#clyde x reader fluff

[greenxgloss]

Meet Cute -2-

Taglist: @nevvdrinksteaa @romanroyapoligist @444rockstargf @wildathevrt @urmomsucksfrogs @hxllhxund @xxbl00d-cl0txx @lucidfever @teamokirkhammett @kappasbbgirl @jasperthefriendlyghostt

“oh? Little Miss Troubled Home wants me to save her again?”

contents: suggestive language, underage drinking, angst, fluff

Tonight you were glued to your bedroom window, unsure when to call Clyde. usually, the boy has to think about this. maybe that’s why they’d take so long sometimes, you thought, remembering all those times your girlfriends would be sat, waiting by their phones for a boy to call. the more you contemplated the more you muffled out background noise, which included your phones ringing.

when you snapped out of it you answered the call. “party at my house tonight. you comin'?” your friend Myra spoke through the phone, her excitement bubbling. “oh absolutely.” you giggled.

myra was one of your few friends who stayed behind this summer while everyone else was off getting settled in their dorms and student housing or browsing college campuses. myra threw epic ragers every summer which included the occasional drunk girl puking into a vase or fern and some one-night stand taking place in the master bedroom. all the fixings for a night you’d definitely remember.

you quickly dressed up, sprayed your perfume and rushed down the stairs. “hey mom gonna be at Myra’s. don’t wait up for me.” you spoke as quickly as you rushed. “call me if you need anything.” she managed to get out, neglecting to look up from her old erotica, probably dreaming of Fabio inching his hands up her blouse. you cringed at the thought and stumbled out the front door as you got your second shoe on.

as you walked down the street to Myra’s you wondered if you should tell her about Clyde. then you spiralled into a black hole of thought, deciding what you thought of Clyde and if he was worth telling your friends about.

“Hey! Drinks in the kitchen. not everyone’s here yet.” Myra exclaimed as she embraced you at her front door. “been craving a shot for days. took a while for you to throw a party this summer.” you said to Myra as she led you to the kitchen, handed you a beer and began pouring you a shot. “oh yeah parents had stuff to do before they left for the month.” she recounted as you cracked the can open. “anything new for you yet? summer's been in session for a week. something's had to have happened.” she speculated as she poured her own shot. “I swear you only ask me that when something is new.” you giggled as you cheered your shot glasses and downed your liquid courage.

“a mother knows, y/n.” she joked, not even wincing. you decided this year you were going to do better on your grades even though you wouldn’t dare set foot on a post-secondary campus. just to prove to your parents… well you don’t know what you were proving but you do know that the self-discipline you mastered in the last 10 months saved you from alcoholism so you won’t regret it at all. “I was at the skate park the other day and I maybe met a boy.” you smiled, walking away to leave Myra chasing after you. "no fucking way?” she just about screamed. “yup and I slept over at his house.” you giggled as you walked into Myra’s room and sat on her bed.

“you had sex?! Is this about your whole revelation?” she gasped leading you to roll your eyes. “no that’s the best part. he was sweet and I told him I didn’t want to go home so we just talked until we fell asleep.” you explained the night you’d spent at Clyde’s. Myra's expression said it all, absolute joy plastered on her face. “oh I know his dick is big.” she said, nudging your shoulder, both of you almost spilling your drinks. “Myra!!” you scolded. “the point is that it wasn’t sexual. it wasn’t even romantic. we were just there. I don’t know it might be too soon to tell but I think I like him.” you told her as you laid back on her bed. “wow. y/n liking someone. never thought I’d see the day.” she joked.

Throughout high school, you were stuck on the notion that boys were gross. and they were, but you realized at some point, between prom and graduation, that it was just the boys at your school that were gross. you were eager to escape the unhygienic and stinky boy funk that was the male population at your high school and you finally let yourself be open to the idea of dates, flowers, and kisses. but for some reason now that you’ve allowed yourself to become available guys stopped asking you out. there was a drought and you were disappointed.

“sooo tell me more about this mystery boy.” Myra begged and this alone worked you up. “he’s gorgeous. long dark hair, light eyes, typical skater apparel, band manager with his own apartment THE WHOLE NINE, MYRA.” you gushed thinking about Clyde, shaking Myra by her shoulders. “band manager?! where'd you find this guy?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Right!?” you giggled. "what was it like? how’d you end up in his apartment?” she quizzed you, indulging in your excitement about this boy.

you began telling Myra all about Clyde, minding every detail. "I just don't know when to call." you scoffed at your indecisiveness. “I guess when it feels right. when you need him around, you'll know. wait till it feels natural y'know?” she coached you. you’d never gotten serious with a boy, partly because you've never liked a boy but you do like Clyde. watching every '90s romcom growing up made you feel like something was wrong with you because you'd never had feelings for anyone. but boy did you love those movies.

