#fuck fuck fuck my entire life I thought about this stupid bitch

[clingyduoapologist]

The thing about c!tommy that’s so insane to me is that, well, he isn’t especially brave? Like he is never opposed to just running from a fight, he will scream and cry and plead and sob if tubbo pulls out an axe for like half a second. He is really not a paragon in any sense of the word.

AND YET PROTECTION AND FIGHTING IS LITERALLY ONE OF THE WAYS THAT HE SHOWS AFFECTION like if there is a mob hitting you and ctommy loves you that mob is going to die. If you want to hurt his friends he will bite you and claw your throat out. He is not a brave boy but he is a loving boy and I can gonna be sick

#dream smp analysis #dream smp #c!tommy #fuck fuck fuck my entire life I thought about this stupid bitch #girl the horrors are assailing me

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

#having a time of things lately #in my own stupid anxious head all the time because all my thoughts are a tornado basically #I just feel full of nervous chaotic energy a lot of the time and no way to burn it off #and I still can’t get him out of my fucking head ever #can’t even be my normal self because I’m so constantly thinking about him and it’s kind of driving me crazy #reasonably the way to break this would probably be to not talk to him for a while #but I simply could not handle that #he’s basically my best friend and the only person I talk to every single day or really care much about #and when we don’t get to talk I just feel like I’m going feral #and there’s so much distance between us now in so many ways #and it’s not like I don’t understand why it has to be this way because I do #but I’m struggling so much with that and it’s ridiculous #I feel like a bad friend for wanting things back the way they were before when he’s dealing with so much more #and I feel like a bitch for feeling like it’s my fault or being so needy or anything really #I’m trying to put the pieces together to figure out why I’m having such a hard time not being normal around him #and I think most of it is because I never really received positive attention in any way my entire life #and then suddenly he comes into my life and everything is different #he flirted with me first and initiated talking about other things first #all before I even knew what he looked like #but my icon is just me so obviously he must have liked me right from the beginning #and no one else has ever really liked me that way ever #and then unfortunately he’s a fucking 10 so that doesn’t make this any easier for me #things just got built up between us so much that no having to completely cool down is like taking a punch to the chest #which is so dumb isn’t it #because he’s always going to be my friend no matter what #friends first #but we were kind of more too and it was all I had and now I don’t even have that anymore #and in reality this isn’t about me but I just have to be selfish don’t I #how do I talk through any of this with him without being a horrible person? #personal

[leaderwonim]

smart, sexy, lacy, i’m losing it lately.

pairing. student!yang jungwon x student!fem!reader

summary. jungwon has always hated you, right from the start. you were too nice, too smart for your own good, and lately—you’ve been starting to get too pretty for yang jungwon to handle.

author’s note: HAPPY BDAY YANG JUNGWON WOOOOO here’s a post dedicated to my bias, the loml. this fic is entirely based off of olivia’s song “lacy”, one of my favorites off her guts album!

Yang Jungwon thought you were the most insufferable person he met. Not only were you overly nice, but you were so smart that you got the highest scores unlike bitter Jungwon who always managed to score second place.

“I’m losing it,” Jungwon whispers underneath his breath as he lifts his paper up into the air. A big red 99 was scribbled on top of his paper.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset.” Sunghoon, a friend of Jungwon’s, took a seat next to the mess of a boy who was currently ruffling his hair in stress. “A 99 is good Wonie!”

“No it’s not,” he mumbles, placing his head against the table. “No it’s not. Song Y/N managed to get a 100 again.”

Almost as if the universe knew Jungwon was talking about you, you passed by the two boys, waving a quick hello to Sunghoon.

“Don’t wave back.” Jungwon mumbles, lifting his head up slightly to glare at Sunghoon.

“What? Why?” Sunghoon whines, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know why you hate her, she’s a sweetheart.”

“Look at her,” Jungwon mutters in disgust as he finally straightens his posture to look at you. “God’s favorite child—Song Y/N. Those stupid ribbons in her hair make me want to barf.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say it, but he’s ultimately very concerned for Yang Jungwon. He’s known the boy for years and it confuses him on why he hates you so much. You have been nothing but nice to the both of them since freshman year of high school.

“Why do you care so much Won?”

“I don’t.”

It’s a lie, one that Sunghoon detects from a mile away.

Yang Jungwon cares. He cares a lot. He lets his hatred of you take over his life, and it leaves him feeling miserable.

When Yang Jungwon walks into creative writing, his favorite class of the day, he is hit by the overwhelming smell of your perfume.

He’s practically memorized it by now because everytime it’d come into his presence, his nose would flare up and his body would tense. Vanilla and macadamia, of course you’d wear something like that.

You probably don’t notice—or at least Jungwon hopes you don’t notice—but he’s always staring at you, quickly looking away when you make eye contact. Sometimes, he’d huff under his breath about how ridiculous you look with your ponytail, even though Yang Jungwon knows it looks adorable on you.

Being around you was like sweet torture in the young brunette’s eyes.

“Jungwon!” You say as you make your way to him on one afternoon. “Congratulations on making it as class secretary! I knew you could do it!”

Jungwon bites the inside of his cheek, not expecting your input.

You’re too nice. You’re way way too nice to him. He thinks.

“Thanks.” He clears his throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Although you were complimenting him, it felt like bullets piercing through his skin.

“I dyed my hair, do you like it?” You give him a smile, oblivious to the current crisis that Yang Jungwon was going through.

You did dye your hair. It was a bright blonde now, kind of reminding him of Regina George, you know—minus the bitch part.

“It’s… okay.” He mutters. “Listen Y/N, I have a lot of work, do you mind?”

You shake your head quickly, muttering out a small apology before taking off to find your friends.

Yang Jungwon wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but you looked dazzling in your newly dyed hair. You looked like Bardot reincarnated, and Yang Jungwon was so fucked because he knew that he couldn’t escape you wherever he’d go.

It was almost as if you were made out of Angel dust.

“Are you out to get me?” Yang Jungwon slams his hand on your table, jolting you from your work.

“What are you talking about?” You say, still putting on a smile despite being confused.

“Are you out to get me?” Jungwon feels out of breath now that he’s all up close and personal to you. “You poison everything I do!”

“What do you mean?” You frown, the feeling of sadness suddenly seeping over you. “Jungwon?”

“You know that I just loathe you lately? Do you Song Y/N?” Jungwon looks away in distress, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “My mind, it’s like I can’t get you out of it, and I don’t know what to do. I hate you—I swear I do—but I don’t know anymore! My mind practically worships you Song Y/N!”

Jungwon’s eyes widen when he realizes he’s said too much, especially when he comes in contact with your face that’s bright red in shock.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”

“Jungwon, it’s okay.” You take his hands into yours, rubbing it comfortingly. “I kind of knew for a while, Sunghoon told me. I know all these feelings must be confusing but you know I’m here for you regardless.” You smile at him. “I like you Yang Jungwon.”

Jungwon’s mouth goes dry, and for the first time, he can’t think of anything to insult you with. “I.. I like you too Song Y/N.”

“Finally.” Sunghoon emerges suddenly from behind you two, making Jungwon gasp in shock.

“Yah! Don’t do that hyung!” Jungwon complains, hands still holding on tightly to yours.

“Sorry, had to get my two favorite kids together.”

Yang Jungwon wasn’t sure of many things, but he was sure of 2. One: he liked you a lot, and two: he was definitely going to kill Park Sunghoon for telling you everything.

#enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen texts #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #jungwon x y/n #jungwon x you #jungwon imagines #jungwon fluff #jungwon x reader #enhypen jungwon #jungwon

[pupcuck]

LOVEY-DOVEY !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. ddlg, daddy dom/little girl duhh, leon feeling guilty for no reason, age gap, princess parts used once, an abundance of pet names, honestly just icky sappy smut, typical stuff like penetration n oral, praise kink

note. haiii :3 so insanely embarrassed to post this it’s insanely icky and soft for me .. but ignore typos as always :333 rbs n feedback greatly appreciated :33 crossposted on my ao3 clitkiss as usual, this is like very.. ddlg like he dresses u at one point but it’s only mentioned briefly

stocking filler

You and Leon are trying something new. Now, he’s no stranger to it, his moonlight trysts with Pornhub show that he’s an expert at it in fact. But that was back in his late twenties. Op in Spain made his brain go funny, and maybe it’s ‘cause Ashley is the perfect subject for it - DDLG that is. She batted her lashes up at, clung to his arms, and she needed him, relied on him. In turn, he spent his days balls deep in videos like Daddy’s Little Girl Punished For Staying Up Past 8 PM, and even classier ones like Big Cock Daddy Fucks Tiny Tit Teen Girlfriend Till She Squirts (ANAL + THROATFUCKING)! Even the occasional Step-Daughter Chokes On Step-Daddy’s Fat Cock While Mommy Sleeps! Very tasteful, very nuanced, very discreet. So yeah, not to brag, but Leon’s kind of a porn connoisseur. Dabbled in every category.

The DDLG thing got boxed up and shelved away quick. Made him feel guilty, post-nut clarity set in the second he’d milked himself dry. Then he’d lay there for hours with a sticky palm and a heavy heart. Hasn’t thought about it in years, these days Leon’s more into Busty Dom Mommy Pegs Scrawny, Ugly, Sissy Slut In Business Suit! and if he’s really feeling up for it Stupid Fucking Bitch Takes Two Dicks At Once! The titular bitch actually only took one dick at a time despite the two dicks present, quite misleading in his humble opinion. No more creepy daddy stuff though. Those days are over; he hasn’t thought about it in twenty years give or take. Claire sent him this ‘Get porn sites taken down for women blah blah blah’ petition, he signed it, clicked out of the tab and got down to watching some silly slut get fucked within an inch of her life.

It’s more of a boredom thing. Honest. Leon watches porn to fill in gaps of space throughout his day; he nods his head thoughtfully when the man so affectionately titled Blue-Collar Bear slams into the Preppy Spoiled Twink. This is all getting away from him, the point is, Leon hasn’t thought about the dreaded topic of DDLG for literal decades. Then you walk in, and Leon’s sat there listening to you prattle on about Pompompurin and Chococat, an entire lineup of characters that he now knows off by heart.

Oh, is that right, sweetheart? Cinnamoroll’s a puppy, not a bunny? Wow, I didn’t know that, baby, fascinating ain’t it? Miffy‘s from the Netherlands, god, she’s gotta be careful over there in Amsterdam, honey. They don’t call that place Sin City for no reason, the red light district is no joke. Oh, I see, she’s from Utrecht? Ah, guess she’s safe then, I’m glad. What’s her name? That’s your favourite, Cogimyun? That’s a mouthful, ain’t it? She looks like a cloud. No? She's not? She’s a what-? Made of wheat flour? Oh! Well, that’s real funny, baby. Bet she don’t do well on windy days.

You don’t tell him outright. But he knows. Leon tries to tell himself that you’re just like this, that you buy cutesy, girly stickers to make yourself happy, that you fill his bedroom with soft toys ‘cause you simply like ‘em, turn them around when you fuck as a joke. But it’s clear, the headspace you’re left in after sex gives it away, haven’t let the D word slip so far, Leon’s banking on it being soon though.

He pets your head before you leave the house one day, you beam up at him, apples of your cheeks rounded with how hard you're smiling. “Love you, daddy!” You chirp all too loudly, jaw dropping open a moment later at your own blunder. Then you skitter out the front door unnervingly like a deer with CWD.

Called it. Made a bet on it even. Leon takes fifty out of his savings account, owes it to himself. You looked awful upset, he sends you a message, tells you to be safe, text him when you meet your friends. You do. Somehow, even the message is clipped. Poor baby, you’re embarrassed. The colour had drained from his face when you said it. You’d noticed for sure.

You’re younger than him, much younger. Too many years younger. An age gap that makes his head spin. Leon tries not to dwell on it, but it gets real hard. Claire’s always down his throat about it. When you go out in public together, he’ll sneak a hand in your back pocket and get stared down by every passer-by. He’s been asked if he’s your dad before. Blow to his ego. Considered botox and filler for the entirety of the following week. Certainly not your dad, possibly your daddy. Now you’ve cemented that in place - you want Leon to be your daddy, and he’ll fill those shoes.

Even if it leaves a bad taste on his tongue, even if it makes his skin crawl. Leon is willing to lay down his life for you half of the time, best thing that ever happened to him, so what harm is a little DDLG gonna do? He just needs to get comfortable with it, refamiliarise himself with all the lingo. How hard could it be? The guilt? He can get over it, even if it clings to him like a festering scab.

When you come back home it’s late, he barely hears your footsteps. You’ve learnt how to make yourself scarce when returning on late nights, Leon’s a light sleeper. A jumpy one at that. He smells jasmine when you pull back the covers, the mattress dips and he turns to face you.

“Fuck!” You gasp, brows pinched together, he runs his thumb over the divot that’s formed between them. “You scared me, Leon.”

“Not that ugly am I?” He juts his bottom lip out, it pulls a laugh out of you, and that makes him smile. You were emanating gloom and doom the second you stepped into the bedroom. Clear skies now.

“Never, you’re sooo handsome.” You kiss the tip of his nose, smear pink Vaseline on it.

“You know just what I wanna hear, don’t you, baby?” Apart from daddy. He’d make the joke, but you’d likely flip out. Leon shuts his mouth. He’s gotten better at doing that lately. Must be the effect you’ve had on him. “Baby?”

“Yes?”

“About today—“

“Leon.” It’s a warning.

“Baby.”

“Leon.” Clearly you want to brush it under the rug. “It was just a slip-up, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, so can we just drop it?” Uh, woah, someone’s defensive.

“Baby, it didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Leon strokes your cheek, his cold hands warmed by the heat of your dewy skin. It made him mildly uncomfortable. That’s ‘cause he grapples with all these I’m a dirty old man that deserves to be crucified, Claire’s right I’m a fucking cradlerobber, I should let her go, I’ll be dead by the time she’s ready to get married thoughts. You’re this pretty young thing and it makes him tremendously nervous.

“I saw your face, Leon, I’m not stupid.” You’re getting huffy now, fluffing the pillows and turning away from him.

“Babe, I was just surprised, pinky promise.” Leon sticks his pinky finger into your line of sight, there’s silence, then the sheets ruffle and you’ve lifted your hand, shorter pinky wrapping around his.

“Like, pinky swear, Leon?” You sound so small, so scared, his heart aches.

“Baby,” he coos, “light of my life, angel, apple of my fuckin’ eye, sugar, dollface,” you hang onto every word, eyes getting bigger and wider by the second, “I knew the minute you showed me those Sylvanian Families.” You smack his chest and he laughs in your face.

“You’re an asshole and I hate you so much.” When he touches your cheek again, you’re burning up, he places a kiss behind your ear. “Stupid old man.”

“C’mon, baby, you think I’m dumb? You gave them names.” The Persian Cat triplets are named Serena, Nate and Blair. From Gossip Girl of course, he didn’t know what that was. Tedious is his review. Leon thought Henry, Tommy and Jimmy were more fitting names. You didn’t understand the reference. “You buy ‘em little plates and forks and cups, they’re living better than us, baby.” And that’s a fact. You splurged on a Red Roof Country House. Far nicer than his apartment, once empty, now filled with junk like that. No, it’s not junk, it’s his baby’s stuff, trinkets that make her happy.

“What if I just liked them?” You’re glaring at him, cutely of course, everything you do is saccharine.

“Just adds up, don’t it?” Leon gives you a big, wet kiss on your pouty lips. Tastes roses. Literally. He just swallowed a bunch of pink Vaseline. “What I wanted to say ‘fore you got all pissy on me,” he swallows the lump in his throat, fuck it, how bad could it go, he’s just making his favourite girl happy, “I don’t mind tryin’ it out.”

Rules are implemented the following morning, albeit loosely. Leon doesn’t have a lot of control over things, the DSO has jurisdiction over him, got him by the balls. And in turn, Leon’s just learnt how to take it like a good bitch. You handed him a pink glitter pen and a page from your Hello Kitty notebook. Asked him so sweetly to make a general set of rules, so you know how to be a good girl for daddy. Leon sprung a boner so fast he got nauseous. And that’s not even the sex part of this arrangement. He uses his black ballpoint pen, pink glitter isn’t his thing. Plus, it doesn’t show up on the paper.

You giggle when he hands them over to you; Leon’s ears flush pink. He’ll get better at it, swear. He wants to do well for you. Wants you to feel satisfied with his quote caregiving unquote.

It starts off slow, you hand him your toothbrush in the morning, Leon blinks at you in pure and utter befuddlement. You say Ah! like you would at the dentist and he gets it. Leon sits you on the closed lid of the toilet seat, making sure to get your molars, your canines, front teeth, and all the remaining ones. Five seconds each. Or he tries at least. You’re quite meticulous in this headspace, letting out a disgruntled noise when he fails to be precise.

Then you sit on the mat while he showers, like a puppy, didn’t even notice you were there until he opened the sliding door. “Hi there, babydoll.” Leon wraps a towel around his waist, “whatcha doin’ down there?”

“Waiting for daddy.” You tell him plainly, then trail after him as he gets ready. Right. He’s gotta pick out your clothes. What if you don’t like them? You’re so fussy with your style, spend hours tossing piece after piece out of the wardrobe, stomp your feet when the blouse you wanted to wear is in the laundry. Right now, you’re totally placid, lifting your arms when he asks as he puts you in a ribbed pink sweater and the frilly skirt you’re so fond of, knee high socks per usual, Mary Janes to finish it off. Oh. Yeah. This is bad. He’s in deep. You’re too cute. He thinks he wants to be your daddy forever.

“My dad’s been wanting to see you, Leon.” Ashley’s all grown up now, which makes him feel a bit sappy. Hypocritical really, he’s got a college girl back at home calling him daddy.

Dad… Daddy, I love you, when are you coming home?

Leon blinks to clear his mind, gives Ashley a plastic smile. “How’s he been?”

“Oh, you know how it is, he got a little sick over Halloween, but that guy, he’s always up and kicking.” Ashley brings a vanity out of her pocket, reapplies her lipstick. “Overall, he’s been good.”

Good girl, am I a good girl, daddy?

Jesus Christ, get a grip, man. “I’m glad, should take a rest that guy.”

“I know!” Ashley moves her plate to the side and lays out her entire makeup case on the table, picking out mascara. When he looks closely, her round mirror is printed with a vaguely familiar cartoon bunny. “He never listens, hasn’t been President for decades and he just works and works and works. That’s why you should call, tell him to take it easy.”

“What’s her name?” Leon frowns, jabs his thumb towards the compact.

“My Melody!” She answers, grinning at him with her pearly whites.

My Melody, Kitty, Keroppi, and Mimi, did you write that down, daddy? And there’s—

“Aren’t you too old for that, Ash?” Leon raises his brow, he’s not serious though, and she can tell.

“Hey, I liked Sanrio before it was cool in 2004, okay?” She tosses it all back in her clutch. Ashley’s too nice, if it were Claire she’d bite back with Aren’t you too old for your girlfriend, loser? And that would shut him up. “It was nice seeing you, Leon, I wanna meet your girlfriend next time, she seems sweet. And don’t forget to call dad, I’ll drop his number later.”

Call dad… Daddy? Daddy.

“Leon, don’t you think Chris looks like our dad?” Claire’s hijacked the DSO break room once again, she’s in town for some TerraSave presentation thingy. He wasn’t listening. Eyes glassed over as he gazes endlessly at her phone screen.

Dad. Dada. Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy.

“Huh?” Leon says dumbly.

Claire levels him with her stare. “You’ve been out of it today, what’s up?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs nonchalantly, wipes his clammy palms on his jeans. “Just didn’t sleep well.”

“Uh huh.” Claire’s not convinced. Shit. She totally knows. She sees right through you, Leon. She knows what dirty shit you’ve been up to, can see the shame on your face, and she’s building her case against you. “Anyway,” she begins, voice holding onto it’s suspicious edge, “I was saying, I found this photo album of our parents, doesn’t Chris look so much like dad?”

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Fuck. He needs a lobotomy. Stat. This is taking over his fucking life. A sizable chunk of his brain was removed in his sleep, and it’s been replaced by pink mushy goo. Different to the pinkish brain matter that resides inside one’s head. More a glittery pink goop that morphs into the shape of you. You’re jumping around in there, sliding down the sulci and fissures in his brain, lodging yourself deep in his mind. Making it your playground.

“You’re fucking impossible to talk to, Leon. You know that?” What’d you say Claire? He can’t hear you over the impossibly disgusting, perverted thoughts running through his mind.

The second he gets home, Leon is on you. Face between your tits, knee keeping your thighs open, kissing you breathless. “Daddy!” You giggle, delighted by the wave of affection.

“Babydoll,” Leon rubs his stubble against your cheeks to hear you squeal, “Daddy missed you so much.”

“I missed daddy sooo much too!”

“Oh, yeah? How much did you miss daddy?”

You stretch your arms as wide as they go. “This much, daddy!” Fuck. Holy fucking shit. He needs to start going to weekly mass again.

“Yeah?” Leon peppers kisses all over your little face, forehead to your neck, “what’d ya get up to?”

“Mmm,” you hum, tapping a finger against your lip thoughtfully, “coloured, ate ‘n got sleepy, daddy.”

“What an eventful day that is, baby.” Leon kisses your nose. “You colour something for daddy?” He needs to put his dick in you before he explodes.

“Mhm,” your lashes flutter when he sneaks a hand up your loose sweater, hanging off your shoulders, swallowing you up, “I put it in daddy’s office…” Your breath hitches when he rolls your pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Daddy’s gonna hang it on the fridge tonight then.” Leon mumbles, too busy shoving his naughty hand down your pyjama shorts, cupping your mound. Your fingers tremble as you lift the hem of your sweater, baring your tits for him, he takes your nipple into his mouth. Bites down to hear you gasp. Latches on like a damn baby, groping the other tit roughly.

“Daddy,” you whimper, and the sound alone makes his dick twitch. Leon pulls off with a pop, spit dripping down his chin.

“I know, baby,” Leon coos, “daddy’s gonna take care of you.” Dirty old man! blares Claire’s voice in the back of his mind. Leon can’t find it in himself to care. Watch this, bitch. “You want daddy to play with your princess parts, babydoll?” You heard that right, princess parts. He’s been sucked in that deep.

You nod, brows pinched together as you bunch up the sheets in your curled fists. Leon clicks his tongue, presses a kiss below your belly button. “Words, baby.” He reminds you, his tone delicate, only lightly chiding.

“Need daddy… need him to play with me,” it’s barely a mumble, but Leon takes it. He knows how jumbled your head gets in this mindset. Poor baby, play with your clit and it turns you all stupid.

Leon gets to work. He’s been waiting for it all day, to get his mouth on this perfect cunt. He spreads you out, urges you to go wider, as far as you can. Licks over the fabric of your cotton panties, his nose nestled against your swollen clit, sucking on the wet patch on the gusset. The constant nudge of his nose against your clit is making you antsy, your chest rises and falls, your fingers itch to tug at his hair, but you’re an obedient girl so you keep them down by your sides. Clutch at the sheets till your nails break.

He continues to lick and suck at your leaky centre through the fabric for an eternity. You have your complaints, but you can’t say no to daddy. That’s, like, against the rules. So Leon has his fun, maybe a little too much fun. You let out a strained noise, and enough is enough, you’re being so good for him, so patient. His little girl deserves a treat. Once you’ve creamed your panties that is.

“God,” you toss your head back and melt when his tongue flattens over your bare folds, he’d thrown your panties into the laundry basket a minute prior, good aim.

“Hey, give me some credit, baby,” Leon takes a break from tongueing you down, “God’s not doing shit down here, it’s all your daddy.”

That makes you giggle. Then you call out daddy so sweetly his brain blanks. He spits on your sticky core, you’re wet enough, but Leon likes it sloppy, wants to feel your mess dripping down his chin. His teeth scrape your clit, pulls the hood back, kitten licks it, kisses it three times for good luck.

“Don’t cover your mouth, baby,” Leon places a big hand on your hip, holds you in place, “Daddy didn’t say you could do that.”

“Sorry… ‘M sorry, daddy,” you whine, the hand once clasped over your mouth falling limp, and you’re moaning like a fucking pornstar. He can’t handle it. That word does something to him, something evil and degenerate.

He pushes your cushiony lips together, pinches your clit when it sticks out, makes the nastiest sounds known to mankind. Messy eater. Schlurping, schmacking, gulping. What he’s gulping down? God knows. Two fingers slip into you, knuckle-deep, wriggle around, scissor you open, his palm mashed into your clit. Leon’s face is resting on your plush thigh, admiring his own handiwork. Your slick cunt, drooling all down his wrist, covered his face in it, now you're cumming in messy spurts.

“Atta girl,” Leon croons, lays it on thick with the praise ‘cause he knows you get shy about this, “that’s right, dollface, just let it all out for, daddy, huh?”

Panting, you curl into yourself, kick your legs a little when his nimble fingers find your sticky clit, he can feel you throbbing. “No more, daddy.” You beg, rubbed raw from the back-to-back orgasms.

