would be chasing after him rather than sitting on his couch leading him on. 

Matt, however, could have her chasing for miles. Everything he did seemed so intentional and suave; he was always calm and collected--he felt like a refreshing soda after a day at the beach. 

Suddenly, Chris focused on the joint sitting behind her ear. 

He stopped tugging on her hair to slither his hand behind her neck, fingers brushing her skin and creating goosebumps. He grabbed the rolled paper between two fingers, looking at it with heavy eyes and a smile. 

"Thank you, weed gods" He cheered, searching for a lighter. 

Y/n reached into her bra, pulling out a bedazzled lighter. Chris placed the lipstick-stained paper in between his lips, gazing up at y/n with hot cheeks as she brought the lighter up to the end, igniting the paper. 

Matt watched the events unfold with a clenched jaw, losing the faint grasp on his buzz. 

Y/n breathed in a large puff, closing her eyes, and letting the burning in her throat subside. she turned and crawled over to matt, removing the joint from her flavored lips and handing it to matt. 

He took two deep hits, letting the intoxicating substance flow through his anticipating lungs and into his bloodstream. She sat on her knees and watched him intently as he visibly relaxed. 

Reaching up to grab the paper again, he grasped her wrist with a firm, yet gentle grip. They sat like that for a few beats before he stood up, dragging her with him. A large hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her to his side. 

He quickly passed the drug to Chris, who tried to conceal a knowing smirk, before pulling the teasing girl into his dimly lit room, shutting the door with their combined weight pressed against it. 

"Have fun!" Chris faintly yelled. 

The sunset lamp y/n bought for Matt projected an array of warm colors along the pair, the orange light kissing y/n's face, and ethereal and angelic aura surrounding her. 

The denim in matt's jeans became more restricting, he found himself itching to free himself from the confines of the blue material. 

She held eye contact with him, pouty lips parted slightly. 

No words were exchanged, but there was an understanding. Of their shared desire; their shared need. 

His slender fingers gripped the plush skin of her hip, tracing the black elastic band of her thong. His other hand traced up her side, barely caressing the skin and sending a tingling sensation to her spine. His hand caressed the side of her neck. 

Her fingers hooked into the two front loops of his light-wash jeans, searching for somewhere to place her earnest touch. 

“P Power” by Gunna echoed throughout the house, a nice touch from Chris, the designated aux. 

Both were breathing deeply, as if they had just finished a light jog. 

It happened in an instant--she squeezed her tan thighs together, his pinky finger dipped underneath the seam of her miniskirt, and their lips clashed together with feverish haste. 

They each fought for dominance like the push and pull of the ocean. Y/n wrapped her arms around Matt's craned neck as Matt pushed the two further into the door. 

Bringing his hand to the front of her neck, he squeezed the sides of her soft skin lightly--she gasped, tugging on the baby hair at the nape of matt's neck. 

He took control of the kiss with a low groan, applying more pressure to her neck, grinning into her lips as her head fell back. He took this opportunity to start working down her jawline and neck, biting small, aggravated marks into her silky skin. 

Their chests heaved, her hardened nipples poking through the sheer fabric of her shirt and against the rough material of his worn cotton shirt. 

"Oh, fuck." She said breathlessly as his teeth found the sensitive part of her neck, working a dark mark into the flesh. 

Once he was happy with his work, he pulled away from her touch completely, nearly pulling a needy whine from her throat. 

"Fuck, you're hot." He gaped, trailing his eyes up and down her flustered figure. Her hair was messy; eyes droopy, staring at him with need. A thin layer of sweat caused her skin to glow under the sultry lighting, her thighs pressed together and hands resting at her sides. 

A wave of confidence surged through her veins, a product of the drugs in her system. She pushed herself off the door, "you have such a way with words, Matthew," she breathed out, pressing her lips to his once again. 

He sat back on his bed, tilting his head up to meet hers as she climbed onto his lap, shaky legs straddling him.  

Her hands ran back and forth through his fluffy brown hair, pulling sporadically to rouse a reaction from him. 

His hands explored her thighs and hips, each time threatening to push her skirt farther up her skin. He gripped her hips once more, lifting her slightly to lay her down on the bed, lips never disconnecting. 

Wandering hands traced underneath the thin fabric of her blouse, caressing her chest and pinching her hardened nipples, kissing them through the sheer material. 

He continued his assault down her stomach, leaving a trail of wet, needy kisses. The tips of his fingers dipped under the top of her skirt, pulling them down slowly as he left closed-mouth kisses to her hips. 

Y/n’s thin excuse for a skirt was discarded somewhere on Matt's bedroom floor, along with his shirt. 

He hovered above her lower torso, ringed fingers toying with the thin black bands. Her manicured fingers shoved his forehead gently. "Don't be a tease, Matthew." 

He planted slow, teasing kisses to the fabric of her underwear, speaking with a smooth, deep voice in between each. 

"Such a hypocrite. How would you feel if I got with one of those girls out there, huh?" He finished his sentence by pressing one final kiss to her clothed clit, watching her shudder with a grin. 

"That's hardly what happened," she breathed out, sending a pointed look to him. "You know would never get with Chris. Just wanted your attention." 

He continued to kiss down her thighs whilst gently removing her soaked-through thong. 

"Hmm. And is all this for me?" He kissed her inner thigh, centimeters away from where she needed him the most. 

"Yes, god yes. Please Matt." 

"So sweet." He finally said and wrapped his arms around her stomach, pulling her legs over his shoulders. 

His mouth attached to her bundle of nerves, tracing small shapes with his tongue. His movements dragged a long whine from her lips, manicured nails reaching to grip his hair. 

He traced his tongue up and down her core, orchestrating her audacious sounds, needing more. 

He brought his middle and ring finger up, gathering her arousal and pushing his slender fingers into her warmth. The metal of his rings pressed against her skin sending chills over her skin. 

Her noises grew in frequency and amplitude, his other hand shooting up to her mouth to muffle the loudness while he repeatedly stroked her spongey walls. 

Matt could tell she was getting close, harshly sucking her clit while continuing to trace patterns with his tongue, fingers never losing their furious pace. 

Her moans grew louder and louder despite Matt's efforts to muffle them—though he didn’t really mind, anyone who was paying attention when they left already knew what was going on. 

He continued his ministrations even as her thighs threatened to close around his head and as her hips lifted off his silk cotton sheets with overstimulation. 

When the stimulation became too much, she pulled him away from her sensitive cunt. He was as equally out of breath as her, his eyes had become droopy like hers, and his boner pressed harshly against the denim of his jeans. 

He earnestly pressed his lips against hers again, kissing her harshly and sloppily, his hands quickly working on removing their remaining clothing. 

He quickly leaned over to his dresser and searched for a condom, y/n lifting herself to rest on her elbows, peppering his chest and neck with quick kisses. 

“You have all my attention now, doll.” He muttered quietly, almost to himself. 

He slowed down, rubbing his length up and down your cunt, gathering your wetness, watching as you practically drooled at the sight of him. 

“Is this what you want?” He used his other hand to caress your jaw sweetly. 

“More than anything, please Matt.” 

He slowly pressed his length into her, letting her fully adjust to her size before beginning to thrust, slow and gentle movements quickly becoming deep and harsh. 

His enthusiasm elicited loud moans from deep within her chest, hands looking for anywhere to anchor into, landing on his freckled back, leaving raised, stinging marks all over. 

In an instant she was flipped over, and her flushed face was pressed into a plush pillow. Matt continued to drill into her, quiet groans and curses falling from his lips every few seconds. 

“So fuckin’ loud. Want everyone to know what we’re doin’ in here? Huh? You want Chris to hear how good I’m fucking you?”  

She thought was strange thinking about Chris when his brother was fucking into her like this, but the thought didn’t maintain one Matt reached around to rub her clit, mind going completely blank other than thoughts of Matt. 

Once the familiar knot started to coil in her lower stomach, she reached back to grab Matt’s wrists for more stability, her legs starting to shake as her orgasm washed over her, tears beginning to soak his silk pillowcase. 

Strong hands gripped her hips harder as she clenched around him repeatedly, causing Matt to throw his head back in pleasure and let out a sharp breath. 

“Ah, shit. Fuck!” 

He fucked them both through their climaxes, slowing his staggering thrusts and finally pulling out of her pillowy walls. He threw his condom into his trash next to his bed, before leaning over and pressing sweet kisses to y/n’s back. 

“You did so good, sweetheart. So good for me.” he praised, running his hands up and down her sides and back. 

Once she regained her strength, she flipped herself over, heaving chest lifting up and down. Her shaky hands grabbed Matt’s arm and she pulled him down next to her, snuggling into his side. 

“I think you might’ve got a little jealous in there...” 

“Yeah, ya think?” 

[omgwhatchloe]

REASONS WHY HAVING SOME RDR2 CHARACTERS AS YOUR PASSENGER IN YOUR CAR SUCKS:

Charles: Only talks to points out every single animal he sees. Other than that, it’s just silence unless you start the conversation or you’re Arthur. Oh but trust me, he wants the AUX. He’s just not gunna ask.

John: Either demands the AUX cord or just connects it anyway, then proceeds to be musically inconsiderate with what he plays. You despise this song with every ounce of your being? Too bad. This song reminds you of your lowest point? Suck it up buttercup. This was playing in the car when you crashed and killed the person in the passenger seat? Womp womp.

Dutch: Seems to think it’s his car. In fact, he feels completely free to change the music, turns up the heat as much as he pleases, winds the windows up and down, moves his seat constantly etc etc.

Reverend Swanson and Mary-Beth: Car sick. So very car sick. Your two options when driving them anywhere is the sound of heavy breathing with the sounds of the highway being blasted in through the open window, or bags rustling with the sound of puking and groaning. Trust me, they’d rather have walked as well.

Javier: Awful navigator. It’s fine when you know where you’re going, but absolutely awful when you need navigation. Half the time, you look over and he’s gone off the navigation app and is playing subway surfers and texting. The other half of the time, he’s misreading the directions then yelling at YOU. Not to mention it’s completely unsurprising to wonder why you’ve been driving for so long then find he’s clicked on the entire wrong destination without a second thought.

Sean: Acts like he’s never eaten before in his life as soon as he gets into the car. Sees a Wendy’s? He’s suddenly starving. Burger King? He hasn’t eaten in three days. KFC? He’ll pay you back, he swears! In fact, the man has absolutely no problem being late for anything if you stop for food. You could be on the way to Davey’s funeral, already running late and suddenly pull into the Krispy Kreme carpark and you would not hear a single protest from him.

Micah: Yaps a whole lot of waffle about how he’s all this n all that to the point you don’t even know what he’s saying anymore and neither does he. Also enjoys flipping random people off and yelling shit out of the window. Expect to be chased by an angry driver for at least 12 miles.

Bill: Eats and then just throws his trash on the floor without a single second thought. If you ask him to pick it up, he will, but not without angrily grumbling and snatching it up. Is in a bad mood for about 2 minutes before he realises he wants to yap so does.

Karen, Uncle, Abigail and Sean: Distracts the driver. Whether it’s with yapping or loud videos or drinking or messing with the music volume, they somehow keep it up from the start of the drive right to the end.

Hosea: Puts his feet up and puts his seat back like he’s in bed. Just won’t sit normally. Will give you a ‘look’ when you ask him to put them down.

Lenny: Makes things awkward, because the first thing he does is comment on the dirtiness of your car then looks extremely shocked and uncomfortable at himself for saying that for about 7 seconds before pulling out his phone and facetiming Sean for the whole drive and giving you the same looks Hosea does when you try to speak to him. When not on the phone, he tends to respond with shrugs and “Okay then,” while folding him arms and staring out of the window. Seems to be in an awful mood until he’s out of the car. He hates car rides if it’s not with his favourite people.

Molly: Acts like you can’t drive. Struggling to see what’s right in front of you? Molly’s got your back! Seriously, she will yell at you to stop at the red light you had already seen 7 seconds ago and started to slow for. Old woman crossing (while you’re already stopped)? She will yell at you not to go so loud you debate kicking her out and making her get her own car, since she knows so much.

Tilly and Strauss: Tries to get you to speed. It’s like they’ve never heard of laws before, and will insist you ‘go faster’ even though your way is blocked by other cars. It’s painfully obvious they both can’t drive and have never had to pay for gas money.

Miss Grimshaw: Absolutely disgusted by your car and wants to make that very clear. It wouldn’t be surprising if halfway through, she started to clean it herself.

Jack: Really really really wants to press that horn. You’d find it cute at first, but so goddamn annoying when your car starts honking in the middle of a busy crossing. It’s like a constant slap-fight except you’re pushing his hands away every-time they come for the horn.

Arthur: Constantly asking to pull over. He’ll casually say “stop here” as if you’re a taxi, not to mention you’re in the middle of nowhere on the highway and you really don’t understand what a stranger mission means. Commonly, you have to explain things like how you’re already an hour late and you literally do not have the room to drive that family of five that’s broken down anywhere, nor can you stop at an empty warehouse and potentially get arrested for trespassing because he wants to explore.

Kieran: Terrified when you go slightly over the speed limit. He acts like he’s in an F1 race with no seatbelt being hung out of the window.

[puck-bunnies]

wild thoughts

nico hischier x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, oral sex (m receiving), roadhead, hair pulling

word count: 1.1k

with the devils winning their home game, the car ride home is one filled with curses and groans as my wild thoughts take over. hair being pulled and tears forming in eyes of pleasure.

the engine starts, the dark night sky shields the public eye of the inside of our car. his hand rests on my exposed thigh, my skirt giving little coverage of my silky legs. we pull out of the arenas parking lot, the wind adrenaline still pumping throughout nico’s veins.

pulling onto the highway my brain has an idea. “you did so good tonight baby.” i whisper to him. the soft radio plays in the background as his thumb rubs back and forth on my inner thigh.

“i’m just glad you were be able to be there.” nico smiles, keeping his head on the road with a tight grasp around the steering wheel. his grip on my thigh increases, surely going to leave a red handprint on my sensitive skin later.

my words are soft and slow, “i just wish there was a way i could congratulate you.” my hand ventures down my body, placing it on top of nico’s that palms my thigh. “right now.” i swear i can hear his breath hitch beside me, reading my thoughts clearly.

