#they want people to fuck the popcorn buckets

[monstrousdesirestudy]

First the Dune sand wormussy popcorn bucket, now this. They know what they are doing

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

may 10, 2013 6:00 p.m. the entrance to hell

is binn béal ina thost

sweet is the silent mouth

[avocado-writing]

Idk if you know Mortal Kombat, especially mileena (she's my favorite) but may I please get a Wolverine and/or Deadpool with a gf who has a mutation like Mileena.

She thinks she's ugly when she uses it but the boys think otherwise 🎀

(I'M LITERALLY IN HEAT EVERYTIME I THINK ABOUT THEM)

This is (my wife) Mileena

When Wade fights with you at his side, your carnage is always prefaced with a quiet request. 

“Please don’t look.”

And, because he is fundamentally a good dude, he doesn’t.

Fuck. He really wants to, though.

The noises that you make when he turns his back to focus on a different opponent are… interesting. It sounds like a bunch of really wet celery being snapped in half to a symphony of screams. When he’s done slicing people into teeny tiny chunks he turns around and sees you standing there in a pool of blood, trying to get the stain of it off your jacket.

He’s never been so curious about something in his entire life.

You’re so lovely. Loveliest thing he’s ever met. How the fuck he managed to convince you to give him a chance he’ll never know. God, the stars, and luck must have all been on his side that day, when after you’d finished taking down a cartel he’d asked you to grab a coffee and you’d said yes. Ever since then it’s been great. He loves spending days on window-shopping dates with you, fingers intertwined as he leaves you breathless with laughter; lazing on his sofa with some stupid rom-com playing with a bucket of popcorn between you both; snuggled in his usual corner booth at his favourite pizza place playing footsie beneath the table.

Perfect. You are perfect in every way.

So if all it takes is looking away when you ask him to then it’s a pretty easy compromise.

Unfortunately what you don’t take into account is that he is an idiot.

Wade catches the sight of you in the reflection of his katana the next time you’re out on a job. He’s just liberated some dude’s head from the rest of his body and is cleaning his blade when he spots you. 

And he cannot turn away.

Your mouth is open so wide it could rival a snake’s. Rows of jagged teeth which help you dismember the man who has been caught in the vine of your tongue, struggling to get away as he screams for help. When your jaws snap shut the man is silenced. You spit out the remains of his face onto the ground beside you like discarded gum.

“Holy shit!” says Wade. You squeak when you realise he’s caught the reflection of you, covering your mouth with both hands as it returns to its normal soft, kissable line.

“Oh no!” you whisper. Wade dispatches the last guy who’s running for him with a well-aimed bullet before coming to gather you in his arms.

“Baby, hey, it’s okay!” he says quickly when it’s obvious that you’re about to cry. You look up at him with glistening eyes.

“But Wade, I look so ugly,” you manage, “I thought… if you saw… you might not want to…”

Be with me any more, are the words which hang unspoken in the air. Wade guffaws.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Babe, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Your eyebrows crease together in confusion. He wants to use his thumb to smooth it out, but instead chooses to wipe a tear off your face.

“Yeah?”

“Of course! Shit, you’ve got that fuckin’ Venom thing going on? Like Mileena from Mortal Kombat but sexier? Come on, I’d be a fool if I wasn't rocking a semi right now!”

This makes you laugh properly, from your stomach, and all your worry is forgotten.

“I shouldn’t have worried…” you sigh when you get your wits back.

“Nah, of course not. You’ll always be my boo, okay?”

You grin up at him, before an idea very clearly crosses your mind.

“Oh! That means now I can show you what my tongue can do.”

He isn’t proud of it, but that promise almost makes him cum in the suit.

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

[theorist-fox]

The concept of Bad Man Simon Riley who's aware he's a Bad Man™️ is one I hold very dear to me.

Masterlist 🦊

Simon Riley is, fully and completely, what people envision as a bad man. He's a convoluted character who carries a lot of baggage, and that same weight has crushed him into the beast he is today.

His reflection is his constant reminder of the bad things he's done and endured. And when you have such a blatant, ever-present memento of how dark you really are, it's hard to forget.

He doesn't bother putting up a facade. Won't help the lady cross the street, nor will he take a bullet for someone else. No one has ever done that for him, so it's only natural to give the world a taste of its own medicine. He doesn't even try; it just happens.

It takes him nothing to leave Soap behind in Las Almas and find shelter in an abandoned church. Sure, he'll cover for him—if the lad is fast enough, that is. Saving Alejandro afterwards is a mere ploy to make this blasted mission end sooner—true, no one fights alone, but he'd like to get out of there as soon as possible, thank you very much.

Barely brushes the concept of Price's injury when he faints due to the inhalation of some Sarin gas of sorts. Can only think that if he'd died, he would have to take the captain's place in leading the operation. A fucking bummer alright—but cap's fine, thankfully, right? One less thing to worry about now.

Won't try to start relationships, because what good can he bring when he can't even drop a kind word for himself? He's awful, inside and out, and he's aware.

What happens, then, when he's suddenly loved?

What happens, then, when you're sliding under his skin, pretending you don't see the rot and the grime?

The question of "why" is pinned to the front of his brain like an annoying leech that plagues him day and night.

On the couch, you're absolutely unbothered by his dark presence next to you. You're just munching on popcorn and watching some film he doesn't even remember the name of.

"Y'should go," he says out of the blue.

You barely spare him a glance. "Film's not over yet."

No, that isn't what he meant, but he has an inkling that you've gathered that already.

"Ain't good for ya," he insists. "Ain't good for anyone, but that's a whole 'nother story."

You side-eye him from your end of the couch. "Self-deprecating at dinner time? Could you move it up the schedule a little, like—breakfast or somethin'."

He doesn't understand. Won't get through his skull. Share a home with him, and for what? What's he giving you that you're coveting so hard, enough to find it easy to snark back at a beast like him—poking the bear while wearing flimsy cotton shorts and a band t-shirt?

"Y'don't understand," he grits out. "I ain't a good man, love."

"Oh, I know." You say, popping a handful of popcorns in your mouth. "And?"

It irks him. Wants to bite off your head, but, surprisingly, he still has morals, and he wouldn't even dare touch you with ill intent.

"Don't act stupid, now." He warns.

"Ain't acting stupid." You reply as if there is some obvious thing he isn't getting. "You've done bad things, and bad things were done to you. That it?"

He hums as a frown paints his face.

"Should I love you less?" You go on, "Or not love you at all?"

"The latter."

"Wrong." You add as soon as he responds. "Wrong, because that's what you believe, not the truth."

He cocks a brow at your apparent arrogance. A nod in your direction, "What's the truth, then?"

You place the bucket of popcorn on the coffee table. "Truth is that you're human, Simon."

Now that's a word he wouldn't associate with himself.

Monster. Beast. Bear. Wraith, or demon. Ghost.

"As a person, good and bad can coexist—there is no such thing as night and day." You go on, seemingly unaware of the turmoil you've unleashed on his poor heart.

Keep saying the word person around him this often, and he'll start believing he is one.

So, you have seen the rotten flesh and the mud coating his insides. You have buried your hands in his viscera and coated your skin with his blood and the one he's spilled.

You know, and yet you're here. You're here because you've also seen something else, something he's not aware is there.

Same thing that made his heart lurch when Price wasn't waking up. Same thing that made him hide, prone in the bell tower of a Mexican church, making sure Soap would get back in one piece.

Same thing that has him gaze at you now, with eyes that sting with clear, fresh water. No rotting liquid, no oozing pus, or sickening blood.

You shrug, "Maybe your sun is a little eclipsed, but there's that. I can still see it, y'know?"

You outstretch your leg. Press the tips of your toes against his thigh. The world is suddenly in technicolor, and his chest warms like a rekindled flame.

You wink. "And it's bright as hell, too."

[thatturtleleon]

TFP Game Night HCs

note: getting back into writing and stuff on here! aka procrastinating studying and yapping about transformers instead

Game night hcs! -

Miko and Jack pretty much fight every game

Jack's pretty chill until he loses multiple games

Rafs just sitting there watching them fight (grabs popcorn bucket)

monopoly ends with at least 2 people crying

always

the humans introduce twister and Ratchet is horrified at the way human bodies can twist and turn like that

uno also ends with at least 2 people crying

Miko wanted to make a bot sized jenga game

Bulkhead considered it but said no bc he was afraid Miko would get squished if it fell

Ratchet enjoys scrabble until it turns into an argument if cybertronian terms count

Optimus enjoys chess or checkers w Jack, sometimes Raf will walk over and observe, Miko could give less of a fuck

frisbee was immediately banned when Arcee flung it into the tv accidentally

Bumblebee enjoys charades, he and Raf always win

the kids and younger bots get agent Fowler and June to join even if they were hesitant at first but they have a lot of fun

Miko is banned from monopoly, no i wont elaborate.

matter of fact monopoly was banned a few game nights in

later on Smokescreen asks why and gets no answer, forever wondering what the forbidden monopoly game is

[luveline]

Omg jade hii <3 I know it's not shy friday yet but can I request maybe eddie with a shy best friend who's secretly in love with him? 👉👈 up to you wether he notices or is oblivious. I love your fics sm thank u any way❤️

omg hii thank u for ur request, I guess it is shy friday now!! i hope u enjoy! fem!reader, 1k

Eddie grabs your hand as soon as he gets close enough, his delight to see you completely unshielded. "Holy shit!" he says, forgetting your hand to throw his arms over your shoulders. "I missed you so fucking much, never ever go on vacation again." 

"Eddie," you murmur reproachfully, though your arms have a mind of their own, wrapping around his back. 

"You're not allowed to leave me. I hate everybody who isn't you the longer you're gone, it makes me a bad person." 

Eddie steps back but keeps your shoulders in his hands. His eyes are soft and brown, but his excitement to see you has his pupils like pinpricks. His cheeks are quickly chapped in the cold wind blowing in through the doorway. 