“Too much, baby?” Leon’s hand comes to cop a feel, his nose pressing into the nape of your neck. “Can you get daddy off?”

The energy seems to zap back into you within an instant. You nod, head bobbing up and down like it should be doing on his dick. You love having your mouth full, keep his cock down your throat till you go numb. Suckle on it with pride and integrity. You gaze up at him with those eyes, heart-shaped pupils and all, blowjob eyes.

“How’d you want daddy?” Leon asks, you roll over, laying flat on your back, you want him like that? Alright, naughty girl. With your head between his meaty thighs, Leon guides his weeping tip past your swollen lips, you lap at the slit, collecting droplets of his precum on your tongue.

“Shit,” Leon gets out through gritted teeth, covers it with a cough, he shouldn’t really be saying bad words, not setting a good example for his baby. The suction is crazy, feels like he stuck his dick into the tube of a vacuum cleaner. Your cheeks hollow out as he thrusts his hips forwards, tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag each time. Still take it like a champ though. You always do, his good fucking girl. “Doin’ so damn well, baby, makin’ daddy cum.”

Your little hand comes to rest on his abdomen, Leon eases up, lets his fat cock slip out of your mouth, he thinks you’ve had enough, but you go for his balls instead. Open your mouth wide as you try to fit ‘em in your mouth. “No chance, baby.” Leon smiles, patting your head, you lick along the seam and his dick is fucking throbbing. Hail fucking Mary. “Not gonna last, babydoll, can daddy fuck you now or ya need a break?”

You nod, he raises a brow, “No, daddy, I’m fine, daddy. Need daddy in me so bad.” You croak out, throat sore from the time spent with his cock lodged in your windpipe.

That makes him groan. The non-explicit dirty talk is fuckin’ weird, turns him on in ways he can’t explain. He loves when you avoid saying the word pussy, can’t say cock, makes it sound even dirtier. Maybe it’s the control aspect. You can’t say those words ‘cause daddy said so, ‘cause Leon said so.

His dick jumps the second he tries to slide in, bumps against your sensitive clit, shit, that hasn’t happened since he was twenty. Leon grabs your ankles, kisses one before he throws them over his shoulders, uses one hand to guide his dick to your sloppy hole and the other is intertwined with your smaller one. Tender, sappy, sweet. Oh, don’t make him tear up, princess. With age he’s softened up. For you Leon has softened up. Brought back part of who he was before it all went wrong.

“My pretty girl,” he pets your cheek like he does the neighbour’s well-fed cat, and you lean into it all the same. He fills you up so well. No matter how much Leon plays with your pussy, there’s always a stretch, and he can tell by the look on your face. Nose scrunching, lips parting, letting out a sharp breath as the weight of his cock knocks against your cervix. “All done, baby.” Leon tells you, and you open your eyes, sit up on your elbows to see where the two of you meet in a sticky, squelching embrace. “Well done, baby, you’re such a big girl, takin’ all of daddy, aren’t you?” Leon presses his hand down on your lower tummy, his cock angles upwards so he can hit that spongy spot deep inside, the one that makes you sob. “Is it there?”

The cry you let out is the confirmation he needs. He bullies his cock into you, fucks you rough ‘cause he loves you. Making love is for mornings, when you’re sleepy and pliant, nasty fucking is for after work. When he’s pent up, when you’ve been on his mind all day. Leon pulls out, only his tip keeping your cunt spread open, then he slams back in, and you begin to sniffle, squeezing his hand so tight you cut off his blood circulation.

“Daddy,” You drop his hand, nails clawing down his back, his lonely hand suffering from a severe case of pins and needles, “daddy, daddy, daddy— oh, daddy!” It’s the only thing you can say. Stuffed your cunt and your head is full of him too. Leon adores you. Prettiest girl in the whole world and you’re here speared on his cock. Dexterous fingers find your clit once more, helping you reach the edge.

“You can do it, baby, don’t worry, daddy’s here.” Leon dips his head down, kisses you and swallows up your sounds, stringy spit keeping the two of you connected. Red string of fate or whatever. “Daddy’s right here, daddy loves you.”

All it took was the L word, and you’re squirting. Pushing his cock out, dripping down his heavy balls, digging your nails into his back, chanting daddy like your life depends on it. And Leon can’t take it, he’s been ready to bust the second he got home, his stomach contracts, spills his seed into your wet cunt. Messy just how he likes it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Leon lets his full weight drop on top of you.

You grunt softly, “Heavy, daddy.”

“Yeah, I know, gimme a second.” Leon grumbles, teeth tugging on your earlobe. “How’d you rate me? Five stars? Ten out of ten?”

You yawn into his hair, “Stop bein’ silly, daddy.”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Katsuki fumbled as the heavy wooden door of your mansion was nearly slammed in his face, you being the cause. Your infuriated strides didn’t stop as you reached the kitchen.

Katsuki felt his eyes burn and bile rise in his throat as he tried desperately to reach you.

“Baby, please! It was one time, and I didn’t even kiss her-,” he rambles worriedly, taking a step aback as you turn around.

Your eyes held nothing but pure fire and pain.

“Oh my FUCKING GOD Katsuki! You didn’t kiss her?! Oh that’s just wonderful, I totally forgive you for going behind my FUCKING BACK and fucking other women! That makes everything okay now!” You cry? Laugh? You couldn’t tell anymore.

Katsuki winces at your tears, pearly streaks of his own staining his cheeks. He reaches for you, heart breaking when you flinch away from him.

“Baby-,” he starts.

“Don’t you fucking DARE call me that you disloyal bastard,” you sob.

“I gave you my EVERYTHING, you son of a bitch! The nights I spent slaving over that fucking stove so YOU wouldn’t go hungry! I broke my back cleaning this fucking house, I give up my social life so we can be together, I bust my fucking ass doing stuff in bed I don’t want to do, ALL FOR YOU! I gave you EVERYTHING! So don’t you fucking dare try and have some balls now.” You sob through gritted teeth.

Katsuki sinks to his knees, openly sobbing and grabbing your hands. You tried forcing them back, but his grip was relentless. He pressed tearful kisses to your hands, amplifying your pained sobs.

“(Y/N), please! It was the worst mistake of my entire fucking life, of OUR lives. It was an act of stupidity, and if I could go back in time I would kill past me for even looking at her. It’s YOU I love, not her. It’s you, it’s always been you,” he gasped for breath, looking up at you. You paused.

“AAAAAAAND CUT! That was a great take everyone, go grab some lunch and be back in an hour to continue the shoot,” the director shouts, hopping off his pedestal.

You wiped your tears off, cursing the added tear stick as you laughed.

“Jesus Christ, that was a rough scene. How are you, baby?” You look down at him. Your smile was warm, a complete contrast to the character in the series you were acting in. Katsuki made no move to wipe his tears.

He rose slowly, before wrapping his arms around you tightly. He sniffled as he held you as close as possible, kissing the side of your face.

“Baby, are you alright? It was just a scene!” You giggle, kissing him on the forehead.

“If I ever make you sad like that, I need you to kill me. I would rather die than make you cry the way you just did,” he sniffed, wiping his nose and holding your cheeks.

“Aw sweetie. I know you’d never cheat on me. I love you so, so, so much. I guess we just did too good a job acting,” you giggle. You pull him in closer for a kiss, wiping his tears and playing with his baby hairs.

“I love you so much. Never ever forget that,” he says firmly. You nod, before squeezing out of his grip and tapping his ass playfully.

“Of course angel, now let’s get lunch. Sato made enchiladas and I’m craving them so badly,” you kiss him again. Katsuki’s phone beeped, and he checked before grimacing slightly.

“I’ll be right there babe, Eijiro’s complaining about something,” he says, squeezing your sides and sending you off.

You’re so fucking right, baby. He thought. His chest bloomed in pain. Ochaco’s bunched up tits stared right back at him in picture form, taunting him.

I did too good of an acting job.

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader angst #bakugou angst Drabble #MHA x reader angst #bnha x reader angst #actor au #bakugou angst #katsuki bakugou x reader angst

[gay-dorito-dust]

Damian thinking he can cure depression and all of your negative mindsets by letting you cuddle and hug Bat-Cow.

He’d personally drag you all the way to the barn and then promptly point towards the half-awake cow lounging in the farthest corner and with the straightest face he says;

‘Hug the cow y/n.’

You’re confused, you’re depressed and have told him so in confidence, and here he was demanding that you cuddle up to the bovine, who was staring at you both with their dark eyes.

‘Why?’ You’d ask, eyes never leaving the cow and Damian sighs impatiently. ‘It’ll cure your current aliment of depression.’ He says with such certainty that you almost believed him for a minute…almost.

‘Damian this is stupid, even for you-‘ however before you could finish your sentence, Damian was already pushing you from behind towards Bat-Cow, who only watched as you were positioned into their warm side, silently chewing before becoming disinterested and went back to resting their head on the floor.

Bat-cow didn’t smell the greatest but then again…they were a fucking cow but they were warm and fluffy and comfortable, so much so that you ended up cuddling further into them found yourself falling asleep almost instantaneously with a small smile on your lips. ‘Good Bat-Cow…’ you murmur sleepily as the bovine only huffs out hot air, unfazed at you cuddling them as everyone from Damian to even Jason had come once in a while to cuddle up into their side.

Damian made a satisfied noise and was about to leave when he noticed that there was a space big enough for him to slot himself against Bat-Cow also. He shifts he gazed all across the entire barn, making sure he wasn’t being observed somehow, before cuddling himself into the side of the large animal.

Damian wouldn’t find out until way later that he was indeed being observed as he chased after Tim throughout the manor, sword in hand.

Jason who loves to cuddle you as though it’s been forever since you last saw each other.

(It had been five minutes max, you needed to piss.)

He’d even make it his personal mission to carry you in his arms anywhere and everywhere he went in the apartment. He will not hear the cliche ‘I’m too heavy’ bullshit excuse, let him carry you in his arms damn it! He wants to hold you! Do not reject him this golden opportunity!

He doesn’t care if anyone like Bruce, Dick or Roy are present because if anything it shows them that he had someone in his life that he loved and adored more than anything. Roy/Dick -mainly Dick- may tease him to high heavens about it but Jason only shrugs it off and says albeit childishly: ‘well at least I have someone to hold onto every night unlike you dickhead.’ Before casually carrying you into the kitchen with him to grab a drink.

(Remember that ‘Gator needs his gat, you punk ass bitch.’ tiktok Trend where ppl picks up their friend? Yh that’s what goes on in my head when writing this.)

Jason fears as though he’s not spending enough time with you. Which is bullshit because this man spends every waking moment with you being cute and loving and just the absolute best in general.

He’s not use to the whole relationship thing and he’s overthinking everything he’s doing and worries that it might be the breaking limit for you. So all you got to do is hold his face in your hands, rest your head against his own and reassure him that he was spending more than enough time with you. It’ll probably won’t get rid of the notion that he wasn’t doing enough for you out of Jason’s head, but at least it was something that he could be reminded of when he was getting too lost in his thoughts.

He’s a worrywart and a big one at that, but as long as you keep being his anchor, keep being the reason his head feels a lot clearer and so on, then Jason will gradually come to learn that he never needs to worry about anything when you’re more than happy to keep reminding him that it’s okay to worry, and that he wasn’t being suffocating or otherwise.

Jason maybe physically imposing and intimidating to look at for some people but to you, he was like those badly stereotyped big dogs that are the biggest sweethearts. Dogs such as:

Rottweilers

XL bully dogs

Pit bull

Doberman Pinscher and more.

He’s a sweetheart who just looks intimidating, nothing more nothing less…unless you happen to be a criminal then Jason is anything but the word sweet or adorable as they’re getting their asses beaten.💀

Dick always asks you if you still love him after every minor inconvenience.

It doesn’t matter what happens or how it happens, he always give you those puppy dog eyes of his and pouts his lips. ‘Do you still love me?’

‘Dick we’ve been through this before, of course I love you.’ You’d reply.

‘But you looked really annoyed right now and I just wanted to know if you still like me enough to date me.’ He then says as he rests his head on your shoulder, pressing himself against your back.

You sighed before looking over at him and pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. ‘Does that clear everything up for you?’ You asked rhetorically as Dick beamed brightly and stole a kiss from your lips, reinvigorated. ‘Yep.’ He’d respond before moving on with the rest of his day.

If you were to accidentally forget to kiss him good morning or before you were leaving for work, Dick would take full offence as he places himself in front of the door, arms crossed and lips formed into that pout you were more then familiar with at this point. ‘You hate me.’

‘Dick I’m in a hurry!’ You cry, looking at the time.

‘And you forgot my good morning kisses!’ He’d cry back at you and you would be several minutes late to work, all because you were making up for the misses kisses. You hate Dick sometimes but you knew you couldn’t be mad at him for long when he’d smother in kisses upon arriving him from work, so you guessed he could be given a pass…just this once.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc x y/n #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne fluff #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader

[cherryspicest]

I'm here for you

Part 1 Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

Might not be the happiest Christmas, but surely she’ll make your holiday count.

Only if you could put in the emptiness of your heart inside the white blanket and leave it under throughout the day, you could’ve done it. Yet it was impossible, only to see yourself sitting on the white comfy bed with a pillow atop your legs, blanket tucked in between and your tummy as you rest your arms over the pillow. The pouring snowflakes outside the window was not enough to count Christmas’ for you—unless she replies back with a text.

You didn’t receive any message from Sullyoon again after she greets you Merry Christmas. Though it is a holiday season, a time where she would spend more of her day with her relatives, her active status that shows online throughout the day clears out the good thoughts running up in your mind.

A few hours ago, you called her friend Lily on the phone to ask about Sullyoon, and told you she is with them while you hear clanking bottles in the background. Even with the urge of asking her to give the phone to her, you rather shrugged it off—letting her enjoy the time with her friends even if she has left you like this. 

Enjoy your Christmas love! Call me if anything happens—You type into your phone, unmotivated

You feel pity for yourself, and yet still rather play stupid with all these scenarios that she would sometimes leave you. Throughout your life, losing your girlfriend is what you swore not to happen. One risky action driven by emotions is a sure path for the end of such promise.

You immediately throw the pillow and the blanket when you hear three soft knocks on the entrance door. Expecting it to be your girlfriend, but rather it was Wonyoung—your best friend—standing in front of you in a tight red dress, enough to shape out the perfect curvature of her body. She carries a paper handbag in the other hand with a small christmas tag stapled in it.

“Merry Christmas!” She greets with a sweet smile. 

Her usual smile - cute voice tone combo she always does never gets tiring. The fact that she only shows that side to you gives you the reason to value it. 

You let her in shortly. Her heels make soft thuds in every of her step while she makes her way towards the kitchen table to place her carriage. When she notices you never had anything to prepare, nor even ingredients and food around the kitchen, she flips around to look at you with widened eyes. 

“No food? You haven’t prepared anything for yourself?” She asks, and you push your lips. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

The silence from you was enough for her to take as she scoffs in disbelief. “That bitch didn’t even visit you here, Y/n?”

“Hey, you can’t call her that. She’s still my girlfriend though.”

“So what?” She rolls her eyes and groans. “Where is she?”

“I’m just letting her enjoy Christmas with her friends right now. If she’s happy there then, can I even do anything? I just want her to be happy.”

“No Y/n, you’re stupid. You’re here fucked up around your small apartment, looking helpless, and expecting her to show up in your door when she entirely chose to stay with her friends..”

“Wonyoung, she’s my girlfriend.”

“As if I care?” She raises an eyebrow. Her voice tone went deep and natural. “Plus I know things better, she’s your girlfriend, I’m your girl-best-friend. No wonder she doesn’t have the word best compared to me—because she’s .”

“Alright, no need to say it again.” You interrupt her, and she smirks.

The amount of slurs she said to your girlfriend was enough to make any guy pissed, though you’re not one of them as you take her words completely normal. That abrasive attitude would always show up whenever Sullyoon does something that she wouldn’t like. Insults, jokes, slurs everywhere like a typical male gaming lobby. 

“Chicken bucket? Fries? Steak? What do you want?” She continues scrolling on her phone, not bothering to look at you. “Caviar? Milk Tea? It’s all in me, don’t care if it's priced like Dior or Versace.”

“It’s your money.

“That’s why I’m asking you? I want my money to be wasted on something that would make you happy at least.”

You sigh. “You’re so cheesy, can you stop it for once.”

“I’m not being cheesy.” She grins. That pissed off look seems to disappear right away. “Just pointing out the reason why I’m asking you that.”

No buts, no what ifs, chicken bucket is what you chose, and Wonyoung came to agree with your decision. Tapping the add to cart, buy, then that’s it, the food will adjust for your lazy asses because you can’t head to the chicken store 2 streets away from your place.

The delivery arrives earlier than expected. There was no reason for Wonyoung to flex the thick amount of folded money inside her wallet before she opened the door—-and yet she still did. That action was unnecessary, but it's typical of her, she’d do such things to prove how lucky you are to be her best friend. 

“Are you attending some red carpet event with that dress?” 

She chuckles while pulling the bucket out from the paperbag. “You like it?”

“Probably yeah, it’s just funny you have to wear some luxurious shit just to visit me here.” You grab a drumstick from the bucket and take a bite. “I look poor around you.”

“I’d still appreciate it though.” She grabs a drumstick for herself too. “By the way, did she even greet you?”

“She did, atleast.”

“You even know the place is? Whom she is with?”

You sigh and grin. “What’s with the interrogation, Wonyoung? You sound like my mom whenever I arrive home.”

She pushes your shoulder, enough to move you an inch away. “Hey, I’m asking you? I don’t need your stupid side comments.”

“Come on, she’s with her friends, that’s it, I know she’d be safe anyways. The place?”

“Green flag Y/n?” 

You cross your arm and smile, proud of being called as one.

“No, you’re stupid. If I could only hit you with my heels right now, I would have right now.”

“Go ahead.”

“Uh? You’re really challenging me to do so? You know I don’t say shit that I wouldn’t do.”

You keep your attention on the TV in the living room . “Go ahead.”

Wonyoung’s words were never meant to only scare you away. You ready yourself when she puts down her drumstick over the table, and reaches for her heel. She raises her shoes at you, and you manage to grab her wrist at time. You feel her pushing you more and more, not minding what and where the direction you’re both into.

“You’re so weak, Wony.” You tease, and she lets out a hiss. Her narrowed eyes show how much she wants to win against you. 

“I hate you so much.” 

She groans, and seems to boost up her inner strength. You feel her force get heavier. In a moment, you start to move backwards, her expression is enough for you to see her desire to contest against you. It all stops when your back meets the refrigerator.

Your world seems to pause, everything feels slow. While your grasps are at both Wonyoung’s raised wrists, you didn’t realize how close you were both. Both of your eyes gazing into each other like two interlinked bridges that never get separated. Your breaths are the only ones you can hear between, yet it never stopped you from admiring your best friend’s visual.

You let go of her wrists, it was a weird feeling to remain that composure. The sense of awkwardness struck out of nowhere yet it is a better thing to shrug it off. 

When you make your way back to the table, she follows shortly in a slow pace like a little girl who broke a glass. She grabs her paper bag closer to her, revealing a wine bottle in her hand just as she pulls it out. It was the typical holiday type wine that rich people give their close ones, obviously the same level of status as them where you can’t relate. 

“Someone wasted an amount of stash again.” You joke.

“It’s just wine.” She rolls her eyes. “Stop acting like you never went to the same school as me. You think you forgot how your mom even paid for my private taxi when it was too late at night already.”

“It’s my mom, not me.” You notice her wandering around the kitchen as if she’s finding something. “And, the wine glasses are in the 4th cabinet up there.”

Clumsy Wonyoung as usual, always the struggle of finding something. She’d be losing her pens every single time back in freshman years where she’ll make up an excuse of her pen teleporting in an unknown dimension.

She hands you the glass, then pours the wine carefully in it. She does one for herself then motions to clank with you in which you accepted.

“A great holiday ahead.” She smiles, then sips into her wine glass. 

She’s too luxurious for you. The way you’d drink the wine glass like a milk in a cup, hoping it doesn’t look embarrassing, while she drinks it too formally as if you’re a CEO of some known brand.

Lowkey, you’re expecting some message from your girlfriend on your phone—-yet there was none. A single vibration from your pocket is enough to keep you alive—and there was none even. At least, Wonyoung is here to keep you stable and promising, a true friend who’d never leave you.

“Fuck, the hell even happened to her,” you mutter, pertaining to your girlfriend.

“Sorry?” Wonyoung pauses. 

She notices the phone in your hand which gave the reason for her smile to disappear slowly. She knows it, always your stupidity, but rather not show it to you and decided to continue sipping in her wine glass. 

“Ok, let’s do this,” says Wonyoung as she unexpectedly snatches your phone, then hides it behind her. “No phones tonight, we enjoy this day together like how we used to do when we were still at the same school.”

“Come on, give it back.” You walk closer, effortfully trying to grab your phone back.

“What if I don’t?” 

She places the phone on her other hand, giving you a hard time reaching it unless you wrap your hand around hers.

“Friendship over then.” 

“Is that so?” She stretches her arm down. 

That phone is what all you wanted, and the urge of snatching it back from her is heating you up. No matter how awkward things may be, you come closer and grab her wrist behind, ignoring the close proximity between you and her as if you are cuddling like couples. Her grip on your phone was surprisingly strong that it might take you a little why before you can forcefully free it. 

She looks at you in mischief, then a smirk forms into the corner of her lips. 

“Let’s break our friendship then,” she says softly, and you feel the warmth of her breath on your neck, “chingu geu isang-eul wonhanikkayo”.

“So what did you just say to me?”

“Want me to translate it for you?” 

A quick second glance on your lips, then she leans forward to press her lips into yours. There was no time to react, nor escape in this scenario. You feel your heart skip a beat when you feel her lips on yours, slowly accepting the fact she’s kissing you right now.

The kiss was getting deeper. She slowly wraps her arms around your neck while she pulls you even closer. You feel her tongue asking for entrance, and there was no reason for not to welcome it. She lets out a soft moan when you wrap your hands around her hips. Now it’s a make out session—with your alluring, old best friend that you’ve known more than any you’ve met.

You wanted it so badly. These hormones heat you up as if you wanted to get undressed and finish right away. Yet there was a hold back, a sense of stop like there were chains around your wrists, no matter how much you wanted to continue, it does not let you.

Placing your fingers on her chin was enough for her to stop and pull away. 

“Wonyoung, I can’t. I’m sorry, this is ridiculous.” You shake your head while you avoid her eyes, pulling away as you distance yourself. “I can’t cheat on my girlfriend, you know this is wrong right?” 

“I know it’s wrong,” she contests. “But that’s the only way for you to understand my feelings. 

“Wony–”

“Yes, you’re right. I fucking love you, and I don’t understand why do you have to be numb throughout the years we’ve been together.” She keeps her eyes locked at you. “Because every time I confess, you always think I’m fooling with you, or either way I’m drunk, crazy, or stressed. And here my stupid ass is going to pretend it is because I don’t want to embarrass myself!”

The atmosphere between you two seemed to set upside down when you once heard that deep natural voice from her—it was a cue for her seriousness. Your feelings are mixed like scattered tin cans, nothing specific, hard to distinguish. You just wanted to leave and smell the fresh air outside to calm yourself down, yet you didn’t want to leave Wonyoung like this either.

“I don’t understand.” There’s nothing you could do but leave your mouth open. “That must be the wine.”

She forces a smile, scoffing as she begins to nod lightly while her eyes appear teary. “Yeah, must be the wine, this fucking wine. It’s always me or any shit you would see just to make me look crazy.”

“Come on, do we have to come at this point? Wonyoung you know it’s hard for me to understand this, I have a girlfriend, and . . . “

She picks up her small sling bag from the bar chair, and looks at you, fixing her hair. “I know, you have Sullyoon. It’s my fault as well, I shouldn’t have been this fragile likewise.” She sniffs and moves a few strands in her hair. “I think it’s better for me to go, Merry Christmas.”

“Wonyoung.”

Calling her name was not enough to make her stop from walking out of your apartment. The silence was loud, and you flowed with it.

You find yourself standing emptily  like a mannequin as you watch the door close itself. Everything that happened flows quickly, one an action that can’t be undone, and it’s all gone. That kiss is enough to change how you see your best friend anymore.

#wonyoung #ive #ive wonyoung #izone wonyoung #jang wonyoung #girl groups #izone #long post

[angelichoneycomb]

i’m gonna go lay on the ground and daydream and pretend i’m loved

#vent tw #i’m literally. never in anybodys thoughts i’m not in the top 1000 unless they need a space to fill #i feel so stupid being this desperate for attention all the time bc it’s like #you are the worlds perfect person! the only reason they aren’t groveling at ur feet is bc they’re dumb #but also you’re a fucking idiot for thinking anybody would want to be around stfu and leave them alone you desperate bitch #and like i shouldn’t need attention 24/7 that’s exhausting for everyone around me #but goddamn do i need it. bc who else will give it to me #i don’t have any close relationships tbh. my entire life is a lie. i’ve been lying to all of you and you could never know what about. #my age my name my likes and dislikes my favorite characters my lifestyle my parents what if it’s all a sympathy ploy #you don’t know me

[a-chip-in-inosukes-nichirin]

Flash, Flirt, Fuck

Fandom: Demon Slayer/Kimetsu no Yaiba

Rating: Mature/Explicit - Minors DNI (18+ only)

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Sanemi/Reader

Tags: College AU, flashing you classmate, oral sex, penis in vagina sex, unprotected sex, spin-the-bottle, truth or dare, light banter, AFAB reader, mildly dubious consent (due to alcohol), wingman Makio, switch reader

Wordcount: 3.4k

Flash your crush or eat your friend's potentially hazardous takeout leftovers? The dare is a no-brainer, even if your crush happens to have permanent resting bitch face and has made a few of the college freshmen almost piss themselves in fear. You know he's not all hard edges, so what's the harm?