“we’ll be home in five minutes.” he says, unsure of how much time we have.

i shrug, “i’ve done it in less.”

that’s all it takes for nico to remove his hand on my thigh and reposition himself in his seat, spreading his legs farther apart. i smirk to myself, unbuckling my seatbelt before kneeling on the car seat, draping myself on top of the centre console.

my hands work up nico’s right thigh, finding the zipper to his jeans and giving them a tug. i can fell his hardening length underneath my soft touch, my hand palming his erection through his boxers as i slide his jeans down his thighs.

light moans leave his mouth to fill the small proximity of the car. my hands work to slide his boxers down to meet his jeans, nico’s hips buck up, helping me slip the material down his legs.

as his large erection falls out of his underwear, i take it in my hand, softly rubbing pumps up and down the base. nico’s thighs twitch at my new profound touch, breath through his teeth, sucking in all the air his lung yearn for.

curses and groans are heard from above me as my thigh rubs circles around his tip, quickly replaced with my soft wet tongue. a mixture of saliva and pre cum start to drip down his cock, the shiny liquids glistening over ever vein and inch of his hardness.

his hands are quick to form a makeshift ponytail out of my hair, other hand slamming back on the wheel to ensure we don’t crash. my full trust goes into him to get us home safe, praying that my dead body doesn’t get found with a dick in my mouth on the side of the highway.

my tongue is still teasingly slow, licking a circle around the head and across the slit. his teeth have to pierce his lips to not beg for me to go farther, thighs clenching underneath my hand as i stabilize myself to take more of him. one grasps his base, holding it steady as i slide my mouth down his length.

groans are the only thing in my ear, the music that’s playing is overruled by the glorious sounds that nico’s making above me. i can feel my folds dripping as my hole begs to be filled by the cock that’s in my mouth. begging for the familiar shape to stretch me out once again, bottoming me out as he tells me how much he loves me.

i moan against his cock as my thoughts go wild, the vibration of my moan sending shivers down his spine. “fucking hell.” nico mutters. his knuckles grow white from the pressure of his grasp on the steering wheel.

my mouth finally gets to the bottom of his cock, the top hitting hard down the back of my throat receiving a long gag from me. my eyes slightly roll back on my skull before easing myself back up his cock. it doesn’t take me long before i go back down, tip continuing to hit the back of my throat, gagging and choking me.

lifting my head back up to swirl my tongue around his tip, my cheeks hollowing out to go down again. nico’s hand that’s laced in my hair starts to take control, and i let him. he knows how much of him i can take, and he knows that if i can’t i’ll let him know.

i feel safe with nico, knowing that he never does anything that’s sexually out of my comfort zone. never pushing me to do things that i don’t completely want to do.

my ribs ache with the harshness of the console underneath me, my back arching to relive some of the pain. leaving my ass far up in the air, showing it off to nico as he takes a look. his eyes lingering for too long as he removes his eyes from the road.

my eyes start to tear as i choke on it once again, hitting deep in my throat with every pain down of my head.

i can feel the quick twitch in my mouth, waiting for any second for his cum to fill me. he keeps control of my head, using me how he wants me, putting me where his body craves me to be.

as i expected, it takes a mere couple seconds for nico’s cock to start filling my mouth with his warm cum. my chest heaves as i wait for him to stop, as he does i pull my head back up, nico’s cock leaving my mouth with a soft ‘pop’.

i swallow what’s in my mouth, soft residue still falling down the length of his semi-hard dick. his eyes are down at me, i never realized that he already pulled into the drive way and that his eyes were glued on me as i took him.

“god you’re so pretty baby. looking like a doll when you take my cock.” he whispers, wiping the slide of my lip from his liquids. i smirk, straightening back up in my seat.

[pepsiluvr0209]

White Ferrari

First imagine yay!

WARNINGS: Angst, mentions of blood and hospital tubes etc, low-key sad

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧.˚ₓ

"Bad luck to talk, on these rides."

Your head gently laid against the cool window of Matt's minivan, the sunlight hitting your face, reflecting against your hair.

Matt looked over at you and smiled, completely entranced by you. You thought he looked so good. One arm on the wheel and one on the gear stick, looking into the rear-view every now and again.

Looking at him, you adjust your elbow to lean on the side of the car door, resting your head in your palms. "How much longer?"

"Soon baby." Matt replied reassuringly, switching into gear before moving his tattooed arm to your thigh, softly rubbing it. Matt couldn't stop looking at you. He thought you looked particularly pretty today and quite frankly could barely keep his eyes to himself.

"I can't wait to see Central." You smiled at him.

"I know, I have so much to show you, I just know you're gonna love it." He said, facing you with a giddy grin.

'Ladders' By Mac Miller came up on your shared playlist and you instantly reached over to put the music louder.

You both started laughing and singing along, zooming along the seemingly empty highway. Brows furrowing, your once loud words trailed off in the distance, making Matt look over at you.

"Matt..." You squinted, seeing something in the distance, your eyes widening seeing it has no intention of stopping.

"Hmm?" He mumbled, still admiring you.

"Matt, keep your eyes on the road. Matt!"

He turned his head quickly, only to find a blazing sports car coming towards you head on. With the speed you guys were going, attempting to quickly swerve to the left only led to the car speeding into the side of his van.

The side you were sitting in.

"Mind on the road, Your dilated eyes.

Watch the clouds float."

A pounding head, three broken ribs, a punctured lung and a severe concussion but all he could think of is you.

"Hey." Matt said, looking at you. He started attempting to unbuckle himself, harshly landing on an array of broken glass and disrupted gravel. "Baby? Are you okay?" His voice was raspy and he was attempting to crawl his way to your lifeless body, hanging sideways in your seat.

Trying to sit up, Matt gently placed his arm under your head and unbuckled the torn seat belt with the same amount of care. His whole body was shaking, to the point where he couldn't even feel the raging, bleeding burns on his back. You were his number one priority.

He adjusted your body to rest on your lap. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." He repeated in your neck. "Please be okay." His neck went up to look down on you, gently grabbing your bloodied jaw. "Please, I'm sorry." He cried out more strongly. "Oh sweetheart." He sobbed going back into your neck and cradling your body. It was so cold.

Matt didn't know how long he stayed there, holding you and waiting for you to come out of whatever trance you were in. The red and blue in his peripheral didn't even phase him, encased with you in his minivan. Part of him couldn't even wrap his head around it. That you were hurt. Matt already decided in his head that you were just sleeping the pain away, and that tomorrow you would be as good as new, and you could go to Central together.

But something told him you were far, far, far away from okay.

"I didn't care, to state the plain.

Kept my mouth closed."

"Internal bleeding, bruised potentially broken-"

"Male, 20 years, Caucasian-"

"Send him to the x-ray machine now!"

Everything was crossing over each other as doctors and nurses pushed him around quickly on a red-stained gurney. Matt groaned at the bright lights, blinding his sunken blue eyes.

He turned his head, trying to make eye-contact with you, but with no avail. "Wh-what's wrong with her?' The surgeons ignored him, frantically discussing with their partners. "I said, 'What's wrong with her!?' Matt started trying to get up, breaking off IVs and random tubes pricking his arms.

"Restrain him!" Suddenly a wave of medical professionals towered over him, pinning him down.

"No, no, no, no." He sobbed. "Is she okay? Please." He cried making eye contact with a nurse pinning his arm down. She just looked at him sympathetically before re-inserting his tubes. "Please, this is all my fault." No one answered.

"Prepare anaesthesia." A voice came from in front of him.

"No, wait, I have to see that she's okay-" Matt tried to wiggle out of the doctor's grasp, only making them hold him down tighter. "Wait, wait, no-"

"That's just a slow body.

You left when I forgot to speak."

"Can I go see her now?"

Three days. At this point Matt didn't care what they did with his body, he only cared about you. They put him on a tube to feed him, because he refused to eat. Gave him pills because he couldn't sleep.

"They're just running some final tests." A nurse said, adjusting his monitor.

"Is she okay?" His voice was gravely and strained from yelling out for you. Even medication couldn't stop his dreams leading to your lifeless body.

Instead of answering him, the woman looked down at her clipboard checking off numerous things. "Your allowed family visito-"

"God, I don't care! I want to see her."

The nurse left.

Around 2 hours later a man clad in a suit came up to him and sat in the chair next to Matt's bed.

"How... well, would you say, you know y/n."

"Very well." Matt's voice cracked. "We've been dating for 4 years."

"I see." The man looks down at his hands. "Your her emergency contact, you know that?"

Matt shook his head. "Why are you here? Is she okay? Are you freaks finally gonna give me an answer?"

The man sighed and looked up at him through his gold rimmed glasses. "It's not looking well."

Matt just blankly stared at him. "You're pathetic."

"Yeah, well, she's hanging on by the thinnest thread we've ever seen. I'm going to give it to you straight. She's got three days max."

Matt's heart monitor started beeping rapidly. "What do you mean... three days left?" He gulped.

"Metal shards impaled her abdomen causing severe internal bleeding, I mean we are so lucky she got the urgent care she needed when she did. Top that with a fractured neck, ribs shattered beyond compare. There's not much we can do.... Look I'm sorry, but you can visit her."

"N-now?"

"Yeah c'mon up." Matt slowly swung his legs to one side of the bed, away from the man so he couldn't see the aching pain in his face and the piercing sounds of his heart snapping in all different places. Doctors helped him stand up and grab his IV, assisting him with walking, despite his protests.

Matt stood outside your door, knowing he could never be prepared for the amount of pain he's about to see you in.

"Well..." The man in the suit said. Matt took a deep inhale and softly opened your door.

And there you were. Bruised and slightly bloody. Tubes coming in and out of every end of your poor pale body. Matt felt faint and almost fell to his knees if it wasn't for the medical professionals holding him up.

"My sweetheart." He cried out, kneeling on the edge of your bed and grabbing your hand, softly kissing it, the cold skin burning his lips.

"She's just resting now, but she'll be awake in about 30 minutes."

Matt struggled to even get the words out. "So she's like... conscious?"

"Yeah." A tear fell down Matt's sickly face. "She's just in a lot of pain."

"Stick by me, close by me

You were fine."

Around an hour passed and Matt was staring at your face intently, crying every now and again at your fragile state. He wanted to so badly, see you smile again and hear you laugh. But you were gonna die, and he's the only one here with you.

"M-matt?" You voice was small, tiny even. Ridges and croaks with every letter but it was just enough for Matt to burst into tears. "Hey don't cry." Your weak hand moved to his soft hair, lightly scratching at his scalp in an attempt to calm him down. It didn't.

If only he cried harder, leaning into your touch and grasping the rails on the bed, so tightly his knuckles were a snow white. He couldn't do this. Watch you die. "I'm so sorry." He sobbed.

"No-" You cooed but you were cut off with his rapid and heart-wrenching apologies. "Matt, it's gonna be okay."

He looked up at you and your heart broke. His face was red and puffy, eyes watery and blue. "No it's not, you don't understand-"

"I do."

You stroked your thumb under his eye, soothing the purple and red hues. "It's okay."

Matt desperately shook his head under your touch. "No, no, no. I-I was gonna- w-we were supposed to have twins, o-one girl and one boy, and live in B-Boston near my brothers and get married, sweetheart we were going to get married." He cried, holding your hand. "Remember? W-With two dogs a-and Chris and Nick next door, and no we, we were gonna die together. Like that scene in the Notebook." He sobbed. "It was gonna be us together. It was always us together." He squeezed his eyes shut and cried into your hand, whispering sweet nothings about your future you won't get to have.

"I'm sure we're taller in another dimension.

You say we're small and not worth the mention.

You're tired of moving, your body's aching.

We could vacay there's places to go."

"White Ferrari. Had a good time."

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧.˚ₓ

Yikes.... Lemme know if you guys down w a part 2 🤞

Thanks sm for the support <3

[coff33andb00ks]

where i come from - LS

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!reader (lilli. it's lilli) summary: hitch a ride to the end of the highway where the neons turn to wood word count: 1.2k a.n.: the first of three small fics for my beloved Lilli @maxlarens Happy birthday my darling!! I hope you enjoy this little love letter to you (and to american road trips). inspo: all the road trip songs my family blasted during my childhood, compiled here warnings: it's not a waffle house it's a waffle home, author is in love with american south almost as much as Lilli's in love with Logan

"Logan, you can't be serious."

He laughs, parking the car next to a slightly bent light pole. "What? You want to see America, right?"

You press your lips together, staring at the small, flat building that looks as though it's been in that spot since the 1960s and hasn't been refurbished once. "This is America?"

"One of the best parts," he promises, climbing out. The balmy air of Florida immediately makes the car's cold air disappear and you sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt as he walks around to open the door for you.

"A Waffle House is America?"

"Trust me," he says. "You'll understand."

You do trust him, so you let him take your hand, sweat beading before you've taken two steps across the parking lot. There's a crowd of people near the door and you feel their eyes on you and Logan as you approach, the air thick with humidity and weed and tobacco smoke.

The interior is worse than the exterior. Your sandals slide with each step on the ancient tile floor and you can feel the grease in the restaurant. A bored server is leaning against a booth and hands you and Logan menus as you walk by, telling you to sit wherever. You want to turn around and go sit in the car, but…

Logan looks so fucking happy.

So you sit in a booth with him, ignoring the sticky spot on the bench that catches the material of your shorts. You ignore the faint aroma of tobacco smoke that lingers in the dining area. You ignore the yelling from the kitchen staff and the argument starting up between a couple at the counter.

The food is pure American stereotype. Sweet, greasy, and the portions enormous. But your first bite of the burger has you smiling. Because—

"Oh my god," you practically moan.

Across from you, Logan's grinning.

The server is pure southern charm as soon as she hears your accent, and you relax as you enjoy a meal big enough to last you an entire day. It's not great but it's good, and the atmosphere seems to shift.

He buys you a mug, telling you under his breath about a time his brother stole one because apparently everyone does that. Once outside in the sweltering heat, he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. "Welcome to America."

The road trip was his idea. It's the best way to see this land he loves so much and because you love him so much you agreed, and after a week with his family you're driving out of the Florida panhandle, the windows down and the music blasting, both of you singing Sweet Home Alabama at the top of your lungs.

He takes an exit off the interstate and you're already lost but he's content, speeding along unmarked country roads, past lush forests and rolling fields. He has to slow to a crawl for tractors, and every time a car passes he waves like the other person is an old friend.

Left or right? at every stop sign. No map, no GPS, just a whim.

A tiny shop – gas station, babe, not a shop – in the middle of nowhere is selling fresh peaches and the woman is so sweet and talkative you want to stay and talk all day. Her great aunt makes those crochet blankets you're admiring and before you know it you've got three draped over your arms.

"Where y'all headed?" she's asking as Logan pays.

He shrugs, smiling that bashful smile that made you fall in love with him. "Nowhere, really."

She gives the vaguest yet most detailed directions to a motel – you're gonna wanna drive thataway til you see the old rusted school bus? Then take a left and keep driving til you pass the turnoff for the highway. It's down on the right. If you get to the stoplight you done went too far – and Logan gives you a look as you bite into a fresh Georgia peach.

You smile.

More rolling fields and woods. Farms and family homes and kids on swings. He gets to the stoplight and you both laugh all the way back to the motel.