"I bet it was warmer there, we're knee deep in winter now," he says. "You look like you had a good time." 

"It was good," you agree, sliding the bag of presents from your elbow to your wrist, assuming he'll want to see them most. 

He begged for gifts, in person before you went and down the phone while you were gone, landline calls he insisted on. I worry about you, I wanna make sure you're okay when I’m not there.

You got him everything you could afford, a magnet, a bottle opener, a key chain, a teddy bear with a flag around his neck. Basically a bag load of candy on top. 

"I really missed you, sweetheart," he says. "Not to be sincere or anything, but I fucking love you. Next time you go away I'm gonna have to come with you." 

You laugh nervously. "I love you too," you say, averting your gaze to his collar, black double stitching against his neck. 

"Are you hungry?" he asks. 

"No," you lie. You hate being an imposition on him, even knowing that Eddie will tell anyone willing to listen that you're his best friend. 

"Seriously? You were on a plane for hours, and you came straight to see me, let me buy you pizza or something, yeah?" 

You lick your lips and nod. Eddie lifts your face to his, and it genuinely feels like a heart attack, that sudden realisation he could kiss you if he wanted to, the proximity of his face to yours. Instantly, you're wondering if your breath is okay, if you have eye crusties, if you smell good. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, concerned.

"I'm alright, I'm just tired," you say. 

"You don't look tired, you look cagey. Sorry, I forget that you get all shy again when we don't see each other." He talks brazenly but not without sympathy, patting your shoulder. "Come on, let's get something to eat."

"Can we order something? I'm sick of being in motion."

Eddie throws his car keys like a longshot into the bowl on the sideboard by his front door. "Yes. Absolutely. I'm sick of moving too, and this is the first time I've stood up today." 

"Gross."

"I brushed my teeth before you came over," he says, bearing them garishly as proof. He talks through gritted teeth, "Pearly white, no?" 

"Looking good." 

He beams. Eddie wraps a hand around your wrist like the touch means nothing and tugs you along to the living room. He pushes you down into the seat you always take, tosses your usual blanket at you, and whizzes off to the kitchen for coke and popcorn. He has the sweet stuff in a bucket that he eats a handful at a time, the lid sealed. 

"New one?" you ask. 

"Waiting for my best girl to get home," he says easily, collapsing down into the seat next to you, dropping the remote on your chest. "Shit, I missed this." 

"You didn't watch TV while I was gone?" you ask, confused. 

"I watched TV, it just wasn't good without you in my ear judging people." 

"I don't judge people… much." 

"Everybody judges people. I love when you judge people 'cos you say what I'm thinking." Eddie drops his head into your shoulder, his curls brushing your cheek. "I missed you so much." 

"You said that," you say quietly, a little breathless. 

Eddie looks up at you, something playful about him as he says, "I know. It's fucking true as all hell, too. What do you want from Marino's? I'll get you two if you promise not to go away again." 

"What am I gonna do with two pizzas?" you ask, the warmth of him seeping down into your shirt. 

Eddie digs a nail into the popcorn lid, face turned to you but gaze on the bucket. "Uh, eat them. Eat one tonight, take one with you tomorrow for breakfast." 

"I don't want two pizzas, just one is good. I'm gonna eat all your popcorn anyway, I won't have room." 

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, eyes flying to your face. "You think so, huh?" 

Your heart in your mouth, a shudder coursing down your chest, you have a moment where you think for sure he knows, he's found out, and he doesn't care —he looks like he wants you to confess. 

What a fantastically dangerous idea. You avert your gaze and thrust your bag of gifts and candy into his arms. "You'll be too full for popcorn after those." 

You can feel his gaze on your cheek for a little while longer, but eventually he moves from your shoulders, laughing quietly as he digs through his new things. 

"You're so awesome," he says, pulling out the keychain you got him. It's an electric guitar with an enamel body the same colours as the flag. "I'm putting this on my keys right now." 

Eddie kisses your cheek. "Thank you," he adds.

He stands and rounds the couch to go get his keys. You feel your cheek with a trembling hand. Eddie kisses you, he hugs you, he has a thousand affections and all of them set you aflame. Sighing, you let your cheek drop into your hand. It's hopeless. 

He watches from the doorway as you sigh. His smile can't be described any other way —he's infatuated. The sooner you realise, the better, but for now he's really enjoying the run up. 

[churipu]

Hi can I request the jjk men (toji, yuji, yuta, sukuna) with an s/o who doesn’t show any emotions?? If you do thank youu. <3

JJK MEN + "NO EMOTIONS" PARTNER 𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

featuring. toji fushiguro, itadori yuuji, yuuta okkotsu, sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. cursing, soft and ooc toji and sukuna :(

note. hi hi nonnie :( sorry for the very late update to your ask — uni has been busy lately, but i promise all my inbox is going to be emptied, even if it takes long.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. he tries to make you show emotions — teasing you, annoying you, anything that could make you be at least a little emotional; whether it is happy or sad (kidding, he wants you to be happy all times).

toji doesn't actually mind. but he wanted you to be more reactive of his teasing, because he didn't get the point of teasing if you weren't angry at him. instead of you being angry, or telling him that he should stop, all he got was a nod and an "it's okay".

so the top of his bucket list was to break down this emotionless wall of yours.

preparing a snack for both you and toji at movie night, you spent your sweet time in the kitchen. waiting for the popcorn to cook, when suddenly he stomped inside, boldly asking you, "what the fuck do we have for snacks?"

seeing you flinch in surprise, toji awaited your answer. ready to receive a mouthful of angry words, but all you did was stare at him with those beautiful doe e/c eyes of yours — and you meekly said, "popcorn."

the male's gaze softened as he reaches his hand out to you, "don't ever let me talk to you like that ever again," he pulled you into a warm embrace, "got it?"

you nod, "okay."

he never does that again.

ITADORI YUUJI. opposites attract. opposites attract. opposites attract. i said what i said. yuuji finds you amusing, especially the way you're always so unbothered about . . . everything? he asks himself how you're able to do that, and tries to find out the anatomy behind it. which ended up leaving him more clueless than ever.

you get a cut on a mission? you were just okay. you get hit by something that wasn't directed at you? okay. you get insulted? okay. it was okay, okay, and okay with you.

although, the male is a firm believer that even you — could feel hurt sometimes. after all, you are still human, right? so he's always the one telling people off for you, even if you tell him that it's not needed and that you were okay. yuuji doesn't believe in that.

"hey, piss off — don't say that about my partner." yuuji glares at a male, eyeing him up and down in menace.

"yuuji, let's go," you grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him away from the scene, and yuuji was still giving out stink eyes to the same male, motioning his finger across his neck like a threat.

even if you didn't manage to express it, you were very very thankful for him. because he is right. you do feel hurt at times, but it was something you hear a lot so you don't bother.

YUUTA OKKOTSU. honestly, he gets pretty intimidated at first. he's always so fidgety around you — it's pretty funny. but when he actually got to know you, yuuta's a little surprised that you could crack out jokes (unknowingly), and everyone ends up laughing . . . except for you.

he's really attracted to you. and rika, well, she wasn't the keenest on knowing that (she tried to hurt you) — but yuuta was there to tell her off nicely. rika still didn't like you at all, she tolerates you at times, but after a mission with yuuta, where you found yourself in a position of taking a blow meant for him. rika still hates you (not), it's getting there, she didn't want to kill you. that's progress.

"why did you do that?!" yuuta ran towards you, grabbing your upper arm, pulling you up.

". . . do what?" you asked nonchalantly before wincing out in pain.

and i guess, ever since then, yuuta has been stuck to your hip. he gets really excited to see you, even if you don't look as excited. but still — something about you attracts him, which eventually leads to the both of you dating.

still the same, you barely show any emotions. barely. that was also progress, with him, you could actually be honest with your feelings. but with anyone else? big no.

yuuta feels very honored. protects you. tells rika to protect you. he's so in love with you.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. oh, he despises it a lot. this man, he isn't satisfied if he doesn't get a reaction out of you — which he doesn't. most of the time. at most, you're going to brush him off and walk away, which he deemed as "being angry", but he's just embarrassed because it's not often someone brushes him off just like that.

kind of like a love language. he teases you to show affection, but when you don't react. it's like a punch to the gut, like you don't acknowledge his love for you.

but sukuna would never say that out loud.

despite that, you also had a way of showing love to him. it's not one of the 5 main love languages, but it works for him. sukuna pretends not to know, but he knows. and he secretly loves it.

you always. always without forgetting a day, scribble down on a post it note and leaving it somewhere that sukuna always notices. whether it being on the fridge stuck to a magnet, on the kitchen island, on the coffee table in the living room, by the corner of the bathroom mirror, by the snack cabinet. sukuna could always find at least three in a day, randomly stuck around.

and on the note, it would just be a random "i love you" or a cute doodle of animals holding a heart or a flower for him. he didn't ask you why you do it the first few times and just goes along with it, secretly keeping them all in a secret place where he makes sure you weren't going to find out.

"why'd y'keep leaving these random notes everywhere?" sukuna grunted.