Cross-posted from my AO3 account.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I dare you to flash Sanemi,” Makio slurred, the four drinks she’d slammed starting to affect her speech.

You laughed, taking a sip of your spiked lemonade- the only alcoholic drink you could handle as the lightweight of your college group. You were barely on your second and already feeling quite the buzz; chest light and a weightlessness to your limbs that would turn to lead once the booze began to wear off.

“You want me to walk all the way to the boy’s hall to flash Sanemi? The resident hardass?”

Makio grinned, bringing the amber bottle to her lips and keeping eye contact while she took a deep pull. It was always astonishing to watch her retain most of her fine motor skills even when sloshed to high heaven while you would fail a drunk driving test sober.  You’d already missed your mouth once, resulting in a rapidly drying spot on your shirt that still smelled like booze.

“You gonna take the penalty instead?”

“Ew, no,” you waved your hand, cringing at the idea of having to eat whatever leftover (and probably moldy) food was stuffed in the back of Suma’s fridge. The girl had a habit of forgetting takeout and growing new strains of bacteria that should probably be classified as hazardous waste and disposed of as such. “I like my life, thank you.”

“It’s not that bad!” Suma sipped her drink, lip wobbling. “I cleaned it out last month. You guys are so meaaaaan!”

“Get going, then,” Shinobu waved you off, smiling lazily and swirling the glass of wine she was nursing. “And one of us will tail you to make sure you don’t chicken out.”

“I’m glad you all will be enjoying this,” you stood, almost toppling over as the floor swayed. “Because I’m 100% sure I’ll be getting chewed out for flashing my tits instead of the thanks I deserve for blessing him with this view.”

“You can cry yourself to sleep later,” Makio called after you, laughter from the large group echoing behind you, a stupid, drunk smile still on your face.

The boy’s hall was one floor down, and you didn’t trust yourself on the stairs, so you had to wait for the elevator. Heat rolled off your skin from the warmth of the room you’d just left- it had been near suffocating with the bodies of all your friends pressed together in a game of Spin-the-Bottle. The suggestion had come from Mitsuri, and the rest of you agreed, eager for some fun and laughs. The dares had started off simple, as had the truths, devolving into more debauched and crazy requests as the alcohol hit everybody’s systems.

The elevator doors finally opened, and you entered, mashing the button for the floor below yours while leaning against the wall languidly.

It was Hinatsuru who’d actually gotten you into this predicament, if you really thought about it. The conversation had turned to the boy’s hall earlier on in the game, around the time you’d chosen truth on your turn.

“Fuck, marry, kill,” Hinatsuru said. “With Tengen, Sanemi, and Kyojuro.”

Your answer had surprised everyone, leaving mouths agape around the entire circle when you chose to off the infamous lady-killer Tengen, marry the college heart-throb Kyojuro, and fuck Sanemi Shinazugawa. No explanation was provided in the following uproar, but you hadn’t been so drunk as to miss the devious sparkle that lit in Makio’s eyes. She’d been waiting for you to choose “dare” and pounced the moment the words had left your lips.

Now you were stumbling down the hall, counting doors until you reached room 413. You paused for a fraction of a second, wondering if you should think through the all the possibly embarrassing outcomes, but didn’t let the hesitation sway your resolve. Rapping on the door, you tucked a stray hair behind your ear. A few moments passed and you wondered if maybe Sanemi was out, and you wouldn’t have to complete the dare. Maybe you’d get a pass (and also wouldn’t have to consume any of the potentially fatal food from Suma’s fridge).

The universe had other plans, however, as the door opened to reveal a scowling white-haired man. The black sweats he wore hung low on his hips, a white undershirt clinging to his torso and leaving his shoulder bare. The jagged scars across his entire body did nothing to hinder the butterflies starting to dance in your gut at the sight of him.

He’d been your crush since you started school, and until tonight you’d hidden it pretty well.  Almost everyone thought he was a grumpy asshole (which he could be sometimes), and you’d even been half-frightened to death the first time you’d seen him, his sharp voice making your heart stutter in fear, but the trepidation quickly faded as you watched him interact with faculty and some of the younger students. He was respectful, if blunt, and even if he was a bit harsh on the new kids, he went out of his way to make sure they got to the right classes. You’d caught the tail end of his conversation with what you assumed was his younger brother a few weeks back that solidified your perception of him to be correct: he was a big softie underneath that prickly exterior.

It also didn’t hurt that Sanemi was gorgeous to look at. He obviously took good care of himself, and had stunning features: lavender eyes, white hair, and long lashes. He wasn’t as tall as some of the other guys in school, like Tengen, but you didn’t give a flying fuck when his body looked like that and his voice had that raspy growl when he spoke.

“What do you want?”

The flat tone broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality where Sanemi stood with his arms crossed and a bored look on his face. As much as you felt like throwing up from the way your nerves were turning the butterflies in your stomach into poisonous slugs, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and flipped it up. The cool air of the hall raised gooseflesh on your stomach and tits, and you almost shivered.

The look on Sanemi’s face went from blank, to confused, to alarmed in less than a second, and you wished you could have recorded it to watch later. You dropped your top back down, tilted your head with a coy smirk, and clasped your hands behind your back as you took a step back, turning on your heel to head back to your friends without a word, dare complete.

“What the hell-”

A hand encircled your wrist and you paused, looking back at Sanemi.

“Yeah?”

Sanemi looked lost, an expression you hadn’t expected to see on his face after your little display. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the faintest blush dusting his ears and the high point of his cheek bones.

“What was that for?” he demanded, finally finding his voice.

“A dare,” you shrugged, answering before your brain caught up with your mouth.

He let go of your hand, straightening and recovering his usual pissy frown. You stayed rooted to where you were, staring at him with a curious gaze.

“Just a dare? Not… ‘cause you wanted to?”

He sounded borderline petulant if your ears were hearing things right. You kicked aside your nerves to step closer, meeting his eyes and getting uncomfortably close to him.

“Can’t it be both?”

He swallowed, eyes flickering down to your parted lips.

“Is… it?”

You lidded your eyes, grinning up at him, a breath away from his face. His own eyes were starting to grow a bit hazy with want, sending a thrill through you.

“Why don’t you use some context clues?”

“Why don’t you spell it out for me?” he countered, hands coming up to rest gently on your hips.

You caught your lip between your teeth, sliding your fingers under the edges of the narrow white straps of his tank top and tugging him closer.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Sanemi’s arms were around you before you realized it, and your world was literally turned on its head as he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. A doorframe passed your view, and the creak and slam let you know that you were inside his room before he threw you onto the bed, eyes filled with lust.

“Say the word,” he caged you in with his arms. “And I’ll stop.”

“What do I say to make you keep going?” you asked playfully, sliding your hands down his chest.

Sanemi made a noise in his throat, surging forward to capture your lips with his. His tongue danced along your teeth and you nipped at his lower lip, wrapping your arms around his neck. Sage green covers crumpled under your back as you writhed under the feeling of his thumbs rubbing circles just above your hip bones.

“I didn’t get a good look at these earlier,” Sanemi pulled back breathlessly, hooking his fingers under your shirt and lifting it to your chin. “Open.”

You obeyed, and Sanemi stuffed the hem of your top into your mouth, making you hold it up while he dropped to lavish your breasts with attention. One calloused thumb pad brushed over the pebbled nub, sending sparks throughout your body, whimpers escaping around the fabric clenched in your teeth. His tongue pressed against the other nipple, enveloping it in heat. You tried to draw your legs up, but Sanemi forced them apart with one knee, pressing into your crotch. You squirmed against it, trying to get friction, not caring if you looked desperate.

Sanemi pulled back, relieving you completely of your shirt as he tugged it over your head. Your mouth finally free, you propped yourself up on your elbows to chase his lips. He obliged you, letting the taste of his mouth fill yours, a hand dropping to trace your skin with blunt fingertips. Everything was heady from alcohol and lust, and you giggled against his touch. It was like a dream: you and Sanemi.

The hunger for more was quickly sinking its teeth into your stomach.

You pushed yourself up, forcing Sanemi’s compliant form back until he was sitting on his knees. Hands found their way to his waistband, and he assisted in removing the offending fabric. Hot, moist breath fanned over his erect member, one of his hands already buried in your hair. You pressed the flat of your tongue to the underside, licking up and reveling in the sharp intake of breath above you.

“Fuck,” Sanemi groaned.

You took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the dark pink head to hear those lovely noises that he tried desperately to hold back escape from his throat. Scarred hands had threaded through your hair and gripped tightly, controlling your movements. Spit dripped down the sides of his dick and clung at the corners of your mouth as Sanemi fucked your face, eyes locked on where his cock slipped in and out of your swollen lips.

“Shit,” he cursed, pulling you off of him after a particularly deep thrust that had left you gagging around him. “Are you-”

“Good,” you assured him, eyes half closed in contentment, flickering downwards as you caught your lips between your teeth.

“Lay down,” Sanemi instructed, an amused smile creeping onto his face as you scrambled to obey.

He moved to between your legs, a hand dropping to slide against the bundle of nerves at the apex of your sex. You whimpered, wriggling against his touch and clutching the sheets with both hands.

“Touch your tits,” Sanemi said. “Since you were so intent on showing off earlier.”

You flushed a deep ruddy color, hands hesitantly coming up to brush over your breasts as a sliver of embarrassment wormed its way into your brain. Sanemi watched your face, your own gaze obscured by lowered lashes and intent on staring at his hand moving at your core.

“Look at me,” he commanded, drawing your eyes to his. “Say my name.”

“S-Sanemi.”

Now that Sanemi was controlling the situation, you found yourself more nervous and unsure of yourself, not used to having the attention on you like this during sex: his smoldering intense gaze and demand for eye contact unsettled- but also thrilled- you.

“Again,” Sanemi pressed one finger against your entrance.

“Sanemi…” you swallowed, body tensing involuntarily.

“Relax,” he lowered himself down until his breath warmed your neck, pressing kisses against your throat. “Say it again.”

“Sanemi-”

Your voice pitched up at the end of his name as his finger plunged into you, velvet walls clenching at the intrusion. Sanemi swore under his breath, rolling his hips against the mattress in time with the slow thrusts of his finger inside of you, slowly pressing another in alongside it after a minute. Your whole body rippled and clenched, searching for more stimulation and touch, arms wrapping around Sanemi’s broad shoulders.

“More, please,” you whined into his hair.

“Already? You sure you’re ready?” Sanemi asked, lifting his head to look you in the eye.

You nodded, furrowing your brow and frowning. Sanemi tried to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips and cleared his throat to cover a laugh at your pout. His fingers withdrew from the warmth of your body, making you gasp. He readjusted, positioning himself at your entrance, and you could swear you saw his hands tremble from excitement.

“Fffffu-” Sanemi’s swear was cut off as you clenched around him.

As much as you tried to relax, the pressure between your legs made your body flex and tense. It wasn’t making Sanemi’s job any easier- although from the look on his face, you assumed it wasn’t exactly a bad thing.

“Shit, you’re so- fuck-”

The garbled praise stroked your ego. You wiggled your hips, feeling a bit of satisfaction when Sanemi grabbed them to keep you from moving, face turning pink as his mouth fell open.

“D-don’t do that. Give me a second.”

“Aww,” you crooned, teasing a bit. “Pussy too good?”

“Shut up,” he scowled (not a true scowl, you noted with delight) and pulled his hips back, snapping into you with a ferocity you didn’t expect. A gasp escaped your lips and your own cheeks pinked.

The pace was slow but steady; deep strokes dragging against your plush walls. Each time he plunged into you it felt like he pressed farther in, hitting deeper and deeper until you were sure he couldn’t get any more in your guts than he was, only to be proven wrong. You were breathless as each thrust forced the air from your lungs in a choked whimper, Sanemi’s hips bruising the back of your thighs with the amount of force he applied in retaliation for your teasing.

Your eyes threatened to roll back into your skull, mouth open in a silent cry, tits bouncing with each slap of skin.

“What’s the matter?” Sanemi taunted, throwing your words back into your face. “Dick too good?”

You whimpered a reply, digging your hands into the covers that had rucked up around your head from all the movement. The ridges of the ropy scars adorning his hips were quickly imprinting themselves into the skin of your backside from the harsh impact of each thrust. Sanemi’s pale skin had flushed across his chest and cheeks from the exertion, heat rolling off his figure in waves. A faint sheen of sweat covered both of your bodies, glittering in the low light of Sanemi’s bedside lamp as lewd sounds filled the air.

Your keens began to pitch upwards at the end as Sanemi adjusted the angle he fucked into you at, curling his body over yours and pressing his lips against your collarbone as you released the sheets to anchor your hands in his hair once again. Dark marks painted the column of your neck and along your decollete, purple and damp from Sanemi’s mouth. His hips stuttered against yours, movements starting to become frantic and erratic as your legs instinctively locked around his waist, drawing him closer. He snaked one hand down between the two of you, fumbling fingers flicking your clit with a marked lack of the earlier finesse he’d displayed.

You legs flexed, core winding tighter until a well-timed thrust had you spilling over the edge, his name tearing from your throat. The fluttering of your lush walls around him as you came was Sanemi’s undoing, his own orgasm ripping through him as he groaned your name in a hungry desperation, hips still rutting into you even as the bliss began to fade. It was as if he didn’t want it to end, pushing himself impossibly closer to you and locking his arms around your neck in an embrace as his body slowed to a standstill, half-crushing you under his weight.

“Stay for a bit?”

The faint request was mumbled breathlessly, almost inaudible. You cracked open your eyes, which had fluttered shut in ecstasy earlier. Sanemi was propped on his elbows, half-hovering over you. The tension rose again, something in his eyes melting your heart into a warm sludge that settled in your stomach.

The moment was shattered by a loud voice shouting just outside Sanemi’s door.

 “You have five seconds to become decent before I come in!”

Shinobu’s voice wasn’t hard to recognize, and your face went white. Sanemi threw his shirt at you, grabbing his pants and shoving both feet in, comically wiggling them on. His shirt was just long enough to cover up the important parts on you, even if your nipples were a bit visible through the thin material. The door flung open (Shinobu had granted you an extra second, which you were thankful for) to reveal the dark-haired woman standing with one hand on her hip, the other holding the door wide. The rest of your friends were accumulated behind her, peering around and over her shoulders in varying degrees of shock and delight at your compromising position.

Sanemi glanced between your embarrassed face and the group of girls blocking his door. You could see him put two and two together in his head.

“Did you all have to tail me?” you covered your red face with your hands.

“I take it I have one of them to thank for that dare?” Sanemi’s resting bitch face was back in action as he left the bed, striding over to the group.

“You’re welcome,” Makio raised her bottle in a lazy salute.

“I’ll send you a thank-you card later,” Sanemi took control of the door back from Shinobu. “In the meantime; I’d appreciate it if you’d stop clogging up the hall.”

“I can’t believe she’d rather fuck you than Tengen,” Makio shook her head, pushing off the wall.

“Tengen?” Sanemi raised a brow.

“She chose to kill Tengen in Fuck, Marry, Kill,” Suma offered. “And to Fuck you.”

“Suma!” you groaned. “Can you all just leave?”

Sanemi leaned lazily against the door.

“So is that why you dared her to fuck me?”

There was a chorus of laughter, none louder than Makio’s. Sanemi raised his brows, watching the woman doubled over in laughter.

“We never dared her to sleep with you,” Makio finally straightened, wheezing. “Just to flash her tits.”

The door slammed in their faces, Sanemi’s back to you as he locked it. You swallowed, hands holding the hem of his shirt down over your thighs as you sat in his bed. Sanemi’s shoulders heaved as if he was taking deep breaths.

“You… didn’t get dared to fuck me?”

Sanemi spun on his heel, in front of you before you realized it. His lavender eyes locked with yours. It took a second for you to notice the cocky smile playing on his lips.

“No, but I wanted to, though,” you wet your lips, eyes roving over Sanemi’s face. “Does it matter?”

His lips pulled back to reveal a full smile, something you’d never seen before. His hands came up to either side of your face. When his face was a fraction away from yours, he paused, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Hell-fucking-no,” he growled, surging forward to catch your mouth with his.

Outside the room and down the hall, the gaggle of girls waited at the elevator, voices not exactly quiet.

“Why did you make her flash Sanemi?” Mitsuri asked Makio. “You know he can be… rough around the edges. What if he’d… not been into it.”

Makio laughed.

“A little birdie told me Sanemi had a bit of a crush on a certain someone,” the blonde tossed her empty bottle into a trash receptacle. “And I had a perfect opportunity to play matchmaker. Why shouldn’t I?”

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #ao3 writer #fanfic #fanfiction #sanemi shinaguzawa #kny sanemi #kny smut #demon slayer smut #college au

[loose-angel]

Big Brother | Neteyam

pairing: Brother!Neteyam x sister!reader, Brother!Lo'ak x sister!reader summary: A day in the life of older brother Neteyam Sully w/c: 613 notes: i recently hit 100 followers while i wrote this little drabble!! thank u all so much >.< i hope u enjoy this xD im on a streak w the sibling fics and drabbles its just so much fun to write!!

It was not uncommon that you and Lo’ak would get into arguments, almost always they are about petty things, who was the fastest, who’s better at hunting, who makes the better meal, etc. So it wasn’t rare that the Sully family would walk in on your childish arguments, though unfortunately, it was Neteyam who had the luck to run into the both of you.

“Lo’ak just admit you’re a pussy bitch and this can be over.” You rolled your eyes.

“No way in hell! I told you, we need a rematch and it’ll be fair,” Loak grunted, crossing his arms over his chest, turning away from you.

Neteyam sighed. He really wasn’t in the mood to play ‘most responsible person in the world’ right now, but duty calls.

The eldest Sully approaches the both of you, “Hey, hey, what’s all this fighting about?”

“This skxawng and I did a race of whoever got the first kill and I won but Lo’ak says it ‘cuz he heard a thanator and had to hide for the first few minutes.” You whined to your older brother, earning an appalled gasp from his brother. 

“Hey! You can’t go sucking up to him just ‘cause you’re his ‘little princess’!” Lo’ak mocked in a high pitch tone, his hands flying around wildly.

“Listen, listen, I’m not taking anyones’ side, both of you are skxawngs.” Neteyam exhaled, crossing his arms over his chest, “Now, no more fighting, or I’m telling mom and dad.” The eldest says, mostly directed towards his brother. 

“Ya, you skxawng, scurry off.” You scoffed, sticking your tongue out at your brother, playfully poking at his torso.

Lo’ak hissed at you, brows furrowing.

“Princess, you’re provoking him,” Neteyam shook his head. Yet you paid no mind, continuing with your teasing. 

You poked Lo’ak once more before he hissed and pounced at you. The two of you begin fighting, with Lo’ak pulling at your braids and you pulling on his ear. Grunts and whines bounce against the leaves of the hometree, the pair of you rolling around and knocking into the bark of the tree. 

“Ow! Bro she has my ears! She has my ears! Get her off!”

“Let go of my fucking hair!”

Neteyam sighs once again, he can never have just one peaceful day, can he? He struts over to the two of you. At this point you’re now straddling Lo’ak, pulling on his hair as he throws meek punches to your torso. 

Neteyam picks you up without a second thought, “No more fighting, please.” you squirm in your brother’s hold but ultimately cannot fight against it. The eldest Sully reaches out a hand and helps Lo’ak up.

At just the right timing, Kiri walks in. She pauses to observe the scene, before shrugging and going on about her business. 

“My ears really hurt,” Lo’ak muttered under his breath, a stupid pout forming on his lips. 

“Okay, go ask Kiri for help,” Neteyam nods his head in his sister’s direction. Lo’ak begrudgingly struts over to where Kiri is. 

You remain beside Neteyam, eyes wandering to the ground, which was suddenly so interesting. 

“Now you, I don’t know why you continue to cause trouble baby,” Neteyam points, looking down at you with disappointment. You shift from foot to foot. Luckily enough, his soft side for you remains, the slip of a pet name indicating he’s not entirely mad at you.

Yet you chuckle nervously, “I won’t anymore, promise.”

Neteyam rolls his eyes at your promise. As if you hadn’t said the same thing a few days ago. Though he takes a look at your disheveled state, and decides to let it pass.

“Come, I’ll fix your braids.”

#neteyam #neteyam sully #loak sully #loak #kiri #kiri sully #avatar #avatar way of water #neteyam x sister!reader #loak x sister!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #loak x reader #loak x y/n #loak x you #drabble

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER FIVE — CHEERLEADERS MAKE BAD NEIGHBORS

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summary: after you get kicked off the cheerleading squad by an enraged tina, you're stranded in a rainstorm of biblical proprtions- and the only safe haven is eddie munson's trailer. fuck. content warnings: MINORS DNI I'M NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU HERE- male masturbation, sexualized language, some mild objectification, cursing, smoking, drinking, drug mention, reader backstory (i do it for the plot the plot the plot), steve harrington cameo, reader is a pretentious bitch word count: 10.1k

Dear reader, Joan Didion said something because Joan Didion is always saying something. Particularly to me. She comes at me hard, smacking me in the back of the head with perfect clarity and I have not gotten around to not resenting her for it yet. 

‘I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not.’

Joan Didion probably did not have to stay on nodding terms with a girl she used to be in order to score a cheerleading scholarship because her family blitzed her college fund on ill-chosen legal advice. 

But she’s got a point.  

You remember that day with perfect clarity. 

Middle school had been a lesson in elocution, thanks to your then-best friend Phoebe’s older sister Casey. Phoebe was a relic of your former life– a bookish indoor kid with Coke bottle glasses, a slight stammer and a distinct lack of style. Despite this, you loved Phoebe and she loved you. But more than that, more than anything, you loved that Phoebe had an older sister. 

A cool older sister. 

Casey was popular in the best way, which is to say that she wasn’t showy about it but she wasn’t humble either. By recognizing the power of being hot and likeable, she knew nothing could ever touch her. 

You wanted to be just like that. 

You remember the first time Casey told you you’ve got potential. Her hand-me-downs were a little too big for Phoebe, because Casey had boobs and Phoebe’s hadn’t come in yet. Even as a pre-teen, you knew an opportunity when you saw it. Can I try that top? And you did, flipping your hair and adjusting yourself in the mirror just like you’d watched Casey do a hundred times, sitting on her bedroom floor and soaking up her knowledge while Phoebe moaned and sulked about being bored. 

Check you out, hot stuff, Casey had smirked, but not in a way where you felt stupid. You’ve got potential.

The shirt didn’t feel entirely right on you, but the way Casey regarded you did. 

Fast forward– your first day of freshman year. You were in the parking lot, stepping out of the passenger side of Casey’s car. Phoebe slid out of the back seat, shoulders slumped forward. You were dressed in an outfit that you and Casey spent hours agonizing over the night before–first impressions are everything, girl–while, again, Phoebe looked on glaring. 

Come meet some of the crew, Casey said, pointedly to you and not to Phoebe. 

Hey– I thought were were going to find our homerooms together, Phoebe protested, grabbing you by the elbow. She knew she wasn’t invited. And she didn’t care– she’d never cared for Casey and her ‘airhead ways’, as she so derisively called them. 

Yeah, girl! you affirmed, a note-perfect impression of her older sister. Phoebe’s big eyes flared with disbelief. You’d spent junior high carefully studying Casey’s every movement, absorbing and adopting her behaviors as your own. Stella Adler would have loved your ass. Don’t worry about it. I’ll catch up with you later, ‘kay?

Make a move, freshman! Casey yelled, and you came trotting after her. There would be no catching up later, and you knew that. You bit back the sinking in your stomach with a Bonne Bell-glossed smile. 

Look, I love my sister, Casey murmured, but I’m glad that you’re my little freshman experiment, ‘kay? You are way more fun that Phoebs and her goddamn library card. 

You nodded, wordlessly grateful. Way more fun. The older girl confiding in you like this made you feel warm, included, grown-up. But not quite so grown-up that you remembered to watch where you were going– the laces of your left Chuck Taylor All-Stars came undone, sending you tripping– tripping–

Oof! Right into the muscular arms of Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington and his autumn colored eyes, his swathe of hair that seemed to grow more voluminous the more girls he flirted with, his shock of grown-up cologne and his perfect, perfect, perfect smile.

But it wasn’t just Steve Harrington. It was also all the surrounding popular kids that had already made a name for themselves coming up alongside you in middle school–Tina, Carol and her boyfriend Tommy Hagan–mingling with the older kids. 