It's tiny and has almost zero amenities but it's clean and the window overlooks a small field of wildflowers. You take a shower and when you come out there's a jar with a bunch of wildflowers in it and you smile at him. You've been smiling so much the past couple days that your cheeks ache.

He finds a place to get dinner and you feast on what he says is pretty okay bbq but you think is the best you've ever tasted.

The next day you're better prepared, and you fully enjoy the rambling tour of the countryside, relaxing with each passing mile. Feet on the dash, singing along to Fleetwood Mac and Tom Petty and Creedence Clearwater Revival. Songs that are familiar and songs that he knows every word to and you are still learning.

Lunch is a picnic, thrown together with gas station sandwiches and bags of chips, sitting on one of the blankets you bought yesterday by a river. You want to enjoy the scenery, because it is as beautiful as he always told you it was, but all you can focus on is him.

He looks so happy. You've seen him happy, of course, but lately he's been downtrodden. Anxious. And you sit there, watching him as he talks about maybe making it up into North Carolina by sundown, seeing how relaxed he is.

And you fall a little in love with this spot of the world that heals him.

"You love it here," you say softly after a bit of silence.

Logan nods, looking out to the river where it disappears into the trees. "I do."

"I'm—"

"I love sharing it with you more."

Oh. Oh. Your eyes are burning and it's not fair that he can drop the sweetest lines when you least expect them even though by now you should expect them because he always does and—

"Lilli?"

You blink and he's moved to sit right in front of you. "Logan?"

Why does he look worried? Your mind scrambles, thinking something must be wrong. He feels ill, or he just spotted some venomous snake slithering nearby or—

He shifts and you glance down, seeing the ring sparkling in his hand.

Later you'll remember every word he says. How his hand shakes and his voice wavers while he tells you how much he loves you and how happy you make him. But for now all you hear is the river splashing over rocks and birds twittering and the breeze ruffling the leaves of the oak tree. And all you can see his eyes, shining and bright and beautiful.

There's hot sauce on his fingers and yours are gritty with salt. His lips taste of salt and vinegar and there's an ant crawling on your leg, and he's apologizing for not giving you some grand proposal, but you don't care. You're glad he asked you here.

"I love you," he whispers, forehead resting against yours and you feel the sigh that exhales his worries.

He worried that you'd say no. As if yes wasn't on your lips before he said the words.

"I love you, Logie."

[perfectsunlight]

( 𝟭𝟵 ) ✏ 𝗷𝗲𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗲

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: hints of family issues

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲

the car ride was silent for the most part as minjeong drove, the lights of the city blurred past as they cruised down the highway. 

“are you okay?”

the president was the first to break the silence. y/n felt nauseous, and perhaps the alcohol was part of the reason why, but it was mostly because of the fear of facing her sister. she knew she should have told jennie sooner about her grades, but it was too late for that now.

“not really.” y/n replied honestly, staring out the passenger seat window. “i feel sick.”

minjeong's grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, her eyes flickering between the road and the rearview mirror, her worry reflected in the lines etched on her face. 

“do you need me to stop somewhere?” the president said awkwardly, her gaze shifting towards the other girl. y/n shook her head immediately, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her chanel party dress. 

even in the dark, y/n’s eyes seemed to be full of fear. it wasn’t the usual look that the young kim usually sported. y/n seemed to be utterly unfazed, even in the face of failing out of university. but somehow going home to face her sister seemed more terrifying than failure.

minjeong knew the feeling all too well. she felt the same way whenever she had to see her father. for the first time since she met the girl, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of empathy for her.

“minjeong?” 

the mentioned girl took note of the way y/n’s voice sounded. she almost didn’t recognize it because her tone was full of genuine fear. the glow of the red light she stopped at casted shadows across the other girl’s face. her eyes met y/n’s, and minjeong could feel her chest squeeze.

“i’m scared.”

minjeong's hands relaxed on the steering wheel as she glanced at the girl sitting in her passenger seat. y/n felt her breath hitch when the president’s usually sharp eyes seemed to be softened. it was a look she had never seen before from the usually poised and pretentious student body president. 

and for a split moment, y/n felt like she’d rather have kim minjeong yelling at her instead of looking at her in a way that made her heart skip a beat.

“i know,” minjeong said softly, her tone gentle. the words hung in the air, laden with a calmness not even she herself knew she could muster up. “but you have to face the music.”

the rest of the car ride was silent like the beginning, the president occasionally glancing at the brunette next to her. however her attention immediately shifted to the sight in front of her when she finally arrived at the gates to y/n’s family home.

kim minejong was no stranger to wealth, it was everything to her family. but y/n jade kim came from a different kind of wealth.

the president couldn't help but marvel at the sheer grandeur of it all. the mansion, adorned with ivy-covered walls and guarded by meticulously landscaped gardens, stood as a monument to the kim family's stature in society. the house itself was an architectural masterpiece, a blend of modern design and classic elegance. just from the detailing alone, minjeong knew the property was worth at least 10 million us dollars.

y/n, on the other hand, wanted to throw up as they drove past the gates. the facade of her family's wealth was something she'd grown up with, but it had never been enough to shield her from the responsibilities and expectations that came with it. 

she had always felt the weight of her sister's name, and now, facing her disappointment was a weight that bore down on her more heavily than ever.

minjeong brought the car to a stop, the engine's gentle hum momentarily breaking the silence. she turned to y/n, her once unforgiving eyes now filled with hints of compassion.

the other kim cleared her throat and gave the president a forced tight lipped smile. “thank you for the ride.” she whispered, doing her best to enjoy the last few moments of peace before she’d have to face the music.

as the car door opened and y/n stepped out onto the cobblestone driveway, the gravity of the situation weighed on her fully. jennie somehow found out everything, but y/n should have known better.

her sister always found everything out.

“y/n?”

raising an eyebrow, y/n looked back over her shoulder back at the driver. minjeong’s voice was soft, something she still wasn’t used to hearing yet.

“you got this.”

with a deep breath, she nodded at minjeong, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected support she had received. “thank you,” y/n said, her voice steadier now, the words carrying a weight of genuine gratitude. with that, she closed the car door, the metallic thud echoing in the quiet night, and turned towards the imposing entrance of her family home.

as she pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside, the opulence of the kim residence surrounded her. the marble floors, the ornate chandeliers, the meticulously arranged furniture—everything screamed of wealth and sophistication. but amidst the luxury, y/n felt a sense of isolation. 

it was a reminder that she was just a girl who had to live by expectations. the shadow of her sister's success made sure of that. 

the impending confrontation loomed ahead, but minjeong's words echoed in her mind like a mantra. “you got this,” y/n repeated to herself, drawing some strength from those simple words.

slowly taking her party heels off, the young girl set them aise and made her way into the open spaced living room. the moment jennie’s side profile came into view, y/n felt like she was about to throw up.

cat-like eyes just like hers bore into her figure as she walked closer to her sister. jennie’s face was stoic and cold as steel. “sit.” she said in a tone void of any emotion. the older girl sat in one of the lounge chairs, one leg crossed over the other with her arms folded.

y/n swallowed hard, her throat dry as she obediently sank into the nearest chair, her eyes fixed on her sister's implacable gaze. the silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the distant sounds of the city seeping through the closed windows. every ticking second felt like an eternity, the tension in the air suffocating. jennie's expression remained unchanged, an impenetrable mask that hid her true feelings. it was the kind of stoicism that y/n had always struggled to match, a coldness that seemed to cut through even the warmest of moments. 

her sister's composure only emphasized y/n's own vulnerability, her racing heart a stark contrast to the icy calmness that surrounded her. the younger girl knew better than to say anything before jennie did. it had been years since y/n got scolded by her sister, but she remembered the routine like it was yesterday.

jennie's eyes narrowed slightly, her silence drawing out the tension. y/n could practically feel her sister's disappointment hanging in the air like a heavy cloud. the weight of it pressed down on her shoulders, reminding her of the expectations she had failed to meet.

“where were you?” she asked, arching a brow. “i thought you had tutoring tonight.”

the young kim wanted to disappear into the chair she was sitting in. she wished she could vanish in between the cracks of the velvet and never come back. there was no use in lying to jennie when she asked you something, because 9 times out of 10, she already knew the truth.

she just wanted to see if you were going to lie.

“a party.” y/n answered timidly, hands fidgeting with the ends of her party dress. the older girl hummed, nodding her head slowly. “so you have time to party, but not study? is that what i’m hearing?”

y/n's discomfort deepened as she sank further into the plush chair, the weight of her sister's disapproval hanging heavily in the air. jennie's piercing gaze seemed to strip away any pretense, exposing y/n's vulnerabilities to the harsh light of scrutiny. the memory of their well-worn routine played out as expected. 

jennie's questions were never meant to seek information; they were trials of honesty, and y/n knew that all too well. her sister had a way of getting to the heart of the matter, even without saying much.

her older sister’s eyes narrowed as she leaned over the table a little more. the way jennie moved was like a predator about to ambush its prey. 

and it frightened y/n. for the first time in years, she was truly reminded of how terrifying her sister was.

“who drove you home?” 

the room seemed to shrink around y/n as jennie's voice sliced through the air. the question hung there, filled with implications, and y/n felt her breath catch in her throat. the intensity of her sister's scrutiny, the way her eyes bore into y/n’s, was suffocating. 

“minjeong,” y/n admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. the name felt like a betrayal, echoing in the heavy silence of the room. jennie's reaction was imperceptible, but y/n sensed the subtle shift in her sister's demeanor. a flicker of something, something she couldn't quite decipher, passed through jennie's eyes. 

“jimin’s vice president?” jennie's tone was calm, but there was a razor-sharp edge to it, slicing through y/n's composure. she nodded hesitantly, feeling like prey ensnared in the predator's gaze. “jimin is vice president now. minjeong is president this year…” she whispered, voice trailing off slightly as she averted her sister’s gaze.

the girl braced herself for the storm she knew would follow, but to her surprise, jennie’s next words were unexpectedly measured. 

“hmm,” jennie murmured, her eyes narrowing further as if calculating something. “interesting choice of company.” 

there was a pause, and y/n felt like she was walking on a tightrope, unsure of which way the wind would blow. for a moment, she almost thought she detected a glint of something other than coldness in jennie’s eyes – perhaps a tinge of concern, a sliver of curiosity. 

it was a revelation that made y/n's skin crawl; she wasn't accustomed to seeing vulnerability in her sister, and she wasn’t sure how to interpret it. but just as quickly as it had appeared, that fleeting emotion was gone, replaced by the familiar mask of stoicism. 

jennie straightened, her predatory aura diminishing as she did, but the tension in the room remained palpable. “remember, sweetheart,” jennie said, her voice low and measured, despite the term of endearment; “the company you keep reflects on all of us. make sure you choose wisely.”

y/n wasn’t dumb enough to ignore the implication behind her sister’s comment. she knew it was pointed at a certain best friend of hers, one who jennie was far from fond of.

the older girl uncrossed her leg and leaned forward, moving closer to her little sister with a piercing gaze. “tell me, y/n jade,” y/n felt as if she was staring into her very own soul when her irises met jennie’s. 

“why did the university call to tell me you’re about to be put on academic probation?”

y/n's heart plummeted as her sister's question cut through the air, the gravity of her situation sinking in with each word. jennie's eyes bore into her, unyielding and unforgiving, demanding the truth that y/n couldn't evade. her sister's voice, though soft, carried the weight of their family's name and the expectations that came with it. 

she swallowed hard, her throat dry as she met jennie's gaze, a mixture of shame and fear clouding her eyes. there was no point in hiding anymore; the façade had crumbled under the weight of her sister's scrutiny. “i don’t know,” y/n stammered, her voice barely audible. “i thought i could balance everything, but i lost control. i didn't study enough, didn't focus on my grades like i should have.” 

jennie's expression remained unyielding, her disappointment palpable. for a moment, the room seemed to constrict around y/n, suffocating her as she realized the depth of her failure. she had let her family down, tarnishing the reputation they had worked so hard to build. 

“i don’t think that’s the true reason, y/n.” she snapped, eyes still narrowed in on her sister. the younger girl felt her palms sweating as she clenched her fists in her lap. “you didn’t have this problem when you were dating jimin, or living here at home. but the second you moved in with kazuha on campus, suddenly you’re failing?”

the young girls’ breath hitched as jennie's voice turned sharper, cutting to the core of the matter. her sister's observations were astute, leaving y/n feeling exposed and vulnerable. the way jennie saw through her façade was unsettling, her unyielding gaze dissecting y/n's actions, revealing the dissonance between her past and present. 

“it's not about zuha,” the brunette said, her voice trembling slightly, the weight of her sister's disappointment pressing down on her. “i just…got carried away with the newfound freedom and i made poor choices. it was my mistake unnie, not hers.”

tears brimmed in the younger girl’s waterline. y/n could handle failing. she could handle the scoldings from her mother and the reprimand from the university. there was only one thing that she couldn’t handle.

and it was disappointing her sister.

“i told you to stop hanging out with kazuha.” jennie snapped, her voice sharp as it pierced y/n’s ears. “she’s been nothing but a horrible influence on you.”

the younger kim hung her head, knowing better than to argue with the older on this fact. she knew her sister was right about her best friend, even if it hurt to admit it.

“wasn’t your breakup because of her, too? because last time i checked, it was.”

the young girl’s silence hung heavy in the air, the accusation in jennie's words stinging like salt on an open wound. her sister's tone cut through her, a reminder of the tangled web of mistakes she had woven. the mention of her breakup with jimin, the only girl she had once thought she would spend forever with, felt like a punch to the gut. the tears that had been threatening spilled over, tracing salty paths down her cheeks. 

“no, unnie,” y/n said, her voice small and fragile. “it wasn't just because of kazuha. we had problems...real problems. but she did play a part, i won't lie.” jennie's expression remained stern, her disappointment etched deep into the lines of her face. the room seemed to close in on y/n, the walls pressing in on her, suffocating her. 

“we talked about this before, many times. and you still didn’t listen to me.” jennie's words hung heavily in the air, laden with disappointment, frustration, and an undercurrent of pain. “i told you not to listen to your friends if they wanted to compromise your well-being.”

forcing her eyes to shut as the tears spilled from the corners of her eyes, the youngest kim tried not to start bawling her eyes out right then and there. 

silence passed for a few beats until jennie rose from her seat, arms folded against her chest as she turned to face the mantle of the fireplace. resting atop was a family portrait they took together. their mother sat in a chair facing the center with both y/n and jennie standing side by side behind it.

“i’ve given you everything, y/n/n.” she whispered, but loud enough for her sister to hear. “and this is how you repay me? how you repay mom?”

the accusation in those words was like a knife through y/n's heart. she felt the weight of the family's expectations bearing down on her, the legacy they had to uphold. it was a legacy that she had let crumble, and the guilt was unbearable. 