"why? should i stop?" oh, sukuna was actually a bit mortified at the thought of not finding anymore notes specifically made for him, so he could only be silent, "doesn't matter what you think — i like making 'em."

oh, thank god.

he never questions you on it ever again in fear that you'd actually stop.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"forgive me one last time" ft. the monster trio!

headcanons of highschool!au monster trio as your boyfriend begging for forgiveness after fucking shit up :) m.list

luffy:

- "yn" he mumbles, trailing after you in the hallways "stop trailing me" you hiss as you open the locker, shoving the books inside and taking out another "yn" his hands are wrapping around your waist, his neck finding home in the crook of your neck and he's whining again, "please forgive me, pretty please?" - it wasn't even like you got mad often tbh; dating luffy meant he is gonna do stupid shit and you're gonna have to deal with it but there was a limit to stupid shit too - you shove his head away from your neck, "romilda fuckin' asked you, "wanna go watch a movie??" and you said yes. how can you say yes to a date while you have a girlfriend?! do i mean nothing?!" "i didn't know it was a date!!" his hands are wrapping around you tighter, "i thought she was lonely and wanted to hangout with a friend!! you know i wouldn't have said yes otherwise ynnn~" "are you an id-" you huff, "i'm getting late for class, get off" you forgave his dumbassery on the regular but come on, now its insane - yeah you didn't forgive him - not until you came back to keep your books and take new ones for the next period and saw giant "i miss you" and "sorry" glittery stickers plastered onto your locker (did he steal those from a 3rd grader? youre not sure) - you huffed, opening the locker - your jaw went slack - the entire locker was full of your favourites. your favourite candy, the cookies sanji always makes during christmas (how did he get those rn??), your favourite soda and flowers - how did he manage all that in the time span of one period??? - at the side is a note in a scrawly handwriting, "you wanna go watch a movie with me? (asking you for a date, not as a friend who wants to hangout) boyfriend :)" - you ended up forgiving him only after he bought he a bucket of popcorn and kissed you during the end credits of the movie - he also had to buy you dinner from the baratie like a gentleman.

zoro:

- "zo," you huff, "it's like the thousandth time, ofcourse im gonna be fucking mad at you!" "i know" he groans, "i really know, but i'm sorry, please" "no. you can't keep saying you'd show up for my events and then fuckin' disappear like always!" - you're fighting in hushed whispers in the hallway, you didn't wanna cause a scene because you know how bad zoro finds public attention - you know he's busy training, busy with his friends and you know he loves you but a part of you wonders if he simply doesn't actually love you - he constantly fails to show up at your events, he has never outright called you his girlfriend in front of people who weren't his close friends and he has never even held your hand in public because he says pda makes him uncomfortable - you got him but it simply sounds like he's afraid to admit you both are together - "are you not happy with me?" your voice is breaking, crumbling into silent heaves, "do not lo-" "what?" his hands find yours, "no, ofcourse not. baby, i just had another practice and dad (mihawk) called me back home. im sorry, i couldn't say no to him" "i know b-" - he kisses you - in the middle of the fucking hallway, with other people around - he does it. that bastard. - his hands are tucking your hair behind your ear, resting softly on your cheek as he tip you backwards and kisses you till you cannot possibly breath "i love you" he says loud enough so that anybody within earshot could hear, flashing you a small smile his voice comes down to a whisper, "i'm sorry i suck at being a good boyfriend, i will get better okay?" - he follows through on that promise because the next time, he is standing at your event with a tshirt just reading "yn is the coolest" and a small, stupid smile on his face "was the tshirt necessary?" "yes" - ugh i love soft zoro

sanji:

- sanji had a (bad) habit of always backing you up - one might wonder what's bad about that but when he almost beat the shit out of a random guy for saying he didn't like your vibes - "sanji!" you pull him away, eyes widening, "stop it" "but yn" "you cannot keep doing this! you cannot keep fucking putting up a fight against anybody who doesn't like me-" "yes i can" "sanji." - it ended up leading to a fight and you stormed off into the class - you expected sanji to come apologize the very next period or atleast text you or something - but nothing. you didn't see him for the rest of the day. - not until it was 9 pm and all of a sudden, a cheesy pop song was playing outside your window and in your front lawn stood a drenched, blonde guy holding up a boombox and a giant wet, white sheet reading "FORGIVE ME YN IM SORRY PLEASE I LOVE YOU" - first of all why was he drenched? it wasn't even fucking raining - that brings your attention to his two best friends, luffy and zoro holding a hose at him from a distance (luffy is giggling, he's having the time of his life, zoro looks like he hates being alive) - "sanji why are STANDING IN FRONT OF WATER?!" "SO THAT YOU FORGIVE ME, MY LOVE IM SORRY" "YOU'D CATCH A COLD, COME INSIDE IDIOT!!" - well, he did bring a box full of home-made chocolate though, so you cannot be mad at him for long - did this event stop him from being a bit over-bearing? no, not really but eh, that's sanji for ya

a/n: cutesy little headcanon lol thankyou so much @scentisterror for helping me with this <3<3 m.list

[miraclewoozi]

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away.  notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago. 

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room. 

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right. 

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones. 

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’. 

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone. 

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name. 

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry). 

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen. 

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts. 

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour. 

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed? 

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him. 

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense. 

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know. 

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans? 

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can. 

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty. 

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it. 

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away. 

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced. 

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there. 

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since. 

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie. 

There is one more. 

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly. 

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most. 

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it. 

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits. 

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask. 

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through. 

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake. 

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so. 

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage. 

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest. 

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning. 

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on. 

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth. 

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle. 

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough. 

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe. 

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.” 

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—”  He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go. 

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him. 

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.” 

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different. 

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms. 

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice. 

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants. 

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured. 

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use. 

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again. 

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans. 

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle. 

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat. 

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like. 

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base. 

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him. 

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming. 

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess. 

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop. 

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name. 

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to. 

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.” 

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the  steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own. 

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself. 

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle. 

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache. 

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum. 

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas. 

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

[realmsdelght]

Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince; Rafe Cameron

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: your friends hate Rafe, but Miss Americana will always defend her Heartbreak Prince Warning: language, alcohol, and mention of drugs Word count: 2,2k

Kildare Island was small, everyone knew everyone, and every person had an opinion about every person on the island.

Rafe Cameron had a reputation. Bad boy, spoiled, unhinged, psycho, every bad adjective in the book was used for him. And yet he was a magnet, not just from girls, but from people in general. But no one ever thought he would find love, people thought he would marry a ‘hot’ gold digger who he would cheat on and take his anger on. 

Sunshine, as everyone called the girl, was the light of the island, a kook with a heart of gold. Friends with Sarah Cameron and Kiara Carrera, she loved a good party and drinks, but she still woke up early the next day to volunteer with Kie. She was one of the few people who everyone liked on the island. 

So when Sunshine and Rafe Cameron showed up together at Midsummers, his arm around her waist, people were shocked. The day after the event gossip spread like wildfire, everyone was talking about the new couple and wondering how that happened. Even months after dating, most people still couldn't believe Rafe was able to get with someone like that. 

“Baby!” The girl’s voice rang through the house.

“Coming!” He sang to her.

The girl turned around when she heard footsteps, waiting for her man. She gave him her best smile as she watched him walk into the room with a bucket of popcorn in his hand. Rafe sat down, placing the popcorn in his girl’s lap.

“Thank you,” she gave him a peck on the lips before turning back to the TV. The couple was not even 30 minutes into their movie when the girl threw the empty bucket to the side and jumped on her boyfriend’s lap. 

“Oh wow,” the boy’s hands immediately went to her ass.

“So… I was thinking. Maybe going to a party on a Friday night is not a bad idea,” she said as she tried to read her boyfriend’s reaction.

“My party girl is bored already?” He joked.

She rolled her eyes before giving him another kiss, “I’m not bored, I just wanna dance.”

“Then let's go princess,” he said, getting up and carrying his girl to his room.

They knew what would happen when they decided to go out. Every Time they went out there was something. Both of them got a lot of attention, both good and bad, which often led to arguments and fights. Sunshine’s friends hated Rafe, which they always made known. And the Cameron boy loved trouble, she thrived in fights, and he would get in fights if his girlfriend’s name was mentioned in a conversation. Yet here they were, Rafe sat on the couch watching as Sunshine danced with some of her friends.

“Rafe, man. I didn’t think I would see you here today,” a guy he didn’t know sat down beside him and Kelce.

“I thought you were on a leash,” some other guy joked.

Kelce looked at his friend, hoping he was sober enough to take it as a joke. “None of your fucking business, man,” he made sure it came out rougher than his drunk self meant it, but he didn’t want some random guy talking about his girl.

“Wait, I thought you said you were staying in and watching movies,” Kelce turned to him, ignoring the boys around them.

“Sunshine wanted to dance, so here we are,” he smiled at his friend.

Kelce smiled at the Cameron boy. He would never tell his friend, but he was happy for him, no one had ever seen Rafe Cameron so happy, and he thought it was a nice look on his friend.

Sunshine loved a good movie night, but this party was what she needed at the moment. There was nothing better than to dance with her friends, and hopefully drink until her boyfriend had to carry her home. She was lost in her own world, dancing with Kie behind her, until someone got her out of her zone. “Babes, can you tell your psycho boyfriend to stop staring,” her friend Olivia asked, making her take a deep breath. 

Olivia and her friends from highschool were a difficult story. She loved them to death, but they despised Rafe, and they were always on her ass about it, to the point where even Sunshine couldn’t be around them most times.

“Chill, he is just admiring his beautiful girlfriend,” a drunk Kie said.

Olivia scoffed, making Sunshine turn towards her, “he isn't doing anything. He’s just looking at me,” she tried to defuse the situation.

“It’s never anything with him until he’s punching someone in the face,” she rolled her eyes.

“Can we not?” She was over the argument, “I came here to have fun with my friends, not to argue.”

“With that said, let’s go get a drink,” Kie broke the group up, pulling her away. The two walked towards Pope and JJ, who were near the keg.

“Excuse me,” Sunshine took a bottle from Pope’s hand, taking a big swig from it.

“You know,” Kie took a sip from JJ’s cup, “ I never thought I would find someone that hated Rafe more than we do,” she pointed out.

The girl sighed loudly, “I honestly don’t understand. I know Rafe is an asshole, but he hasn’t done everything to them. Honestly, I have never been happier, and I just don’t understand why they can’t be happy for me,” Pope threw his arm around her shoulders to comfort her. 

“If it makes you feel better, we hate his guts but we are really happy for you,” JJ smirked at her.

“Thanks, J,” she smiled at him.