You okay? Steve asked, his voice all breathy and cute the way boys voices are when they’re halfway making fun of you. 

Uh-huh, you nodded, lashes fluttering like crazy as you wracked your brain for something smart to say. 

Let me help you out here.

Then Steve did something you never thought possible, something right out of your daydreams. He got down on one knee and started to re-tie your shoe. 

Better watch yourself, Lacy, he said, tightening the bunny ears, gazing right up at you, Wiping out on the first day is not a good look.

Lacy. Lacy. Your heartbeat quickened at the nickname, hammering like hummingbird wings. It was the greatest thing you’d ever heard– it makes you feel fresh. New. Seen for the first time. Seen by Steve Harrington for the first time. 

Can you blame me? you said before you knew you were saying it; a common occurrence with you, You’re just too easy to fall for, Harrington. 

You drawled out too easy like you’re making fun of him, which of course you weren’t, because he’s Steve Harrington and you would never– but it earned some warm guffaws from the surrounding kids and a little ugh, please, from Tommy Hagan. 

Hagan’s something else. Hagan’s hated you since day dot, and you him. You remember his merciless teasing of some kid during Nancy Wheeler’s thirteenth birthday party, the last boy-girl party of your middle school careers, goading that they were too chicken to go into the closet with you for Seven Minutes in Heaven.

Steve grinned at you, eyebrows quirking upward. A fizzing feeling ran through your sternum and you felt like you might faint. Casey threw an arm around your shoulder, a magnet for attention. Well, it looks like some of you already know my little Lacy! You guys better be fuckin’ cool to her, okay, or else you’ve got me to answer to. 

You smiled up at her, the older sister you’d always prayed for, and she looked impressed with you. That’s all you wanted. That’s all you craved. That, and for Steve Harrington and everybody else to never quit calling you Lacy. 

And they didn’t.

Everything you’d gleaned from Casey equipped you to cruise through freshman year with no speedbumps, no checkpoints– you knew exactly how to wear your hair, how to flirt, how not to flirt, what not to eat, who not to be seen with… and even better than that, these people really took a shine to you. The girls especially.

Hawkins isn’t kind to teenage girls. It’s heavy with passive-aggressive Midwestern sensibility, with all the backwards, misogynistic attitude that comes along with that. It’s not overt, it’s insidious. It makes sense that these girls were scared. Few women make it out of here, and look at the ones that don’t. Their mothers. Your mother.

But what was even scarier was to want something more. To strive for better and be met with the begrudgery of your attempt. To think about life outside the snowglobe of this wicked little town. 

That's the thing with wanting. It doesn’t leave you alone. It gnaws at you while you zone out in the cafeteria, churning around with the half fat yogurt in your stomach. It finds you in the middle of the night, awake on the floor of your friend Carol’s room after an evening of pounding secret wine coolers and picking apart the rest of the Hawkins student body for their flaws and faults, looking around at your friends and thinking, 

God, I fucking hate these people. God, I’ve got to get out.

And you were working on it. Like a motherfucker, you were working on it– perfect grades, perfect attendance, the perfect extracurriculars in an excruciating balancing act with your demanding social life. Keep your record spotless and you could fly the coop to any college you wanted.

One such extracurricular was–is cheerleading. And god, you were great. You’re a flyer, one of the shining, pretty faces responsible for revving up the Hawkins Tigers and their adoring fans. Given your propensity for perfectionism, it’s an obvious position for you. Tina, the reigning captain of the cheer squad, had even taken you under her wing and spit shined up your back handsprings when you tried out as a freshman. Tina had a prior career as a child gymnast, making her a shoo-in for the title come senior year. And here she is now, hollering you all into formation. 

It’s Thursday, and it’s still the week from hell. You had almost forgot about cheer practice, but here you are, in your green and white and gold, ponytail too tight and bruise fading out. The tension between you and Tina casts a thick haze over the gym, the other, less-clued-in members of the squad not exactly knowing where to look. 

It probably wasn’t fair, outing Tina and her indiscretion with Hagan like that. But you felt like a cornered animal. It was all you could do, after all of them subtly chipping away at you for weeks when you’d done nothing but be there for them. Wiped their tears. 

Bought their crabs lotion, in Tina’s case. 

“Sloppy, Lacy! Again!” She’s drilling you like you’ve never been drilled before. Each twist and flip you perform, she finds something wrong with it– and you can’t even tell her she’s wrong. You have gotten sloppy, because your head’s not in the game. While cheerleading was a social and athletic high at one time, it wasn’t high on your list of priorities right now. Dismounting your bases and tugging your ponytail ever tighter over your skull, you stalk towards her. 

“Alright, Tina!” you yell, bubbling over with frustration. “How about you just drop the Russian gym coach bit and tell me what I’m doing wrong? Or is yelling at me all you got?” 

She does her best attempt at a withering glare. You can’t help but think it looks like something she learned from you. “How about I show you instead?”

Tina shoulder checks you, hard, and calls to one of the underclassmen. A mousy sophomore with sandy bangs and blazing Bambi eyes. This kid looks terrified, and knowing Tina’s reputation, she should be. “Cunningham! You’re up!”

Chrissy Cunningham. Right. Heir to the throne of Hawkins High. You don’t think you’ve heard her speak more than a couple of words and most of those have been in response to her Aryan meathead boyfriend, Jason Carver. 

But for what Cunningham lacks in vocal force, she makes up for in aerodynamics. This girl makes a basket toss look like ballet, ponytail pirouetting as she lands in the bases’ arms. Every move, faultless. She’s locked in. 

“That is what I want. What I don’t want, Lacy, is a flyer that looks like she’s losing control of her rectum mid-toss,” Tina hollers. “We all know how crucial this weekend is. Not just for us, but for the Tigers, too. Right? So that means the last thing we need is dead weight dragging us down.” She locks her laserlike stare on you. “Right?”

The squad mumbles in the affirmative. Chrissy Cunningham visibly gulps.

And you? A knife slices right through you, cold and exacting. You almost gag, trying to swallow through your thickening throat. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

“You tell me, Lace. You’re the one that knows everything.”

You don’t waste a second of time trying to counter-argue, because you can’t be sure it won’t end in your limbs flailing, trying to smash Tina’s head against the waxed floorboards of the gym. Instead, you grab your bag. You give the squad a grimacing nod and head to heave the double doors open. 

The sound of your sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor makes you want to tear your shoes off and throw them through a window, just to watch the glass shatter.

You really never thought of yourself as a violent person, not until– everything happened. 

But now, god, now you just want to punch and tear and rip everything apart. This slow burn of your social status, your friends, your tether to reality as you know it slipping away is torturous. You’d rather burn it all up than let it swallow you whole. 

Standing on the front steps of the school, your eyes automatically dart to the parking lot. 

It’s not there. He’s not there.

And why would he be? you think, starting in the direction of the trailer park. You hadn’t spoken to him since that day in the record store, leaving him hanging with his hands behind his back and his mouth in that grin.

There was a reason for that. Call it post-high clarity or something else, but you knew right then you needed to focus the fuck up. Quit acting out because of your daddy’s mistakes and prove all of these shitheels wrong once and for all. 

Blend in. Stop causing trouble. Fall in line and study hard and cheer harder and get the hell out of dodge once you get your hands on that high school diploma. By whatever means necessary. Those means really did not include hanging out with Eddie Munson for even a second longer than you already had. 

–which is a nice thought and all, but Tina really shit all over that one with this shedding the dead weight move. 

The clouds above you carry the most pathetic of pathetic fallacies, gray and pregnant with rain that starts to hit you square on the crown of your head in fat, heavy drops. You’re still fifteen minutes from the trailer park, at least, and you don’t have a raincoat. You don’t have an umbrella. And you don’t fucking care.

You stomp up the dirt drive leading into Forest Hills, the pleats of your green skirt heavy with water, your cheerleader’s cardigan weighing down your shoulders. Your white knee-high socks are flecked with mud and getting dirtier with every sloppy step. And the rain, the relentless relentless rain, is streaming into your eyes, streaming mascara with it. 

You gasp against the cold of the downpour as you approach your trailer– and a glowing yellow light catches in your peripheral vision. His bedroom, the one you can see into from your bedroom. Though you try not to look. And sometimes you fail. 

You don’t see much, when you do look. It’s mostly his hunching figure, bent over his guitar or some binder or book or map or figurine. But he always seems calmer, the frenetic energy he wears around like chainmail finally falling to the floor. Watching him like that makes you want to breathe a sigh of relief right along with him, just to see if you’d feel similarly. Calmer. 

Calm is not how you feel right now, wiping the rain from your face as you dig in your bag for your keys. Once, twice, thrice they slip out of your hands, and on the fourth try, you finally get them in the door. And then– the key strains in the lock. Come on. This door has always been unnecessarily sticky, but this wasn’t really the time– you push and you push the silver key to the left with no give. 

Was your mom in there? Had she left her key in the door by accident before she went on another overnighter with Prince Valium? “Mom! Mom!” you yell, hammering on the door. No dice. You pull at the key again, and pull and pull and– 

Snap.

You shudder, a full body shake that’s only partially down to the rainwater that’s soaked you right to the bone marrow. The key has snapped off in the lock, leaving you standing there with a useless silver nub. 

“Fuck!” you holler, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck fuck! Fucking–shit!” 

Your fists go straight to the side of the trailer, banging one after the other against the metallic veneer. You don’t care that it hurts your knuckles, you want it to dent or crack or something, you want to not feel so impotent and fucking useless, but here you are! 

“Hey! Asshole!”

Your head whips around, heavy, sodden ponytail smacking you in the face. 

Eddie Munson is leaning out his bedroom window, barely visible through the downpour. 

“Keep it down! You’re in a residential goddamn area!” He’s not smiling that shiteating smile. He’s not even grinning. He’s just glowering at you, which is the look you’re most accustomed to seeing him wear. Even so, it feels– it feels– it makes you feel worse. 

“Fuck you!” you scream across to him, “Who died and made you the fucking neighborhood watch?!”

“Go inside, you lunatic!”

“My fucking– my key broke off, dickhead!” 

That makes his brow loosen a little bit. You just stand there, gasping in the rain. And then he disappears from the window–

–only to fling open the front door of his trailer. 

“Come on,” he grumbles, massaging the space between his eyebrows like he can’t believe what he’s fucking doing. 

“No.” 

“What? Cut the shit, Lacy, come inside.” 

“No! I don’t want to!” 

Munson’s face opens up in an expression of sheer incredulity– and you partially can’t believe yourself either. What is it about him that just makes you shove and shove and shove, unable to let him win– or in this case, unable to let him help? 

“Fine! Fucking drown out there for all I care!” The trailer door slams.

Your teeth have started to chatter, and your options from here on out are… walk or hitch your way back to town and drag your sodden ass somewhere there’s a phone where you then call your mom and pray she’ll pick up (she won’t) and tell her about the lock and try to tell her about the cheerleading squad and pray she’ll understand how upset you are (she won’t) and how much of an awful spiral this whole year has become and it’s not even Christmas yet and–

The trailer door swings back open. 

Eddie Munson comes stalking out into the rain, white Reeboks splattering mud everywhere. He’s wearing that shirt from his Dungeons and Dragons club, the one with the big fucking smug Satan splayed across it and you wonder, did he model that after himself? 

“What’s your fucking problem?” he asks, point blank. It feels like he’s aiming something at you. 

“I’m having a shitty fucking day!” you scream in response, making that dog belonging to that red headed kid sister of Billy Hargrove’s yap somewhere in the distance. “And I keep telling you, I don’t need your fucking–”

“Help? Right!” he scoffs, loud and indignant, crossing his arms across his chest. The fabric of the ringer tee is changing color before your eyes, clinging to him. “You don’t need my help yet you always take it, you don’t wanna be seen with me yet you end up at my lunch table, in my van, smoking my weed– you know, it may shock you but I’m not exactly thrilled to be seen with you either, Lacy! I mean, playing chauffeur to a grade A certified bitch that wouldn’t give me the time of day unless she was desperate? Who stood by and let her shitty friends, who aren’t even her friends anymore, make mine and my friends’ life a living hell for how many years? What kind of an asshole does that make me? How pathetic is that?” 

The way he spits the word bitch– it was different from the way he said it in the record store. There, it felt like a come-on. A compliment. Here, it feels like a curse. But oh, he doesn’t stop there! You are rooted to the spot, an unmoving target for his justified rage. 

“You can’t even play ignorant, y’know, because I’ve seen you. You’re smarter than them. You know how godawful those people are–Harrington, Carver, Carol, fucking Hagan worst of all–and you just let ‘em run. Because you needed that status, you needed to be the most evil fucking twat at the twat table, and for what? They left you, Lacy! They all left you!” 

You’re not sure at what point in his speech you started sobbing but at its crescendo, you yelp. It’s a high, pathetic sound you wish you could stuff back inside your throat and hopefully choke yourself with. See, you know all these things. You’ve told them to yourself in your most honest moments, of which there are not many, but having Eddie Munson lay them out for you in the pouring rain– it’s horrible. You’re horrible. 

Eddie’s arms move from where they were bound on his chest. Okay, that was an outburst, sure, but he didn’t mean to make you cry. And you’re like, really crying. He can’t stand it when girls cry, and you, in particular–you, having never displayed much emotion beyond bemusement and annoyance and mild disgust toward him–is especially frightening. 

And then you let out this scream. It comes right from the center of your chest, rumbling and primal and visceral and real. It’s a real noise, not one you put careful, curative thought into, tuning it just right before you let it out. Because in this instance, he’s right! You’ve worked so hard, and for what! For fucking nothing! For it to blow up in your face! So you let out another howl– and it feels so, so good. A feeling of satisfaction, more than a feeling of relief–

–so Eddie screams too. God, that feels fantastic.

His is heavier than yours, obviously, because he’s a guy and he probably screams as a hobby in whatever metal band he supposedly plays in. But you like that sound. You like the way it seems to ring off the exteriors of the trailer, ricocheting around like a pinball in its machine. 

A couple more painful sobs escape you, and Eddie’s taking tentative steps toward you, like you’re a snarling animal he’s trying to coax. 

In ways, you are, but that’s because you feel hunted. You have to blink, through tears and through rain, but you see that his shirt is so soaked that it’s see-through. You can see a vague suggestion of a tattoo on his chest. You see that he’s fighting a smile. 

This is so stupid. This is so ridiculous, that you could make a noise like that and completely short circuit the white hot anger he was spewing at you. 

“Come inside,” he breathes, a little less than a foot of space between you, “You lunatic.”

Your head, so heavy on your neck, so heavy from crying, so heavy from carrying your spiteful brain around, falls against his chest. 

“Uhh…” Eddie mumbles, hands hovering behind your back, not sure if he’s supposed to embrace you or if you’re about to rip his heart out of his chest. Either could be true. 

You know what you’d prefer. 

You’re positive he doesn’t here you exhale into his chest, into the mouth of the cartoon Satan, into the thrum of his jumping heartbeat. Sorry. I’m really… I’m so sorry.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “hey. Shit.” His hand finally rests in between your shoulder blades. You let him guide you inside, and he even picks up the book bag you had thrown in the mud. You reach, try to grab it from him, but he yanks it out of your grasp. Half teasing, half assuring you that it’s okay.

A squeaky, squelching silence settles between you two as you stand in his doorway. You’re creating a puddle near some old work boots. You wonder if they’re his– you’ve never seen him not wear those Reeboks. 

“So… welcome,” he cringes, emitting a pitchy, awkward laugh. You follow him through to the kitchenette, which is identical to your kitchenette, except every surface is not covered in legal correspondence or empty wine bottles or too-expensive tchotchkes. The light in here seems dimmer, warmer. There’s a distinct aroma of stale cigarette smoke and old coffee, which you breathe in deep. “Sorry for the mess–”

“It’s fine. It’s good mess,” you say, a little distant. You peer around the place like you’re in a gallery. 

“Good mess?” he queries, crossing to the kitchen sink where he attempts to wring his shirt out by hand– still wearing it. 

“Lived-in mess,” you say. What you mean is, it doesn’t look like a mausoleum of a life someone left behind. A storage locker. A haphazard sarcophagus. Before you moved to the trailer, your house was so clean– that was a whole other problem. The same tchotchkes that are scattered on your counter were kept behind glass, only touched when your mother polished them, the only housework she ever did. You stare at a collection of trucker hats nailed along the living room wall, the shelf of novelty mugs that accompanies them. 

“Living in mess? What is that, like living in filth? You better start showing this fine abode some respect before–”

“Lived. In. Munson, I said, lived in if you would just listen– it’s good, it’s fine. It’s n-nice.” 

It’s warm in the trailer, you can tell, but you’re shivering. You bear down in your body, jaw all set so your teeth don’t start chattering again, but he hears it in your voice. 

“Uh-oh,” he says, somehow not at all betraying any signs of being out in the freezing rain except for being entirely soaked. You bet his skin is still running hot, like you felt through his shirt, like you felt grabbing his wrist. “Star cheerleader’s coming down with a case of hypothermia. Right before the big game!” 

He slaps his hands to his cheeks in mock horror. 

“I’m–” you’re about to tell him a couple things; one, that you’re fine which would be stupid, because you are so clearly not fine; two, you’re not the star cheerleader anymore; and a third, forgotten thing. “--cold,” is what you settle on. It sounds small, vulnerable.

Eddie holds his breath for a second. You sound so delicate. Hard, terrible you.

“No, sure, of course you are,” he fumbles. The way his wet hair has flattened to his skull makes him look younger– exposing a nervous boy behind the metalhead posturing. “You can– take a shower. If you want. To warm up.” 

Take a shower. In Eddie Munson’s trailer. Your eyelids flutter closed, taking on their own vibrations from the wracking of your body. This is a hell of my own making. “Yes. Sure. Thank you.”

“I can also,” he starts, crossing the kitchen again and knocking something over on his way– it just clatters to the floor, whatever it was, and he lets it, like he’s used to leaving crashing sounds in his wake. “I can take your clothes if you want. Put ‘em in the washer.” 

You hesitate a beat, then follow him down a hallway. 

“I probably have something you can wear,” he says. There’s a note in his tone that’s high and nervous. “You’re for sure gonna hate it, but hey– beats freezing to death.” 

“Just barely,” you murmur. 

“Huh?”

“This, uh– this is dry-clean only,” you correct yourself, gesturing to the uniform. 

He rolls his eyes. “Of course. Only the best for the pom-pom shakers.” 

He ducks into a room that must be his bedroom, but you don’t follow him. Instead, you linger in the hallway, near the dingy bathroom, staring at the corn themed wall calendar. Going into his bedroom feels too personal– too intimate, as if preparing to take a shower in Eddie Munson’s trailer only to change into his clothes isn’t intimate. 

“I figured,” he says, emerging from the bedroom with clothes and a towel in hand, “since you like all that rinky-dinky-tinkly garbage, you wouldn’t hate wearing a Stooges shirt.” 

“I–” the shirt is soft under your wrinkled fingers, as are the boxers he passes off to you. Boxers. You hold them up between your forefinger and thumb, stepping into the bathroom. “These are clean, right?”

Eddie stares at you for a second– then leans his head into the bathroom and shakes his sopping locks at you, just like a dog. You let out a shriek that he thinks almost sounds like an involuntary giggle. I’ll take it.

“No comment!” And he slams the door on you. 

Then you’re standing. In Eddie Munson’s trailer. In Eddie Munson’s bathroom. Holding his old Stooges shirt and his boxers, with mascara running down your face. 

You pinch yourself, hard, just in case. 

The shower heats up quick–quicker than yours, you notice–and you rest your head against the tile as the steam swirls up around you. This is so weird. This is so fucking weird, and you can’t scrub away the weirdness fast enough. There’s not enough Irish Spring in the world. You reach into the shower caddy to replace the bottle and notice something familiar– wait, that’s–

Wait. 

Do you and Eddie Munson use the same brand of shampoo? 

You had to switch from your favorite to the best that the Big Buy had to offer, given the change in your personal means, and this was the top score in terms of quality. Eddie Munson apparently agrees– but better yet, you realize as a grin spreads across your face, Munson uses women’s shampoo. 

It’s nice to have a fresh piece of arsenal to aim at him once you get out of the shower. 

Toweling off and changing, you do give the boxers a wary sniff before you put them on– but luckily, they smell like generic detergent and aren’t stiff in any way. So you slide them on.

They fit snugly– naturally, given he’s all sinewy and you have hips. He is really sinewy, now that you think about it. 

His wrist wasn’t bony, but it was active. Tendons flexing under the thin, soaked layer of his shirt. You wonder, absently, was that a tattoo you saw. What is it. What does it look like. Is it shitty. It’s his, so it’s probably shitty, but I want to see it. Does he have any more. 

You shiver, slipping the Stooges t-shirt on, and blame your hardening nipples on the cold.

The cheer outfit is another problem. You emerge from the bathroom, clutching the still-sodden uniform with Eddie’s– Munson’s towel thrown over your shoulder. 

“Do you have, like, a garbage bag or something?” you ask, eyes rising to look at him where he stands in the doorframe of his room. He’s still in his soaked clothes. 

He takes a second to answer you, and when he does, his voice is all thick. Avoiding eye contact. 

“Suuure,” and he disappears and reappears with a plastic bag, quick as a blink. 

“Thanks.” You dump the uniform, sneakers and all, into the bag and make for the door. 

“Hey, it’s still raining–” his voice follows you, as if you hadn’t heard the raindrop gunshots hitting the trailer roof. 

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p’. You yank Munson’s door open and fling the garbage bag outside. It lands squarely between your trailer and his. 

Munson appears over your shoulder, looking out at the garbage bag. His face is twisted in confusion, concern, curiosity. 

“I got kicked off,” you explain, plain as biscuits. 

“Off the pom pom squad?” he whispers, eyes flaring in surprise that you think might actually be real. You’re looking at his lashes again, fanning around the almost-perfect circles of his eye sockets. 

“The very same.”

“Escándalo. What happened?”

“How about you go and shower first,” you suggest, poking a finger into his chest. He makes a little breathy noise, a little ‘unh’, that you don’t… hate. “Can’t have the star dork of the make believe board game club catch his death, can we?” 

“Anything happens to me and you’re the prime suspect, babe,” he grins and snaps the towel off your shoulder. 

“Hey!”

“This is the last clean one. What am I, a fuckin’ Rockefeller?”

-

Christ, he wants to jerk off into this towel but he knows that’s weird. That’s perverted. That’s fucked up. That’s everything everyone says about him and that’s everything you make him feel. 

So he strips, turns the hot water to scalding and furiously rubs one out down the drain. One, because he feels bizarre about leaving you alone among all of his things for too long and two, because hot water is in short supply. 

And three, because he’s achingly rock hard at the sight of you in his boxers, tossing your cheerleading outfit into the mud and the wet. 

The metaphors. The implications. The feeling of your forehead against his chest. The stab of your finger in his sternum. 

He cums jaggedly, almost silently, with his mouth rammed against his forearm. 

If you heard him– God, you’d be so nasty about it. God, he’d never live it down. God, he’d love to know what you’d say.

He makes damn quick work of sudsing up and rinsing down, wrapping a towel around his waist– only to run into you as he’s coming out of the bathroom. 

You stare. You stare at him, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry, and all the blood drains away from his brain. Again.

“Stare much?” he sneers, but only just about. Because his first instinct is to drop the towel and give you an eyeful. See what you’d do– hopefully something with your mouth. God, he hopes it’d be something with your mouth. 

“Where are your smokes?” you snap back. “I know you have some.”

“Kitchen. There’s probably–,” he needs you to stop looking at him like that; like you’re going to snap his neck, “--kitchen.”

Eddie slams his bedroom door and smacks his face with three quick strikes. “Come on, man! Get it together!” 

Because it’s go time. 

He has to formulate some kind of plan. 

He hadn’t exactly thought ahead when he invited you inside–or, demanded you come inside–and since you now had no place to go and Wayne had specifically told him not to go near you and your boobs were stretching out his dad’s old Stooges t-shirt…

Christ. 

He’s entirely, massively, completely at a loss. Eddie paces around the room like an animal in panic, grabbing a Scorpion shirt and some worn flannel pants as he goes. 

“Like, I’m supposed to go out there and do what? Ask her to hang out? Fucking paint her nails, read Cosmo? Study?! Jesus!” he angrily mumbles to his reflection, tearing the towel away and tugging his t-shirt over his sopping hair. “Hey, Lacy, you wanna beer? Who am I, Steve fucking Harrington? Jesus, Jesus, Jesus Christ, dude!”

“Munson. Are you talking to me in there?” He hears your voice from a minute distance away– see, that’s the thing about trailers. Small space, thin walls, and Eddie Munson’s voice travels at super speed. 

He stops, seizing, cringing, shoulders hitching up to his ears. 

That was not enough time to formulate a plan. 

Eddie, jankily tugging his pants on, sweeps out to the kitchenette area like something is chasing him and stops dead when he sees you. You haven’t trashed the place. You haven’t even tried to stick your head in the oven, two things he was kind of concerned about given the way you were wailing outside. 