“All right I need another drink.” Myra laughed as she stood off her bed, returning to the kitchen. “oh!! you have Malibu?” you exclaimed as you poured yourself another shot and downed it. before you could put your shot glass down someone bumped into you and spilled their entire drink all over your top. you gasped loudly before they could begin to apologize. “fuck I’m so sorry!” he squealed in embarrassment as he handed you a rag. “it’s okay don’t stress.” you sighed, dabbing your clothes as dry as you could though your shirt had soaked the alcohol up.

“do you want a change of clothes?” Myra asked, sympathetically as you walked off, now with water to drink. you felt defeated and tired like this was karma for some odd reason. “no, I think this is my queue to leave.” you answered, causing worry to spill over Myra’s face. “what? but you always sleep over after my parties.” she cried out. Still, you shrugged. “yeah that was because I didn’t want my mom to give me shit for being drunk.” you began as you continued drying yourself off. “what and she’s not gonna give you shit now?” she asked as you both walked into her bathroom. she sat up on the counter and you looked up at her. “I can stay over another time if that’s what you’re worried about.” you giggled. “my mom is laying off now that I’m 18 so it’s all good there. I’ll sit out in your room for a while so she doesn’t ask why I’m back so soon.” you comprised, hoping she’d calm down.

you both smiled at each other in silence before Myra began laughing. “Fine! Fine!” she rolled her eyes. “but you’re coming back tomorrow.” she begged, getting ahold of both your hands and squeezing them. “okay alright I’ll be here tomorrow afternoon.” you assured her as you began washing your hands and finally walked out to her room.

once Myra went out to host her now full house you pulled out your phone and called Clyde. “hey I’ve been waiting for your call.” he spoke. you could swear his smile was audible. “oh you miss me?” you giggled, now subconsciously playing with your hair. “could be, who knows.” he spoke, vague but obvious. “so what’s up?” he asked, his excitement settling. “well I’m at a party and someone spilled their drink all over me and I’m just kind of bummed out, bored sitting in my friend's room.” you caught him up on the events that just transpired. “that blows.” he laughed. “are you laughing at me?” you jokingly scolded. “what?! no, I could never!” he defended himself as you began laughing along with him. “anyway I kinda don’t want to go home..” you dragged, hoping he would get the hint and come pick you up.

you were now picturing Clyde whisking you away and you giggled to yourself. “oh? little Miss Troubled Home wants me to save her again?” he joked and you let out the loudest laugh you ever have before. “unfortunately yeah.” you ran your hands through your hair. “okay I’ll be there as soon as I can.” he giggled and you both hung up.

and so you sat and waited, excited to see Clyde again. Myra walked in with another drink, stumbling through the door. “I think it might be time for you to lay off the alcohol.” you laughed as she sat down next to you. “yeah this is my last one and I’m going straight to bed.” she giggled, slurring her words. “listen, Clyde is picking me up. I’m gonna go to his house.” you informed the inebriated girl now sprawled across her bedroom floor. “mhm yeah use protection, my love.” she joked. you sighed and walked out to her front lawn to smoke a cigarette while you waited for Clyde to arrive.

"you smell like pink Whitney." Clyde laughed as you climbed into his car. "I tried rinsing off as much as I could." you whined, fastening your seatbelt. "you didn't rinse very well, smells like you bathed in it." he smiled, driving off. "fuck off." you joked.

“I um.. a few of my friends are back at my apartment.” he said, almost hesitantly. “oh I'm meeting your friends already?” you giggled, wondering why he had to tell you as if to warn you. “yeah it’s just that they’re a little intense.. like I can be too but just in case you’re not prepared for it uh they have like no filter.” he rambled. “Clyde it’s not a problem. I’m just your friend meeting your other friends right?” you giggled, still hoping he’d say otherwise. “okay, okay yeah. but you know, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” he smiled.

“I told my friend Myra about you.” you smiled. “oh? what she say? what did you tell her?” he asked. “I mean I told her how we met and about the movie theatre… all that.” you listed off. “so you had fun?” he asked, hopeful. “of course I did,” you whispered, looking over at him. you shared a smile, a warmth growing in his stomach. you had no idea but Clyde had butterflies.