Sunshine never hung out with the pogues before, not because she had anything against them, she was even friends with Kie during school, but they just never ran in the same circles. But that changed once Sarah started going out with John B, and Sunshine had to say she was glad. After she started dating Rafe, the pogues were there for her, while her own friends ignored her.

The group decided to ignore any animosities and have fun. They danced, drank, and even played some beer pong, and at some point, even Sunshine’s friends joined them.

Rafe loved seeing his Sunshine like this, so happy he thought she was glowing, and he thought the only way she could look better was with his arms around her. 

“I will be back,” he told Kielce, who nodded and handed him another beer.

In Rafe’s mind, there was no one else in the room, just her. His Sunshine lit the whole room, he was attracted to her like a moth to a flame. Kie made a funny face at her, which he knew could only mean one thing. She felt strong arms wrap around her, and she knew. Aside from Kie’s face, those arms, the cologne, everything about that person was familiar.

“Hi babygirl,” he whispered.

“Hi baby,” she melted in his arms.

“You having fun?” He asked.

“We were before you came here,” Kie smiled, giving him the finger. Whether it was more joking than serious, the couple wasn’t sure, but they didn’t care.

“Is this for me?” Sunshine asked when she noticed the two beer cans in her boy’s hand.

“Just this one,” he opened the can and handed it to her, “don’t want you to get more drunk,” he joked.

“Hey!” She turned around to face him, “not drunk, just tipsy,” she winked at him, taking a sip of her beer.

“I know baby,” he gave her a quick kiss.

It was weird for the pogues to see Rafe like this, so happy and calm, but they were sure happy for Sunshine, and also for the rest of the island that didn't have to deal with Rafe’s unhinged wrath. 

“Giving her another drink, really?” Someone mumbled behind them, and Sunshine knew exactly who that was.

The girl could feel how tense his arms had gotten around her, but the two of them turned around slowly.

“Don’t start please,” Sunshine pleaded.

“I’m not starting anything. I just don’t think you should be drinking anymore, and it’s not responsible of your boyfriend to be giving you more alcohol,” Olivia said.

Before his girl could say anything Rafe’s fighter spirit got the best of him, “and I think my girl is an adult and can have as many drinks as she wants.”

“Of course you want her drunk,” one of the girls said, causing the people around to gasp.

Sunshine got out of her boyfriend’s arms and walked closer to Olivia and her friends, “don’t you talk about him like that ever again,” she pointed at the girl. 

“That’s what I’m talking about, he changed you,” Olivia pointed out. 

“No, he hasn’t,” Sunshine drunkenly shouted. Her reaction surprised everyone. No one had ever seen Sunshine raise her voice to anyone, let alone shouting at someone.

“Yes, you have!” She shouted back, “since you started dating him you have barely hung out with us anymore.”

“That’s because all you do is shit on my boyfriend,” Sunshine said.

“Because he doesn’t deserve you!” Olivia screamed, “he is a coke head that likes beating the shit out of people, and uses his daddy’s credit card to buy blow.” It was as if the room stopped, everyone else around them was waiting for the Cameron boy to explode. 

Rafe felt the rage boiling from deep inside him, and at that point he was not past punching Olivia. But as much as he hated to admit it, her words hit straight into his insecurities, so differently than what anyone expected, he took a deep breath and walked away, leaving everyone speechless at the party.

When the initial shock was over, Sunshine realized what had just happened and ran towards the door that Rafe had just walked through. Once outside, the girl looked around for her boy, but he was nowhere to be found, it was as if he had just disappeared. She walked closer to where the car was parked, but as soon as she reached the higher level of the street she saw someone’s back, sitting alone in the sand by the house. Sunshine walked towards Rafe, silently sitting down by her boyfriend. 

Rafe didn’t bother to look at her and she knew what that meant, “don’t do that.”

“I’m not doing anything,” he shrugged.

“You are doing that face, the face when you get into your own head and start overthinking,” she finally looked at him, but the boy's eyes were still on the ocean.

“She is right,” he looked at her, “Olivia is right. I always thought about it, but I never said it out loud.” 

“Baby,” her voice came out shaky, and she reached to hold his hand.

“No, she is right. I’m a trust fund kid who does coke and drinks, and I have no future outside my dad’s company,” he started tearing up.

“Oh Rafey,” she placed her hands on his cheeks, making him look at her. “You remember my boyfriend during senior year, the soccer team captain?”

Rafe was confused as to why she was telling him this, but oh, he did remember that guy, “yeah, that asshole… he used to shit talk us for partying every weekend but he smoked more weed than JJ.”

She giggled, “that one. Everyone always told me how lucky I was, he was a good boy, went to church on holidays, was a mama's boy, all of that. And he was…,” she took a deep breath, “he is a good guy, but after we broke up I realized some things. It didn’t matter how much of a good guy he was, he never really saw me,” Rafe gave her hand a squeeze. “When he went to college I would do anything for him, care packages, I would visit him any time I could but he never put that much effort into it. I know he was busy with classes and all, but he couldn’t even pick up the phone if I called without letting him know beforehand.”

“Asshole,” the Cameron boy muttered.

“All the anxiety I had about intimacy and relationships, I told him about that, I told him about how often I felt like I didn’t deserve him. I knew none of that was his fault or responsibility, but I wanted to feel acknowledged, I wanted him to tell me he would be here for me for whatever I needed. But he just ignored me, hoping I would fix myself on my own.”

“I’m sorry baby,” Rafe said.

“My point is, he was perfect in the conventional way, but Rafe,” she looked into his eyes, “you saw me, all of me, flaws and all. You helped me through my anxieties, and you showed me what love really is. You make me feel so loved, I don’t think you understand how much the little things you do mean to me. You deserve all the love in the world, and you are worthy of it. All of it.”

Rafe placed his hand on her cheeks, getting closer so their noses were touching, “remember what I said to you the first time we kissed?”

“It’s you and me,” she giggled.

“That’s my whole world,” he got even closer, lips almost touching.

“And fuck everyone else and their opinion,” she said.

Rafe laughed, “I guess they were right, you are a bad bad girl now,” he kissed her, “but yeah, fuck those assholes.”

[cindol]

hi I love ur fics, can we have silly sukuna on a dine-in movie date!!

for u anon ofc 🐺 !

sukuna ryomen x fem reader

tagging — @aquasoftware

cw + — non curse modern au, once again this is rich man sukuna, reader and sukuna are in their late 20s, sukuna is jelly of gojo here,

a / n : I didn’t know specifically what you meant by dine in so I hope you enjoy .

When sukuna isn’t out and about terrorizing anyone in his path or doing just fuck all the place he finds solace in is his home movie theater. Sukuna found the people in public movie theaters to be insufferable as the employees so he got a completey home made movie theater built in one of his empty rooms:

For the first time in forever it was being used since you and sukuna finally found a good free time to use it as a home date.

Like always on these home dates, uraume was the one who had all the snacks prepped for you and sukuna and a romcon action movie on the screen. Sukuna didn’t care much for the movie, he just knew you wanted to watch it because it had some actor you had a celeb crush on and luckily he happened to know the director and got a copy.

Anytime this actor satoru gojo came on the screen you had a giddy expression on your face and a squeal coming from you.

Sukuna just had a brow raised while he ate some popcorn then swallowed in digust. “Don’t know what you see in the guy, just some pretty boy with glasses.” He had a hint of jealousy in his rough tone that made you giggle.

“Wellll, I like pretty boys.” you eyed him and he groaned rolling his neck at the cheeky compliment.“and what’s so wrong with cheeky asshole’s? You’re almost one if you had some black shades.” you tapped at the side of his eyes making him fluster and do a rough groan.

“I’m an ass but I’m not the cocky asshole that satoru is.”

“Someone’s jealous I’ll get taken away?” you hummed closely into his ear while taking some popcorn from his bucket.

a deep roar of laughter came from sukuna’s throat.“some boy with fluffy hair could never steal you from me, don’t be imprudent.” Even with him saying it you knew sukuna had some doubt, he just didn’t show it.

“Hm well.. gojo satoru is not my sukuna ryomen.”

[magigoblin]

Goblin tips to saving money:

Buy ingredients, not snacks. A bag of flour costs about the same as a bag of name brand chips and will make you so much more food! Rice, beans, block cheese, tortillas, there’s a lotta ways to make cheap n tasty lazy food. Spices seem expensive but remember they’ll last a while longer than most food purchases. You can make chili oil, pickled vegetables (garlic is Gobbo’s personal favorite!), all kinds of flavorful things without much effort to make other things tastier. Google has all the recipes you might need, as long as you disregard the AI thing they’re pushing.

Thrift stores. You don’t need that fancy new Apple brand waffle maker or whatever the fuck the rich assholes are pushing this week. Go to a thrift store and buy the waffle iron that the previous owner had for 20 years and will last at least 5 more, because the new stuff is designed to break after six months to force another purchase and will do the job just as well as the thrifted one at best.

Basic tools. You would be amazed how far a few screwdrivers, needle+thread and an adjustable wrench can extend the lifespan of goods. Tinkering is good for the goblin brain and is entirely practical as an experience. Do your research and get the brands of tools that will last and have the fewest “features.” Bells ‘n whistles only inflate the price and weaken the products.

Reuse before you recycle. Even if you can’t fix something, you can repurpose it entirely. Bucket has a hole in the bottom? Put a sturdy mesh over it with non-water-soluble glue and use it to grow a plant. The hole will let the excess water drain and keep the roots from rotting. You just saved money buying an overpriced planting pot, only having to buy some glue and mesh instead. Do not, however, begin hoarding things “just in case.” If you cannot think of a use for it, or have no desire or need to put it to said use, it is best disposed of or given to someone else who will.

Don’t spend, invest. Not in stocks or crypto or whatever. Wherever you can, buy the built-to-last versions of things and take care of those things instead of the cheap ones that are “good enough.” If you have to save up for a while, so be it, trust me it will save you so much money later. Durability is king when saving money, and maintenance is his faithful queen. Gobbo recommends cast iron cookware, if you can consistently maintain it. That stuff will last literally for generations if it is cared for.