You’re standing in the middle of the room with your hip cocked out, smoking a stolen cigarette and studying his uncle’s trucker hat collection. 

All the air in the room seems to orbit around you like a tornado in slow motion. 

How is it that you make an old shirt and boxers look like a skirt set? How is it that you can be sobbing your lungs out one minute, then the picture of poise and sophistication the next? 

All that air and none left for Eddie to take a breath.

“Hey, Lacy,” he strains, “you wanna beer?” 

“What,” you purr– like, he’s so sure that you actually purr, “You mean you’re all out of Sancerre?”

He does not know what the hell that is, but he can only assume it’s some rich people bullshit– and he’s relieved. You’re mocking him. At least that’s some tether to normalcy. She’s baa-aack. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, not entirely meaning it, but if he beams right at you he’s going to give the game away. 

“Think fast!” He tosses a can of the cheapest beer available at the Big Buy your way and you just about catch it, hands above your head and the cigarette dangling out of your mouth like Keith Richards. 

“God, Munson,” you mumble around the filter, “What kept you off the basketball team?” 

“Half a brain and a big dick,” he smirks, cracking the pull top and snatching the soft pack of cigarettes you’d left on the countertop. You cross from the living room, propping yourself up on the counter stool in a fluid movement that can only be described as feline. 

“Well, we sure can account for one of those things,” you say, ashing with your right hand and tapping at your temple with your left. 

“And the other?” Eddie asks, voice dropping a mocking octave. 

“I’d sooner drink arsenic than find out.”

He raises his beer can to you. “In that case, cheers!”

Your mouth twists around a smile and Eddie can see you’re fighting hard to keep it at bay. And that you’re losing. You tip your beer to your lips and he braces his elbows on the counter, looking around for a lighter. He spots a Bic, but the trigger won’t light it– just sparks, no flame. 

“That thing’s dead,” you say, “I lit this off the toaster.” 

“Oh! Right,” Eddie goes to turn, but something chilly snaps to his forearm. Your fingers. Damn. What is it with you? Circulation thing or what?

“Don’t do that,” you shake your head. “I don’t trust you not to burn the whole trailer down.”

“This is my trailer, y’know.”

“Yeah, and I’m in it. So burn it down on your own time.”

You motion for him to light his cigarette off the half-burned length of yours and Eddie tentatively places the filter between his lips. You prop yourself up on the stool, ass raised from the seat, leaning toward him. He leans in too and you cup that little hand with the perfectly painted fingers around the cigarettes. Like you’re whispering a secret. You look down, focusing on making fire, but Eddie’s eyes follow the tiny crease of your brow, the slope of your nose. The little wipe of mascara still underneath your eye. 

Tips touch and Eddie inhales just as you do. The cherried ends of the smokes glow orange and you pull back and Eddie just stays there a moment, frozen with the now-lit ember hanging out of his mouth. 

You pull back and inhale that smoke like one of those chicks from those black and white movies Wayne is always watching. You exhale all daintily, in one perfect clouding stream. You’re all– you’re so–... 

“Fucked,” you groan, shoving the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I am so fucked.” 

Eddie finally tugs the cigarette from his mouth, filter gone a little soft with the low-level salivating he’d been doing. “Oh. The cheerleader shit?”

“Yes, Munson. The cheerleader shit.” 

“What happened, anyway?” He resumes the position of being elbow-up on the countertop, which incidentally brings him a little bit closer to you. Incidentally. “You crack some skulls this time?”

“Huh,” you chuckle emptily, “Almost. Um, Tina more or less took me out at the knees. Which, I understand of course. If I were her, I would have obliterated me, but–” 

“You’re not her, and it doesn’t feel awesome to be on the other end of obliterated,” Eddie nods, giving you a squint-eyed pout of mock-sympathy. “Poor Lacy. Getting shitkicked by the consequences of her own actions.”

Thunk! You punch him in the shoulder, which hurts and he gasps, but it’s so funny and categorically unladylike coming from you. These little peals of violence that keep coming off you are a seemingly bottomless source of amusement for him. 

She’s so funny-looking when she’s mad. 

“Fuck off!” you bark, as if reading him like a goddamn horoscope, but there’s a glimmer to your narrowed stare. “I got replaced by a sophomore, as if I needed an insult topping on that injury shitshake.” 

“Oh, she Old Yeller’d your ass!” Eddie gasps again, chuckling heartily, “Took you out back and–” He mimes blowing your brains right out, nailing you right through the forehead. You stare at him square, unimpressed. “Who usurped ya?”

“Chrissy Cunningham.”

Oh. Well, isn’t that interesting. Eddie’s lips flatten into a straight line and he makes a little mmh sound. And you pick up on that immediately, being that you’re annoyingly perceptive. 

“Munson! Come on!” 

“What? Whaaat? I didn’t say anything!”

“That’s a child.”

“That is a sophomore and you said so yourself. Besides…” he trails off, pointedly crushing the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray until it’s oversquished. “...we have history.”

If his cigarette extinguishing was pointed, yours is needle sharp with the way you crush it into the ashtray right next to the remnants of his. 

“Go on,” you hum, just like you did in the van that last night. I really wanna know. It’s conspiratorial and intoxicating and makes it feel like you’re on his side, which you know he’s not but it’s so, so tasty to think that for a second you might be. 

Is this how you make everyone feel? Lull ‘em into a false sense of security? Hoard your ammo and go apeshit later? 

Eddie draws back, nearly congratulating himself for doing so. “That’s for me to know, and you to die ignorant.” 

The way your lips pop open is almost too good, your little doll face turning to a mask of betrayal too quick for you to hide it. Too quick for you to be all like fine! Keep it to yourself! You’re both totally irrelevant anyway! or whatever other bitchy retort you’re bound to come up with. 

“Wow. Well, if that holds any water, Carver’ll shit,” you start, sipping on your beer, “His little virgin Mary deflowered by the devil’s first alternate.” 

“Hey, I never said–!” Fuck. Fuck! How do you do that! Eddie pinches his lips together as you smirk over the rim of the beer can, all stuck under your gaze. Fly in the spider’s web. 

“A-ha,” you say, irritatingly smoothly. “So nothing happened. She’s just spank bank material.” 

“Didn’t– say that either,” Eddie mumbles, mind going annoyingly blank under your rapid fire tearing and the inebriating way you’re delivering it. He hates this and he has no intention of telling you to stop. The duality of man. 

“Didn’t not say that, though.” 

“You oughta be a lawyer,” he tells you, swigging deep, “the way you find a loophole in everything.”

“The way you want me to get you off, you mean.” 

You come out with that, something so incendiary, oh-so-casually and slip off your seat. She can’t just do that. You’re padding around the living room again, bare footed and small-looking, but Eddie’s staring at you like you’re a hand grenade with the pin missing that also has the secret to everlasting life inside. Terrified. Fascinated. 

A little stiff.

“What?” he breathes, but doesn’t really want you to answer the question. 

And you don’t, you just keep looking around the living room with your arms crossed over your chest. “You need money to be a lawyer, Munson. To go to law school. To go to any school. And I don’t have that. And I foolishly figured getting a cheerleading scholarship would be a cinch of a backup plan, and now I can’t do that either.”

“What are you looking for?” he asks, finally willing his dick down and his legs to work, rounding into the living room with you. 

“Your, like… stereo, or record player, or something,” you murmur, smoothing down his boxers over your hips. “It’s too quiet in here.”

Eddie blinks. What should really happen is he should say, no, stay out here in the silence, you insolent wench. Think on your crimes. Reflect. Repent. Stop being such a bossy little ballbreaker and give my balls a break.

“Room. Uh– it’s in my room,” is what he says instead. 

“‘kay,” is all you say with a little shrug of your shoulder, grabbing your can from the counter and padding down the hallway toward that same bedroom. His bedroom. Eddie Munson’s bedroom with his bed and his shit in it. “Let’s go.”

How irregular does your heartbeat have to get before you classify it as a cardiac event?

-

There’s only so many times you can flagellate yourself with the ol’ what the fuck are you doing thing before it becomes redundant.

Songs get overplayed, nail polish color gets overused, trends die. Things become redundant all the time, and you discard them. 

The notion of what the fuck are you doing in Eddie Munson’s trailer in Eddie Munson’s boxers walking towards Eddie Munson’s bedroom has become redundant because you simply are doing all those things. Not much point in questioning them. The chips have fallen. 

An eerie calm had come over you when he was in the shower and you were staring at all of these trucker hats on the wall– if the insanity is temporary, you might as well lean into it. You can’t go anywhere else. You’re trapped. Might as well get comfortable.

“God, this place is filthy, Munson.” You, with your arms still bound across your chest, toe a discarded t-shirt out of your path as you move into the bedroom with that same reserved interest of a gallery-goer. The place is cluttered, posters and flyers and doodles torn out of notebooks tacked up on the wall in total disarray. Every surface area is covered in what could be organized chaos, but knowing Munson the little that you do, you doubt it. 

To test the theory, you ask, “Where are your records? Tapes, anything?”

But he’s just lingering in the doorway, chewing on the end of a lock of hair. Watching you stand in the middle of the room with astronaut eyes, unblinking. It’s kind of– sweet, in a deeply unnerving way. He looks like a kid. 

Your brow furrows, grimace turning your lips into a point.

“Fine. Ogle me like a goddamn lobotomy patient, then.”

You resume your perusing of his things, when you spot the most precious piece of hardware hanging by the mirror. A marbled black and red body fashioned into nasty spikes. You reach out to give the strings an aimless thrum but your wrist is rapidly snatched away. 

“Nuh-uh. That’s where I draw the line,” Munson says, shuffling you away from the guitar like a security guard. A flash of something as your calves hit his mattress– him shepherding you toward your own bed, you drunk out of your gourd. “Siddown.”

And you sit, bouncing against the sinking mattress on impact. Rubbing at the spot on your wrist that his fingers had been squeezing. Staring up at him glowering down at you. “Ow.”

And Munson, it turns out, knows where everything is in his nuclear fallout of a room. He shoves a shoebox of tapes into your hands and nudges a bigger milk crate full of records nearer to you with his foot. 

“Knock yourself out,” he huffs, flinging himself face-down on the mattress next to you. You jerk; always the court jester, this guy. “Not that you’re gonna find anything you want to listen to.” 

A scoff flies out of your mouth before you’ve got a chance to suppress it– he’s gotta know, right? He’s gotta know he can’t just say shit like that to you without you fully activating that I can do anything you can do better–backwards–bleeding–in heels chip in your brain. You’ll show him. There’s nothing that matters to you more in the world right now than showing him. 

Though, rattling through his box of tapes, each one bearing a different variation of hot chick and the Devil artwork, you’ve got your work cut out for you. W.A.S.P. Mercyful Fate. Dirty Rotten Imbeciles. Witchfinder General. Some band that’s literally just called Loudness, for Chrissake. As you flick and flick, hope wavering, one catches your eye. There’s a jump in your throat. Scrawled letterhead against a draped satin background. A photo of something you always figured was a headless marble statue, though you could never be sure. 

“Why do you have this?”

No response from the corpse of Munson, presumably smothered by his own comforter.

“Hey!” you tap the back of his skull with the plastic casing. One eye appears, glaring up at you from the mattress. Rattle rattle goes the Cocteau Twins tape as you shake it in its case. “Thought this was haunted doll music.” 

“Ow.” Munson slowly raises himself onto his elbows, looking like he’s about to start kicking his legs in the air behind him. Twirling his hair around his finger. A grin is edging onto his lips, lips he’s pulling strands of hair away from. 

“Sometimes the five finger discount chooses you.” 

A feeling akin to heat spreads rights across your breastbone. You want to pry, secretly. You want an explanation. Why would you take that? Do you like me, or something? But asking speaks it into existence, and the insanity is temporary, and you’re so waiting for dawn to break on it so you can resume some hobbled together semblance of a normal existence. 

One that doesn’t include Eddie Munson stealing tapes that make you feel ticklish in order to, I don’t know, listen to them on his own so he can feel ticklish too. 

He hadn’t listened to it, for the record. Not all the way through, at least. 

He’d gotten as far as track two and had to switch it off, ejecting it out of the tape deck of his van with such speed that he was sure it’d shoot clean through the doors in the back. Too close, too real. That had veered a little out of the lane of objectifying you as someone whose crotch he maybe wanted to bury his face in and a little into the lane of you being like, a person. With feelings. 

The events of tonight aren’t helping that case. He hoped that lying face down for as long as he possibly could might let them just unfold around him, like he’d roll over and you’d just be gone, no evidence left behind except for your hair in the drain. 

But you demand attention. Eddie might be obvious, but you demand attention. His attention, at least. 

He grabs the tape from you. “We’re not listenin’ to that bullshit. Try again.”

“Fine!” you snap, but there’s this irritating bemusement dancing around your face. 

You lean forward from your spot on the mattress and tug the milk crate between your calves. Now, this is more your lane– in here, Munson’s got the classics. Or as close to the classics as he will deign to recognise. Zeppelin, Sabbath, Alice Cooper, Blue Öyster Cult– the combination of which you have something borderline mean to say about, but you’ll leave that ‘til later. You dig around, and then.

And then. Hello there, handsome.

In your hands are twelve inches of beauty, belonging to a grisly-voiced Tom Waits. Blue Valentine. Straight to the record player with this old bastard.

“People give this record too much shit,” you remark, and Eddie watches you as you tentatively lift a sock off the turntable. Yeah, he’ll cop to it, he doesn’t take such good care of some of his gear, but sometimes his brain behaves like a police scanner. Lotta channels operating at once. Anyway. Doesn’t matter. He’s watching you lift the needle onto the vinyl right now. “People say that this is a mediocre addition to the oeuvre, but what is mediocre about this–!”

Rousing strings seep from the stereo speakers– it’s Waits’ cover of Somewhere from West Side Story. Eddie knows it within the first half a second because, and now he’ll never admit it since he knows you like it so much, he has played this album to death. 

Somewhere around the halfway mark of Christmas Card For a Hooker in Minneapolis, the record will skip because it's scratched. Or well-loved, if you ask Eddie. 

“Fucking Robert Christgau thinks he’s being funny, doing this, y’know,” you sneer, examining the record sleeve as if you hadn’t seen it thirty thousand times before. Your copy had been lost in the move, among a number of your little sonic secrets. The records you’d keep to listen to by yourself, lying on your bedroom floor. “As if the whole core of Tom Waits’ whole thing isn’t heartache, the sentimentality of what-if. What if we could, what if life wasn’t garbage. That’s sentimentality, right there. It’s West Side Story, I mean, c'mon. Tom Waits is singing to us with his heart on his sleeve, but Christgau wants to suddenly be pedantic, turn around and be like, it’s a vaudeville act! because Waits sometimes also wears his dick on his sleeve.”

It’s a tirade you’ve often repeated to yourself, in your diary or alone in your room, pretending like you’re on a panel, pretending like you’re Susan Sontag and people actually give a shit what you actually have to say. You can’t exactly figure why you’ve said it again now. Maybe because you always found the strings on this song too much to bear without emoting, and you’re already vulnerable and tired. 

Munson, for his part, has flipped over onto his back on the mattress. “Who?” he drones.

“Robert Christgau,” you say, momentarily distracted by the way his shirt has rucked up around his belly. No six pack. Some meat there. Tendons, like you’d noticed before. “Just one of the most seminal rock writers of our time.”

You have a well-thumbed copy of his Record Guide: Rock Albums of the Seventies somewhere in a still-unpacked box.

Munson has a happy trail that curls like brushstrokes.

“You fucking trifler,” you grumble.

His face takes on that terrible look that he’d given you in the record store, all enraptured and cloudy at the corners of his eyes. Looking at you from where he leans on his elbows, one knee propped up, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. You want to shove it back down. 

And see what he’ll do about that. 

“How do you know all this shit?” he asks. Eddie can’t help this. He can’t help that he keeps changing his channel about you (again, police scanner) because one second you’ll be such a massive pain in the ass, then the next, you’ll say something so clever that it’ll make him want to vomit. 

“I like music,” you say, flatly. You give it to him straight, because you suddenly feel searched. You clutch Waitsy’s printed face to your chest in an effort of self-defense. “And I like… words. Kind of makes sense that I would enjoy music journalism, if you’re not totally stupid.” 

“I’m only a little stupid.” 

“Debatable.” 

“Wait, but I mean–” and he’s gearing up, because Eddie is about to ask you a real question. Something that’s been on his mind, the more ice shavings he can tear off of you. Considering you, all three dimensions of you– four, if you add in how much you like to punch him and stuff. “You’re like, incredibly smart, right.”

“Yes.”

“Like, perfect grades.”

“Almost. Save Kaminsky, because he can’t teach for shit and he can’t grade for piss.”

“And you’re a cheerleader… like, an important one?”

“Artist formerly known as, but yes.”

“And you’re on the newspaper.” 

“Very perceptive, aren't we.”

“You’re also popular– or, yeah, were. You party and stuff. You’re always hanging out with those assholes who don’t do half the shit that you do.”

 “Are you closing in on a point here, Munson?”

“How?” he nearly whispers, tone close to dreamy. “You’ve gotta have like, body doubles running around or something because no human person could possibly have that much time in the day. How the fuck did you do all that and also be running around ready to cite, like, an issue of the New Yorker from 1975, and not go completely insane?”

How do you know I’m not completely insane. Because, if he had ever witnessed how Jekyll and Hyde you could get, smacking the shit out of yourself with your hairbrush before you could turn on and be Lacy the cheerleader, Lacy the hot chick, Lacy the playground bitch, he would think you are totally insane. 

You answer him half-straight this time. 

“Diet pills.”

This makes him sit up, and makes you take a couple of steps back towards the bed. You flop down, tossing the Blue Valentine sleeve to the side. 

“Diet pills,” he repeats. 

“Oohhh, yes,” you nod, drawing the shape of the cylindrical pills on his comforter with your finger. You don’t really want to look up at him. “Rainbow diet pills. Soon as I hit my menses, I started lifting them from my mom.” 

“Isn’t that stuff illegal?” Eddie murmurs out of the corner of his mouth, mimicking your criss-cross applesauce seating position. “It’s basically speed, right?”

“Said the drug dealer,” a snort bursts from you. You’ve moved your fidgeting, starting to braid your half-damp hair. “And it is. It’s fully speed. I was doing baby Valley of the Dolls at age thirteen.”

“That is fucked up, Lacy.” 

“Yeah. Well. I'm a little fucked up, or haven't you heard?” 

“There’s been rumblings.” Eddie watches your fingers work, weaving locks of hair, one over the other. He’s never braided his hair. He wonders what it might look like. You come to the end and twist it around your finger, at a loss for a hair tie. He sticks a finger under his leather and silver bracelet, digging out an elastic he keeps handy, just in case. There are a lot of times that Eddie needs to yank his hair out of his face just to focus. “Here.” 

You mouth a silent thanks and wind the elastic around the tuft of hair. Tom Waits whines away about rain washing memories from the sidewalks and you feel weirdly… at ease. You’ve shared a couple of rainbow diet pills with Nicole and Carol (Tina doesn’t mess with amphetamines, a consummate athlete), but you’ve never had anyone ask you how you’ve managed to be the person you’re pretending to be. 

To put the clues together about your impossible do-it-all identity.

And not react in disgust when he finds out you’re fallible. 

“Hey,” Eddie says. Something about hearing you rattle off, not sniping for once, saying something real… it eased the heartburn. It has loosened his tension around you, a little. He figures it’s his turn to say something real. “I’m sorry I called you evil.” 

Most evil twat at the twat table, you nearly correct. “You had grounds.”

“No, no, I didn’t. You–” this is actually harder for him to get out than he thought, “You’re trying. You’re trying really hard to make the best of a messed up situation, and maybe I should’ve seen that– but I didn’t, because it’s high school, and it’s dumb, and I’m trying too, and we’re all trying, just to survive this messed up microcosm of the world– and– and–" He huffs. It's you gazing at him this time. Eyes sparkling in the half-light cast by his bedside lamp. You're... really pretty. "Jesus, can you just forgive me so I can stop talking?”

“That’s a first,” you say. “Microcosm is a five dollar vocab word, Eddie.”

The way you say his name. “I’m a changed man.”

“Can you use adulation in a sentence next?” Your big grin is devastating.

He leans right into you, dastardly looking suddenly. “Is this provocation getting you hot, you psycho?”

Fingertips braced over your knees, your torso keening just the right amount of degrees to favor him, your stare making an unsubtle job of darting from Eddie’s lashes to his lips to his lashes to his lips… 

“Maybe.” A beat. A heavy beat. “What are you gonna do about it?” 

In any other world, with any other person, the wanting would completely make sense. Wanting him to say nothing more and just do, to plant a big, ringed hand either side of your hips and pull you into his lap. To crush his lips against yours. To dig his hands into your thighs, to wind your fingers into his hair. To feel the chill of silver traveling up, under the back of your borrowed shirt, to press down onto him and–

Hey Charlie, I almost went crazy-ayzy-ayzy-ayzy-ay–

Eddie doesn’t mean to, he really doesn’t mean to, but his head snaps away from you just as the record starts to skip. 

Then the door slams.

Fuck.

“Ed?”

Wayne.

He totally forgot to formulate that plan.

author's notes: ZOOWEE MAMA HOW WE FEELING ARE YOU STILL WITH ME longest chapter in the fic so far. thanks for keepin up. i love you, let's not waste any time, i don't think i've got a lot of notes for you this go around but i love you - there is nothing more secretly pretentious teenage girl than loving joan didion and susan sontag (i know this because i was her, i am her to this day in fragments) but particularly joan didion on keeping a notebook really sticks to one's ribs. this is not the last joan didion ref in this fic, sorry for being unbearable - stella adler, the mother of method acting - steve harrington being the originator of the nickname lacy is a tribute to him showing signs of being a goofy motherfucker from day dot. please see this post. it was always there, we just couldn't see it in freshman year because of all the hairspray - what's going on with tommy hagan? does anyone really care but me, probably not. but for those that are keeping tick on the timeline (don't)- he got held back senior year, hence why he did not graduate with steve and is in the same grade as eddie, lacy, carol, et al. - WICKED LITTLE TOWN!!!! - the stooges t-shirt is yet another flight of icarus pick; al wears a stooges shirt and i creamed because i love the stooges. let's listen to one of my favorites - loudness are a metal band from osaka, japan! they got signed to an american label in 1985, but how did eddie munson get that tape in hawkins, indiana in 1984? well, my theory is that eddie loves music and jerry from main street vinyl loves benzos. a trade's a trade's a trade. - reader, you are an 18y/o girl who thinks you're better than everyone. of course you're stealing lester bangs' opinions on blue oyster cult and making them your own - and shitting on robert christgau bc you've got a wetty for tom waits - also, here is tom waits' cover of somewhere! my theory on eddie being a tom waits fan-- of course he is, that man looks and sounds like billy goat gruff and is a storytella just like eddie is. he would especially be into his later stuff, like the megalithic orphans album. y'all remember this song from shrek 2 - rainbow diet pills were a real insane thing! this seems more accessible than adderall for the time period, which modern!lacy would certainly have been abusing - for the time that's in it, let me present tom waits' anti-christmas song, christmas card from a hooker in minneapolis my loves, if you've still stuck with me this far, i thank you greatly. i know i'm nutso but i'm having fun writing this fic. i would've been writing it if nobody was reading, but it's a billion times better now that you are. reblogs are always appreciated, and the inbox is always open to chat shit ♡

#published by powder #in progress #hellfire & ice #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #e. munson by powder

[sailoryooons]

okay, Yoongi rec time. I am prepared for you to ruin my life, lessgo~~~

Gimme feelings and vibes, babe!!!! These two understand each other, they are the safe space for one another, their quiet compatibility is god tier.

Premise: Yoongi is 'the one that got away' to you. When you're unexpectedly thrown into each other's worlds again, every old feeling you had takes over like he never left - and it's clear that it's mutual. Problem... Yoongi has a girlfriend.

(Prefer no infidelity, just Yoongi having to make a hard choice, realizing the depth of what he had/and could have again now with reader is more substantial. And reader not being completely sure (maybe from miscommunication or lack of it) what his choice will be.)

honestly idc how smutty you make it, if you want to throw me a bone (huhuhu) and have some spice you know i'm not complaining :)

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: Unresolved feelings lead to nothing but heartache when you run into Yoongi at a wedding five years after breaking up. Especially when you realize that despite Yoongi have feelings for you, there is still another woman on his arm. 