“so tell me about the friends?” you begged as you motioned for Clyde to watch the road. he went on to tell you exactly what you asked for and it excited you, a smile tugging at your lips. you were thrilled to meet his friends, knowing you’d love them.

the both of you got out of the van and walked up to Clyde’s apartment. the smell of weed masked with cologne smuggled its way into your nose as the front door waved open.

“oh my god is this her?” A pretty, bleached blond exclaimed as she handed a joint over to who looked exactly like Johnny from the way Clyde described. “the one and only!” you joked. “please don’t embarrass me,” Clyde begged as he closed the door behind him. “Clyde talks about you all the time. thought you were ghosting him before you called earlier.” snow spoke, bubbly as she put the roach out, coughing as she exhaled. “oh so he missed me.” you said as you turned to look at Clyde whose face was flushed in pure embarrassment. he rolled his eyes and walked over to his room.

you followed Clyde into his room and closed the door. “I’m so gonna love them.” you cheered quietly and reached for the hem of your shirt to take it off. “Woah woah hold on let me get out.” Clyde tried to stop you, earning a face of confusion. “Clyde... please just give me some clothes, i stink like Heineken.” you joked as you continued to pull your shirt off. clyde swallowed hard, flustered as ever and tossed you a shirt. “oh here, a pair of jeans. I think you could pull these off.” he smiled. clyde was not being serious, he definitely thought he was making a clever joke when he gave you his jeans.

“wow my ass looks amazing in these.” you gushed as you looked back at yourself through Clyde’s mirror. “you are not wrong,” Clyde spoke thinking out loud. you laughed at him as you tied the shirt around your waist and tightened the belt on Clyde’s jeans.

the both of you walked out of his room, Clyde’s eyes never leaving your ass. “Fancy a smoke?” Johnny asked, his voice groggy as yours in the morning. clyde sat down next to Johnny. “not tonight. not that kind of smoke anyway.” you smiled as you followed suit and sat next to the quiet girl. “oh don’t tell me you don’t smoke weed?” he asked, defeat fighting its way out. “I mean I have but it’s not really my thing.” you were definitely lying. you just happened to admit private thoughts when you’re stoned. “I stick to nicotine.” you waved around your pack. "lame!" Johnny groaned out causing you all to laugh. "I'll smoke with you eventually." you smiled. "that'll do." Johnny nodded.

the five of you began your small talk before you dove into substantial conversation, cracking jokes here and there, vaguely teasing Clyde and enjoying yourself completely. “where were you tonight? we heard your call with Clyde earlier.” snow asked, making you blush, knowing they'd tease you.

soon snow and Lola fell asleep and only you and the boys stayed awake, unable to fall asleep on the uncomfortable mattress in the middle of Clyde's living room... “I’m gonna head to bed.” Johnny picking up on the tension between you and Clyde treaded into his room. “they were great. not a moment of awkward silence.” you smiled as you giggled at Johnny's exit. “I’m glad you both liked each other.” he smiled.

“I’m so beat.” you yawned, undoing your belt and slumping over on Clyde’s shoulder. “sleep then?” he asked, looking down at you. you nodded and both retreated into his room. "it's okay that I do this right? it's okay that I come over when I don't want to be home?" you asked, a sudden feeling of being a burden creeping up on you. "if it wasn't okay I would have told you I was busy tonight or something... or I don't know, I wouldn't have offered you clothes." he giggled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder for a side hug.

you and Clyde both changed into sweats and crawled into his bed. "you are too by the way." Clyde spoke, lying adjacent to you. "huh?" you muttered. "you're pretty too." he smiled.

“how was that party?” he asked you. “I was really excited to go, i wanted to occupy myself but, I don’t know, I don’t think I was really in the mood for a party.” you admit to him. “that’s okay you can always call me when you’re in a jam.” he smiled, speaking softly. you held his hand. "Could have been worse, could have been puke instead of pink Whitney." he giggled.

“I think I’m due for an existential panic.” you giggled as your eyes watered. “what do you mean what’s wrong?!” he subconsciously rubbed his thumb over your hand with concern,

“I’m 18 and I have no idea what I want to do with my life.” you continued giggling as your tears rolled down your face. “I just... I think the party reminded me of that. Myra likes staying back and throwing parties and, you know, living her life that way but I don’t have my thing. that’s her thing, parties, edge… she’ll be happy to live in a studio and throw her parties out of her own home while working at a magazine.” you spoke, wiping the tears from your puffy face. “you know it’s okay to feel lost sometimes. everyone moves at their own pace. you can travel or start your own business or something.” he laughed, pulling you closer and pressing your head into his chest. “I guess but I just like knowing. I like being sure of myself.” your breath slowing down. “sometimes you can’t know.”