Establish routines. A lot of money-saving practices need a little extra effort to work, so make a checklist and do everything on it once a day. Season your cast iron, water your plants, check expiration dates on food, make sure none of the lights were left on by accident, that sort of thing. The certainty of this routine does wonders for one’s clarity of mind in the long term, and usually takes half an hour at most.

Optimize your hobbies. Identify which parts of a hobby you don’t need to invest as heavily in to fully enjoy still. For example, if you love movies, it is worth appraising whether the whole movie theatre experience is worth the price tag or if you’d be just as happy buying the DvD and curling up at home with your own popcorn and no rude moviegoers detracting from the movie. If you’re a crafty sort, see if you can do anything to get more out of your raw materials. Went to school with a girl who used to waste a lot of fabric when tailoring, but started saving about 70 dollars a month by measuring and stenciling all the cuts in the fabric before actually cutting, minimizing the unusable scraps.

We live in a world where money is worth less to the market every day, so it is important to make that money worth more by how we use it!

If you’re motivated by spite, think of it like this. The rich people that run things want you to spend as much money as possible on every purchase, so spending less money and getting more out of it is a direct act of rebellion that they can’t do anything to stop you from committing. It is a small victory over capitalism, one that you can commit every moment of every day while simultaneously improving your quality of living. You are taking some power over you away from them and they hate that. It’s punk, it’s positive, it’s productive counterculture. What more could you want?

[effy-writes]

Fizz x Male! Reader Smut: Horny

requested from wattpad

i SUCK at writing male reader smut oh my god

also people who are requesting i WILL get to yours within a day or two :) so dont worry. thank yall for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Fizz's day off in a while, so he spent the entire day watching movies with you. It ranged from corny, to drama, to action, and finally romance.

Since Fizz works with Ozzie he had access to watch movies from Earth. The one Earth movie he wanted to watch was 50 Shades of Gray.

He refilled the popcorn bucket and laid down beside of you.

"Fizz, whats this movie about?"

"Some BDSM movie." He replied, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

"Interesting." You rested your head on his shoulder and wrapped your leg around his.

The movie was slow at first, just the two characters meeting and getting to know each other, but things have definitely escalated.

Fizz felt his pants tighten up once the first sex scene came across. He tried to adjust himself so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable, but the sex scene became more intense.

You felt him moving in the bed, like there was something crawling on him. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh right, yeah I'm fine." He grabbed another handful of the popcorn due to nerves.

He looked over at you who was nose deep in the movie. The room was dark, but he could see the TV light shining on your face and it turned him on even more. He wanted to fuck you like how the male protagonist was, but he knows you're a virgin and doesn't know if you'll be into that since it'll be your first.

You looked over at Fizz who was staring at you with lust in his eyes, and you want to reciprocate.

"I want to fuck you." You blurted.

Fizz blinked, "Really? You sure?"

You smiled, "Really. I can tell you want to by the way you were moving around."

He sat up, "You don't have to because I'm horny, just letting you know that."

"Fizz," You placed your hand on his, "I want to. Just talk me through it, and don't do the shit that that dude is doing, I'm not ready for that just yet." You snickered.

Fizz moved and got on top of you, straddling your hips. You used his collar to bring him down to kiss you. Breaking the session he took off his shirt as well as yours.

He placed his hands on the bridge of your pants and slid them off, leaving a trail of kisses from your stomach all the way to your genitalia.

He took off his pj bottoms and threw them aside. You swallowed your nerves, seeing his erect cock dying to get out of his boxers.

"I'll be gentle, don't worry." He reassured as he opened the lube bottle and lathered up his robotic fingers and your entrance.

He slowly slid two fingers in to open you up a bit. Your back arched as his fingers pumped in and out, picking up the speed.

"Tell me when it gets too much." He whispered.

"I..will." You said in between breathy moans.

Fizz pulled his fingers out and desperately took off his underwear, his red cock with white scars sprung up. Since the room is not completely dark you saw precum leaking out.

"I want you so bad." You whined, spreading your legs further apart.

Fizz let out a pleased hum as he rubbed lube all over his dick, getting it nice and wet so it'll slide in easier.

Fizz leaned down and nibbled at your neck while he lined his cock to the entrance of your ass.

"Please." You bucked your hips.

"You're so needy." He teased as he pushed himself in.

"Fffuck!" You gasped, digging your nails into his back.

"You're in control of me, tell me what you want me to do." Fizz let out a pleasing sigh, "You feel so fucking good."

"I want..you to fuck me." You wrapped your legs around his hips.

Fizz slowly pumped himself in and out to get you acclimated to the size of his dick. Once you begged him to pick up the pace he did as you wished.

He pinned your hands as he picked up the pace, hips striking your ass as your loud moans echoed the room. Fizz leaned down and planted his lips onto yours so you could moan in his mouth.

Your body twitched as you felt yourself reaching your climax. "Fuck..Fizz." You whimpered, your head throwing back.

Fizz let your hands free and gripped your thighs so he could plunge into you deeper. His moans increasingly got louder with each thrust.

“I’m gonna..” He panted.

Your scream of pleasure interrupted him, body compulsing as you came.

Fizz rolled his hips, riding out your orgasm as he came inside your wet, tight asshole.

The two of you panted as he pulled out. He rested his head on your knee so he could catch his breath. “I’m usually the one bottoming so I barely have the stamina to top.” He laughed.

“Next time I’ll top you.” You cooed.

Fizz laughed in amusement and laid down beside of you, pulling you into his arms. “Did you enjoy it? Was it too painful?”

“A little, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Fizz kissed your forehead repeatedly, “Can’t wait for you to fucked me ruthlessly.”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“FUCK yes.”

[smutty-ki113r]

🍿Ticci Toby 🍿|| Bubble Pop Electric

NSFW||~ One shot x afab gn!reader, includes- slight exhibitionism, virginity loss, mutual masturbation, biting, creampie, minors—dni (3.2k)

Inspired by: Gwen Stefani

“Toby when are you getting here?” you sighed into the phone, twisting the coil with your fingers and leaning against the wall.

“I’ll be there soon, did you pick a place?” He says back, and you can hear the grin in his voice.

You bit your lip and whisper, “drive in movies”. It’s a nice private place, plus, lots of people your age went there, it was a popular date spot. For good reason obviously, in the confined space of your car there was nobody watching.

It was nerve wracking, this plan you were trying to set in motion. Your heart was beating hard against your rib cage, a heat tingling between your legs just at the thought of what was going to happen tonight.

“Perfect, be there in 5” he said, hanging up. The excitement was building up in your stomach, butterflies going wild and flying all over your stomach, or maybe that was just your heart pumping. You went back to your room for last minute touches, red lipstick and perfume.

When you heard the knock on the door you bolted, opening it to find the tall handsome man who was your boyfriend. Messy brown hair that he tried to comb but ultimately failed, a leather jacket, a rose in his hand extended to you and a boyish grin that he wore so perfectly.

You swooned, receiving the rose and stepping out to embrace him. He gave you a swift kiss on the head and a squeeze on your waist that sent a shiver down your spine, “c’mon, movie starts at 8:00pm” he flashed his watch at you, it was 7:45pm.

He opened the door to his convertible red 1969 Chevy Camaro for you, closing the door and getting in himself. Speeding off towards the drive in theater with an arm over your shoulders.

You looked forward and saw that gorgeous fall sunset, the orange light illuminating his fair skin and the metal lining of the car. The cool air on your cheeks, making you blush, your hair whipping back.

Once you arrived, he paid the 25 cents entrance fee and found a spot near the back, just in time too. They were already playing the credits, soon the movie would start. He made a run for the popcorn stand and got a bucket for the both of you, some candy and soda.

He put the cover back on the car in case it rained, and to give you that extra ounce of heat and privacy, that combined with the dark sky and everybody focused on the movie was heavenly, it was a perfect night.

You gave him a kiss on the cheek and snuggled up close to him as the movie started. At first you were sort of invested, eating some popcorn and sharing soda with him, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He gave you his jacket, draping it over you so you wouldn’t be cold. You cozied up to him and pressed your nose to the leather, it smelled like him too. A soft smile made it’s way to your lips as the picture opened it’s first scene. He glanced at you and sighed happily, you were the epitome of beauty to him.

Toby’s arm around you, protectively holding you as if someone might steal you away, there was no movie moment more perfect than this one. It was pure bliss.

His hand found yours, intertwining with your fingers and playing with you. Resting his hand firmly on your thigh and stroking it softly. You threw him a stare but he was focused on the movie apparently. He was flirty this way, and it drove you mad; because he would insist that he was just fidgeting, but this was not just a quirk.

You gave a little huff, not loud or nearly desperate enough for him to give you what you wanted. He kept squeezing, kept stroking and getting closer to your inner thighs. Your mind couldn’t help but wander off to a fantasy of him fucking you into the backseat, his heated kisses muffling your moans, his hands touching every part of you, and thats exactly what he was aiming to do.

“Toby” you whined, giving him these big puppy dog eyes. He gave you a mischievous smile.

“What?!” He asked, his eyes bright as they trained on you.

“You’re doing that thing again” you sighed, motioning to his hand and the way he was caressing your skin.

“Oh, am I?” He asked. “Do you want me to stop?” He asked, knowing you would cry out ‘no’. It was pure evil, falling right into his hands, he just loved to hear you beg, loved to hear you plead for him to give you what you needed. “What do you want babe?”

It was a set up, there was no way it wasn’t. But you couldn’t stop yourself from doing exactly what he wanted. “Toby…” you grumbled, “fuck you always make this so hard” you stressed. “I want you” you pleaded, your cheeks tinted red at the lewd implication of the words coming out of your mouth.