❀ Word Count: 3,641

❀ Genre: Angst, exes to lovers, smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: STUPID PINNING!!!! LIKE JUST TWO IDIOTS WHO NEED TO GET OVER THEIR PRIDE AND GET BACK TOGETHER!!!!!! Angst, a lot of internal pondering on relationships and life, Yoongi is honestly a terrible boyfriend to his current girlfriend (he is in love with reader and it’s very obvious) bickering about relationships, Hyori seems like a bitch but tbh she is in the worst situation lmao, depiction of a breakup, a lot of aching and being wistfully sad, explicit language, sexua content including vaginal fingering, light nipple play, unprotected vaginal sex, some cum and fluids idk they’re sweaty, this is more of an emotional/prosey smut scene than filth, FeElInGs

❀ Published: August 1, 2023

❀ A/N: JO IT TOOK ME A YEAR TO FILL THIS REQUEST FOR YOU BUT GOD DAMMIT I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE THIS REQUEST. I HOPE THAT THIS FITS THE VIBE OF WHAT YOU WERE THINKING AFTER WAITING FOR ME TO FUCKING WRITE IT FOR LITERALLY 365 DAYS. I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH AND THIS IS UNEDITED OKAY. HERE'S TO HALI'S HAPPY AGUST'S FIRST REQUEST DROP!

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Song Inspiration | Hali's Happy Agust

“Is that her?” Yoongi doesn’t have to turn to look at who Hyori is talking about. Her tone, tightening grip on his arm, and the way she stiffens says all that he needs to know. “Well? Is it?”

Yoongi doesn’t want to turn around and look. His back and shoulders hurt from sleeping on the hotel couch, his eyes burn from being unable to sleep after staying up most of the night fighting with Hyori, and he knows that Hyori knows what you look like. As if she has not spent hours scrutinizing every part of your life on social media. 

Perhaps it’s Yoongi’s fault. He thinks of all the things he’s done for the last two years. Or better - he thinks of all the things that he hasn’t done that have landed him here at this wedding with Hyori seething at your very presence in the same room. 

It’s only partially Hyori’s fault. Yoongi could have done better to make her feel secure, to ensure that she felt like he was in this relationship without thoughts of you, to make her feel like he would always be about her and not you. 

Yoongi loves quietly, though. Too quietly for a bright, burning star like Hyori, who has turned into a flaring nova over the last year, burning Yoongi when he dares to get too close but freezing him out when he gets too far. 

He doesn’t know what to do, so Yoongi does what Hyori wants him to do. He turns and looks over his shoulder, eyes scanning the entrance to the garden that Seokjin and his fiance have selected for their reception. 

When he sees you, Yoongi swears he could die. His heart squeezes, his stomach flips. He keeps his features schooled as much as he can, knowing that his girlfriend is watching his every movement, waiting for another reason to dig her nails in deeper, waiting to say I told you so. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles and turns back around without looking back again. “That’s her.” 

Hyori hums, seemingly satisfied with Yoongi’s lack of interest in you. Her grip softens and she melts into him a little. He fights the urge to lean away, the sudden sight of you making him want to put distance between himself and Hyori.

She did tell me so, he thinks when he realizes that his first instinct of being in the same room with you again is to be away from anyone else. Fuck. 

“I don’t like her dress.”

Yoongi hums in agreement, but he couldn’t disagree more. He thinks you look stunning in your silk, sky blue gown. It glows against your skin and Yoongi already knows you’ll smell like vanilla with a hint of cherries, a scent that used to drive him wild. He knows you taste as sweet as you smell, skin warm and soft and-

“Are you listening?” Hyori asks, voice ringing with annoyance. 

He wasn’t. “Sorry, I was wondering how many people they invited.”

“Looks like a hundred or so. Did you see who Taehyung brought?”

Hyori launches into assessing the dates brought to the wedding as people are seated for the ceremony. Yoongi hums and nods when appropriate, but his thoughts are miles away from petty conversations with his girlfriend.

Instead, he’s focused on you. Three rows up and on the other side of the aisle, sitting next to Hoseok. You laugh and Yoongi begins to bleed at the seams, all of his wounds that he’s spent the last five years trying to heal opening up for him to drip with pain. 

It’s stupid, this endless longing for you. You’d broke it off with him because it was getting too complicated and because Yoongi had missed every opportunity to give you reasons to stay. He knows that you’re happy and he loves seeing you happy, knows that you have no ill will toward him. You wish each other happy birthday, and he texted you when a mutual friend passed away. 

So why is it so painful? Yoongi was happy with Hyori at first. She is everything he is not: bright, outspoken, full of energy, adventurous and social. He liked the way that she compliments him, where she makes up for where he lacks. But now, all of those differences have become obstacles, and what they had once admired one another for has become irritations. 

When the ceremony starts, Yoongi knows he’s supposed to look back at the bride and watch her enter. Knows that she will be beautiful and it is her day and she is owed all of the attention in the world. But it’s you he watches, waiting with his breath held as you turn, eyes sweeping to watch the bride enter.

And then you’re looking at him and Yoongi breaks. A single look in five years and he knows with sudden, lightning-strike clarity that he cannot do this anymore. The stab of longing is far greater than looking at you from a distance, the weight of your gaze crushing.

Yoongi realizes that there is nothing worse than watching two people proclaim their love in front of their family and friends while the love of his life is sitting three rows, and an aisle away. 

-

Letting out a shaky breath, you bring the flute of champagne to your lips, knocking back the entire thing. It burns on the way down and the carbonation fluxes, making you cough as a sudden burning sensation singes your nose, making you choke.

You set the glass down quickly, coughing your way through swallowing the alcohol the wrong way. Hoseok appears, patting your back and asking, “Shit, you okay?”

“Wrong pipe.”

“Maybe don’t chug your champagne like you’re using a beer bong in college.”

“Well maybe I need stronger champagne,” you shoot back. You immediately wince at your tone, Hoseok raising his brows. “Sorry. Very on edge. I knew seeing him would suck but I didn’t expect to feel like my rib cage would crack open.”

“By the looks of it, you’re not the only one.” 

Gritting your teeth, you follow Hoseok’s gaze, glancing over your shoulder toward the far end of the reception room. Yoongi is leaning back in his seat, slouched slightly in his chair and staring off into the distance unseeing. Next to him, his girlfriend Hyori giggles with the woman next to her at their table, either unaware of her boyfriend disassociating or over it. 

The worst part about Hoseok’s comment is that it’s true. Seeing Yoongi’s face during the ceremony was all you needed to see to know that it isn’t just you being burned by the fire. You aren’t alone in your pain, but you're not the one in a committed relationship. You’re not the one who has sat passively and let the world and love pass you by. 

It’s knowing that hurts so much, you think. Knowing that you love Yoongi more than anyone else in the room. Knowing that maybe walking away because you were too young to understand his love language or how he could do better for you was a mistake. 

Five years has given you a lot to think about. You don’t move through the world the same way, and you have a better understanding of the way that people pour love into relationships. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like now that distance has made you understand Yoongi more. You cannot help but ache over imagining that he has fixed all the things about himself you struggled with for another. 

“He loves her,” Hoseok murmurs, speaking your thoughts. “But not… like he loves you.”

“Well, that’s his problem.” You pick at a stray hair on your dress. “I admit I was immature and impatient and didn’t give him the chances to be what I needed, but… if he wants me and won’t take me, isn’t that why I left in the first place?”

Hoseok hums his agreement with an undercurrent of sadness. “Come on, let’s dance. Weddings are for celebrating love, not watching it die.” 

Hand in Hoseok’s, you let him lead you out onto the floor, spinning you wildly until you’re crashing into Jungkook and Taehyung’s arms, laughing and letting the music sweep you up and away from the hurt. The pain of knowing Yoongi is right there dulls a little. 

Being with your friends helps. It takes your thoughts away from thinking of all the things that you did wrong, like ignoring the ways Yoongi was silently telling you that he loved you, like getting mad for not seeing what he was saying in his own, quiet way. 

Yoongi isn’t faultless but neither are you blameless, which is perhaps why it hurts so much when you catch glances of him on the other side of the room. His hair is longer than it’s ever been and you wonder if it’s just as soft as it used to be. His face is just as round and soft, and yet he looks older somehow, more mature. 

It’s hard not to wonder what it would be like if you’d just given him the chance to be better for you. What it would be like if you had been more patient and understanding of him.

Yoongi does not love loud. He does not exist brightly splashed across paper the way that you do. He loves gently, with your cup of coffee waiting and ready for you every morning, and the oil in your car changed, and the broken shelf in your library mended. He is a soft shadow, the gentle hand on your back at an art gallery you wanted to visit and a held hand at a show he didn’t like but you did. 

Sweat lines your forehead and sticks to your arms from dancing. You excuse yourself to take a break and freshen up in the bathroom, the cool air of the venu making you shiver as you wend through candle-lit tables filled with sleeping elders and children stealing wedding cake. 

In the hall, you teeter toward the bathroom. After being plied with champagne and some tequila from Taehyung to loosen you up, you feel a little too loose, like you might melt on the floor if you don’t get some water and a seat somewhere underneath an air vent. 

“Fuck you,” someone hisses, their voice loud enough to stop you from turning the corner of where the bathrooms are. This section of the hotel is empty, reserved only for events and Seokjin’s wedding is the only event for the evening. “Why did you fucking bring me, then? I told you it would be just like this.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You will be. I have tried, Yoongi. I have tried for a year now, and nothing I do matters. No matter how hard I love you, you still love her. It isn’t fair and it’s cruel.”

Your heart speeds up when you realize it’s Hyori’s hissing voice you hear and Yoongi’s soft baritone. You chew your bottom lip, turning to look at the empty hall behind you. There’s no one around, the wedding working into the late hours of the evening. There doesn’t seem to be another set of bathrooms, and you can’t imagine trying to walk past Hyori and Yoongi in the middle of this. 

“You’re right,” Yoongi sighs. You know that sound. Defeated. Sad. 

“That’s all you have to say? That I’m right?” 

“I don’t know what else to say. You are right. You don’t deserve the effort that I’ve given you, I have been incredibly unfair, and though I love you, it doesn’t erase what I feel for her. It is the worst kind of cruelty I can think of, and I thought I’d get over it. I didn’t.” 

“You are the worst kind of person.”

Before you can get yourself together at the sound of Hyori’s clicking heels, she’s turning the corner and nearly slamming into you. She takes a few steps back, eyes wide and blinking in surprise. When she realizes it's you, her face twists into something cruel and venomous. 

Instead of saying anything, Hyori rushes by you, shoulder smacking yours. You teeter but don’t stumble, staring at the empty space where she was moments ago. You’re not sure you deserve her wrath, but you understand it. You don’t blame her for it. There is no happiness at her pain, no twist of pride at winning. Knowing that her pain is because it’s still about you. Always has been. 

Licking your lips, you take a shaky breath and peek around the corner. Yoongi is standing in the empty hall with his head tilted back toward the ceiling, eyes closed. His long hair falls to his shoulders around him. He looks so beautiful in a suit and bowtie, a picture perfect groom if you thought about it long enough.

Tears sparkle in the corner of his eyes before tracking down his face. His pain is tangible, and before you know what it is you’re doing, you’re walking toward him. He either doesn’t hear you coming or doesn’t care that there is someone to see him cry, because he doesn’t look down at you until your hand is in his and you’re squeezing. 

Warmth blooms between your palms. His are rough and calloused like you remember, all from playing guitar and taking the woodshop classes he loves so much. He still smells like cedar and sage, hypnotizing and dark in a way that makes you want to fall into him each time you inhale. 

Yoongi’s eyes open, lined in silver-tears. He looks so in pain and so beautiful, this soft boy who is now a man. Different but familiar. A burn and a balm. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, quick to speak first. Your hand squeezes his more as Yoongi opens up in front of you on command. As if he only has a moment to correct all of his mistakes in a single breath. “I get it now,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I do, and I’m sorry. And you look beautiful, and happy and I am so happy for you.” 

“I know.” You feel a burn in your eyes and realize there are tears threatening to break free. “I- me too. Can we just?” 

You don’t have to say what you mean. Yoongi gets it - has always gotten it. From the beginning, to the end. Even when he’s confused, he figures it out. Knows how to put the pieces of your puzzle together for the full image. 

Just a tiny exchange leads you to a twist of muttered words, spilled tears and Yoongi’s mouth on yours. You don’t know when he kisses you first or if it was you, but you know that his mouth is on yours and he is warm warm warm and his mouth tastes like whiskey. You breathe him in, fingers pulling at the lapels of his jacket. You want more more more - you always do with him.

Yoongi is a giver. He never takes. He lets you take from him. He crushes you with the weight of his love on the bed, hands feverish and hungry as he pulls your legs up to wrap around his waist. You moan as his rough palms skate up your exposed thigh, lighting a fight as he strokes your skin. 

It feels like you might suffocate. The air between you is static as Yoongi sucks your tongue into his mouth, making you shiver. Kissing him has always been your greatest weakness and you forget the way he breaks you apart with gentle swipes of his tongue, the soft nibbling of your bottom lip between his teeth. 

You feel like an exposed wire, sparking under Yoongi’s touch. He pulls the dress from your overwhelmed skin, your nipples pebbling in the cold air as his mouth moves from your tips, to your jaw, to your throat. Your pulse beats wildly under the careful touch of his teeth against your skin, the sting of his bites soothed by a swipe of his tongue.

Trembling and panting, you pull at his pants. Yoongi’s skin is hot to the touch, firm in places you don’t remember and soft in places that you do. Your fingers trace his lines and curves, remembering, discovering. You want to learn all of the new things about him and recall the things you already knew. 

“Fuck,” you gasp as Yoongi’s wet mouth wraps around a pert nipple. He hums and gives a vicious suck, making your back arch off of the bed. His tongue flicks across your hardened bud a few times, making you twitch under him. “Yoongi.”

He lets go with a pop, a string of spit connecting his mouth and your skin. “Say it again,” he whispers, voice ragged. “Missed hearing you say it.”

“Yoongi,” you say again.

You don’t stop saying his name - can’t stop saying his name. Not when he slides his hands between your legs, fingers trailing through your soaking cunt. Not when he circles those nimble fingers around your clit, sparking pleasure deep inside of you.

It feels like you’re on the edge of madness. Years of want and hurt and desire come bursting to the surface all at once. Your hands slide through Yoongi’s hair, just as soft as you remember it being. You tug hard on the locks, making him moan deeply into your shoulder. His breath is hot against your skin as he teases you, fingers tracing your entrance but doing nothing.

“Please,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Just wanted to see if you still get all worked up.” His laugh turns into a groan when you pull his hair harder. You feel his cock straining against your thigh, sticky tip tacky against your skin. “You still do.”

“You have some nerve saying that like your cocks not drooling on my thigh, Yoongi.”

“Fuck, I know.” He slowly slides a finger into your dripping heat. You curse, arching up into him. It isn’t enough. “Could bust just fingering this tight fucking pussy.”

“More.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi inserts another finger and you feel fuller, better. You nod, eyes fluttering shut as he sets a gentle pace, fucking his fingers into you at an angle to press up against that soft spot inside of you that makes you whine. “I still got it.” 

“Shut up.”

Yoongi has a right to be smug. It feels like you’re going to shatter, your hips coming off the bed to meet his thrusting hand. Your mouths smash together, teeth and tongues colliding. It’s messy and wet but Yoongi is yours again - maybe not forever, but he is in this moment and it's all you want. All that matters. 

Dizzy and drunk on him, you let him work you toward your high, the wet-smack of his fingers between your thighs bracketing the high-pitched sounds escaping you. He attaches his mouth to the sensitive spot beneath your ear, licking and sucking until you’re trembling under him, hands shooting to his arms and legs squeezing his hips as you come apart around his fingers, walls squeezing him tight.

Curses drip from his mouth as he shifts forward, pressing you further into the mattress, thrusting his fingers harder. Your orgasm reaches a peak and your mind is near breaking, ears ringing as he drags it out. You try to move away from him but pull him with you, reaching over stimulation but wanting more. 

Yoongi drives you mad. Has always driven you mad. You crave him even more as he pulls his fingers from your fluttering cunt, smearing your slick down your thigh as he gets up on his knees. Your legs fall open for him, butterflied as he strokes his heavy cock in his hand, watching you catch your breath.

Sweat sticks to your skin, the sheets clinging to you. Your thighs protest as Yoongi presses you open and slides his cock along your sticky folds. You twitch when his tip catches your clit, little shockwaves pulsing through you from the stimulation. 

Biting his bottom lip, Yoongi angles his hips to push in on his next teasing upstroke and you gasp. The stretch is painful and good, the pressure mounting as he pries you open. You feel yourself drift a little, lost in the feeling as he presses into the hilt, stopping to let your walls flutter around him. 

“So fucking tight,” he mutters, falling forward to cage you in with his arms. “Fuck.”

“So fucking big,” you shoot back. “Not my fucking fauuult.”

Your words turn into a mewl as he pulls out and slams back in, hips smacking with bruising force against yours. Yoongi’s laughter is dark against your mouth as he presses his lips to yours. You breathe hard against one another, sharing breath as he fucks you hard and deep.

Sliding your hands along his back, you grab him and pull him closer. Press your fingers into his shoulder blades, grip sliding with the sweat on his back. He works you so easily that within a few moments you’re delirious, babbling under him and near tears that finally - finally - you have him again. Something you’d never thought you’d get. 

Apologies spill from his mouth. Yoongi tells you everything he always meant to say. Everything you always wanted from him. You mutter it back, pull sweet words from his tongue, claw him open and make him shudder at your touch. 

Forehead pressed to yours, dark eyes burning, Yoongi brings you back to the precipice again. This time when you come, it’s together, your body squeezing tight, muscles spasming. Yoongi kisses you then, shaking above you as you ride it out together, unable to think of anything else but Yoongi. 

Later, when he’s asleep next to you and you’re wreathed in the warm cage of his arms, you think never again. Never again will you risk this heartache and let him go. 

#yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts suga #bts fanfic #minors do not interact #minors dni #bts suga smut #yoongi angst #halis happy agust

[thatdeadaquarius]

OKAY BUT I HAVE MORE IDEA FOR BLUNT READER CUZ I LOVE THAT AU SO MUCHANDMDJFKSLDKF

So you know how french people's insult are always outta pocket (from a person who's first language is french I can tell you that no other language compares in insult -apart for African languages)

Like,, some "bad" insult here would be : bitch, fuck off, whore,..

Which we can all agree is boring...

BUT THEN IN FRENCH!!!

We be getting creative with it

Eg.

"mange tes mort" wich translates to "eat your dead (relatives)"

"vas te fair enculer" means "go get yourself pegged in the ass"

(yes, we have a specific word for being fucked in the ass 💀)

AND THOSE WOULD BE THE COMMON ONES AS WELL

English could never compare ✨

BUT ANYWAYS

how would the characters react if reader was from france/ belgium/ canada(or any other french speaking country) and started cursing people out like they eould do in their home countrie !?!?

The eay their face would drop

We would make a couple of people cry

AND GOD(us haha) FORBID A KID OVER-HEAR US AND STARTS REPEATING US

Trying to un-teach them would be hell *cries*

Your thoughts?

Love yaaaa~

ABSOLUTE TOP TIER ORAH MY BELOVED!!

Nobody has any idea how much I HATE ENGLISH both for its rules/pronounciation BS/etc. But also, most importantly, THERES LIKE NO GOOD CUSS WORDS- OR LIKE CUSS PHRASES??

I HAD TO PUT THIS GIF BC THAT WAS LITERALLY ME WHEN I HAD THE REALIZATION TO LOOK UP OTHER LANGUAGE CUSS WORDS AND I WAS JUST BLOWN AWAY BY HOW GOOD THEY WERE- HOW CREATIVE- 😫😭🥲 ENGLISH WHY R U SO SHITY IN EVERY POSSIBLE LANGUAGE SITUATION-

like idk we got "eat shit and die / fuck off / go fuck yourself" ???? Like- thats pathetic 😟.

I love hearing someone just cuss smbody out their native language/non-english, it’s so badass and cool to see

Anyway u already know i love non-native english speakers from the bottom of my heart✨️

GOD I FUCKING LOVE BLUNT LANGUAGE AU ITS LIKE ONE OF TOP FAV AS U CAN PROBABLY GUESS I COULD WRITE A LITERAL FANFIC ENTIRELY OFF THIS SIMPLE PREMISE 💖💓💗💞❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

omg so i HAVE SPECIFICALLY HEARD ABT FRENCH BEING RLLY CREATIVEEE

and i researched french cusswords/phrases,,,

😭 BRO IM CRYING

“bête comme ses pieds!” IM ROLLING ON THE FLOOR-

(trans: you’re as stupid AS YOUR FEEEEEETT)

idk what’s funnier, you translating urself in real time and saying all these phrases to ppl,

OR just scaring the ever-loving shit out of every teyvat citizen within a mile radius bc oh wow- you look pissed, so yeah somebody’s about to lose all their self-esteem for the rest of their life bc ur insults are known to be extra cutting bc ur so blunt-

OH CREATOR ABOVE (…oh creator, present??)- you changed to your holy language FOR THIS???

everybody just giving the npc the most bombastic side-eye for pushing you to do this,

or even just you stubbing ur toe/ate food when it was too hot

or my favorite, getting onto ppl like Wanderer when they do smth silly lmao

STOP I HAD A FOUL THOUGHT OF GETTING ONTO Ei AND WANDERER (like ei for not keeping him/at least giving him to someone else to raise, then all the shit he did as Scaramouche lol)

AND THIS CUSSWORD COMES OUT UNDER UR BREATH OR SMTH- DOES THIS FIT BC THIS KILLS ME:

“Putain de salope…” (whore of whore, I LIED IT MEANS FUCKING BITCH LMAO😭)

JUST GETTING THE MOM AND THE SON IN ONE FULL BREATH CRYINGGGG

STOPPP wanderer using it against other ppl ever since u used it lol

oh no stop dont bring the kids into thisss 😭😭

Klee would deffo be the first one to pick up ur words and use them, omg she just uses them as catchphrases like when throwing her bombs 💀

“Mange tes mort!” JUST WITH A SMILE ON HER FACE AS SHE THROWS HER HUGE SKILL BOMB INTO A FISH POND

Venti would definitely make sure the winds “pass along phrases of the sacred All-God language!”

which just means anyone who UNDERSTANDS YOU JUST GETS GENTLY CREATIVELY CUSSED OUT BY THE WIND IM SOBBINGGG

☆

i hope u guys are having a great summer! its basically too hot to go outside where I am, not unless ur going straight into the water or smth

which hey, ill be doing that this weekend, floating down the river about an hour away from my house with friends! :]

which,,, if anyone sees this, U GOTTA HELP ME THINK OF A 1000 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE THING TO DO IDK WHAT TO DO BUT I WANNA CELEBRATE IT BC I NEVER THOUGHT THATD HAPPEN!! lmk what u think in the comments if u read this!

☆

Safe Travels 0rah,

💀♒

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi

#srry i take so long to answer smth so simple #i actually have a surprising amount of asks! #i was thinkin abt it the other day like #damn should i reopen mail box #then i was like #not really bc i still got a lot of stuff to answer! #so now ITS CRAZZYYY to see my first posts/asks and see me trying to get ppl to send asks! #anyway i gotta make a 1000 followers thing bc i love u guys #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #genshin imagines #genshin isekai #gender neutral reader #self aware genshin #genshin impact au #genshin x reader

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#368

“Where are you off to?...  The mall?  Well, your friends will need to wait.  We have something to talk about. 

“I have looked after your step-dad, my brother, for his entire life, and I have gotten to know your ma just these past few years.  I trust Doyle with my life.  So when he and your ma ask a favor to have you live with me while they work out their problems, I can’t say no.  I told them that I don’t expect any problems from you.  And they assured me that you are a good boy and that you would follow my rules.  Well, after a long twelve-hour day at the job site, I want to relax with a Scotch Whisky and a nice Macanudo cigar.  Well, imagine my surprise that the bottle of Johnnie Walker, that I opened earlier this week, is well over half gone.  I know how much I drink; that bottle would last me a month and a half at least.  Care to explain?... 

“Well Vinny, don’t ever insult my intelligence again.  That is a battle you will never win.  You drank my Scotch.  Now you have to deal with the consequences. 

“C’mere!...  I said ‘Come here!’  Lay your sorry ass across my lap; you’re getting a good old fashioned ass whooping. 

“…I don’t give a shit that you turned 18 only a few months ago.  You ain’t too old to be put in your place….  Don’t you dare head to the door….

“…I told you not to underestimate me.  Hold still.  I was a state champion wrestler in High School.  I was also a cop before my heart problems.  I know how to take down a bitch like you.  Quit squirming.  Let’s get these sweatpants off you….  Going commando, hunh? 

“…What?  Don’t have something stupid to say?  It’s time for you to pay for your fuck up.  This is a nice ass.  So smooth and pale pink.  Too bad I have to welt it up.

“That’s one.  One of twenty… on each cheek.  Two…  Three…  Now this cheek.  Fuck yeah.  My hand is going to be sore for a while, but I don’t care.  Six.  Seven.  You are starting to go red here.  Boy you got a hot ass!  Ha! Literally it’s very warm. 

“Your crack needs some color….  What the fuck?  You are wet in your crack.  It doesn't stink.  Fuck!  This is lube!  What the fuck?...

“Ha! You were going commando to the mall in sweatpants and your ass is lubed up?  No, you have something lined up to get fucked.  Ha! Ha!

“And I bet…  Don’t try to fight me on this, you have enough lube here for me to easily glide in my finger… like this.  Oooh, there’s your prostate.... I can tell you are cleaned out.