“i'm sorry,” y/n whispered, her voice breaking as she finally opened her eyes. the tears flowed freely, uncontainable. “i'll make it right, unnie. i promise.” but the promise felt weak in the face of the disappointment that hung heavily in the room. 

the damage was done, and now, y/n had to find a way to rebuild what she had lost, not just for her own sake but for the sibling that had given her everything.

“are you actually seeing a tutor?” she asked, turning back to face her silently crying sister. y/n wiped her tears with the back of her hand quickly as she nodded. “yes unnie. minjeong, she was my tutor at first but now i have a different one.”

“mm, that’s not gonna work.” jennie said immediately. she drummed her fingers against one of the nearby pillars, thinking to herself for a moment. “is jimin on the tutoring committee this year?” 

the younger sibling shook her head. “no, i would’ve gone to her if she was.” 

the idol hummed to herself for a moment before standing straight and nodding slowly. “then minjeong will be your only tutor. no one else. i’ll even pay her personally to send me updates on your progress.”

“what? why? i got my first few good grades with my other tutor, so why can’t i just stay with her?” y/n asked cautiously, confusion laced in her watery eyes.

jennie’s eyes narrowed as she regarded her sister. “because consistency is key,” she replied, her voice firm. “i want someone who can keep an eye on you consistently, someone who can understand your progress day by day. minjeong was elected student body president for a reason. she’s reliable, disciplined, and i trust her judgment.” 

y/n hesitated, her mind racing to find a way around her sister's decision. “but i feel comfortable with my new tutor. she understood my learning style, and i improved under her guidance quickly.” 

a stern expression settled on jennie's face as she moved closer to the young kim girl. “i trust her. she’s resourceful and experienced. this isn’t a negotiation, y/n. you need to focus, and she will ensure you do just that.”

with a resigned sigh, y/n nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “yes, unnie.” jennie’s expression softened, a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. she reached out, gently cupping y/n’s cheek, her touch surprisingly gentle amidst the sternness. 

“i’m doing this because i believe in you. i know you can do better. don’t prove me wrong.” tears welled up again in y/n’s eyes, but this time they were different. they weren’t just tears of frustration, but tears tinged with determination. she felt a flicker of hope amidst the despair. 

maybe, just maybe, minjeong could provide the structure she desperately needed. after all, now she had no choice.

“i won’t,” y/n vowed, her voice steadier now. “i won’t let you down, unnie.” the older girl nodded, removing her hand and walking towards the stairs. 

“oh, and one more thing,” she said slowly, turning her neck to lean over the railing so y/n could hear her clearly. 

“you’re no longer allowed to hang out with kazuha.”

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @silantryoo @forever-in-the-sky2 @rosiehrs @urfriendlylocalidiot @chaewonluvsme @zhivaxo @baebeefyburrito @jisooftme @winterlve @mina1vr @rgxjsss @uzumakioden @bexisbomb @tzuyuscloud @cwpiqwon @dream-chasers-things @demtions @sewiouslyz @jeindall777

@writingficsblog @ad0rechuu @lauxymy4 @awkwardtoafault @popstaryunjin @hibernatinghamster @tocupid @myothegreat @yerevies @alexxis10 @sighsam @ddeulgiheree @kikelikesmc @ddoxhan @justalittledissociation @jenaissantex @captivq @lea-pg @skisk1 @justme-idle @neuftaeng

CLOSED.

[daydream-believin]

Like A Boiled Frog (You Don't Even Scream) [ch 1]

notes: might proofread this before i post this to ao3 but here have the raw milk version (pasteurization is for losers amaright)

series summary: every time you think things cant get any more batshit, hurricane throws another pile of guano at you. every time you think the hole cant get any deeper, you fall further. and you’re not sure what frightens you more: the town itself, or your increasing reluctance to leave.

or: au where mike has that pizza shop for wayyy more than a week and you find yourself a horror protagonist. or at least one’s love interest.

chapter summary: get haunted bitch. now go drive to utah in a manic episode. go meet a nice walking corpse, maybe it'll fix you. or make you worse. probably that second thing lmao

word count: 7985, oh dear (thats with me cutting out some stuff lol)

warnings: uh, swearing, manic behavior, self-harmful thoughts/behavior, mention of hallucinations/hearing voices, shit this is sounding bad, i mean its canon typical violence so idk man no lifeguard on duty

You know how in Source Decay, John Darnielle says / I wish the west Texas highway was a mobius strip / I could ride it out forever / when I feel my heart break? / Well, that guy’s a bitchass snake oil salesman for romanticizing this. Fuck that guy.

Although, this is the first time you’ve ever been able to set a cruise control and actually just leave it at that. What with there being no other cars on the road out here at this hour for you to run into. You even forgot about it at one point.

Little puffs of fire danced in your peripheral vision, like fairies flitting about. It was easy to spot them out in the night air, all those pumpjacks that littered the desert. There was nothing but these small fires, with the tiny, dotted additions of the glowing red eyes of windmills to light up the way for miles.

And you tried not to think about how if you broke down, no one would be around to find you. Every now and then you would startle at the shadowy specter of a tumbleweed crossing your path, but you were acutely aware of just how alone you were out here.

On that train of thought, your gaze fell to the passenger side, to the little bear toy you had buckled into a seatbelt like it was a person.

“Can you believe this, Fredbear?” you asked the inanimate object.

Fredbear did not answer, of course. Would be insane if he did, right?

Hmm …Why did part of you expect him to.

***

The august sun was beating down hot on your back as you walked home that day. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was only last week.

The neighborhood was as full of life as it always was. The kids running around in a game of tag, the teens playing basketball, and the adults walking their dogs. You could hear some faint music playing in the distance, most likely from the stage setup in the square downtown, not too far away.

There were many yard sales set up, it being the thing to do on a sunny Saturday afternoon like this. Despite your very strong instincts to rummage through all the boxes in these sales like a raccoon looking for dinner in a dumpster, you were broke, with no money to spare for impulse purchases on random junk. And thus, being a mature adult, you walked right past them.

That is, until a yard full of children’s toys caught your eye. One of your cousins’ kids was turning 6 in a few weeks. Might as well buy presents now before you forget again and have to rush to the store in a panic 8 minutes after the party had already started, sweat rolling down your back as you search the toy isle for something the birthday boy would like, while your phone keeps buzzing in your pocket nonstop because both your cousin is texting and your aunt is calling to ask where you’re at because you were the one who was supposed to be picking up the pizza.

 I mean, just a hypothetical scenario here.

You didn’t really find anything good as you dug through the bins of miscellaneous action figures and toy cars. As you could recall, the kid really liked Iron Man right now. And sharks. Alas, you found no Iron Mans or sharks in those bins.

The other table’s baskets were full of stuffed animals. You could maybe get lucky and find a stuffed shark in there. But stuffed animals are notorious for being hard to clean; and yard sale plushies sometimes come with more than just one new friend. You weren’t about to be the reason your cousin had to fumigate her house for bedbugs. Again. So, you decided to close this case for now and skedaddle on out of there.

You took another look back at the table as you walked away.

Well.. The toys you could see at the top of the bins did look like they were well taken care of… It couldn’t hurt to just look, right?

Yeah no. You found no sharks unfortunately. What you did find, however, was this funky little teddy bear wearing a top hat and bowtie.

A real character, that one. The bright gold fabric of its body made it stand out amongst the other toys. The smile stitched onto the bear gave it a weird, smug look. And you hadn’t seen a plushy with eyebrows before.

That being said, this thing’s aura was so... unsettling. You stared into its black eyes, that seemed to stare right back at you, with a strange feeling twisting in the pit of your stomach.

“You like that one, do ya?”

You almost jumped out of your skin when the old man running the sale spoke to you. You had Not heard him come up beside you like that. Creepy.

“Yeah, it’s…” you tried to think of a positive word, “very intriguing. Looks like it’s ready for a party.”

“My granddaughter called him Fredbear. Found him over in Utah, many years back. In a yard sale, just like this one,” he gently took the bear from you, and looked down at it wistfully, “My granddaughter..  liked how smartly dressed he was. A perfect guest for her tea parties. You were right about that…”

The old man stared at the doll for a little longer after the conversation faded. You felt extremely awkward now. Perhaps you really should have just left without unearthing this obvious sentimental piece.

“My grandchildren are no longer here with me,” you felt a little uncomfortable with how he phrased that, “so, I’ll tell you what. Promise me you’ll take care of him, and he’s yours. Free of charge.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I’d be happy to pay for him, really,” you felt bad taking free stuff from the elderly.

“No,” he said with a tone of finality, placing the bear firmly into your hands, “the day’s almost over. I’d like to help this old friend move on. It’s time.”

Well that somehow was both sweet and foreboding at the same time.

So, you thanked the old man and started back on your walk home, Fredbear cradled in your arms. He waved goodbye to you. The grandfather, of course, not the teddy bear.

You probably aren’t going to wind up giving this one to your cousin’s son. There was something about it that told you not to. Maybe it was the way the old man talked about it. You felt compelled to take care of the plush yourself. Kind of like an honor thing. Or a pity thing.

It smelled a little funky. But that’s nothing a little TLC couldn’t handle. And some dish soap.

Maybe you were just. Feeling a bit childish lately. Too small and easily broken. Moved to tears by little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Disregarded and treated like your fears weren’t real.

Deeply afraid.

Yeah, you’d give Fredbear a nice soak in the sink with a fun dish soap bubble bath. And maybe after that, you’ll both feel a little better.

You were alone in your apartment that night, as your roommate was always gone these days. And when you made your tea, you brought Fredbear a mug as well. A little tea party, for old time’s sake.

Looking back, maybe that was your first mistake.

***

Static rolled from your radio. You gave up on fiddling with it hours ago, but you’ve got nothing better to occupy your mind now.

You turned the knob absentmindedly, never really expecting to get anywhere. Or any signal, that is. A muffled country song here, the broken-up voice of a DJ there, nothing strong enough to stay for more than a few seconds. However, a few seconds of a clear transmission was all you really needed when you rolled past a certain signal.

“zZz-Hurricane—“

Now that was a word that got your attention. Not that you were anywhere near the coast at the moment. You know, unless the person reading this is looking to buy some oceanside property in Arizona. In that case feel free to slide into my DMs.

“zZZ-Peach Days! -Zz celebratio— zzZ-year—peaches peach—-ZzzZ-Heritage-zZ,” you let your gaze flicker downward, towards the dimly lit red text of the frequency number display as if that would provide some more insight.

And then suddenly, the fuzz was completely gone, as if you were near the tower itself,

“So Hurry On To Hurricane City!” the spokesman encouraged cheerfully. You could practically here the giant pageant smile in his voice as he delivered his slogan. This man was your friend, obviously. Then, however, his tone shifted as he closed the ad copy, “Because you know the party can’t start without you…”

You held your breath as the silence dragged out a few agonizing seconds, until “ZZZZZZZZ!!!”, in a jolt, the transmission went completely out. Explosively. You even flinched.

You stayed on the station for a good twenty minutes after that, waiting to see if you could hear anything again. You could feel your heart pound against your ribs until the terrifying feeling faded. There was nothing else but static, of course, and for so long you almost thought you must have imagined it. If not for the way those dull words repeated in your head, over and over.

THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.

THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.

THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.

You hadn’t really had a destination in mind when you took off. No goal other than to get out of there as fast as you could manage. The idea of the West had been bouncing around your brain a lot lately, hence your current trajectory, but you really hadn’t had a clue where you were supposed to be going when you left.

I mean, you still didn’t have a destination. You had no clue what that advertisement was even about. Where they were even fucking talking about. Hurricane City?

Yet, somehow, you knew those words were meant for you. Not anyone else. you. There was a party and the party was waiting for you.

Guess you’d have to look for a map or something in town. Perhaps use the library computer. Man, you would regret throwing your phone into the lake in a fit of passion as you left town, but honestly, this is the longest you’ve known peace in quite some time. Just gonna have to live a little retro for a while. Not the worst thing in the world.

You’ll get a new one later, once you’ve settled in to… wherever you’re going. Whatever new home lies over that horizon for you, you guess.

The sun was breaching the beige skyline of sandy shrub brush as you finally rolled over the state line. You needed to eat. Your stomach growled loudly at just the thought. Funny. You hadn’t even thought about eating in the last.. twenty hours. Which means you should be absolutely shaking right now. Yeah, that’s why you’re shaking. That’s it. You’ll pull into the first diner you see.

You were hoping to at least be in Roswell for breakfast, but there was no way your body was going to be able to keep running if you waited that long. Looks like it’s just going to be the first place you come across.

Hopefully they don’t put green chilis in their pancakes or something.

That sounds insane but it’s an actual thing you’ve seen before in this state, trust. There are no laws nor gods when it comes to Hatch green chilis.

***

Your sleepy brain was not ready for the bell that rang as you walked through the door. Embarrassingly enough, the tinny noise startled you. You almost tripped, to be honest. Thankfully your wobbly Bambi legs held up as you managed to catch yourself.

The hostess wasn’t in sight as you awkwardly stood in the entrance, but there was a whole heap of noise coming from the kitchen.

“Hold on just a second, Sweetpea!” a voice called out to you.

Well, guess you’re holding on a second.

Your eyes scanned the top of the walls, perusing the vast cookie jar collection that the owner had accrued over the years. They were never dusted, despite being on shelves that lined the top of every wall in the tiny shack of a diner, and thus you could easily tell that a few new additions had been made. You know, because those cookie jars were way less filthy.

That’s gotta be a heath-code violation.

After you heard a bit of garbled yelling, the hostess rushed out to take her place in front of you. Smoothing down her polka-dotted apron, she grinned at you.

“Table for two?”

You blinked. It was too early in the morning for fully intelligent speech.

“Uh. No. Just me today. Thank you.”

Her big, bedazzled cat-eyeglasses fell a little farther down her nose as she scrunched her face in confusion, “alright then. Just the one of you today...”

She grabbed a paper menu as she led your shambling body to a table near the window. Which was shut away with ancient looking vinyl blinds that you were too afraid to open, lest they crumble and the cost of replacing them be put on your on tab.

She had already disappeared back into the kitchen by the time you got yourself in a seat. You glanced around the room. You weren’t the only patron here, as a few tables held a few bodies, but you were the only one without your face buried in a newspaper. And to be expected honestly, you were the youngest person in the room at seven in the morning.

The hostess, who was also the only waitress in this tiny local business, placed two glasses in front of you. The dull sound they made hitting the table drew you out of your revelry. There before you were two cups, a steaming mug of fresh coffee and a short glass of milk. You looked up in confusion.

“Don’t worry, it’s whole milk. Builds strong bones.”

That... wasn’t your concern.