He gave a coy smile, kissing your lips first deeply, kissing your neck in its soft spot next. His hand sliding further up your thighs till he reached the flesh of your intimate area. Switching hands so he could put his arm around you again, and use the other to reach you better.

His eyes remained on the movie, as if it were just a simple activity to pass the time, while his fingers moved slowly on your cunt. Rubbing you through the cloth of your panties. You had to spread your legs to give him more access, it was embarrassing, but he liked that.

Toby had on a little smirk, his hand up your skirt, rubbing circles around your clit. Your legs spread like that, him acting like nothing was happening. The fact that he was restraining that ounce of pleasure you craved so desperately.

You begged, a soft “please” coming from your trembling lips. That- he couldnt resist. His fingers slipping in between your panties to feel your soaked cunt. He let out a grunt at the feeling, it was so tight when he carefully let a finger in.

Toby imagined the delight of your pussy wrapped around him, hot and wet and squeezing his cock like a vice. The two of you had never gone that far before, just oral and grinding on eachother till he came in his pants and you were throbbing in yours.

“How does it feel baby?” He asked, his throat tight, his entire body heated with the desire to take you right then and right there. He had to seriously restrain himself, his cock straining painfully in his jeans.

Your eyes were hazy, brows furrowed in a lewd expression. Answering his question even though his fingers were knuckle deep in your hole. “So good- don’t stop Toby”

That was all it took to bring his full attention to you again, his lips parted slightly as they pressed against yours. Moving in tandem and holding the back of your head to guide you while he tasted you. Putting in a second finger to stretch you out, to make sure he reached those gushy parts you that made you squeal.

“Fuck” he cursed, “did I really make you this wet?” He asked, watching you nod your head quickly and hold space just enough to touch the tip of his nose with your own. Heavy, hot breaths colliding in the air between you.

Toby was infatuated, his cock hard and pressing against the cloth of his pants, begging to be released. You reached over to stroke him through the cloth, his face was one of warning, if you kept at that, he was going to lose all control.

It was tempting, but you just continued touching him lightly. It was like bliss, both of you touching each other. “Fuck I love it when you do that” he panted. Sneaking in a third finger and watching your expression as he pumped his digits in and out of you.

Your heart almost exploded watching a group of people pass by the side of your car, you almost wouldn’t have noticed if they hadn’t been laughing so hard. Instinctively closing your legs around his hand and squeezing, eyes following them nervously even though they weren’t even paying attention.

Toby gave a little grunt as your hand rested over his budge, his eyes focused on the movie, as if he could ever be focused on that screen and not on you.

“Someone could see” you whispered, “this is risky”, but you didn’t move your hand away, you didn’t want to.

He smirked mischievously, his gaze glowing in the dimly lit car as he watched you. “Thats what makes it exciting” he almost panted, so fucking horny for you, his hands twitching to touch you and his cock begging to be buried inside of you. You couldn’t disagree with that smile, you melted at every word.

Deciding to make big moves and undo the zipper on his pants, his breath hitched but he steadied, rubbing your clit in gentle circles while you fished him out and started stroking him. He was girthy, your hand didn’t wrap all the way around him, you shivered at the thought of him inside you.

It was all so lewd, sitting shotgun and leaned back with his fingers inside of you and your hand around his cock. His chest rising and falling unsteadily and both of you watching the movie, neither of you paying attention. The dialogue of the motion picture background to your fast paced breaths concealed in the safety of his car.

You were beet red, hair messy, too nervous to ask him to move into the backseat. He could sense your tension, asking if you were comfortable. The man was always so considerate, picking up on when you wanted or needed something.

You motioned to the back and he took the hint, shoving himself back in his pants while he moved to the back and pat the seat to encourage you to come to him.

Already your head was fuzzy, but now he had you laid down on his leather seats and things were being taken to the next level. “Toby” you whispered, looking up and catching his face in your hands, “I think tonight is the night”

He gave a sharp inhale and asked “really?”, you laughed at his ability to hold in eagerness, but it was true, he had never pushed you, he waited till you were okay and actually wanted it, till you craved it like he did.

“Yes” you giggled, watching him bury his head in your neck so he could start kissing again. His hair in your face, you could smell his shampoo, it was cinnamon spice.

“I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good babe” he growled, his hands twitching as he started grabbing every part of available skin. “I’ve gotta stretch you out first, so you can take me”

You were throbbing at his dirty talk, excited for all the things he said he would do. His forehead pressed to yours once again so he could look in your eyes while he slid two fingers in again. Your cunt making wet noises that combined with your lewd expressions were driving him crazy.

“You’re so fucking tight” he cursed, “I can’t wait to be inside you, to feel you”

You were choking on your words, there was so much you wanted to say, but it wouldn’t come out. You were too caught up in the moment, too enamorated with the absolute man on top of you. “I’m ready” you managed to get out, “I need you”

Toby said nothing, taking out his throbbing cock once again. He was pulsing with unimaginable desire, one only you could satisfy. He hovered over you, rubbing your clit with his tip just to tease you, and to calm some of your nerves. He edged it on your opening, waiting for your consent.

His hands found yours again, intertwining fingers and squeezing tight to let you know he appreciated you and wasn’t going to let you go. “I think I’m in love with you” you breathed out, his face of pure joy and delight was the best reaction you could have imagined.

“I love you too” he responded, “let me show you how much I do” he breathed, another hand on your hip to guide you while he slid the first few inches in and watched your face contort as you struggled to take him.

You were panting, your body on fire from his delicate touches. “I need you to fill me” you gasped, pulsing around him and milking him. With your simple plead he couldn’t refuse, he had to satisfy you; bottoming out till his balls pressed against your ass.

“Oh fuck” he cursed under his breath, his lips parted as he leaned in and pressed impatient kisses on your neck, sucking and leaving marks, nibbling while he rolled his hips out and back in to adjust to a pace that would be comfortable for you. You whined softly in his ear at him stretching you out.

“Yeah just like that” he said in between kisses, his grip on you so furious he was sure to leave marks. His unruly hair now more unkempt than before, cascading over his face when he looked down at you taking his cock deep inside your wet pussy.

His tip pressing into the farthest bits of you and his length rubbing against your walls, making you all sensitive. Your body reacting just as he needed, arching into him. His thrusts speeding up just because he was so needy, his noises uncontainable except for when he was kissing your skin.

His teeth pulling at your bottom lip and almost drawing blood, his gentleness was fading as he got more and more lost to the rabbit hole of pleasure you provided him with. He wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t speak and your legs were shaking. “Oh Toby-“ you cried.

Your brows furrowed and your face faded in an expression of pure ecstasy, the way his hips were slamming against you reminding you that you were in public and could be caught red handed any minute.

“People might hear” you whispered in his ear, telling him with the last bit of your sanity. Truth is he was fucking you so hard the car moving was already a giveaway. His expression showed just a hint of deviance, the rest of his face was lust and determination.

“Let them” He growled as he bit you again, “I don’t give a shit” he admitted, too far gone to think about consequences. “Want them to know you’re mine” he panted, pulling you towards him so he could feel every bit of you, “only mine” he said possessively, his tone low with warning.

His body was so perfectly connected with yours, you felt so sensitive in places you had never even considered before, your inner thighs where his hands traced you shakily before gripping; your neck that he was busy abusing. It was almost over stimulating, to feel him mold himself into your hole.

But you were in so much bliss, the way he split you in two was too delicious to overthink. “Oh- oh~” you cried, eyes shut and legs wrapped tight around him, if he kept going just like this you would cum soon. You tried to let him know, to warm him- but it all came out like jumbled groans and whimpers. All you managed was “I- I-m gonna”

Toby, who was whispering nonsense while he pounded you, disregarded your noises, it was all too much for him, your body so warm and delightful. He was already lost to your pleasure, mumbling out “tight- tight- so fucking tight-“, his hands gripping your ass, balls heavy while they slapped against your cunt.

You couldnt take it any longer, feeling yourself reach a thrilling peak, squeezing his girthy cock in pulses. To which he kept cursing, his expression read only as divine satisfaction. “That’s right- just let yourself go” he managed to praise before he completely lost his cool.

Your body limp in his strong arms, he held you up, supporting you and keeping you safe. You had never felt more secure than tangled in the backseat of his car with his dick hilted inside of you. While you rode out your orgasm he pressed against the small of your back and switched positions.

He was sitting up, you on his lap facing him, his cock still stretching out your pretty wet pussy. “Rest against me babe” he said, taking a slight breather and letting you lean your forehead against his. Looking deep in his dark eyes, your face flushed and your lip open. Toby didn’t hesitate to kiss it, his own lips parted in whispers and praises that he muttered in between displays of affection.

You were too tired, trying to grind and ride him, his hands soft on your ass to guide you. “It’s okay” he said, “let me” his legs spread slightly to buck up and fill your slutty little cunt with his shaft. You moaned and cried out his name, to which he only went harder.

“I’m gonna fill you up” he said, “gonna fill you up with my cum, my pretty little baby” he said, his hips rolling up and his tip reaching your cervix. Pressing into all the most delicious places. “Oh fuck”, the sounds you were making together were so lewd, breaths intertwined in the heat between you.

His composure faltering and his hips bucking wildly until he pulled you down, his arms hugging you so tightly while he cried your name and spilled deep in you. His hot cum filling you up, it was so much but you took it, panting and kissing him once again while he twitched inside of you. Your tight pussy milking out every drop of him.

“You did so good for me” he said, catching his breath and moving your hair out of your face so he could look at you. The most gorgeous thing in the world, he wanted to see you while you still took his cock inside of him. You almost couldnt believe he had just popped your cherry in the backseat.

“That’s my pretty baby” he caressed your cheek, kissing it swiftly. You saw that big grin return to his face, he was going to be teasing you now, “giving me all your love in the backseat”

[obsessivelyloved]

Day 1: Love at First Sight

Full disclosure: I wrote this while drinking so sorry in advance if it flows weird or if there are any weird sentences that don't make sense.