“So, let’s start this conversation over.  Stand up….  I thought that’s what I felt.  Your pecker is hard from you being spanked.  Ha!  I love it.  Look I am totally fine with you being a sperm burper.  Fuck, get laid whenever you want.  So want to tell me where you were really going?

“Have a hook up?  That’s nice.  Is it from one of those apps?...  Let me see his profile….  Give me your phone….  Which app was it?...  Let me see.  This him?...  So you like 43-year-olds?  That’s cool.  I’m a little bit older than that.

“Oh, your chat with him is interesting.  Very interesting….  So you like sucking on ‘Daddy’s toes?’  This is fucking great…. Quit protesting.  I do love it… all of it.  I love that you are rock hard. 

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.  I am rock hard too.  Yeah, I’ve played with boys before. 

“Here let me take it out for you.  Boy you got me leaking.  Grab a hold of it.  It’s a sizeable piece hunh?...  I see you licking your lips.

“Shut up….  One moment….  There!  I just sent him a message saying that you are going to be twenty to thirty minutes late because your uncle needs some help unloading some things.

“On the bed….  I don’t give a shit.  You got me hard; you are going to take care of it.  I want that red ass of yours.  Atta boy.

“Spread your legs as far as you can.  Just lay there.  I prefer when my holes don’t move around.  And if you can, don’t moan.  Just be the hole you are destined to be.

“Fuck!  It is like silk in here.  I am going to enjoy using this hole daily….  I said don’t say anything.  You live in my house with a hole I can fuck, you better believe I’m going to beat and breed this hole.  You got that?  Beat and breed.  Beat and breed.  I hope your mouth is as good as this pussy hole of yours.  If not, I’ll train ya right.

“Oh man, I’m gonna cum.  I’m gonna flood your guts.  Here it cums.  Here it fucking cums.  Get ready boy.  Uhhh!  Fuuuuuck!  Hell yeah!  Fuck!  Goddamn!  Fuck!

“Goddamn!  I love your ass.  Clamp down as I pull out.  Fuck yeah.  I can tell this isn’t your first fuck….  Don’t worry, I won’t tell your ma or my brother.  They don’t need to know. 

“Get up.  Clean me off….  What?  Look at my cock.  It needs to be cleaned up.  Get your mouth on my dick now.  Don’t question me on this….  Atta boy.  You are going to learn that living here requires you to follow my rules.  Rule one, you are getting beat then seeded when I want.  Rule two, you clean me up after yourself.  My cock rules this house and those in it.

“Ok.  Get dressed.  No, you cannot use the bathroom.  You are going to your hook up with a messed up ass, loaded up good.  If he should ask, tell him your uncle unloaded a week’s worth of baby batter in your pussy.

“Now go.  I want to hear details when you get back.  Oh and Vinny, in the future, if you want some Scotch, just ask.  Considering I’m going to beat your ass one way or the other, you kinda earned it.  Now go. 

“And take care of my babies.”

[beomnoullitheorem]

“Fucking Lost”

—“Let's get lost together, if we're bound to.”

──────────────────────

• Genre : Fluffy Smut, a little bit of angst, 18+ [NSFW]

• Trope : College AU? They're about to finish college though, friends to lovers I guess? Forced proximity? Not really.

• Starring : Non-idol!Hyuka × Obsessed!Reader

• Note : The characters in the following fiction are 18+ and everything happening around & to them is entirely consensual. Written in multiple perspectives.

→ Reader is described with pronouns like She/Her.

• Disclaimer : This is all PURE FICTION. I do not implicate any kind of reflection of the happenings/character morals etc in here to the idols' real life characters, morals etc.

→ The following content contains Mature themes and Strong languages. The content could be upsetting to some readers as well. MUST read the Warnings & Disclaimer before scrolling dow further. Reader discretion is advised.

• Word Count : 9.1k+

• Plot Warnings : INACCURATE DESCRIPTIONS OF FOREST AND STUFF RELATED TO IT, Obsessed!Possessive!Reader, Subtly-Obsessed!Kai as well? He doesn't admit his feeling at the beginning. Reader doesn't let any girl date Kai, Kai rejects a date reader arranges, Unspoken feelings, They are TRAPPED IN A FOREST, A little amount of arguments, They both argue and shut each other up as they kiss each other, A little jealous Kai, reader calls Kai an idiot in concern and anger and Kai calls her stupid, that's all I guess? They are saved by their friends group in the end.

• Smut Warnings : [MDNI] Consensual Sex, a little of Lovey-dovey Sex, Soft-Dominant!Kai, Submissive!Reader, Unprotected Sex (do not commit this, do use protections!), Pet names (Pretty, good girl, Love, Little Nugget, Cockslut, little miss slut) Confessions while sex (sort of but Kai shuts her up), Sex on huge rock (reader is rested on it), Dirty talking + fluttering compliments, nipple play, make outs, Multiple orgasms, Various positions, Slight dumbification and degradation if we squint, Loud sex as well and etc. Lemme know if I should add more.

──────────────────────

READER'S PERSPECTIVE :

Kai Kamal Huening. Or Huening Kai which he refers himself as. The love of my life. I've realized it two years ago. Boys? They're a waste of time. Or that's what I thought. Until he came along.

And now it's the last year. I might get separated from him forever.

It has all started when I was transferred to this college & I am studying with him. Two years ago, I stepped into this place that has so awaken the lover in me. I just love him. I mean he'd be soo good as my boyfriend. My lover. Please. I want him. Badly.

I swoon over him. I thrive off of his presence. I crave his attention. I yearn for his love. Be it friendship. I wanna be his friend. But not the friend-zoned friend. His friend who's a perfect girlfriend material for him.

It's crazy I've gotten into his notice. I mean, what the fuck? It's like every girl in the campus wants him. And... I'm not guilty or anything... but I feel bad since I might have pissed him off and hurt him.. as I didn't let any girl come and confess to him.

In simple words, to every girl who tried to confess and propose him, I directly tricked her into not going to him or something. I just threatened only those who were stubborn and dared to not back down.

Well... that kind of noted me for the things I haven't committed. For the love of God, I just told those gossiping bitches that I wouldn't let them live in peace.

Whole college girls at a point didn't approach him because I existed.

It was like this, until he finally decided to talk to me. Well, he didn't talk to me exactly, he kind of warned me to not meddle into his life, in the middle of hallway. Uh, I simply nodded along making it unclear. Unknown at what I agreed to.

To my surprise, after that newbies and some other girls did confess and tried to date him. And he rejected them. Not that I have ever complained but why didn't he let me do that? So he wanted to show me that I don't have to fear about girls nearing him? I didn't know nor do I.

That have had arised a fear in me that if I were to ever confess to him, he might reject me. For which, I have never tried so. He is so unapproachable. I tried to get him into a date with me. Well, it was a rejection in the end anyway. So, I know for sure that he won't be mine and I still want to be his. I have started to admire my love from afar since then.

Oh right, I never introduced myself. I am ＿＿＿. I'm the senior student in the Noulli's University Of Science And Arts. I'm a biology major, wanna be an expert with plants. Right, after my family and Kai, plants are the things I live for. My obsession ranges from identifying a random grass plant outside to build a lots of fucking tree houses to live forever, where there are all plants and their related books. I've one tree house though.

And Kai, wait- AH! I forgot. We are trapped in the forest. Actually, I somehow managed to befriend this unapproachable, only-cold-to-me, reserved guy. I have befriended Choi Soobin, and he had me befriending everyone else : Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu, Kang Taehyun and... him.

So.. they invited me to their picnic. Actually, Taehyun wanted to go to remote area. For which we had planned everything, to not to get lost in this area as well but screw my obsession with plants. I was told to get firewood and I went along the forest.

I saw those flying amanitas! Those red white-spotted mushrooms I always see in those cartoons and all, I saw them and started following those mushrooms. And I lost my way back. I have no idea where I am. And this idiot, the love of my life have come to me.

—END OF READER'S PERSPECTIVE—

KAI'S PERSPECTIVE:

I have no idea where I can start the whole thing that I've been experiencing since two years and it has become no to avail for coming to an end. It was all fine.

I knew myself very well and had my life planned out . Actually I wanna be with myself and my dear ones. I'm just pursuing my dream of being journalist. Or that's what I thought, until she came along.

Well. Everything becomes upside down when it's her. I just don't know. I have no idea who she actually is. She is so overprotective over me. No. It's not overprotective. She is completely possessive. I'm a being. I'm not a thing/person to be objectified. Though she didn't objectify me.

She has no rights to intervene in my love life. I know she loves me. But I don't. That's enough of a reason. I have many reasons not to reciprocate her feelings back.

She meddled into my life. She didn't approach me directly. She never once talked to me. But she influenced my life without having any encounter with me. And I didn't even create some subtle vibration in her life tracks till now. She made me the most unapproachable guy. Not that I care about any rumors, it somehow did trouble me.

She saved me from those infectious girls in the college. I do appreciate that but who was she to me? No one. I mean, she could atleast have some alliance or some kind of agreement with me. Something with me.

And she didn't. I let it be as it is was. Until she piqued the interest of my friend, Soobin. Boom! he got her into our friends group. She even immediately befriended everyone! But I just don't know... what I should do....

Hence, I didn't let down my walls. But who has me searching for them in the middle of woods, at dusk?

＿＿＿＿. Her.

Fuck you Taehyun! Who has asked you to choose a damn restricted and remote area. It's a forest. There might be wildlife here.

"Go. SeArCh FoR hEr. YOU dOn'T wAnT hEr ReMnAnT bOnEs. FrEsH mEaT. ReAdY tO bE EATEN." (Note the sarcasm of Kai in here)

And I even agreed to this. Why? Couldn't Taehyun, Soobin, Yeonjun or Beomgyu give me company?

"It Is FuCkInG dAyLiGhT. GeT hEr, ChIcKeN!"

She was sent for firewood and she is lost in woods. God knows where she is and I can't seem to find her.

"＿＿＿＿! ＿＿＿＿! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"

I screamed. I started going to the place where there were these mushrooms, weird plants and literally that scenery of forest we look at, in the internet.

The forest seemed weird. There were no longer the Jusses, silver maples, birches, cedars, eucalyptuses etc. There were so many strange plants. Creepers, cuscutas, huge banyans etc. Don't ask me why I know plants now. I just couldn't ignore this garrulous annoyance of human being, who had always talked about plants to the guys explaining every damn species and I couldn't ignore her.

Is this the same world I see in those movies? Am I really with humans? Where are dinosaurs?

Dear dinosaurs, I have your plushies. I'm your fan. But not a fan of you eating me– These intrusive thoughts, stop please. But what about wildlife? A lion or tiger completing my flesh and breaking my bones to eat my bone marrow?

FUCKING INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS- SHUT THE FUCK UP!

I was walking and walking. I couldn't find any signs of her. I kept yelling her name, at this point I have known that I'm lost, lost in woods. I am lost, searching for her... who is lost herself.

"AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I SCREAM! some of the birds from trees fly out. I'm lost... I'm fucking lost! I'M SO LOST!

KAI.. Calm yourself. You either search for ＿＿＿, and get together with her. Or just rot here.

So I follow my own command, I keep on yelling her name. Walking towards where these weird trees transcend. At my constant yelling of her name in the woods, after a while, I hear some voice... it is hers. "KAI! I CAN HEAR YOU!"

"＿＿＿＿! HERE! FOLLOW MY VOICE!"

And I keep yelling to get her appearing into my sight.... My legs subconsciously start pacing in a velocity that's more than the a normal one... I AM RUNNING TOWARDS HER!

Looking at me running at obviously no reason, she increases her pace and runs to me, She collides her body with, burying her face into my neck and embracing me. I tighten our collision and hug her tight.. my arms naturally wrap around hee torso and I push her into myself. It's so comforting and reassuring...

But why? Why does hugging her makes me feel full? And I don't wanna lose this!

I feel although I'm lost in a forest, I have her and I've no need to worry.. This is exactly what I don't intend to feel and yet.. She is propelling me to feel all of this..

What are you doing to me, Little Nugget?

—END OF KAI'S PERSPECTIVE—

READER'S PERSPECTIVE :

This idiot, his voice shrilled through the whole woods... I am right, they're searching for me... it's been like an hour or two, I've been walking. My tired pace of walking halts when I hear an unclear nasal voice, that almost seemed like Kai's.

As I follow that voice, it becomes clearer than before confirming IT IS KAI SEARCHING FOR ME! My eyes immediately wrinkle into happiness curves and my heaving increases as I run towards that voice. Yes, I want him in my arms. I felt too lonely without him. Don't care if he shoves me away, I'm going to hug him tight. So tight that he can not escape my hold..

I too scream at him, allowing him to have a sense of direction as he comes to locate me; my voice is completely desperate. His physique comes into my sight and my happiness peaks through the limits, increasing my speed... I run to him, clashing into his body and hugging him tight!

It was all me until I feel a pair of large arms encircling around my torso that is glued to his... am I dreaming? KAI HUGGED ME! UGH I'M MALFUNCTIONING!!

No way I'm leaving him now, I'm going to Hug him tighter! And just like that, I stop tip toeing and relax myself in his embrace, this feels good... I'm completely in his arms and that makes me feel so loved... though he doesn't love me....

Kai you're my once in a lifetime dream come true! His heartbeat is fastening I can hear it! And so is mine. He makes my heart beat again, just like how he always does with his presence... now I might start to like the fact that I'm lost in woods. Lost In Woods with him...

Oh okay, I might make him uncomfortable if I just hold him tighter and longer so... I retrieve myself from hugging him... he looks a little breathless...

"Kai, breath for a while? You're breathless," I advise him earning a scoff from him. I question him with raising my eyebrows, what did I do to earn that scoff? "As if you aren't breathless yourself panting like that," He remarks at me. Ah, I did run to him and am panting now.. I literally suck at sports. I am panting as I hugged him and overjoy made my panting audible to him lol.

—END OF READER'S PERSPECTIVE—

"Thank God, you're not eaten away..." He mutters into her ear, sighing in relief.

"Thank God you're alive as you searched for me," She smiles in reassurance, "But you shouldn't have come for me."

"What do you mean by that, ＿＿＿＿?"

"You shouldn't have been... that's it," That's all she manages to say as she still is lost in the feeling of his embrace to which his subtle soaring happiness dropped down..

Does she not want him to be with her? That thought starts plaguing Kai's mind. He feels a little pang at her words to which he, gets onto his guard again. He turns nonchalant and she does notice this change in his little demeanor.

Kai reminds, "We're Fucking lost...." She feels guilty that she pulled him into this mess and god knows if others are searching for her.. "I know... I'm sorry," She confesses, "I shouldn't have followed those magical plants."

"I know that and what matters now is........ you're safe."

"But Kai, Others are searching for me too and this forest... God know what animals dwell in here! I can't imagine where else they are and what they encountering with!"

"No one else is searching, it's just me to your rescue."

"YOU IDIOT! HOW COULD YOU SEARCH FOR ME ALONE? DO YOU NOT HAVE A LITTLE OUNCE OF SELF CONCERN THAT YOU MIGHT BE IN TROUBLE FOR ME? WHO KNOWS IF YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE FOUND ME YOU MIGHT HAVE STARVED UNTIL YOU'VE FOUND THE ROAD!!" She yells at him in worry grabbing his collar. "Don't tell me that what we ate in the car is the last thing you ate," Her voice dies down as she can't see her man suffering.

Dumbfounded Kai just mutters a little, "Uhm... I ate a little junk and then guys have asked me to fetch you..."

His answer to her, lights her eyes up & she sighs a low thank God, closing her eyes and looking up as though she really did converse with God.

"I found some wild fruits, they're edible and sour. Not exactly sour or not exactly sweet. They're just edible as the plant is a fruiting plant and I'm still alive so it's not poisonous," She says as she draws out some fruits from her jeans pocket.

"Save them for later," Kai suggests, "if we have to spend the night here, we might eat these."

"Shall we go and fetch some more?" She asks.

"Sure, if they're not enough..."

"Follow me!"

"Okay."

And Kai follows her as she takes him to the tree. Uh-oh. The fruits that were down to her reach are plucked and eaten by her. There are some, which she can reach if she gets help..

"Kai, they're up. We might need to climb the tree."

"I don't know how to. Do you?"

"Me neither."

Kai pauses for a moment. "I've an Idea," He goes to her, who's close to the tree. "What's that Kai?" She asks. He moves closer to her to which she steps aside. Kai rolls his eyes at her sudden action. "Why did you step aside?" He asks her to which she answers, "Maybe cause I was in your way?"

"I need you for that idea," Kai confessed.

"Okay tell me what I can do?"

"Stay still, be composed & balanced."

"Okay."

Kai goes to her. He is standing infront of her. But, he is dangerously close to her. He crouches down and snakes his arms around the down of her buttocks. And he picks her up. She almost pops her eyes out in surprise as he stood inches away from her and crouched down—

He picks her up and she composes herself to not fall. Why did he carry her like that? "What the fuck Kai– what is this for?"

"You can reach the fruits now, get those."

"Oh, O-Okay."

He moves closer to the tree, "I'm already carrying your ass, can't you guide me with some directions? That overwhelmed already?"

"Oh my fucking God! Kai— is that you, my Love? Move a little backwards and left...... Good. I'll throw down the fruits," She plucks the fruits using his help. Him actually teasing her has her in a chokehold. For a person who always loves him and after some rejection she didn't expect this to happen.

At one side it is her racing heart completely overwhelming her as she is just close to him... body to body close! At other side she has to get fruits. She couldn't distinguish between a leaf and a fruit, that's how affected she is.

"Move to the right Kai," She gestures. He moves to his right and while he walks, she loses her balance, shaking vigorously as she is so up onto him. She grips onto his shoulders and lowers head down with a panicked "Ah!"

"Whoa whoa whoa, careful ＿＿＿＿!" Kai chants in panick as well but he halts his movements as she lowers her head down to his ears; her breath whispers into his ears. As he stills, she slowly pulls her head up, looking at Kai... their faces inches away from each other.

Flustered Kai just oscillates his gaze from her lips to her eyes which has her gulping hard. Oh how he can feel her breath onto his face, fanning and unusually hot.

KAI'S PERSPECTIVE :

No no no! This is not fair! My subconscious system did not just made me carry her and now we're close as fuck. She breathes heavily, I can feel that. She is not focusing on plucking fruits, I know that.

And what about me? I'm malfunctioning myself as she places her hands onto my shoulders and how her boobs just rest onto my hair as she leans into my face to grab fruits. This is insane, I never noticed her boobs until now and they're too plushy. "You wanna squish them," the voice inside me announces. "No I don't!" I deny.

I deny knowing damn well, there's a lot more I deny Which I should admit internally as my subconscious suggests.

I could even smell her citrus scent oozing out her clothes and making me dizzy. I like such scents and it wouldn't be too bad to smell her like this? Oh no Kai, just shut the fuck up & walk properly!

But this is insane! She doesn't have any fucking need to lose her balance and breathe near my ears. That's kind of heating me up.... and if she has to pull back, why can't she do it in one go?

She pulls back so slowly and halts as her lips are centimeters apart from mine. My eyes immediately look at her lips which are too tempting. No, I shouldn't. I don't like her at all. Why did I come to her? Why do her words affect in a way they shouldn't?

Her throat bobs down, as though it's something that has her in a chokehold and me? I find myself letting lout a breath that I didn't know I was holding...

This dangerous proximity that she and I now are sharing... it's too tempting to just break it. The feeling of her having like this, so close to me? It's so unnecessarily good that though I want her put her down, my hands just don't seem to move or it's my system forbidding my denials of our tension.

Don't look at me like that... I don't wanna lose my control. It's on thin ice now.

Little Nugget, you drive me fucking insane and I hate that I do like it....

Silence. That's what I hear among us. The wind from the trees around flows, the sound of leaves etc echoes and our breaths too. Her gaze too lingers into my eyes and then travels down. What are you willing to do?

—END OF KAI'S PERSPECTIVE—

She can't handle the heat. She might end up kissing him. "I picked- eno-enough fruits... Let m-me down?"

"Ah, yeah," Kai lets her down. Turning away and fanning himself using hands, he huffs out. She turns away, placing her hands on her chest and whispering, "That's okay, this was just the heat of the moment, you are just flustered that was not an almost-kiss at all..!!"

Little did she miss her man fanning himself at their little tension, she is completely unaware of her effect on him. She gathers her courage and herself.

She grabs all the fruits and fills them in her jeans's pockets. She hands the rest to Kai who fills his pockets with those fruits. Rest of them in his T-shirt's pocket at his chest and in his jackets pockets.

They look like kid buddies who sneak at nights to steal some chocolates but densely caught because they're having pocket full of it.

They look a little awkward but animals don't rate their outfits. And anything for survival so both of them hold back laughter at how funny they look to each other.

She finally calms herself and he does too.

"It's not dark... so shall we walk? Do you atleast remember your way back or are you suffering the same as me?" She asks, earning an agreeing hum from Kai.

"I don't remember, Suffering the same as you with you," Answers Kai, "Yep let's walk till it darkens."

"We just need to find the road," She professes rolling her eyes at him and Kai nods to it.

"Which way shall we go? Shall we decide with rock-paper-scissors?" Kai asks. "Yep, let's decided on its basis," She replies.

Both of them say a "Rock-paper-Scissors" in unison and he lets out an o as he drew the paper and she drew the scissors. "Let's go this way," She points to some direction and Kai nods along to her decision.

They walk with no sense of direction, completely based on whims and praying that they find the road. In order to lighten up the situation, she tries some lines at him.

"Kai, can I call you Mangifera? You make me feral and you're magnificent and you're my mango!" She chirps at him. He grimaces at that and taunts, "No thanks."

"What about Solaminum Tuberosome?" She chirps again.

"What the fuck is that?"

"You're my serious cute potato!"

He scoffs an irrestible laugh at her, sarcastic in the end, remarking at her— "You're sick."

"No I'm not! You just can't handle my lines at you. So you just shrug me off this way."

"You're delusional."

"Uh, not exactly when I can make you mine at any moment."

"In your dreams."

"Are you chlorophyll? Because I'm drawn to you like a plant to sunlight."

He looks at her, stopping his pace. Just a poker face trying to hide his smile.

"Did it work?"

"What?"

"My pick up line."

"I was wondering if God is with you or not, cause you need him bad. You're absolutely sick."

"You meanie, that's called lovesick!"

"All I hear is blah blah blah, are you perhaps some lamb?"

"Fuck you!"

"In your dreams, again."

"Really? What if I actualize it soon Kai?"

"You'll never, until and unless I let you."

She goes close to him and tip toes, looking intensely in his eyes. She lowly says, "What if you will let me?"

"That will forever be a 'what if' it will never be real."

"I wish to change that," She seriously confesses to which Kai also moves closer and says, "You'll always fail."

This is new. Kai never talked this much to her. And she's enjoying this. Also, her heart feels a pang at his harsh words that just reject her. She feels it's better to keep going than bickering as the sun has already set and it's darkening.

"Fine you won!"

"This is exactly why you shouldn't let your friend know that you love him."

"Thanks for the lesson, Monk."

"You're always welcome for preaching, Lady."

READER'S PERSPECTIVE :

He really is a mean idiot. I don't know anymore if I hate him or love him. He knows I love him and he's using it against me. But he has never talked this much to me. That feels good. Though he bickers awful with me.

But once again, we find each other close. Being in this forest is now making me feel like loving it and getting lost forever. Maybe this way he'll come to love me? No stop your weird thoughts ＿＿＿＿! You're making him fall for you, in normal TPO.

We almost kissed. That's insane. Will he.... perhaps let me hold his hands? I'm kind of scared ( a straight lie ). "Kai?" I call him out and he looks at me. "What?"

"I'm scared," I lie, only to see if he is willing to hold hands with me or not. I love him, can't I atleast try to get him? "And...?" He nonchalantly asks.

"Let me hold hands with you?" I shamelessly say it out. "What does that has to do with you being scared?"

"What if I'm pulled away by some monsters? This is becoming scary... the only light here is from the moon."

"Monsters don't exist."

"But I just don't wanna lose you... I'm scared. What if we're both separated by two animals trying to eat us?"

He stops and and grabs my arms. HE ENTAGLES MY ARMS WITH HIS! A WORLD PAUSE! MY MAN ENTAGLED HIS ARMS WITH MINE!

Is it okay if I just rest my head on his shoulder and walk lazily ahead? This feels a crime so good! No, he's my favourite crime to commit. This feels so good, I love it!

—END OF READER'S PERSPECTIVE—

KAI'S PERSPECTIVE :

She's been spamming at me with her weird ass pick up lines that just keep on fluttering my heart. They just are, I've no idea why it's happening. As if her lines at me aren't enough, she asks, "Let me hold hands with you?"

NO! LIKE YESSING— I MEAN NO-ING NO!

"That's something you and your heart can't handle," my subconscious is conscious again. Ugh, stop being as delusional as her subconscious! "No I'm stating facts!"

Again. Shut the fuck up for a while subconscious.

She spouts some random non-sense. And then at last she says, "But I don't wanna lose you... I'm scared. What if we're separated by two animals trying to eat us?"