You looked back at the cup in confusion and by the time you turned back, she had already moved on to the next table, refilling mugs and having loud banter with the other customers. Her regulars, by the sound of it. You felt too apathetic to try and call her over again.

You shrugged, to no one in particular, as you did not have a breakfast partner with you, despite the waitress’s insistence otherwise. Wait, was she mocking you? Eh, maybe it’s just supposed to be for the coffee. Nevertheless, you would not be drinking the milk, so you just left it there.

Despite the prevalence of the local newspaper in the room, there wasn’t a dispenser or anything at the front of the restaurant, like there usually is. As you drummed your fingers on the tablecloth, bored out of your mind, you kinda regretted throwing your phone in the lake a bit more. Maybe not the best of moves.

But hey, at least you aren’t constantly quelling the incessant buzzing you’d be hearing if you’d kept it.

You busied yourself stirring your coffee while you looked over the menu again, just for something to read. Of course, you were ordering a waffle. Because this was a diner, and, yeah, you do like waffles. And pancakes. And French toast. Doodoodoodoo can’t wait to get a mouthful.

That voice kept echoing in your mind. The party can’t start without you.

“More coffee, Babycakes?” the waitress snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Oh! Yeah, thank you,” you moved the mug to the edge of the table, closer to her, “Say… I know this is an out-of-pocket question, but have you heard anything about Hurricane City? Maybe something about peaches?”

“Oh!” she snapped her fingers, “You mean the Peach Days. It’s a little heritage festival they put on every summer in Hurricane, you know. It’s a hoot, my family makes a trip out there every few years or so for it. Not this time of course, clearly, since I’m here talkin’ to you and not in Utah—”

“In Utah?”

Of course, it was Fucking Utah again.

“I know it’s soundin’ far, but it’s only ‘bout a day’s drive from here. Two days if y’ain’t crazy about following an itinerary like my husband,” she brushed a hand over her apron before you lost her attention to the other customers, “I swear that man would plan out a schedule for every second of the day if he could…”

After she wandered off to go top off more mugs, you lamented the fact that you still hadn’t ordered yet. That’s what you get for being nosy about peach festivals, you suppose.

Thankfully though, soon enough you had your hearty breakfast and were back in front of the wheel, on your way to the friendly neighborhood Walmart. Where hopefully no cops or employees would bother you as you crashed in the parking lot.

You took Fredbear to the backseat with you for good luck. Maybe it was the gold color, or the fancy getup he had. Maybe you just needed a cuddle buddy to not feel so alone in this parking lot swarming with people.

Much to your disdain, it was now a bit into the morning hours, and the sun was fully up.

You had tried to find as shady a spot as possible, but it’s not exactly like trees grow in this biome. At least not naturally. Windbreak tree lines were definitely a thing, but those protected buildings people cared about, and this was a Walmart. Nothing around here but concrete, rocks spray painted blue, and cigarette butts.

So after tossing and turning in the bright blinding sunshine for way longer than you should have, and making promises to higher deities was proven to be unfruitful in your attempt to find some semblance of peace, you finally just had to admit defeat. And here by rescinding any aforementioned promises to higher powers.

You laid Fredbear back down on the seat and tucked him in with the blanket when you got back up. At least one of you could be cozy and well rested. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be you, however.

Well, it’s far from the first all-nighter you’ve pulled without having time to take a nap during the following day. Sleep deprivation isn’t real, silly. Teachers just made that up to scare you. It’ll be fine.

***

You know you never really realize how much we structure our lives around other humans until you take a drive through the middle of nowhere. How essential it is to have enough gas to make it to the next town. From town to town, your life becomes segments. Only within the eyesight of other humans are you ever safe. Only within the bounds of the settlement can your soul be settled.

Gas stations become oases. Which is the plural of oasis, apparently. Anyway, you start seeing them like mirages. Dingey, weather-worn gas pumps become as good as a sparkling illusion of precious water in the Sahara. The empty shells of buildings you passed by, long since forgotten, became like mausoleums in these graveyard towns. Villages. Hamlets. Mostly hamlets.

“Are we there yet?” a small and very annoyed voice called out.

You had just written it off as your imagination until you heard the noise of shuffling fabric. Normally your audio hallucinations aren’t that detailed. Paralyzed, you held your breath, not daring to make any noise that would distract your ears from hearing whoever, whatever, was in the back seat. Your mind went to stories of skinwalkers and misshapen monsters and hitch-hiking serial killers.

“… Are we there yet?” the voice repeated, admittedly sounding even smaller to you now.

Yep, that’s a real person alright. Or a real thing. Your eyes were probably bloodshot from the way you haven’t blinked this entire time, just staring straight ahead on the desert highway. Taking a deep, shaky breath to steady yourself, you turned down the rear-view mirror…

Christ almighty. You had a stowaway.

Your stomach turned immediately. God, come on now, don’t puke up what little you had on your stomach. You need that.

“Hey Buddy,” you tried to sound as friendly as you could, “What’s your name?”

Clad in a little striped shirt and cargo shorts, he started kicking his feet in impatience, which would be cute if it weren’t for this situation y’all are in, and the adrenaline pumping through your veins, “We’ve been in here forever,” he whined.

If this was a skinwalker, he was a pretty darn adorable one. And definitely not a hitch-hiking serial killer. At least you hoped. But no, this was a greater form of terror: responsibility.

“Haha, yeah, we have been in here really long, haven’t we? How long do you think we’ve been driving, can you tell me?”

When did you pick up this child. When you got gas in Gallup? Albuquerque? Dear lord, if he’s been in here since Roswell, you’re about to have the world’s biggest headache on your hands, both metaphorically and physically. But there’s no way he’s been in here for fucking 10 hours, right? right??

Okay, okay. Maybe you’re just a little panicky right now and not thinking straight. Maybe teachers hadn’t been making up sleep deprivation just to scare you after all. You have been purposely not drinking anything for the lack of available restrooms. People get dehydration hallucinations, right?

The boy just stared at you, blankly. Probably fully realizing you were a stranger and not whoever he thought you were. In lieu of answering you, he started fidgeting more with the toy bear you had had in the back. You really hoped that hadn’t been what lured him into your station wagon in the first place.

Don’t be getting shy on me now, kid.

You put your blinker on, ready to merge off the road and onto an incoming rest-stop that you thanked your lucky stars for.

“Honey, can you tell me what your phone number is?”

He looked up at you, finally tearing his attention from the bear, and you could see gears turning in his head.

“…435-555-1987?”

You repeated it back to him, and he nodded. Alright, time to find that payphone.

Said rest-stop payphone was thankfully near a picnic table so you could sit him down and be able to watch him carefully the whole time you made this call. Because judging by the fact this situation was happening at all, he was a slippery one.

You got out of the car and opened the back door, but he was hesitant to get out. Which, fair, you are a stranger trying to get him to a second location.

“What’s up, Bud?” you tried your hardest to not sound like a predator but boy was that a real nebulous idea, wasn’t it?

“Fredbear wants to come too,” he mutters.

“Well, sure then, let’s bring him, we’ll have a little picnic.” With no food, but hey, whatever lie it takes to get him sitting on that bench.

It was really cute the way the kid set the bear down on the table and positioned it like they were going to have a picnic together. When you find this kid’s parents, you’ll let him keep Fredbear. Toys like it when they’re given to new children, right? Wasn’t there a movie about that or something. Wincing at the grubbiness of the payphone, you reluctantly dialed the number.

“Hello, Jeff’s Pizza on Main St, are you ready to order?”

You closed your eyes, counting the seconds as you breathed in for 4 seconds, held it for 7, and released for 8.

“Hello? Are you there?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted into the receiver. So much for calming down, “please don’t hang up,” you pleaded.

“Listen, we don’t take solicitation,”

“No, uh, sorry. I’ve found a lost child who told me this was his number. Is the owner of this restaurant by chance frantically looking for their son?”

You heard some muffled conversation happening behind the phone, “Well, no, I don’t even have any kids… and I uh, am currently understaffed. Im the only one here.”

you cursed under your breath.

“Uh, alright, well…” you could tell this was getting really awkward for him.

“Could you tell me where y’all are, I’m unfamiliar with the area code,”

“Uh, Hurricane, Utah?”

… If you weren’t on the phone, you fucking swear you’d be screeching at the top of your lungs like a chimpanzee right now.

“Thank you, you know, just in case he’s just remembering an advertisement he’s seen or something,”

“Oh, okay,” there was a pause, “well I hope you find the parents or, whoever,”

“Thank you,” you’ll put him out of his misery and hang up.

“Are you sure that’s your number, Hon?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Why don’t you tell me it again, maybe I dialed it wrong,”

“435-5--” his face scrunched up in concentration, “435-555—I don’t know…”

You tried not to look visibly stressed at this answer.

“Do you know where you live?”

He moved the bears paws along with whatever little game he was playing, before looking up at you, head tilted in confusion, “Hurricane?”

Okay. Police time. If not for him, for you. The skinwalker possibility just went back up. Because, honestly, he had to have gotten in your car as a coyote or something. No way you wouldn’t’ve noticed a whole ass child entering your car.

“How does ice cream sound, huh Buddy?”

“I want ice cream!” he said hastily as if you’d change your mind if he hesitated.

“Ice cream it is then, but only if you’re good for me and the officers, okay? And tell them everything you can remember. You’re smart, right?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Great,” you smiled over clenched teeth.

After herding him back into the car, you had to take a moment to gently rest your head into the steering wheel. And it took everything within you to not smash said head into it. Or scream in agony. No, no, we mustn’t scare the child.

Tuba City wasn’t too far away. The police station was downtown, as most are. Luckily, across the street there was a paleteria with a courtyard area. The little guy got very excited when you got pulled into the parking space, so eh, what the hell, ice cream first. Maybe after a treat and some playtime in the courtyard he won’t be as wiggly and will be able to tell the cops what he knows about just where the hell he came from.

The noise of the bell chiming made you flinch as you two walked into the paleteria. You hadn’t thought you were that tightly wound right now but apparently you were wrong. The lady behind the counter greeted you warmly, and you responded in turn, trying to play it cool.

God, imagine if she got an off-vibe from you and the kid and called over the police from across the street before you even have a chance—

Deep breath. Okay. The kid you had started referring to in your head as just “Little Boy” was leaned against the display case, his breath fogging up the glass in front of him and probably leaving little handprints for the shopkeeper to clean later.

“I’m sorry about that,”

“That’s… Okay. What can I get you?” she seemed a little confused. Strange, but you brushed past it just as quickly as she did.

“Ah, what do we want?” you asked Little Boy.

He excitedly tugged on your pantleg and pointed to the popsicle he wanted, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. He doesn’t need to convince you, but you quickly realized you were not going to be able to say no to any else after this if he deployed the same cute begging look.

“One of those cute little Tweety Bird faces,” you pointed.

“Anything else?” she handed you the popsicle and you gingerly took it.

“Nah, that’s it�� you were too nauseous to eat right now.

You paid, throwing the change into the tip jar, and turned to give Little Boy the popsicle she handed you.  The words caught in your throat as you looked down to find your pantleg absent of any tugging by any Little Boy. You quickly scanned the tiny paleteria. He was nowhere to be found, anywhere in the room.

“Uh, did you see where the kid went?” you tried not to sound too panicked.

She was taken aback, also quickly looking around the room to find no one, before shaking her head, “Did you have a kid with you?”

You furiously nodded in confusion,

“I’m sorry, then I didn’t see them,” she pointed to the glass door that led to the courtyard only a few feet away from y’all, “Try outside, maybe?”

You burst outside, searching the area in a panic, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. Not hidden in the tangle of the garden, not splashing around in the fountain, not at, under, on top of, or around any of the tables.

You went to call his name, but your voice caught in your throat when you realized you didn’t have a name to call. And.

And.

Something hit your shirt. A water droplet. You looked up into the clear, blinding blue sky. Your nerves tickled as another droplet ran down your cheek. Oh, you were crying. Huh.

You took the closet seat you could find, counting the things processed by your 5 senses. It’s all you could do to not start bawling for no reason. Maybe you’ll calm down and be able to think straight soon.

Why can’t you think straight? Everything feels so fuzzy.

You should be terrified, and in a way, you were. In your heart of hearts, you knew the truth: Little Boy wasn’t real. Or at least turned back into a coyote and ran off.

As you stared vacantly into the open air, you realized you still had a dripping popsicle in your hands. Supposedly “Tweety Bird” shaped, it just looked like a yellow skull missing its mandible bone to you. How fitting.

You pulled it to your mouth. Yum. Tasted like AAAAAAAA. Or orange, according to the package.

Attempting to lick the melted yellow liquid off of your hand, you accidentally stuck the ice pop on your face. Great. Now you’re sticky all over.

God, you’ve really gone and lost your fucking marbles this time, haven’t you.

There was a bulletin kiosk a few feet down your field of vision. On that bulletin kiosk was an old poster, barely visible as it was buried under layers of other flyers. It caught your eye and seemed to burn your retinas. What little you could see was the word Freddy and part of what looked like a version of the bear you’d been toting around this whole little expedition, but that was enough.

Something clicked. You looked down at the bear hanging by your side in your other hand. The kid had shoved it into your arms so he could more easily lean on the display case, right before he disappeared the very moment you took your eyes off of him.

You know, you hadn’t really felt alone since bringing Fredbear home. And not in a good way.

Guess the name you should’ve been calling was Freddy.

You had to get rid of that bear.

***

You had been walking home like you always did, same route. But you noticed something peculiar about this time. The house that the old man had his yard sale in was now stripped of all decoration, with a For Sale sign proudly standing in the grass. No cars, and no blinds or curtains on the windows, so you could see into the den which was now devoid of any furniture.

You’ll admit it, you crept around to the other windows, searching for any signs of life at all in the empty rooms. None. No furniture, no people, no trash. The yard sale was yesterday. How did they clean this place out so thoroughly in the short amount of time between when you’d seen it last and now.

A little confuddled, you went home as usual. While strange as hell, this wasn’t a missing person’s case or anything. And it’s probably why the man was so adamant on giving you Fredbear because it was the end of the day. He had a deadline. He was skipping town.

God, you wished you could just skip town.

You frankly thought nothing of it when you unlocked the door to your apartment to see Fredbear was already seated on the couch, like he was all set to marathon whatever 30-year-old cartoon you wound up watching that night. And it’s not like your roommate hadn’t done something like this before, move a stuffed animal or action figure into a funny position for you to find later.

You hadn’t seen him much lately. Or like, at all. The only reason you knew he was still alive were the dirty dishes in the sink, dirty clothes on the floor of the bathroom, and the aforementioned moving the bear around.

Looking back now, was he moving the bear around?

If you locked the deadbolt that can’t be unlocked from the outside, you’d be guaranteed to catch him in person for once. But you weren’t willing to go through the trouble and emotional toil of doing that, however.