___________________________________________________________

His eyes had been drawn to you. Tord couldn’t put his finger on why. It wasn’t like he made it a habit to ogle movie theater workers. He was always in and out whenever the latest gorey movie came out. The less human interaction he had the better. He got enough interaction from the lowest of humanity at his job. Building robots on the side really brought out the stupidity in people. 

But ever since he stepped foot in the theater, he couldn’t help but sneak glances over at you. You looked bored, standing behind the concession stand. 

You fidgeted with something beneath the counter and swayed a little. 

Tord almost envied you. Not many people buy snacks at the movie theater nowadays. It was much simpler - and cheaper - to sneak some in. 

But something compelled Tord to speak to you, His heart raced as he approached the counter. Fuck his movie, he could afford the first few minutes to talk to you. He swiftly read your nametag and rolled your name around in his head. 

He liked it. It really suit you. Knowing your name made his heart race more. 

  Tord put on his best flirty smile, leaned against the counter, and opened with a line he used frequently at the bar. “They pay you to stand here and look so pretty?”

You stared blankly at him. “Can you repeat that?” you ask flatly. His heart dropped. Shit. Normally that got a chuckle out of the pretty girls and guys at the bar. Or the giggly cashiers at the grocery store.

Tord grinned wider, his sharp teeth glinting in the low light. 

“I said,” he drawls, leaning further over the counter. The scent of buttery popcorn grows stronger. “That you’re way too cute to be working here.” 

He meant it. Really, he did. You kept staring blankly at him. 

“Are you going to buy something or are you just going to harass me?” 

Alright, changing tactics. 

“What do you recommend?” Tord asks, leaning back away from the counter. A rush of heat went down his back. Why did he feel so embarrassed? 

“I’d just get a large popcorn and call it a day,” you answer in that same flat voice. 

Frustration starts to bubble in Tord’s chest. Just what the hell was wrong with this person? Tord was great with people. He was building his own army for fucks sake. People flocked to find him, to join his cause.

Why did he want to impress you so bad

Tord snorts and shakes his head. “You sure know how to upsell a guy. Shit, just a large popcorn? You’re not going to try to convince me to give up my right arm for a candy bucket and a large soda?” 

A slight smile appears on your face for a moment. It makes his heart flutter. 

“I honestly don’t care what you buy. They just pay me to stand here.” 

Tord barks out a short laugh at that. “Really?” he asks. “I’ll take the popcorn then, since you put your heart and soul into convincing me to buy it.”

Whatever faint amusement was on your face was gone in an instant. A vague frustration crossed your face before you spun around to fill up the popcorn bucket. Tord didn’t mind. His gaze lingered on you. You may have acted prickly and above his flirtations, but Tord couldn’t deny that something drew him towards you. 

He wanted to find out what, keep talking to you, and give you his phone number. He wanted a genuine smile, a laugh, and your phone number. 

You turn back around with a full bucket of popcorn. “Eight fifty,” you state blandly, all but slamming the popcorn bucket on the counter. 

Tord pulls out his wallet and hands you a twenty. You give him a sour look as you open up your till and dig for the right amount of change. 

After he receives the right amount, Tord winks at you and slips it all into your tip jar.

“For your stellar service,” he purrs. And then he was off, making a beeline for the room his latest gorey interest was playing. You wouldn't leave his mind the entire time he sat in that theater. His heart raced every time he thought of you. It’d been a while since someone had caught his attention like you had. 

Perhaps you’d be worth the chase. His bed had gotten awfully cold lately since his dearest decided to get into his locked drawer and wield his gun. He’d love them forever but it was time for him to move on. You seemed perfect for him. He couldn’t wait to see you again. 

After all, it was rare for Tord to experience love at first sight.

[candycandy00]

Pick Me Up - A Gojo x Reader x Geto Halloween Fanfic Part 3

Gojo and Geto are two serial killers who enjoy seducing their victims before killing them. Every year on Halloween they have a friendly competition, and this year the target they both choose is you. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The first two parts will be fairly short and just serve to set up the way these two operate. The third part starts the “main part”. Any feedback or comments are greatly appreciated! Divider by @violetbudd

Smut. 18+. Fem Readers. Smut mostly just thought/talked about in this part. Gojo and Geto are both bisexual. 

You’re standing in line at the convenience store, two giant bags of potato chips in your arms. Your friend told you to bring some to the party, so here you are, standing here in a silly white Angel costume. There’s a fake halo on a stick over your head, small white wings attached to a white top that is way too sheer for your comfort. The skirt is shorter than anything you’ve ever worn, and your white thigh-high stockings have little bows at the top. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to look innocent or slutty. Probably both. 

Your friends picked out the costume for you, saying it fit your personality. You don’t know what that says about you, but you’ve decided to take it as a compliment. 

The teenage boy working the register stares at your chest, not even trying to be subtle. You pay for your chips and for some gas you just put into your car, then you head out. 

A group of trick or treaters nearly mow you down as they run into the store, excitedly chanting the familiar phrase as the teenager rolls his eyes and begins dropping handfuls of cheap candy into their colorful buckets and bags. You smile as you watch the little goblins, remembering how much fun you always had as a child on Halloween. 

This year is going to be just as fun, you tell yourself. You’ve never been to a large Halloween party before, but you’re really excited. You hum the Ghostbusters theme to yourself as you toss the chips into the backseat and climb into the driver’s seat of your car. 

***************

Satoru and Suguru have been sitting in the white van, parked far away from the pumps at the gas station, for a couple of hours now. They’re watching the various people who stop for gas, each trying to pick out their special Halloween victim. 

Suguru has one hand buried in a bag of popcorn. “How about her?” he asks, pointing to a “nurse” strutting by. 

Satoru takes a bite of the king sized candy bar in his hand. “Nah. Too easy. I want a challenge tonight. Besides, you need to focus on picking your own target.”

“My taste is more discerning than yours,” Suguru says, holding up the small bag to pour the rest of the popcorn into his mouth. 

“Wait,” Satoru says, pointing with his free hand toward the door of the convenience store, “look at her.”

Walking out of the store after nearly bumping into some kids is the sweetest looking Angel either of them have ever seen. 

“Fuck, she can barely walk in those heels!” Suguru says breathlessly, “Can you imagine chasing her?”

Satoru’s eyes are shining above the rims of his dark sunglasses. “She’d trip so fast. That flimsy outfit would rip… she’d be crawling on the ground, crying her eyes out, begging me not to hurt her…”

Suguru laughs. “Easy, you’re gonna bust a nut.”

“Only in that sweet angel’s mouth,” Satoru says. 

“I’m picking her,” Suguru suddenly declares. 

Satoru swivels in his seat immediately to look at Suguru. “What? No, I’m picking her!”

“Too late. You didn’t get a chance to cut her fuel line.”

Satoru frowns. “I’ve got other ways of getting her into my van.”

“Really? Like what?” Suguru asks. 

Satoru gives him a meaningful look, pulling the shades down. “These baby blues. I could roll up covered in blood, carrying a machete, and she’d still wanna ride my dick after one look into my eyes.”

There’s a moment where Suguru just stares at Satoru silently, allowing himself to get lost in those eyes. Then he looks away. “You’re too full of yourself.”

Satoru laughs, taking anther bite of his candy bar. “Just admit you think my eyes are pretty.”

Suguru ignores him and stares out the windshield, watching the angel climb into her car. “How about we make the contest interesting this year? Let’s both pick her.”

Satoru raises his eyebrows, clearly intrigued by the idea. In years past, they competed to see who could fuck and then kill their individual target first on Halloween night. The rules were pretty simple. They had to act suspicious, and they had to get the target to willingly have sex with them despite throwing up glaring red flags. It was their fun way of testing their own charm and good looks. 

“Okay, let’s do it,” Satoru says, grinning. “If you’re lucky, I might just give you sloppy seconds!”

Suguru rolls his eyes. “I hope you like fucking girls with no skin, because that’s the only way you’re having her tonight.”

They both laugh, and then Suguru gets out of the van, heading to his own vehicle so that he can use the backroads to get ahead of her. 

*****************

You sit for a minute in your car, trying to send a text to your friends to let them know you’ve picked up the extra chips and are heading towards the party, but there’s no service in this area. Too wooded and remote. You sigh and cram your phone into the small white purse beside you. 

A couple miles down the road, you’re blasting Monster Mash on the radio, singing along with the lyrics, when you notice someone walking along the side of the road. You hit the brakes, your car screeching to a halt beside a man with long dark hair, dressed all in black. 

If he’s walking along the road in the dark, he probably needs help! You roll the passenger side window all the way down and lean across the seat as he steps over and bends down to look in at you. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask him, concern obvious in your voice. 

He smiles at you, and you can’t help noticing that he’s incredibly good looking. “I ran out of gas,” he says.

“Well hop in and I’ll take you to the gas station,” you tell him, patting the seat beside you. 

He blinks, hesitating for a moment before that charming smile returns to his handsome face. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice creamy and smooth. “It’s dangerous to pick up hitchhikers, you know. I could be a serial killer.”

You look him over, from his smile to his clean and simple clothing. He sure doesn’t look dangerous. “It’s fine,” you say with a grin. “I’ve got a good feeling about you!”

His eyes widen slightly, then he breaks out into laughter, so much that he clutches his side. “I can’t argue with that logic!” he says, opening the passenger side door and climbing inside. 

“Wow, you smell nice,” you say to him, noticing the fresh fragrance of soap, or maybe laundry detergent. “Is that Gain or Tide?”

He glances at you sideways, seeming a little caught off guard by the question. “Uh, I just use whatever’s handy… I don’t pay attention to brands…”

“Well whatever it is smells great.”

He stares at you for a moment before saying, “Thanks.”

You hate the awkwardness of silence so you decide to keep talking. “Do you live around here?”

“No, just traveling through,” he tells you. 