Animals. Animals! She's right. We haven't come across, doesn't mean we aren't going to come across any. We are! No. I ain't being eaten alone. I've a partner now. I wish to die with her! She's my partner!

No way. Holding hands is like some weak bond. I'll fucking have her arms locked with mine. Just you wait and watch! If we're meant to die and to be eaten, we'll die and be eaten together!

And that's how I entwine my arms with hers. My sudden selfish action gets out some real surprised reaction from her but she slowly relaxes her entwined arm in mine. I'm so cunning, I'm sorry heavens.

And we walk. Walk. Arms interlocked. Her smiling at this and me hiding back mine.

"You like having her around you," My subconscious again. No I don't! It's just I'm forced now. She can't die alone, I will have to be there for her. "Sure whatever helps you sleep at nights, I can't believe I'm your subconscious. "

Get lost! "Sure I will." My subconscious is bickering with me, wow. But.. This feels... good. Having her arms with mine.. is just so... nice.

"Kai....!" She breathes, "Let's rest. We're lost. Completely lost."

"I know," I reply, "There's that huge rock over there," I point towards a rock that catches my eye. She hurries me to walk till there, while she her holds her knees, breathing in and out, as though she had run a marathon. She has been walking for god knows how long, before I have had met her.

She must be tired... it's better if we rest now. And we hurry there. She uses her feet to sweep off the leaves and seats herself down. I take out all the fruits and place them down. Wait– what's that? Is that my phone? MY PHONE?! WHY DID I HAVE NO IDEA ABOUT IT?!

"＿＿＿＿!" I call her out, smiling so happily, "I've my phone!!"

"What??? KAI YOU'RE OUR SAVIOUR! JUST TRY SENDING OUR LOCATION TO BOYS AND GIRLS!"

"Yes Yes, I'm on it. Let me call someone and let them know we're fine."

As I opened my phone, I saw no call notifications. I opened caller app, there's nothing. Why didn't no one call me? That's not what matters Huening! Just call someone. I immediately find my recent call log and call Yeonjun Hyung's. My calls aren't working. There are signals! Oh fuck no towers!! As I call other guys and girls, there's nothing to avail. No signals.

"＿＿＿＿," I call her, my voice literally having zero happiness which she does notice. "Kai, what's wrong?"

"No towers... no signals... this phone is utterly of waste." I confess, falling down at my knees in sheer dissapointment. I'm SO PISSED OFF AT THIS UGH!

She nears me and cups my cheeks. "That's okay," She cajols, "I'll use this fetch some fire wood."

"Don't get lost again," I say as I'm reminded that I can still use this for light.

She gets up and takes my phone. Turning on the flashlight. Wait, I'll go with her. This darkened night... feels awfully alright when I'm with her..

"I'm coming," I get up, "Let's get lost together if we're bound to."

"Haha, so funny Kai." She finds some firewood and hands them to me. I helpfully take them all as she places them in my arms. So we collect a handful of some wood that she said is alright to burn, and we return. To our little Rocky home. "Last thing! I forgot!"

"What's it?"

"That's stone's to lit up some fire and some dry leaves to catch that spark! Atleast a pad/plane like wood so I can make fire."

"Oh fuck, we weren't just collecting firewood without having anything to make some."

"I know right? Let's take both the means."

"Sure."

And she successfully finds the things she mentioned to get. We walk back and seat ourselves. We collected a lot. That's gonna be enough till the dawn.

"Kai, can you check the stones if they make fire when we strike them together? Till then I'll check if I can make fire using the pad like wood and sticks."

"Yep, will be on it," I say.

I take the stones and strike them against each other. Nope, these are a fail. Another two, fail. Mixing the pair trying out, wait– this one feels fiery. I'll try this one with others. So I keep going at it.

And after a few minutes, I succeed! Yes, they do produce sparks! I look over at her.. she's been spinning a stick at the wood for a while getting some smokes. Well, she doesn't have to strain on it anymore!

"Hey, don't strain on it, let's arrange the sticks. The stones do produce sparks!" I cheer her, to which she smiles at me. And stops her strain.

"Good, I'll arrange the sticks."

"I'll help."

"Sure."

—END OF KAI'S PERSPECTIVE—

They help eachother out. They coordinate well together. But he's just too adamant to accept that he likes being around her and admires her.

She arranges the fire sticks into a conical tent, places some dry leaves and strikes the stones onto eachother.

At n attempts, she finally lits up the leaves and makes fire. Overjoyed Kai just cheers some yays and wohoos immediately slaps his palms onto hers; which are already ready for a high-five!

"We won't freeze tonight," Kai exclaims, "All because of you Nugget!" He warms his hands to the fire and so does she. She and he seat themselves on the ground; her laying her back onto the rock.

Wait, what? Did she hear him right? He called her a Nugget! "That's so fucking cute," She exclaims to herself. Did he just call her the nickname he so hidden from her itself? Yes, he did and now watch him divert the topic.

"So, learning Biology...like teaches you how to survive?"

"Uh no, I as a child was fascinated by getting lost in forest and then actually you know to understand about trees, I read books about survival. Later my plant knowledge added to it. Didn't ever expect that it would be used today."

"Makes sense. That's you completely."

"I know right? I just love plants and trees."

"More than anything?"

"Uhm, no."

"What's the first thing you love?"

"My family, the first; the love of my life, the second; my passion for being a plant expert, the third and Myself, the last."

"So who's that love of your life? Don't tell now it's me."

She grimaces at him. "Is he for real now? Fine, I'll play a bit," she thinks.

"Uhm, yeah... I guess it's not you, anymore. There is this guy though, in your group. I wish he was the who found me here–"

Those same words that panged his heart which he denied before are rung in his ears again and he loses his shit at that.

"Oh hell no! I'm not taking this shit no more. You stupid girl, shouldn't you be glad that atleast I found you? Like now you're being picky about who has to find you? Even when we met as we're lost, you said it shouldn't have been me. Why did I risk myself, getting lost in this damn forest... only for you to say, 'iT sHoUlD nOt hAvE bEeN YoU KaI,' or something like, 'i WiSh He WaS tHe OnE wHo fOuNd mE hErE— Like what am I? A chopped liver? Do you know how much you affect me? How upside down my life has turned the moment you stepped into it? No like, without even meeting/talking to me you just flipped my life upside down and even when I'm like cursing the life out of you, you just stare at me! Do I not affect you the same– oh no, you're not coming close to me and then just stare at me–"

Kiss. She kisses him. The man who was just now rambling all his curses at her is shut up now. She shushed him with her lips onto his. She pulls back, "Sorry, kissing you seemed the only way to Shush you." He widens his eyes at the feeling of her lips.

This is reckless. He might hate her. She didn't know what to do. Continuing his argument seemed the only way to make him forget about the kiss.

"And you mister! Wait a damn minute. When I said it shouldn't have been you, I meant that I didn't want you to be the one searching for me. Like what if, WHAT IF, you hadn't found me? What would you be doing now? Waiting to be eaten or rotten? No I'm not picky about it. Hell I'm overjoyed that it's you. And it's not my fucking problem that you ain't affecting me in YOUR point of view. If you had ever given me a chance, I'd literally would have shown you how my greenery filled life became a rainbow because of you! You even said no to my date and never talked to me fully. Hell I felt like we were just some damn name-sake friends because you're fucking reserved. All the times I tried to talk you ignored me. I did everything I could to get you to me but all I could manage to get was not you but your reserved and distant treatment! And you want me to say what? I love you? Knowing damn well that you fucking terrify me of the rejection? I can't imagine being rejected by you! And that guy I just mentioned is you, you prick! Now tell me what do I—"

Kiss. He kisses her NOW to shut her up. Chill out Kai, she's just trying to distract you by continuing the argument. The woman is awestruck at this. As soon as he pulls back, she stays still.

"Kai?" She calls him looking at him in astonishment, "Did you kiss me just now?"

"Didn't you just kiss me few moments ago?" He says, rubbing his lips in mischief.

"I'm dreaming. This isn't real at all. You didn't kiss me!"

"What if," He catches her attention to his words, "I say... that this time you ask me out and I say yes?"

"Shut up, delusional thoughts! This ain't happening, is it?" She face palms herself and breathes these words of her out.

"What if I say I didn't ever intend to reject you?"

"What do you mean," she squeals, "THIS AIN'T REAL!"

"You didn't kiss me, I kissed you. I'm.. I'm- in delusion that you didn't mind me kissing you... now I suddenly hear you say that you didn't intend to reject me! Am I dreaming or what the fuck?" She pinches her cheeks hardly and then winces in pain.

"No! I'm feeling fake pain! This is dream!"

He sighs at her denial state, "If kissing you has gotten you to this state... I wonder what you will do if I fuck you? Do I just remind you again & again by fucking you?"

"Haha NO, cause you're not my Kai. If it is my Kai, I'll say yes!"

"I am your Kai," He kisses her, "I kissed you like this just now.."

He doesn't break the kiss and tops her over. He lays her back onto the rock's support and cups her cheeks as he pulls back, "Shall I?"

She thinks it's better to not let her denial emotions get over and she finally accepts that it is her Kai kissing her now. "Yes Please...!"

He chuckles at her desperate answer and attaches lips onto hers. Inclines his head onto the other side and enters his tongue into hers. She gladly lets him and starts swirling her tongue around his.

She lets out some sweet muffled noises in between the kiss and so does he, because damn... he has no idea why he has taken it this far but oh he's liking it so damn much that now stopping this feels absolutely wrong...

This feels awfully good. Oh how she has dreamed this in countless nights, fantasizing how he would make love to her .. How he would make out with her...

Thus, she strips him off his jacket and throws it away. He slips in his hands and starts exploring her torso. Massaging her plush skin, extracting goosebumps and arches from her.

She pulls back from the smooch and pulls off his T-shirt with him reciprocating the same; laying her bare on her bra and pants. He is left half-naked. She kisses his lips and traverses it down his jaw, planting some carmine love bites.

"Hah... so desperate aren't you?" He moans at her kisses and she replies, "I have waited for this my whole life. Of course, I am!"

"Hmmm... is that it? Then I shall give you what you desire," He pulls her chin up with his one hand and his other is busy unclasping her bra. He unclasps her bra, letting her boobs free.

The same pair of organs that rested on his hair as she plucked fruits and he noticed her boobs... he rubs the pad of his finger at his nipples making them erect... he palms one and starts sucking onto it, stimulating her in the best way possible.

She lets out few gasps and quiet moans... he makes her stand up, stripping her of her pants, he groans at the sight of her panty, erecting a tent in his own. She astoundingly looks at the tent and caresses on it.

She desperately unzips his jeans, and makes him strip himself off of that. Revealing him in boxers which are erecting a huge tent. She looks at him through her lashes and licks her lips as though that were her dessert.

He gets fully soused at her desperate looks and his mouth starts spouting in spontaneous manner as it is natural.

He grunts at the caress, "You want it? You want my cock?" Piercing through her soul as he ogles at her. She is arched on the standing, and her legs are split as he takes one of hers into his arms.

"Yes, I do," She answers lasciviously, "I want it Kai!"

"That's my good girl," Kai whispers, "You know what good girls say to get their things done?"

"Please! Please Kai, Fuck me!"

"That's right," Kai praises in his low, quiet & sexy voice, "That's my smart good girl.."

He rips off her panty and she gets his boxers down, both of them completely naked. As she is split, he aligns his cock at her pooling entrance... She quietly chants, "Fuck fuck fuck, Yes, fuck me Love!"

Her desperation just buoys him up, as he starts sheathing himself in her, moaning at how tight her little cunt is and earns a long moan from her. He stays still for a moment as he didn't prep her and now he just stops his dick from twitching inside her to cum.

He pulls out, as slow as he can, and strikes in her; deep and forceful. The moment he stilled his cock inside her, she feels her legs turning into jelly. How pleasuring and mind wrecking it is that she keeps on gasping in moans though he hasn't started his moment in her... until he has pulled out and fucked it into her hard that has made her whimper loudly.

He moves in and out of her, her soft walls clenching so badly at his cock and her biting her palms to conceal in her moans... He asks, "Nugget.. Yes... squeeze more.. just like that.. and haah... what's that?" He removes her palm from her mouth and observes how she closed her eyes feeling all the pleasure in.

"What am I doing?" He thinks. "Exactly what you're supposed to do. I'm proud of you my body," His subconscious taunts at him to which Kai doesn't deny. "Being with her feels good, Doing stuff with her feels good and fucking her? It's an absolute heaven!" He thinks.

"Show me your face and... Pretty girl.. a good girl don't look away from the man who's fucking her.. come on, look at me as you scream?" Kai tilts her head facing his. She does as she is told; her a complete blushing and moaning mess as she looks at him with most doe eyes. This gesture of her just encourages Kai to go faster.

"Louder my good girl, Scream.. there's no here except us... Scream," He kisses her cheeks and she increases her volume of chanting moans. As he fucks her in such a soft, pleasuring and fast pace, she screams as she is told and squeezes him tighter. He grows louder as penetrating into her becomes more and more ecstatic.

"You love this....don't you? You're so loud ugh... and shameless huh? Haah....you're fucking me though you're Lost mmhm? Tell me would you have done this with others?" He spouts this with venom in his voice to which she shooks her head vigorously in a no. What does make her happy is that he called himself as her partner and she would fuck him if he is it!

"Words little miss slut!" He pinches her nipples. Groping at her breasts, completely harsh. "That's like it Kai!" She yells at him in her mind in sheer pleasure. "I- w-wouldn't! Only you, only you my love!"

He chuckles in between his moans and thrusts, "That's right," he fucks into her, notices how both of them were sweating and the moonlight making her seem so pretty. This full moon night and them going at it like animals in heat. "She is so hot!" He thinks and grunts as he feels himself close to his orgasm.

"K-Kai, I'm s-so close!" She squeals in pleasure. "Wait for me, I'm there too... Haagh!" He moans. His pace goes sloppier as his dick twitches reaching close to release. She couldn't control herself and she creams his cock with the loudest moan that she has ever let out and Kai moans a loud-long fuck and empties his load in her.

Both of them throw heads back and pant. Kai looks at her and says, "Let's go for another round!"

"Yes please! It's not enough!" He chuckles at her answer and grabs her another leg, pulling her in air and putting her onto the rock. Her both legs in his both arms, her back glued to the stone and her cunt dripping with the cum that Kai has had filled her up with.

His relaxed dick perks up again as she is completely spread out, her whole vulva in full display to Kai's eyes. "Oh fuck... you're so sexy, pretty."

"As if you aren't some angel yourself, Kai... waste no time, come on fuck me hard!"

"Okay, as you say Little Nugget," He pummels his cock into her. She clenches hard onto it. He grunts and goes unbelievably hard and fast into her, extracting sonorous coarse screams of pleasure from her.

How adept and good he is fucking that she squeezes his cock so tight, extracting so many groans, grunts, moans and filthy curses from her.

"Stop doing that... stop clenching l-like that... ugh... I'm losing it... " He moans and she smiles, "Yes Kai! Lose it and fuck me!"

"Aren't I fucking you already? Huh... you dirty little girl- I should fuck you like this often... so you become my cockslut... you would like that wouldn't ya?"

"Aaah yes Kai! I would...Harder!"

He increases his intensity and goes on fucking her. He reaches her so deep in this position, hits her so in the right spots that in this heated rhapsody, she gets lost in pleasure. Her perky boobs swing to his oscillating thrusts making her seem so lewd.

"So so so sexy and lewd, aren't you? That's how you are... fuck I can go on like this forever..."

She unconsciously clenches hard at his dick despite of him asking her not to, at his praises.. He feels the overwhelming bliss while he ruts into her.

She grabs his cheeks and kisses him, whispering a few I love yous to which Kai shushes her up because he wanted her to confess her love to him at the same time as him. He slams his lips onto hers, darting his tongue inside her mouth.. wrestling with hers. She pulls his face over to hers and kisses him deeply. He muffled his moans in the kiss and she smooches his lips as bad as she could.. as if there is no tomorrow.

As they continue to fuck, she finds herself close to her release and pulls back, "I'm close.." She feels all the organs in her stomach twist and turn, notifying her that she's about to cum.

Kai just says, "I'm there... let's cum together," and increases his pace. Reaching to his extremity, as his dick just accumulates it all and is completely convulsing making him become messier with his movements and he finally thrusts his cum-thrust into her... spamming yet again into her.

She cums on his cock again, clenching at it again and again. This was literally the best fuck she and he has ever had in their life. She drips off the cum. He giggles at his work, lets her down and helps her stand as she wobbles.

"Stand like this, I'll fetch our clothes," Kai looks around letting her know, and helps her to get support from the rock, "Damn we threw them so far." And he fetches the clothes. She is completely exhausted and waits for him to return.

He comes back and hands her clothes to wear. They both dress themselves up. "Ugh.. you ripped my panty Kai!" She scolds him.

"Oopsies! I forgot we were in forest."

"Screw you!"

"You already did."

"Of course, didn't I tell you that I would actualize it tonight? I did and you fucked me all on your will, huh!" She flips her hair proudly.

He chuckles and says, "All because of my own reasons and of course you aren't the tiny bit of them."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kai! Just admit it, you like me be it a tiny bit but you do!"

"I don't know. I don't I guess."

"Whatever."

"We really have to bath soon Kai," She says looking at his messy state and imagining hers. "Let's sleep for now and search for the road tomorrow," Kai suggests her and she nods to it.

"We gotta sleep the other side, there's so much cum here..." Kai points out and she looks at it..She flushes in embarrassment and yells at him, "You did that!"

"Not me, it's you!" Kai talks back and shift the wood and stones to the other side. He arranges the sticks in a tent again and lits them up. She follows him lazily and sits down on the ground.

"Shall we eat these?" Kai asks pointing at the fruits. "Give me and have some," She replies. Kai hands her some fruits and watches her eat. Then eats them as she does, peeling the fruit and eating the insides as he was confused how to eat those.

"Mmm, not sweet or sour... just eat-able..." Kai says eating the fruits.

She peels some and feeds to Kai, "Say aaahhh," He unhesitantly does it and eats the fruits. "This one is a little sweet. That's why I fed you." He blushes at that.

"Let's sleep, shall we?" He asks scooting to the rock and resting his back onto it. She scoots over as well but a little distant from him.

"Stop acting like a gentle woman after fucking me , scoot over to me!" Kai taunts at her and she rolls her eyes. He removes jacket, draws his arms out so she can sneak in his embrace. She does go towards him and places herself between his arm and his torso, resting her head onto his shoulder. He blankets her and himself with his jacket and rests his head onto hers.

She reminisces about all that had happened now and blushes at it. She's happy. All the things he said, before sex... he doesn't intend to reject her now? She is happy as fuck now.

"Kai?" She looks up at him. He hums asking her proceed to say. "Look at me?" She asks him. He does and she kisses him again, snaking her arms around his torso. He kisses her back.

"One chance... is all I need," she murmurs... and he shrugs this off as he asks her to sleep.

"Meanie." She inflates her cheeks and sleeps onto his shoulder. Both of them sleep in the forest in each other's warm embrace.

"I think... she's worth it... " Kai decides.

The fire extinguishes after a while and they're lost in the woods and their dreamlands. They snuggle in closer together as they feel the cold. They sleep and cuddle so sweetly.

After hours, the sun rises... waking up Kai.. He feels his arms are dead as she had been sleeping on it since the night. She turns to other side, hugging his arms. He finds her cute and kisses her forehead. "Nugget.. wake up...it's morning."

She opens her eyes at feeling of his lips on her forehead and chirps a lazy and groggy "Good morning my penguin!"

Surprised Kai just chuckles at that, he moves his dead arm around. "It must be around 6 I guess?" Kai says earning an agreeing hum from her.

She gets up finally, stretching her arms out and yawning. Kai gathers the fruits and gestures her, "Shall we eat these and search for the road?"

"We didn't brush, we reek of sex but we have to keep going ugh... I crave water, bath and some real food as fuck..."

"I know... that's why. Let's eat them real quick and walk!"

"Okie dokie!"

And they eat the fruits in the chilling morning. And start walking. They walk into a whole different direction this time and keep going.

Meanwhile, The other boys and girls decided to search for Kai and her in the roads as Taehyun has a feeling they're struggling for finding the road. If they find the road, they're 70% rescued. Following the road might even get them to some another town. Or they might find each other.

So everyone else kept yelling Kai's and her name hoping they're close to the road and have heard their voice as they moved slowly in cars.

This continues for an hour or two. Kai hears a faint scream, familiar to him echoe from a direction. "This way! Someone's here-" He grabs her and runs along that direction. Miracle that their friends finally reached the surrounding area!

Beomgyu's loud coarse scream gets clearer as she and Kai run together... They start screaming, "WE ARE HERE! WAIT FOR US!"

"We are found ＿＿＿＿!"

"YES WE ARE FOUND KAI! LET'S RUN!"

Running as fast as they could while they screamed to be found... they found the road. She and Kai hug each other and jump in happiness. They run and scream together. The cars that were moving slowly farther away from them halted and someone popped up the roof hole of the car.

Kai and she jump, wave and do what not to get their attention! Beomgyu who peeked at the pair from the roof window immediately guides everyone to drive back. Oh yes! They're found. They're saved.

How relieved she and Kai are that they almost teared up. But stop their crying as the car is theirs! And run towards it. The car halts as they reach them.

The car finally reaches and Yeonjun pops out, grabbing Kai and her in his embrace. Everyone else, her friends and guys come out and just reunite together by embracing one another!

"You guys are alive! We were right to search in the roads!!" Her friends say hugging her tight.

"Taehyun had the feeling and he's right, we found you bro!" Guys hug Kai.

"Omg, give us some water..we're fucking dehydrated," she pants... they hand both of them water bottles which both of them chug completely down finishing the bottles. "Let's just go to some nearby town and stop by, we need to bath.. we stink," She and Kai say to which they nod and finally seat themselves in the car.

Kai sits together with her and grabs her palm in his. He says, "Thank you... for staying strong and being good with plants knowledge that we didn't starve...."

She holds his palm with her both hands and says, "Thanks for being there, looking after me and giving me strength.."

Taehyun who notices this sweet conversation between them remarks, "Holding hands and sitting together? Sweet talks as well huh? We missed a lot!"

She blushes at his statement and chuckles. No one sees it coming but flustered Kai says...

"Can't I hold hands with my girlfriend?"

—THE END.

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IMPORTANT Mentions :

I almost forgot, Shot out to @kosmokai who has had encouraged me to write this when I was completely afraid & stuck to write this. Thank you so much, Sipho... only with your encouragement I made it <3

Also, thanks to @jadethevampress and @strwbbiiii for reading this and letting me know what they think even when it was incomplete 💀 & I nagged you guys to read, hehe <3

A little request, I appreciate if you accept <3

Please!! Reblog, or just tell me what you think about this!! If you don't wanna reblog or leave a reply/comment PLEASE come to my inbox and send me feedback on anonymous, I thrive off of feedbacks and when I see very little of reblogs and commments, that stings a little but I really appreciate any gesture!! (T^T)

#txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt fanfic #txt smut #txt x y/n #txt x reader #txt x oc #txt x you #hyuka hard thoughts #hyuka hard hours #hyuka smut #hyuka x reader #huening kai x y/n #huening kai x you #huening kai x reader #huening kai smut #smutnoulli writes

[panda-panoptic]

Reworking Alfred’s entire character

I’m obsessed with this stupid son of a bitch, let’s get into it

I think too many people make him too uwu nice and forgiving as if most Americans don’t hold life long grudges over a ball game. Or that we can’t be serious at the drop of a hat when it comes down to it. Like when we say fuck around and find out we mean it, which apparently that’s a very American thing. Yes the dumb bitch stereotype is real, but there’s such a “you’re joking right?” attitude among people when it comes to certain things that I think he could go from playful to serious in a second, to the point where it might trip some people up. Especially when it comes to moral issues.

Also I hate that him being super obsessed with his image and how he’s seen by others is interpreted as sad uwu emo boy instead of clean girl maniac Patrick Bateman type of egotistical freak.

He should also be more apathetic and serious about work instead of “omg let’s build a ladder to the moon!” You have not set foot in this capitalistic hellscape if you think that’s an accurate way to characterize him lmao.

On top of that, he’s a fake ass bitch and that should be expanded on. Like he is definitely the type of person that has a million different ways of presenting himself and his personality to the point where he’s not sure who he really is.

He should be a lot more ego driven too. Like “how is this going to reflect on ME” not “I’m doing this ONLY out of the goodness of my big heart uwu”. Not that he can’t or doesn’t care, but if it reflects well on him then he’s more likely to choose that option.

Anyway, this is just some of my thoughts, im sure I’ll add more in the future

(If you characterize him differently that’s fine this is just me rambling and being obsessed)

#hetalia #aph hetalia #aph #hws #hws hetalia #hetalia world stars #aph america #hetalia world series #hws america #axis powers hetalia #hetalia america #alfred freedom jones #alfred f. jones #alfred f jones #hetalia alfred #hetalia headcanon #hetalia headcanons #character interpretation