In the name of feeling less like a ghost haunting your own home, getting yelled at for intentionally locking your roommate out might be a wee bit counterproductive. Sure, you’d be seen and spoken to, but the harshness of his words and tone would send you into a worse episode than you were already in.

Well, at least Fredbear seemed ready to keep you company tonight...

The fact that they put unskippable advertisements on streaming services you’re paying for in the first place is criminal. Or at least regular cable tv in a trenchcoat.

You got a drink while they prattled on about luxury cars you couldn’t afford and real estate companies you weren’t going to have the privilege of patroning any time soon. Embarrassingly, as you poured the pitcher of water into a glass, you got a little distracted.

The cheap glass’s glass was only about a millimeter or two thick. You could easily just crush this cup in your hand, in one swift movement. The muscles of your arm began tensing up at the thought.

But thankfully, a loud, blaring advertisement coming from the TV snapped you out of it. And so, you promptly decided to Not Do That, because picking all of those tiny glass shards out of your flesh would be a bitch. And that was not how you wanted to spend a perfectly good Sunday night. And of course you didn’t need the questions at work tomorrow.

You returned to the couch, curiously, and you swear, that damn teddy bear followed you with its eyes. Even though they were a shiny, solid black, and the idea itself would be insane.

As you settled back down, you grabbed the remote to turn down the volume of the cheery music playing. Mysteriously, it wasn’t just a commercial with bad sound mixing, the TV itself had been turned up. Now that it had your attention, the thing that was being sold to you seemed to the state of Utah. You know, those Visit [X] ads that were commonly played between cooking shows and ghost hunting documentaries.

“Oh hey, you’re from there, right?” you poked at fredbear. And immediately felt pathetic. God, you’ve got to stop talking to inanimate objects and like get a boyfriend or something. Geez.

The imagery on the screen was just, you know, normal southwest stock footage:

A drone shot of Zion national park

Old men golfing

Owls living in holes they’ve dug into cactuses

Rock archways

A family laughing as they shared a pizza being served to them by a man in a bear suit that looked just fredbear,

“Oh, well there you are, I guess.” you once again absent-mindedly spoke to your toy friend.

Kids swimming in a fancy resort pool

A Navajo cultural event

More rock archways and red sandstone cliffs

Kids crowding around a claw machine filled with toys just like the one sitting next to you

Kids crowding around a stage as an animatronic band played

Kids crowding around a birthday cake, the light of candles bouncing off their faces as they sang along…

The fake sounding voice of the announcer rung out, “Visit Utah! You know the party can’t start without you!”

Your mouth felt dry. Good thing you now had that glass of water.

***

Of course, you did what any smart, sane person would do and feverishly ripped through the layers of old flyers to get to the advertisement for what you now knew was Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place. A themed diner and nickel arcade that made most of their money hosting birthday parties, by the looks of it. You knew the type; you had been an American child once too.

Good thing none of the cops were hanging around outside to fine you for littering, because the amount of paper you just released into the breeze was in fact criminal.

There was a short list of locations at the bottom of the poster. They had a few scattered over Utah, or at least they used to, judging by the harsh weathering of this poster. The closest one being in Bigwater, explaining why this poster was out here in Tuba. But the word Hurricane stood out to you like it was lit up in neon. It burned like sunlight.

It appears you are in fact on your way to Hurricane, Utah. As if you didn’t know that already at this point, you being out on the canyon rim instead of your much preferred and beloved Rockies. Well, congratulations bitch. You’ve only got another three hours to go. Better get going. Have fun!

***

Oh, this place was creepy as hell. Or it’s just late at night, and you’re sleep deprived and paranoid. In the spirit of being honest to yourself, ‘sleep deprived and paranoid’ has always been your natural state of being, but right now it’s definitely ramped up to an eleven.

But even though it’s been close to 48 hours since your last brain-reset, this place still had a certain energy about it. Like New Orleans, or the woods around lynching bridges did. That spooky oh I am Not Safe here type of energy.

The gas station-man gave you a real weird look when you stormed in and asked where the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place was. Normally you would’ve chalked it up to you being a clear foreigner asking for directions as if it’s 1995, to a children’s arcade close to midnight nonetheless, but now you weren’t so sure.

You eyed the fridge full of wine in pint sized bottles and little juice cartons. But nah, you probably needed to have a quick reaction time to whatever was waiting for you in this Venus flytrap you’re willingly walking into. You grabbed a Monster instead and you know what, yeah, that probably wasn’t the best decision either. If you weren’t high strung before, you definitely were now. You felt like you could punch a bear. A Freddy Fazbear.

You bought a local map alongside the energy drink, feeling like you were gonna need it. Man, low-tech was actually kinda annoying after a while. You got the gas station-man to begrudgingly mark Fazbear’s down onto it for you. Apparently, it and all other locations within town had closed down some twenty years ago. Not many people are still around who remember why, he said, but it had something to do with the faulty animatronics. Teenagers told ghost stories and dared each other to spend the whole night in the dining room. But otherwise, beyond the rumors, the original Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place was just an empty, scorched building. And the other various locations like Jr’s or Circus Baby’s had been sold off, passing so many hands who knows what businesses were in there now. But you could still kinda tell, if you paid attention, in the same way you can tell if something used to be a Pizza Hut.

What you really wanted, according to gas station-man, whose nametag read Gary, was this new location that was opening soon, simply named Freddy’s Pizzeria. It’s set to open for business in September, so you’re lucky. He marked it one your map as well.

You don’t know why Gary was so nice to you. Maybe it was the harrowed look in your eyes. Maybe it was the twitchiness. Maybe Gary is just very bored of this tourist town and was looking to fall madly in love with a random troubled soul he met at midnight in a gas station and would wind up running away with to some far-off place. If that was the case, sorry Gary. You were too busy with the metaphorical torture labyrinth to care about romance at the moment.

You couldn’t decide if the haunted Fredbear would want to see an old location or the new one. You asked, but of course the fucker didn’t answer. Just sat there with his smug grin and glassy eyes that followed your hand movements. So, you quite literally tossed a coin. A new mint, the face side had Eleanor Roosevelt on it. And she marked the fact that you were going to try the new location first, and then try the original building next. Cool.

***

Your patience was kinda at its limit here, you’ll admit. You really should get some sleep soon. Or eat. Since you were hellbent on getting here and nothing else, the only thing on your stomach besides that wretched Tweety Bird popsicle is half a monster energy. Guess you’ll go by a fucking Denny’s after this. If you survive.

If you were going to die horrifically, you’d really rather the forces that be make it snappy. This was getting ridiculous.

You pulled into the parking lot. The building clearly wasn’t new but had been freshly painted. Nothing creepy so far. As you stared down the building, sizing it up, you noticed there was one car parked in the front, and a few of the windows were lit up.

Cool, so there was someone in there. Great. That makes, well whatever this is, much harder.

The door was locked.

You could hear music playing from inside. You banged on the door as loudly as you could manage, and it still took a couple of minutes before the music stopped. And then a very disgruntled man in coveralls was in the doorway, tiredly asking just what the fuck you wanted at this time of night.

He smiled to cover up his rudeness, but the smile stretched a little too wide, inhumanly wide, and a shiver ran down your spine.

You took him in, unashamedly raking your eyes over his form. He stood awkwardly, as if ready to bolt at any moment. What you could see of his build made him out to be weirdly skinny. That unnaturally wide smile gave way to some exposed teeth on the left side of his face. His eyes were shadowed by his bangs in the backlight of the door, but you swore they almost glowed themselves. His complexion was greyish and bordered on almost purple in this lighting.

Despite all this, he was still pretty handsome. Well, you did always think some of those creepypasta guys were boyfriend material. Maybe, you wouldn’t mind getting chopped up into little pieces if this guy was the one doing it. Okay, and maybe you’ve been sleeplessly chasing ghosts too long.

Startling you, he reached his hand to grab your shoulder, a little too fast.

“Hey mate, are you okay?” He asked nervously,

It snapped you out of your stupor, realizing you had yet to say a word to him, “Uh, yes, I just wanted to…”

How do you even fucking ask this. “Hey, can I bring a stuffed bear to your dining room so maybe it’s spirit will leave me alone? Maybe conduct a séance or something?” Seriously, did you even know what you were doing here? Shit. Okay.

“I wanted to ask if I could check out your facility?” came out like a question because even you had no clue what you were saying.

“Come back tomorrow in the daylight, then,” he began closing the door, shaking his head in annoyance, “or perhaps when we’re actually open.”

“NO!” you slammed your foot into the door as he closed it, “AAGH!”

“Jesus Christ! WHY.”

Dear lord, this man now 100% thinks you’re a crackhead.

“Just, don’t close that door, okay,” his brows scrunched together as you grit your teeth to swallow down the pain, “I need you to help me.”

“I really don’t have any money to spar--”

“I’M HERE BECAUSE OF A GHOST,” you interrupted. Finally, you managed to get that out somehow, if nonsensical.

A look of recognition flickered in his glowing eyes. He lowered into your space, kind of intimidatingly. Or intimately. Yeah, no, this was hostile, don’t fool yourself.

“What kind of ghost,” he asked suspiciously.

“Uh,” shit, okay, “the weird, haunted doll kind? Uh, like the ones the McElroy brothers are always bidding on on eBay. Or maybe this is kind of a Ben Drowned kinda situation, I’m not completely sure.”

He blinked, “okay, I only understood a few of those words, but—”

“It’s a Freddy teddy bear that really wanted me to take it to Hurricane, okay?” You really were at the end of your rope at the moment, “I have literally driven here for days straight on no sleep and barely any food and I need this Unauthorized Fucking Thing to find it’s eternal peace or kill me in some horrible way so I can hurry up and get on with my goddamn life,”

“Uh, see… the thing is,” he started to retreat back again, slowly moving his hands like he was trying to calm down a spooked animal.

 You realized what was about to happen, and it must have been visible in your eyes, since his huge unnatural placating smile returned,

“I actually don’t want anything to do with that, sooo…”

“PLEASE—” you reached out in blind panic, but he dodged it. (now if only you could’ve dodged the scooper like that Mikey)

The door slammed in your face.

Your breathing was ragged and fogged up the glass as he locked it again. You stared up at those glowing pinprick pupils of his as he gave you an apologetic little wave goodbye. And then he fucking made a big show of pointing at the closed sign before turning tail to disappear back into the darkness of the empty restaurant.

Okay.

Just a little setback. You’ll go to the older location first, now, and come back when this asshole is sleeping. Can’t be too hard to bust out one of those windows, and you doubt he has an alarm set up already. It’s his fault, really. If he didn’t want property damage, then he should’ve just let you in. Not like you haven’t warned him that you were desperate or anything.

Just gonna go to the other location. You’ve got your map, you’ve got a tank full of gas, and you’ve got chutzpah.

Now what you don’t have? Is a car that will start.

[milliesfishes]

love that your mind went there and loved yours for billy - yes plz alex with a girl who gets panic attacks

⋆౨ৎ𝓪𝓵𝓮𝔁 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓪 𝓹𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓬 𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓪𝓬𝓴⋆౨ৎ 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓪𝓵𝓮𝔁 𝓷𝓲𝓵𝓼𝓮𝓷 (tw- description of a panic attack)

The car ride was lengthy, only adding to your anxieties piling up on each other. Your knee bounced where you sat in the passenger seat, and every sense in your being became as blurry as the scenery whipping by.

Reasoning unknown, drives, especially long ones, had always put you on edge. You had a childhood history of panic attacks both great and small, your family determining the root of the cause rather quickly.

Traffic, though lengthy, hadn't been as great a burden as Alex had predicted, and now the two of you were sailing down the highway. He'd turned the radio back on, switching to a station you liked. It was touching he knew such a little detail about you since your relationship was newly minted. But right now you could hardly focus on the sweetness of the gesture. The music was only adding to your panic, flowing through your ears as noise rather than melody.

It seemed as though you'd tried everything. Clenching and unclenching your fists, breathing in and out, counting to a hundred. None of it was working, your frenzied mind only working itself up more over the fact that you weren't feeling better.

Alex reached over, settling a hand on your thigh and keeping one hand on the wheel, his eyes flickering from the empty highway briefly to look at you. "Everything okay, baby? You're quiet."

"Mhm." You were hardly capable of words, mind too preoccupied with your internal struggle. It felt as though there were walls closing in around you, the air draining from an invisible oxygen tank.

Besides your inability to express yourself, you didn't want Alex to know of your struggle. It felt like too big a thing to thrust on him so soon into this. Even though you'd known him for years before kissing for the first time, never once had you needed to breach the subject. Your little quirk remained just that, and your pain was silent. But now it was being tested.

It was as though the tension in your body was radiating outwards, energy grabbing hold of everything surrounding you. Your heart thrummed mercilessly in the chamber of your chest, only serving as a reminder of your panic. You took in a shaky breath through your nose, releasing it from your barely parted lips. It was fruitless, just like the last hundred intakes you'd attempted.

When the car hit a slight bump in the pavement, every facet of self control went out the window. Your hand flew to his on your thigh, squeezing, nails biting his knuckles, a single word escaping in a whimper you immediately regretted. "Alex."

He fully took his eyes from the road, going round as twin full moons as he took in the state of you. In a smooth movement, he turned the wheel, swerving to the side of the road. You were already letting go of his hand, pushing the car door open and stumbling out, hands finding their way around your waist as you heaved for breath. It felt like emerging to the surface after drowning.

Your hair fell over your face like two curtains as you bent your neck, breaths gaining tone at their severity. Tears stung your eyes, not only from your distress, but from the shock of embarrassment that radiated through your body like a heat wave. All this fuss over a little car ride? You were reminded painfully that you didn't even know why.

Footsteps pattered behind you, and then the steady comfort of your boyfriend was right at your side, taking one of your hands in his. "Hey...it's okay. What do you need?"

You let out a choked cry, turning suddenly into his arms and burying your face in his chest. His arms immediately slid around you, holding your shaky body gently, as if he wasn't sure what to do. Alex pressed a kiss to your hair, rubbing your back carefully. "Shh, I've got you. I've got you."

An unidentified amount of time passed with him simply holding you, whispering something sweet into your hair every so often. You sniffled, lifting your head. He was looking right at you, eyes filled to the brim with concern. You flushed, remembering your humiliation.

"Hey-" Alex settled his hand on your crown when you rested your face back into his chest. "It's okay. You know that, right?"

"I'm sorry-" you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

"Don't. Please." He stroked your hair soothingly. "You can't control it." Alex pressed a hand to your spine, rubbing without moving his hand. "Do you know why it happened?"

"Car rides," you mumbled. "I always get anxious during car rides. Long ones."