“I’m going to a Halloween party,” you say brightly. “But I guess that’s obvious.”

He looks you up and down. His gaze feels hot, and you notice his eyes lingering on your legs. “That’s a cute costume,” he says. “So are you sweet like an angel?”

You laugh and slap his arm playfully. “Is that a pick up line?”

He gives you a strange look, unreadable, then smiles again. “I’m just kidding.”

“Well, if you really want to know the truth, I didn’t pick out this costume. My friends did. It’s a little more, uh, risqué than I’m used to.”

“It looks good on you,” he says. 

“Aw, thanks! You’re really sweet!”

Again, that strange look, but then a second later he’s laughing again. You’re not sure how your words were funny at all, but you giggle along with him, caught up in the moment. 

He laughs so much he’s nearly in tears, then he looks over at you with a smile that seems genuine for the first time. “Has anyone ever called you naive?”

You nod, smiling proudly. “Yep! All the time!”

He tilts his head, black as night hair falling over his shoulder. “And you’re not bothered by that?”

“Nope! I’d rather see the good in people and be wrong occasionally than always assume the worst of everyone.”

He chuckles. “You’re like one of those virginal heroines from a horror movie.”

You look at him sharply, then quickly look away, heat spreading across your face. 

“Haha, you’re totally red right now,” he says, then suddenly his smile disappears as his eyes seem to focus on your face. “Wait… why are you so red right now? Are you… a virgin?”

You wince. “Is it really that obvious?” 

His face seems frozen as he stares at you. Then one eyebrow twitches. There’s an excitement in his eyes that confuses you but also gives you a little thrill. 

“You really are an angel, aren’t you?” he asks.  

**********

When the angel pulls back into the gas station, Suguru doesn’t even have to ask if she’ll drive him back to his car. She volunteers, of course. He smiles and thanks her, and heads into the store to pretend to buy some gas. 

To his surprise, Satoru is standing by the magazine rack, thumbing through an issue of Fangoria. 

“Not in any hurry, I see,” Suguru says to him. 

“I know your patterns,” Satoru shoots back. “So, how is she?”

Suguru picks up a random magazine, not even looking at the cover, and pretends to flip through it. “She’s totally innocent and naive. Kind and sweet. She has absolutely no sense of danger, but I don’t think she’s an idiot. And…”

Satoru looks up at him. “And?”

Suguru meets his eyes. “Satoru, she’s a virgin.”

Ahh, there it is. That positively depraved, monstrous gleam in Satoru’s eyes. “Oh fuck,” he says, dropping the magazine back onto the rack. “I could wreck her so bad.”

Suguru understands the appeal. The thought of ruining something so pure and so good is irresistible to people like them. An image creeps into his mind, of that innocent angel choking on Satoru’s huge cock, and he doesn’t know why it turns him on so much. Because he’s also imagining her thighs trembling on either side of his face, gasping moans spilling from her lips. 

“I better get back to work,” Suguru says. 

Satoru waves him off with a smile. He must have some kind of plan in mind, Suguru thinks. 

After buying an empty red gasoline container, Suguru returns to the car, where the angel is waiting patiently for him. She opens the trunk for him to put the gas inside, and soon they’re on the road again. 

***************

The man beside you doesn’t talk much on the drive back to his car. You wish he would. He has such a nice voice. But he smiles warmly when he catches your eye, and he has a way of putting you at ease. You hate to admit it, but you might just be developing a bit of a crush on him. 

He tells you where to pull off the road, and soon enough a car comes into view, parked in a wooded area, behind some trees. You stop your car and turn to him, feeling a little sad that it’s time to part ways. 

“Here you are! Do you need any help?”

He makes no move to get out of the car, but looks at you with an expression you could only identify as “predatory”. But on him, it just looks sexy. “I’m not in any hurry tonight,” he says, turning to face you. “Are you?”

You feel your face heating up again. And if you’re honest with yourself, you’re feeling heated in another place too. “Well my friends are waiting for these chips,” you tell him. “Do you want to come to the party with me?”

“Actually, I was hoping we could spend some time together, just you and me.”

Ohhhh. He wants to hook up. Right here in the woods. You’re not sure how you feel about that. On one hand, he’s smoking hot. You’ve been getting wetter with each passing moment that he’s been in your car. But on the other… do you really want your first time to be with a stranger? You think about it for a moment, looking at his beautiful face, inhaling his pleasant scent. 

Why not live a little? 

“Tell me your name,” you say. 

He blinks at the sudden shift in the conversation. “Huh?”

You turn in your seat to face him. “I don’t want us to be strangers.”

“Ah, I see,” he says, then he smiles. “I’m Suguru.”

You smile back. “I like that name.”  You introduce yourself and then you take a deep breath. “Okay, so what did you wanna spend time doing with me?” You know the answer, but you want to hear him say it. 

He scoots closer to you, then leans his upper half toward you. “I don’t think you can handle what I want to do with you,” he says, his voice practically dripping with honey. 

You feel a shiver run through your body. Is this really happening? Are you really going to have sex with a guy this gorgeous? That you just met? There’s something scandalous about it that thrills you. “I probably can’t,” you admit, “but you’ll take care of me, right?”

There’s fire in his eyes as he closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours and kissing you gently. One of his hands moves to your hair, caressing it, pulling you closer, making the kiss deeper. When his tongue slips into your mouth, you offer no resistance. After a few moments, he pulls away to look at your face. You’re breathing slightly harder than usual as you say, “Wow, that was some first kiss.”

His eyes widen. “That… was your first kiss?”

You blush. “Yeah. Thanks for making it a good one.”

All at once, as if a switch has been flipped, he’s upon you, his hands rubbing over your body, his lips on yours, then on your neck. It’s a bit overwhelming, but it feels good, and there’s a thrum of energy coursing through you. There’s no doubt in your mind that by morning, you’ll no longer be a virgin.  

And then you hear it, a strange sound, like someone breaking a large stick in the woods. You put your hands on Suguru’s shoulders and lightly push him back. “Did you hear that?”

He presses forward, nuzzling your neck. “I didn’t hear anything,” he murmurs. 

You push him with a bit more force, causing him to stop and look up at you. “There’s someone out there,” you tell him. 

He sighs. “There’s no one out in these woods. Trust me.”

You turn around in the seat, looking out all the windows. There! Someone ran by some trees! “I saw someone,” you yell, pointing toward the spot where the figure disappeared. 

He looks in the direction you pointed. “I don’t see anything.”

“It might be an elderly person who needs help!” you say, starting to open your door. 

He gives you an incredulous look. “An elderly person?”

“They had white hair!”

Suguru’s eyes flatten to unamused slits. “Ah. I see. It’s probably some asshole playing a prank. It’s Halloween after all.”

You slide out of the car. “But what if it’s not? What if some grandma got lost in the woods and needs our help? I won’t be able to relax until I check.”

A look of annoyance passes over Suguru’s face, but he quickly replaces it with a warm smile. “Okay. I’ll help you check.”

“Thanks! You’re a really great guy!”

The two of you move around the car, calling out shouts of “Hello?” and “Is anyone out there?” and even “Shout back if you need help!”

When no answer comes, you run over and open the trunk of your car with the key. “I have a flashlight in here,” you say, digging around. You push the container of gas out of your way, and you notice something strange about it. The container is so light! You reach over and pick it up, and it’s immediately clear that the container is empty. Why would it be empty? Just as the terrible, obvious answer dawns on you, Suguru appears right beside you. 

You look up at him with wide eyes. The empty gas can is still in your hands. 

His eyes shift to the can, then back to your face. “Ah, I guess the jig is up then,” he says in a casual tone. “What a pity. I really, really wanted to fuck that virgin pussy before I kill you.” 

You back away as his words sink in. You watch helplessly as he pulls your keys from the trunk lid and then dangles them in the air. Before he can take a step forward, you fling the empty gas can at him and break into a run as he knocks it out of his way. You only make it a few yards away before you realize running in stiletto heels on uneven forest ground is impossible. 

Stopping for just a moment, you tear off your shoes. When you glance back, Suguru is running toward you. In a panic, you throw the shoes at him one at a time before sprinting into the woods. 

“Ow, fuck,” you hear him shout, “you almost hit my eye!”

“Sorry!” you yell back, a reflex you couldn’t subdue. 

Branches from small trees and bushes scratch you as you flee. Your skirt gets ripped up the side, the thin, cheap fabric of your top is nearly shredded, and your cute white stockings have holes in them now, one of the bows from the top missing. You ignore all of this as you make a beeline for the road. 

You haven’t heard Suguru since you threw the shoes. No yells, no footsteps, no crunching leaves. Either he’s a very quiet pursuer or he’s got some other plan for how to catch you. Both options are terrifying. 

Finally you break free of the trees and reach the road. You scan the area for Suguru, or your own car. He could easily use it to chase you down. You see headlights approaching and you decide to take the chance that it’s not him. You run up alongside the road, waving your arms. 

The vehicle that stops in front of you is a rusty white van, but it looks like a blessing to you right now. The passenger side window rolls down and a man in sunglasses leans over from the driver’s seat. 

“You okay, miss?” 

“No, some guy is after me! I think he wants to kill me!” Your voice is a bit frantic, but you’re trying to stay as calm as possible to avoid scaring him into leaving you behind. 

He looks around as if checking for attackers. Even in your distressed state, you notice how distractingly beautiful he is. He pulls his sunglasses down and looks at you with eyes so blue you almost forget you’re in danger. “Get in,” he says with a disarming smile. “You can tell me all about it and I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

Feeling lucky to be rescued by such a charming prince, you hurry to climb into his van. You look over at him as he pulls back onto the road. “Thanks so much,” you tell him. “You saved my life!”

He grins at you. “Don’t mention it, angel!

Now where can I take you?”

You exhale as you slide down a bit in the seat, trying to decide whether to go to the police or not. You feel like the night has lasted forever, having no clue that your Halloween was only getting started. 

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