Meet Cute Masterlist

[kylosjuul]

Kylo Ren NSFW Alphabet (reupload)

a/n: i posted this last year and here it is again! if ur expecting kylo to be a dom don’t read this. Also, this is AFAB!reader.

——

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kylo has never had anybody to cherish like this, to hold. So you best believe after sex, he’s planting soft kisses across your face and lips trying to show how lucky he feels to have you; that you gave this gift of intimacy to him. It’s all soft touches and cuddles (fight me on this). He looks at you with a sense of longing, to have this feeling forever. He’ll hold your hand over his heart while you fall asleep on his chest, for it only beats for you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Everything about your body has Kylo red in the face, but he finds his eyes trailing to your thighs and your ass often. Your uniform clings to them tightly, and he feels guilty about how quick his blood pools to his thighs, constantly readjusting his leather pants when you bend down or “accidentally” brush against him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Okay, listen. Kylo has never had any sexual experience so you BEST believe he cums a lot. And hard. Borderline hyperspermia. He’s just so sensitive and you just feel too good wrapped around him. Expect rope after rope of thick cum coating your walls, spilling out of you and down your thighs :D

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You make him hard. A lot. He feels so perverted, especially in the beginnings of your relationship. The soft floral notes of your perfume made his pants constrict, the sweet smell making him dizzy. Every kiss, every brush of your fingers=boner. He was embarrassed. The worst part is the wet dreams. Oh. The dreams. Kylo’s mind would drift to images of you kissing him, sitting on top of him, the warmth between your legs remedying the pressure building in his hips; but he would wake up every time, hard as a rock, spilling into his sleep pants panting your name. Yeah.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Absolute virg. Never even kissed a girl before. The first time you climbed on top of him and started trailing kisses down his neck, he was 100% whipped, almost finishing in his uniform as you rocked against his length. He knew he couldn’t give this up, couldn’t give YOU up.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

A bit simple, but this man lovesss missionary. He gets off when your face twists up in pleasure, knowing he’s the one providing it to you. Plus, he can hear each moan, each sharp intake of breath; Between your face drenched in lust, your sweet sounds, and your tits bouncing with each thrust, this position makes him cum the hardest. (Besides you on top. He’ll dig his fingers into your hips watching himself disappear inside you over and over. yum).

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I’d say Kylo is serious during the deed. He just loves you so much and wants to worship you with every bit of intimacy he has in him. Large calloused palms smoothing back your hair, plush lips sucking on your collarbone, all of it.

“You’re so beautiful. My sweet girl…”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He isn’t the hairiest man in the galaxy, but he does have a bit of hair down south. Nothing too extreme though. Kylo is very hygienic and well groomed, nothing to worry about here!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

THE MOST INTIMATE. You can see in his eyes how he feels he doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve your soft body beneath him. He treats you as if you’ll break, as if you’re the most precious being in the universe. Constantly asking if you’re okay, or, “Does this feel good?” He loves to serve you. To pleasure you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As aforementioned, Kylo can’t help how hard he is around you 24/7. If he knows he’s going to see you, he’ll tuck himself away into his refresher and think of your figure, your eyes looking up at him, (that REALLY makes him cum fast) and stroke his cock with a punishing pace, imagining you slamming down on his hips. He feels a tinge of shame as he grits his teeth and releases his load onto the refresher door.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise. He feels his thighs go weak when you drag your fingers through his hair and call him a “good boy.” He’ll look up at you through heavy lids, a silent plea for more soft touches and appraisals. Also, eye contact. If you ever want anything from him, just look up at his through your eyelashes and he’ll blush like a madman, giving you whatever it is you crave.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a very private person and extremely jealous, so he prefers to fuck you in your shared quarters. Nowhere else. Okay, maybe in his TIE, but that’s only when you beg him so sweetly; and who is he not to give his girl whatever she wants?