He drew back to look at you. "Why didn't you say anything? Baby-" The look on your face told him everything he needed to know. "What will help you? How can it be better?"

You sniffled, swiping a hand under your eye to catch a fallen tear. "Breaks help. So I can stretch my legs. Really I would have been fine but..."

"The traffic," Alex concluded, exhaling softly. "Oh, baby..." His fingers lightly trailed from side to side, gracing your shoulder blades. Resting your head on his shoulders, you let the remnants of your hiccups fade away. He pressed his lips to your hair, nose nudging your part. "How about we make a deal?"

You lifted your chin. "A deal?"

"Mhm." His fingers are tracing your jaw, thumb rubbing the bone. "You tell me when you're not feeling safe, and I'll help you."

"That's not really a deal." You furrowed your brow. "That's-"

He raised his eyebrows at you, a skeptical look on his face. "It's a deal. You get to feel safe and I get to not feel guilty about you suffering in silence."

You pursed your lips, moved by his point. "Fine. Deal."

"Yeah? Good?" Alex held your head to his lips, kissing your forehead firmly. "You put up with my anxiety enough, so I'll help you with yours. That's what boyfriends do."

"I'm not putting up with anything," you shook your head. "I love you, it's not-" you cut yourself off, realizing what he was saying. "Oh."

"Uh huh." He was smiling now, swaying you back and forth. "This is us, baby. We help each other."

Your worries had such an effect on you that it was hard to believe that anyone would bear your burdens alongside you. But here Alex was, cupping your cheeks in his big hands, searching your eyes and asking if you'd be okay driving a few more miles and then he'd stop and get you something to eat. That he'd make sure to drive slower, and would it make your anxiety worse if he drove with only one hand so he could hold yours?

Shaking your head, you leaned into him, taking a deep breath and letting his scent wash over you. In his arms you forgot your panic for the first time in the longest while. In his arms, all was well.

[according2thelore]

hi hello do you think it's plausible that dean's obsession with the magic fingers is even more hindbrain than he or sam ever could've guessed, and is based strictly on the very very early days post-fire when john would put his two fussy children in the middle of the bed and feed the meter so that it would vibrate them to sleep, just like a car ride on a gravel road would, so that he could leave and not worry about them waking up? 'cause I do...

👋👋 😈🎉 cilla/mdbp 💜

HI CILLA

WHY YES NOW I AM 800% thinking about this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

everyone take a moment to love and appreciate @majordemonblockparty 's gigantic brain <3

this makes so much sense i'm going to WEEP because dean never really gets this again!!!!!

dean grew up with his head buzzing, feeling the rattle in his teeth, and knowing that they were safe. if they were moving, then monsters couldn't get to sammy or daddy or him. daddy only saw monsters when they stopped, so as long as they were moving, dean was safe.

sleeping felt tenuous if he wasn't falling asleep in the impala, because sometimes dad would shake him awake, snapping at him to get sammy's stuff together because they had to be out of town in five minutes.

and you're so right!!!!! john would set them in the middle of the bed, dean curled around sam with jealous six-year-old hands, and slip a few quarters--some of the only money he could scrounge together--because it was the only thing that relaxed dean like a switch had been flipped. it was the only thing that got sam to stop fussing, and they would sleep through the whole night if the bed was rattling like a almost 20-year-old car's suspension over a back road. he could sit outside without dean asking him where he was going or demanding he come back inside and just sit in complete silence, looking out at the parking lot and wondering what the fuck he was going to do.

and dean doesn't know why, but he sleeps best when dad's driving, all the way up to 2005 when he disappears. he sleeps okay, he supposes, the rest of the time, but it's not until he finally lets sam drive them the rest of the way through texas on their way to see bobby that he falls asleep so immediately and deeply that he wakes up 10 hours later blinking sun out of his eyes and in nebraska.

(for this reason, sam apologizes one time by asking if he can drive them the rest of the way to oregon because dean is so strung out and exhausted. dean snaps at him, but lets him do it, and dean sleeps for fourteen hours.)

it's that sense of safety, of home, that knocks dean out completely. he doesn't even notice, of course, he just chalks it up to baby's uncanny ability to know exactly what he needs at all times.

the closest things he can get to it on solid ground, he chases.

one time, he walks back out of a motel lobby and leaves sam floundering after him when the receptionist tells him that no, they took out the magic fingers years ago.

with his music in his ears and the rocking back and forth, the swoosh of metal and vibrating in the back of dean's brain, the buzz all the way down to his fingers, that's safety.

sam scoffs and rolls his eyes because he found home in other things. magic fingers annoy him more than anything, because dean always took him on smoother highways and switched lanes to avoid potholes when he was driving. sleep for him was the sound of dean's quiet breaths or the smell of cheap toothpaste or starch-scratchy motel sheets. (sam stands in a pharmacy for hours smelling all of the deodorants until he finds the closet one to dean's and rubs it on the inside of his pillowcase in order to sleep at stanford, but that's neither here nor there.)

for dean, it's magic fingers. or the closest he can get.

dean always volunteers for laundry duty on those dirty stop-over between hunts when they roll into a town for less than 12 hours to sleep and take a shower on the way to somewhere else.

sammy's already conked out on the bed, jeans and shoes and drowner guts still stuck to his neck with penny-tang lake water and sweat. dad just shrugs, eying the couch with the hungry eyes of a man that drove for sixteen uninterrupted hours to get them the hell out of dodge before the local feds showed up.

dean knows he won't sleep, even though he's so fucking exhausted, because while sam slept in the backseat, dean was pinching holes into his thigh to stay awake in case dad needed a relief driver.

so he guts his own duffle in the corner and fills it with their dirty laundry.

it's only when he's leaning against the washing machines with his back and can feel the rattle in his gums does he finally feel safe and at home enough doze off, the bored attendant at the front half-asleep themself.

the buzz of the laundry machine wakes him up, and now he gets to lean against the dryer, the artificial machine warmth feeling more like a mother than anything dean can consciously remember, so familiar to the low-humming of the impala that he curls up against it like a child.

they start phasing magic fingers out of motels to make way for wood composite bed frames and bare bulbs or slowly stop repairing them, and dean never really gets a good night of sleep again.

one night in the bunker, after a rough hunt where they can't save a young kid, dean slips out of his bedroom in the middle of the night, starts an empty load of laundry, and falls asleep with his cheek pressed against the warm metal, so tired he can't even cry.

cilla--mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah--you are so right all the TIMEEEE <3

-lizzy

[finalgirlfae]

slow ride, randall floyd

genre: smut

pairings: randall “pink” floyd x afab!reader

summary: a late night drive with randy floyd turns into a teenage dream.

“man i totally forgot we went to the same junior high man.” pink spoke, shaking his head and laughing a bit. he rested his free hand on car tray, picking up the joint you had lit. you two were currently driving down the practically empty freeway, just letting the wind in your face and some music play through his car’s speaker.

“who would’ve thought that i, randall pink floyd, would you be here, smoking a joint at midnight with the class of ‘77’s valedictorian? that’s crazy.”

you giggled a bit as you watched a car zip by. you and pink never really talked but you both ran into each other while party hopping and had been smoking in his car since and he was a cool dude. “we aren’t much different.” this was the first time you ever got to talk to him for real, and in the few short hours you were getting to greatly enjoy pink’s company. he was fun to talk to and nice to look at.

“we aren’t much different?” pink asked after taking a hit. he passed it back to you and took an exit. he then began to pull into an empty parking lot behind a closed down restaurant just off the highway. the top to his convertible was off, allowing the both of you to feel the slightly chill of a cool breeze whipping past your face due to the tall green trees that surrounded you.

he rested his arm that was on the wheel on the door of the car, looking at the trees in front of you in an almost deep thought. “you are the valedictorian..never seen at parties. never seen smoking a J. never caught dead in the bathroom with a cigarette. i didn’t even know you smoked!”

“it’s the 70s. who doesn’t smoke?” you shrugged, taking another hit and letting it flow out your mouth. the air felt so nice and the soft sounds of crickets chirping was so relaxing.

he nodded. “true. but still, you were kind of distant. just far off.”

you nodded slightly, recalling your last four years at lee high and acknowledging the slight solitude you allowed yourself to live in.

“i wasn’t a complete stranger, pink. we just ran in different circles, that’s all.” you shrugged again, why did he care so much about this?

“i ran in every circle-” he began but you cut him off with a laugh.

“but never to me!” you spoke. you unbuckled your seatbelt and turned to pink fully. “i’m friends with cynthia, mike and tony. i played poker with them all the time. you were there, you never spoke to me. i kind of just thought you just didn’t like me.” there was a slight teasing tone in your voice that made him lean a little closer to you.

pink denied this, shaking his head “that’s not it. i was just scared.”

“scared?” you laughed, “of what!”

“of you!” he laughed back. “you terrified me!”

you looked at him like he was crazy. “i terrified you?”

“yes,” he exasperated. “don’t look at me like that, you’re intimidating! you’re smart and you know what you want in life, you don’t take shit from anyone and you’re talented. you’re making it out of this town. i just thought you were great and it made me realize i wanna be great too.”

how did this drive turn into a compliment session? you smiled at him, slipping out of your heels and curling your legs up onto the passenger seat. pink watched you hug your knees and lean forwards to him. “if you think i’m so great then how come you never talked to me? intimidating or not, what did you have to lose?”

“yeah right. then i’d say some stupid jock shit and just embarrass myself in front of the pretty girl.” his tone was laced with sarcasm and he turned away from you and back to the steering wheel, almost putting the car in drive.

“you think i’m pretty?”

he laughed and took his hands off the wheel, turning back to face you. he leaned closer to you, looking at your lips and then back into your dazed eyes. “i think you’re pretty.” he confirmed like a common known fact. “i think you’re really sexy too. in this, smart and beautiful way. this powerful way. you walk into a room and people stare at you. you’re captivating. what’s not pretty about that? come on y/n, you know you’re the shit. act like it.”

you put the joint down on the ashtray and looked at pink before pulling him into a kiss by his jaw, running a thumb over his cheekbone. your lips moved against his slowly and you couldn’t beleive you were kissing randall floyd right now. “i always liked you, pink.” you muttered against his soft lips. “i always did.”

“really?” he asked after slowly pulling away from the kiss. he looked you up and down.

“yeah.” you nodded and laughed a little as he moved some hair out your face, something about that gave you butterflies.

“when did you like me?”

you cringed stay the answer you had to his question. “7th grade english class, you sat at the table over and i stared at you so hard that period i almost failed the class.” you laughed recalling how mad your mom was when you told her you’re failing english because you can’t stop looking at the cute baseball player at the next table.

“well, if it’s any consolation i flunked bio twice on purpose so they’d make you help me make up lab hours and i could be near you.” he put his arm behind your head rest and smiled at you. he was being serious.

your jaw fell slightly. “really? god pink you’re such a loser.” you giggled, smiling fondly at him.

“yeah,” he nodded. “i am.”

you shook your head. “think about how much time we wasted. i literally swore i was gonna marry you in 8th grade.”

“really?” he laughed.

“really!” you scooted closer to him and he watched your movements. “i wanted to fuck you so bad when i was younger.” you whispered the last sentence even though no one was around to hear you.

pink’s mouth slowly fell open. “..what?”

“why are you so shocked?”

“man i thought you just liked me. i didn’t know you wanted to do it.” his voice was pure confusion and shock.

you laughed and shook your head, turning away from him and looking at the trees in front of the car again. “guys are so stupid.”

“hey!”

“seriously pink? you didn’t know i wanted to have sex with you?” you turned your head to meet his utterly shocked face.

“i didn’t! frankly i didn’t know girls wanted to have sex at that point. when we were in high school i kind of figured that out but i never would’ve guessed that you of all people would’ve wanted me like that.”

you shrugged. “i still want you like that.”

the music stopped abruptly and you looked over to see pink pulling the keys out of the ignition and tucking them into his pocket. he stared out the window at the trees like you we’re doing before.

“get in the backseat.”

“what?” you laughed a little, leaning back in absolute shock at the bold statement. you felt the need to clench your thighs, your heart was beating a bit faster and your mouth had gotten sort of dry. there is was again, that school girl pining from junior high that followed you through high school. in the back of your mind, you never stopped like him.

“what.. what do you mean?” you babbled like a complete idiot. he smirked at you.

“i mean shut up,” he leaned over to you and then pressed a kiss to your lips. “turn around,” he kissed you again, “and get your ass in the backseat so i can fuck the shit out of you.”

you jaw dropped and he smiled at you. he could tell you’d never been spoken to like how he just had. truth be told, yeah you had sex once or twice in your entire high school career, but it was just so lame and you hadn’t found anyone else you wanted to fuck. the town was small. pink however was a desire through most of your teen years, you had started liking the boy all the way in 7th grade.

you climbed over the seats until you were in the back. pink he kicked off his shoes and crawled back there to you, he then moved next to where you were sat. his hands flew to your waist and you began kissing him, excited to see what he would do to you.

“i’ve always wanted you, y/n.” pink spoke in the kiss. his lips were the softest. “even in junior high.” he placed soft kisses down the right side of your neck earning a breathy moan. “fuck i had it bad for you then.” with closed eyes you hummed at what he was saying to you. pink was good at this, he knew how to talk to you in ways that were sure to make you wet.

you gasped as his you were being pulled on to his lap and he began to suck a hickey on to your collarbone. his hands slowly unzipped your jeans, giving you time to back out before pulling them off with ease and rubbing to fingers against your clothed pussy. “i would go home from baseball practice and think about you all night. wouldn’t get any sleep, just think about you and wonder what it’d be like to kiss you, touch you, taste you, fuck you.”

“pink-” you gasped at the sudden attention to your clit. he could definitely hear his fast your heart was beating

“i would have dreams about you...” pink muttered, slipping his hands into your panties. he rubbed your lips with two fingers before gently slipping one inside you. “you’re so wet.” he went back to kissing your lips, slowly pumping and curling one finger inside you. when felt your body relax a bit more, began to rotate his thumb on your puffy clit.

it was almost pathetic how your fucked your hips to meet his hand, you could feel his smile against your lips when you did this. “need me?” pink asked, kissing your jaw. he added another finger and curled them, pulling them out and slamming them back in a little rougher than he had done before. a moan escaped your lips as he began to hit an entirely different angle, a spot that made you clench around his fingers. you put your face into pinks neck, kissing it in attempt to hide your whimpers but you couldn’t. the more you tried to hide them the faster he fingered you.

“come on, let it out baby. i wanna hear you.” he slipped a third finger inside which made you absolutely lose your mind. you whined, pulling up from his neck and tossing your head back. his fingers fucked into you at a fast pace, calloused thumb circling your clit as your hands gripped on to his red shirt. you were basically riding his fingers. it was so desperate and needy like he had said.