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Yes. Just yes. A kiss that lingers a second too long, his name on your lips (in any context), your soft hand following the curve of his jaw. He’s a goner. If you want to torture the man, wear a low cut top around him, he’ll be desperately grabbing at your hips in no time.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything involving someone else. He’s a jealous, jealous man. All these fics about him sharing you with the KOR….girl. A big no no is anything related to degradation. Attention all Kylo writers! He would never even DREAM of calling you names or hurting you in any way. You’re his precious girl and he just loves you so so much:(

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Virgin, remember? The first time you sucked his cock, he’s was a panting mess, brows furrowed, low moans punched from his chest, finishing in your mouth in under a minute. After a few times together, you guided him on how to eat pussy, and he definitely prefers watching your hips rock up into his face, coming undone from his warm tongue. (Kylo will never admit this, but while he was eating you out he rocked against the mattress like a rabid dog, cumming all over his stomach, a pool of his spend spreading over the sheets. Yeah, he prefers giving).

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on how much time you’ve spent apart. If he hasn’t seen you for a week, (missions, supreme leader shit) he’ll fuck into you with a strong and punishing pace, still careful not to hurt you, though. If it’s a normal day, he’ll slowly rock into you, dragging his cock along your walls in a sensual way, but you usually beg him to speed up, pushing you further and further up the mattress.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kylo is a simp. He will take whatever you so kindly gift him with. You get to fuck your man whenever you so please. He gives it to you no matter the time. Day or night. He’s just so excited there’s a GIRL who wants him, his cock, this badly.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Nah. Not really. He’d rather savor the sex, instead of constantly looking over his shoulder. But if you drag him into a storage closet aboard and start massaging him through his leather, who is he to say no?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Hate to burst any bubbles here, but he’s completely inexperienced, so don’t expect him to last very long, at least not at first. He physically has to tense his muscles, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, trying so hard NOT to blow his load the second your tight wet heat engulfs his cock. His skin is flaming hot, but he’s shivering above you, groans emanating from his slacked jaw, trying to fight the way his balls draw up, the way his stomach muscles tighten already.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Are sex toys canon in Star Wars? Someone please lmk. But my answer is going to be no for now!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Kylo doesn’t have to tease you, like, at all. You just want him so bad all the time and he still doesn’t understand why. However. You’re quite the tease, and this poor virgin can’t take it. Seriously, if you want to see the mighty Kylo Ren crumble, all you need to do is press a chaste kiss to his lips, put a hand on his thigh, look at him, or just breathe basically, and he’ll be hard and wanting in seconds. I love our space boyfriend.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ben Swolo can make some NOISE lemme tell ya. It’s all low groans and grunts, so caught up in the heat of your body and how fucking tight you are around him. No matter how hard he tries to contain the noises that slip from his throat, he can’t help it. He’ll confidently moan and moan in your ear, minted breath hitting your cheek, letting you know his pleasure is solely from you, and you alone.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Kylo is what we call a service top. He would do anything to put your pleasure first, his own pleasure depends on that. He had never cum harder than that first time you clamped around his cock, finally feeling your orgasm around him. Lights flickered and whirred; it was…intense.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Hung like a moose omg who said that? Anyways. My guess is 7-8 inches. Good luck girl.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Siri play ‘Everyday’ by Ariana Grande please. Seriously. He feels fucking insane with how bad he wants to be buried in you at all times. Whether he’s tired, beaten or bruised, you could catch a dick anytime.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kylo will eventually fall asleep cuddled up next to you, but not until he allots himself a few minutes to admire your beauty, running his thick fingers through your hair, kissing your temple until he sees you eyes flutter shut. Awe. Whatta softie.

[hunnysnoops]

˗ˋ𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤ˊ˗

Chapter Three: Contagious

Kyle Broflovski x fem reader

I picture you in a bad dream, coughing up your guts. It’s funnier in theory but I’ve pictured it too much. You’re saying what you had to say and staring at my mouth.

Premise: What could make an unbearable field trip with an unbearable man any worse? Don’t worry, you’ll find out.

Warnings: crude language+humour / vomit / unconsciousness

MASTERLIST

You found it increasingly difficult to fight the urge to smash the bus window and drag yourself through broken glass just to hit the pavement with a sickening crack of bones. Easy to say you weren't thrilled about the field trip waiting for you.

The fish filet sandwich you had choked back at the rest stop was already disagreeing with you and you were sure it wouldn't be the only thing troubling you on this day. The driver hits a speed bump, hitting you extra hard in your seat at the back, you feel bile rising up your throat and slap a hand over your mouth. "You okay?" Wendy asks, her voice soft.

You nod, giving a thumbs up with your free hand. When the feeling dissipates, you dig into your backpack for your water and start to chug it until the lingering taste of bile alleviates entirely. "Next time please tell me not to eat gas station fish."