“i’m gonna cum.” you let out another whine, sort losing control of your body and falling forward on his chest. pink sped up the motion on his fingers, holding your hip in his hand and coaxing you through your orgasm. you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him as you came all over his fingers. he slowly helped you ride out your orgasm, pulling his three fingers out slowly and making you whimper at the lost of contant.

you caught your breath and leaned back, watching as pink took her fingers and licked them clean. you clenched your thighs again and moved off his lap, opting to sit next to him. the two guys you fucked before never really fingered you before sex, it was always after when they failed to make you finish.

pink moved his fingers to his lips, sucking on them to taste you. your jaw fell a little and shock. you’d never seen someone do this.

you turned to press your back against the side of the car and grabbed his collar, pulling him into a kiss. your legs spread a bit, allowing him to crawl between them. the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against your pussy called your body to twitch a bit. pink noted it and smiled. you began to unbutton the boy’s red shirt, pulling it off to reveal his toned chest underneath.

you looked him up and down before running a hand across his chest. “i want you in me.”

he smiled at you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “soon, not yet. lie down.” pink grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and gazing at the way your boobs sat.

“you’re so pretty.” he muttered, beginning to kiss and suck your left boob while playing with the right. the way his calloused fingers rolled harshly against your nipples made you push your chest forward, wanting more from him. he kissed down your stomach, moving your legs apart and leaning down until he was face to face with your pussy.

pink took his time with you, he was in no rush. he slowly kissed up and down your thighs, nipping them at some point just to keep you excited. he brought his lips to your pussy, kissing your clit before licking a stripe up your pussy. you moaned softly and relaxed a bit, his heavy tongue was soft and slowly as he began to eat you out.

your head clouded a bit as your hand reached up to grip the seatbelt holder behind you. pink moved his face up slightly, circling his tongue on your clit before taking it into his mouth. your back immediately arched at the way he sucked on your clit. his eyes were closed in deep concentration, listening to every moan you made.

“fuck, just like that.” you moaned, reaching your free hand down to tug at him hair. you pulled his face closer to your pussy, grinding against him and showing him how you wanted to be eaten.

his hands squeezed at your boobs for a moment before gripping your hips. pink opened his lips from around your clit and flicked his tongue at it for a few seconds before sticking his tongue inside your pussy.

another moan spilled from your lips and you pushed him head up and down, using his face to get off. he thought it was so hot, the way you took control and used his face to please yourself. you came again, this time on his face and with a shiver.

you both pulled away to catch your breath, that was your second orgasm of the night in a very short time. the cool air tussled pink’s hair as he looked at you with pure lust and adoration in his eyes. you flipped over to your stomach, closing your eyes and taking a second to catch your breath again.

“we’re not done.” pink spoke. your turned your head slightly to see him from your peripheral vision. there was the russle of papers before felt hit fingers hit a small square. he showed you and you nodded your head, giving him unspoken consent to do as he said. fuck the shit out of you.

your heard him pull his belt off and saw it tossed on the floor, next the tug of his pants and boxers. finally, both of you were naked.

pink rolled the condom on to his dick, you hadn’t turned to see it so you had no idea how much was about to go inside of him. he saw your body stiffen as he mounted you.

“relax,” he leaned up, moving your leg to get a better angle of your pussy. pink moved hair from the left side of your neck, kissing slowly down your neck and back. “i got you.” he grabbed your hips, putting your legs to spread on either side of his body so he could fuck you with more control.

he lined himself up with your entrance before pushing in and making you take a shallow gasp. pink ran his hands up and down your back to try and help you relax.

“you feel so fucking good.” he muttered softly, playing with your ass. he sat in your for a second before pulling out and pushing back in again. this time you moaned a little and he could feel your body relax again.

pink began to set in at a slow pace, bringing his hips to your ass with every stroke. he let out soft groans with every other thrust he gave, quickening his pace a little bit as your pussy gripped around him.

“that feel good?” he asked in an almost teasing tone, leaning forward on your body and pressing himself against you as his hips continued to move against yours. you twitched underneath him, biting your lip in pure bliss at the angle he was hitting.

you could only let out a mumbled moan of pleasure as you closed your eyes. pink laughed a bit, pulling your hips up to bring you into doggy style. his hand went to your hair, tugging it back and beginning to fuck you much harder.

losing strength in your arms, you left your body dropped and your face push up against the mirror. he felt go of your hair and moved his hands back to your ass, rubbing it slightly before slapping it. you let out a straggled moan, “pink, fuck. do it again.” you whined, earning another slap on the ass.

you moaned loudly in pain, face now smushed against his window. pink laughed and you moved your hand down to your pussy, beginning to play with your clit. his thrusts sped up and the only thing you could think about was how good he filled you up. how perfect his cock fit in your pussy and how good he fucked you.

you felt tears brim at your eyes when he moved your hand away, beginning to stimulate your clit for you. he used his other free hand to play with your nipple. so much was happening at once and you couldn’t even warn pink before you came around him with a sigh. you felt bad, he had made you finish three times and you couldn’t even wait long enough for him to catch his release.

“ ‘m sorry.” you muttered. he laughed a little and slowly pulled out of you.

“it’s okay.” pink sat on the seat, putting his head back as you both collected yourselves slightly. you crawled over to pink, sitting in his lap and straddling his waist.

he looked at you immediately, putting his hands on your hips and drumming fingers against your skin.

“i thought about you too. you reached behind you and gently touched pink’s cock, stroking it slowly as you moved it to like you with your entrance.

you dragged the head back and forth between your folds. “i wanted to jump your bones. then high school came and i saw you in the football uniform.” you both let out a groan as you sunk on to him, ass now pressed against his balls.

you dragged your hips back and forth, bouncing on his cock. pink’s eyes fluttered close and he pressed his lips together, breath heavier than before. you decided to mimic him. you used your hand to tilt his head forward to you. he opened his eyes when he felt your thumb brush against his lips. “come on, let it out baby. i wanna hear you. i wanna hear your pretty moans.”

pink moaned at your words immediately making you give yourself a proud smile. your core and thighs burned, and your pussy felt overstimulated but it didn’t matter. he had fucked the shit out of you so now you were returning the favor.

“the girls and i used to have chats after your games, each talking about how they wanted to fuck you.” you smoothed your hands over his chest. “they said so many dirty things about you, pink. i was thinking the same things as them.” you giggled at the way his hips rutted to your body. he was fucking himself into you.

“now i’m here in the backseat of your car riding you, and you feel so fucking good.”

pink let out a broken moan. “please y/n- fucking- shit!” you let out a yelp when both his arms wrapped around you and lifted you up with ease. he pressed your back against the front seat which folded forward, immediately allowing him to climb on top of you. he threw your leg over his shoulder, slamming his hips into yours. his eyes were closed and his lips were parted, saying your name like a prayer.

“fuck i’m cumming.” he moaned. pink’s thrusts soon became messier as both of you came together. there was a moment of silence, the only sound being your uneven breaths and the crickets of the night. pink’s face was pressed into your neck and your arms hugged him to your body. he was keeping you warm on the cool night.

“…did i really just have sex with the quarterback in the back of an el camino?” you asked yourself out loud. staring at the sky.

“did i really just have sex with the valedictorian in the back of my el camino?” he muttered from the side of your neck. you both laughed and stayed like that for another moment before he pulled out of you.

“that was the best sex i’ve ever had.” pink breathed, looking around the car to find his clothes.

you smiled. “really?” he was an attractive guy so definitely had girls in bed before.

he nodded and pressed a kiss to your lips. “really. do you wanna drive around and get some breakfast?” he knew the sex was better because of the previous crush he had on you and how much chemistry you two had.

you nodded. “there’s a lake just pass the trees. wanna freshen up first?”

pink looked at you. “are you asking me to go skinnydipping with you into the lake?”

you nodded.

he smiled. “definitely.”

you two grabbed your clothes, took your keys and headed down to lake. the cool water refreshed you both and you got a good look at the sunrise. usually after sex it was kind of awkward, but with pink it was fun. the two of you swam around the lake, giving each other kisses and playing around until finally deciding to get out.

you both got dry and got dressed, smoking another joint on the way to a diner near the center of town. undoubtedly, both your friend groups were there, each nursing some kind of hangover or ache from the wild night before.

you sat in the booth next to pink, a cup of hot chocolate in your hand. you took a sip and then rested your head in his shoulder, giving a content sigh and closing your eyes.

“tired?” he asked, looking at you.

“very. you?”

he shrugged. “for you? i could go another round.”

you laughed and snuggled into him closer. pink put his hand in your thigh, rubbing it up and down before holding your hand and pulling it on to his lap. he kissed the side of your temple and allowed you to fall asleep on him whilst your friends chatted around you. it was peaceful.

[pray4saint]

Dream Team and chuckle sammy guys reacting to the reader taking the cowboy hat off their head and wearing it? Sorry if thats confusing smdnf. (like the cowboy hat rule :p)

dteam & chuckle sammy with the cowboy hat rule

dteam masterlist & chuckle sammy masterlist & descrip. tv-ma. 15+. gn!reader. implied and short depictions of sex.

a/n. omg i love this

dream

of course the cowboy hat rule was something dream was aware of, he heard it around his high school friends and as we all know, teenage boys are stupid

but when you and dream are doing a road trip (haha see what i did there), singing karaoke, and you take his hat from him, the memory of being told the cowboy hat rule floods back

since there isn't any way to pull off the road right away, he lets you get away with it until he sees the next pull-off from the highway

he turns the music down and looks at you

”baby, you know you gotta ride the cowboy right?” ”wh-” you start to laugh, ”what?” ”it's the rule, c'mon you remember how it went in school right? you wear the cowboy's hat, you ride the cowboy.” you looked around, realising your boyfriend had picked a pull-off that was rather secluded. ”you sick son of a bitch.” of course clay knew you meant it as a joke. ”i know i'm so clever.”

he climbs over the console to your seat, figuring you over his lap with the seat laid back and pushed away from the dash

lots of heavy breathing, car shaking and clay praising you

for awhile afterwards you just lay with your head in the crook of his neck

”you ready to get back on the road?” you lift your head up with a dopey smile, breathing finally steady. clay chuckles, ”yeah. definitely.”

sapnap

sapnap knows the rule better than he should, it was something he'd heard around school a lot growing up (about 7th-ish grade probably)

i think with sap, you take his hat while you two are out at a bar, a cowboy-themed bar ofc

when you pluck the hat from his head, he doesn't miss a beat when turning to you

he leans in real close to your ear, ”really love, don't you know the cowboy hat rule?” your face turns pink, of course you knew the rule, you just forgot about it. ”sap we're in public..” ”and i woulda thought you'd be ecstatic.” he fakes a face of hurt. ”i am, i'm just good at hiding it.” he smirks and you wink at him

absolutely makes the quick decision that there are too many men in there staring at you for a secret fuck and walks you back out to his car in front of him

slides in the passenger seat and again, without missing a beat, slides the seat back, pushing the upper part back just a bit so you have more room to move around on his lap

pretty much just helps your slip your pants off and moves your underwear to the side while pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to get his cock out

afterwards he takes you home, he doesn't really care about drinking at the bar when he just got laid over a hat

george

george learned the cowboy hat rule when it first started making headway on social media, and the idea of it ever happening to him excited him

he didn't expect his best friend to tell you that / ofc dream had only told you because of a video they were planning to shoot

at the end of the video, when george went to take the hat off, you told him to wear it back to your house because you had a surprise for him and he obliged, although admittedly confused

definitely a little bit amazed when you shut the front door just after him, stealing the cowboy hat from atop of his head

”wha- y/n what are you doing?” he kind of laughed, watching you wrap your arms around his neck. ”following the rules. you know one right? wear the cowboy hat..” you trailed off, letting him finish the sentence. ”..ride the cowboy.” he was almost breathless as he let the words fall from his lips

you two walk back to your room without separating from each other, smiling against the other's lips

it's pretty quick that you end up in your bedroom with george lying underneath you, watching you with such anticipation you can tell dream was right

afterwards he asked you how you thought of it

”dream told me.” you boyfriend immediately sat up, face flushing. ”he did?” he didn't wait for your response. ”i'm gonna kill him, he's so stupid.” ”so you didn't like it?” you fake hurt in your voice, ”of course i liked it, matter of fact i loved it-” ”so give dream a break, he was just trying to be a good friend.”

ted

wore the hat to make a tiktok video, and after he's done recording he sits down to edit it, still wearing the hat, you take it from him, placing it on your head and you give him a quick twirl

for a split second the whole thing eludes him, aside from a small smile he gives you

he returns his attention to his phone and then remembers, the cowboy hat rule

then he's up, stepping real close to you, placing his arms around your middle

”m'love, d'you know what taking my hat means?” you give him a confused expression, lifting the hat up your head in just the slightest ”no, what's it mean?” leaning in real close to your ear, he tucks your hair behind your ear and smiles, whispering, ”wear the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy.” you shiver at the words

you try to take the hat off, to get away but ted's already got a hand over your head, telling you that you can't give it back, it's too late

ted moves the hand over your head to your hand, intertwining your fingers while he leads you back to the couch

he falls back onto the couch, and helps you settle in a straddle position, he rubs circles into your thighs while reminding you of the rule, just to taunt you

he also probably forgets about the tiktok when all is said and done

charlie

probably happens while he's recording a silly little video, and he's wearing a cowboy hat for obvious slimecicle reasons

you have to remind him of the cowboy hat rule once he makes a little play fuss about you taking the hat from him

”oh c'mon, don't you remember the cowboy hate rule?” ”huh?” you get in real close to his ear to whisper, ”take the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy.”

he gets nervous, but obviously he'd never say no to you

lets you lead him back to the bedroom but when you push him back onto the bed, he pulls you down with him before figuring you up to straddle him

you kind of shy-stall while you're straddling your boyfriend, grinding your hips down into his ”what happened to all that confidence earlier?” you whine, rolling your hips again. ”c'mon baby, ride the cowboy.” he winks at you

charlie ends up having to rerecord the video, but even that takes him a few tries because he's having a hard time focusing with the cowboy hat

definitely becomes a little secret language between you two, putting the hat on your head when you feel like riding him

schlatt

happens at a party for sure, and of course schlatt knows the rule well, and he smirks just thinking about it

quick to remind you about the cowboy hat rule before getting up and grabbing your hand, walking out to the car with you

”schlatt no, there are people here! they could see us!” ”you know the rule dollface, you take the hat, you ride the cowboy.” you whine at his words, ”i don't make the rules hon.”

definitely a quickie, as the both of you want to return to the party but still all the fun, with you left lying on his chest, panting

”i should do that more often.” schlatt just smiles like an idiot at your words

you both walk back into the party covered in hickeys with no hat to be seen on either of you

never again do you forget the cowboy hat rule

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.