"I told you not to this time," Wendy tells you. The forty-minute bus ride was just about over, you would've been savouring the one-on-one time you got sitting next to Wendy if food poisoning wasn't setting in and sending ripples through your stomach.

"I can't be the only one who ate the fish filet," Arms crossed over your stomach to try and smother out the growing pain you swivel your head to look around the bus where everyone else seemed to be chatting happily or ignoring the world with their headphones in. The walls of the bus are panelled with aged, weathered metal, showcasing patches of chipped paint and faded colours that hint at its former glory. Scuffs and scratches tell stories of bustling school days and the trips long passed upon within these walls, an occasional doodle of graffiti where the faculty had turned a blind eye.

Wendy takes a glance around well, "No, I'm pretty sure you were," The back of the teal seat in front of you was littered with smiley burns from cigarette lighters that degenerate kids had soiled the leather with. "I think it's like the number one rule of gas stations not to eat fish there."

You groan and tilt your head up to look at the rusted ceiling, with each passing second regrets gather in your mind like a high school reunion. This biology trip had slipped from your head completely, it was meant for the class to gather independent research on the local ecosystem by sending teenagers into the woods and expecting them all to turn up at the time they were supposed to when they were done. You were anticipating a few pairs of kids to roll back up to the meeting point at least half an hour past the allotted time.

In your mind, there wasn't anything good about this trip. The information sheets Mr. Waterman had given you explained that you were meant to be using the buddy system with your lab partner, who happened to be Kyle, someone you were definitely not buddies with. You didn't even get to leave any other classes early, you left ten minutes after your last class began which was biology and you were going to be gone for two hours plus the ride there and back. All you needed to gather information on the local ecosystem was ten minutes and a cell phone instead you were missing soccer practice to poke around in the woods.

Kyle wasn't thrilled about this either. He was one of the handful of students who shoved his headphones in and turned the volume up so loud that he couldn't hear anything or anyone besides The Cure. He had unfortunately been stuck next to Cartman who was currently spouting slightly prejudiced remarks towards David that went unheard by Mr. Waterman at the front of the bus.

The bus came to an abrupt stop in a parking lot surrounded by forest. Before the doors even opened you had grabbed your backpack and run to the front, banging on the door to be let out. When you finally set foot into fresh air you were almost brought to your knees almost choking on the clean air. That was what was nice about South Park, the air wasn't dirty and stagnant like the city, it was ever-moving and ever-changing.

One more minute in that bus and you would've thrown up, the combination of, axe spray, perfume, body odour, and teenage angst almost fogged up the windows. The class piled out of the bus, adjusting their eyes to the bright sun that would fade in a few hours. You made note of the outhouse tucked into the corner of the lot, being sure that you would need it later to spill your guts before you get back on the bus.

Mr Waterman wastes no time in hopping off the bus and prepping himself to preach the criteria once again. With the signature clap of his hands, he begins "Okay, I know it's a very exciting day but let's try to hold it in for a moment," There was not one person in that crowd who was excited "I expect you to stay in your assigned groups and to return by four, that is in," He looks down at his watch "An hour and a half, so gather as much information as possible, make sure that you record it, I want to see field observations, species identification, sampling, each group gets one quadrat to use so be careful with it."

Your assigned group begins to awkwardly flock together, no one looks particularly happy. The group was made up of you, Kyle, Cartman, David, Cylde, and Tweek, any bright side may have been overshadowed by the fact that you could tolerate one and a half people in this group. David was usually chill while Clyde was 50/50, depending on the day he might make you want to charge for his throat with unbridled rage and open palms to wrap your fingers around his neck until his eyes roll back in his head.

"Okay, looks like everyone's getting their things in order," Mr Waterman said "Now, please don't stray too far off the trails, it should always be in sight. Remember, you will be back to working one-on-one with your lab partner tomorrow." He looks around for a signifier that his class is listening, the majority seemed spaced out or were divulged entirely in conversation. "Any questions?" Nobody said a word. "If any group cares to join me, I will be walking to the river!"

"So-uh, should we go to the river?" Cylde broke the sickening silence between the six of you.

"No," You snatched the quadrat out of his hands and began heading for one of the trails. The group trailed behind you, Cartman uttering complaints as expected.

"Junkie's leading us to her heroin den." He says, obnoxiously loud to Cylde. You almost wanted to swing around and hit him over the head with the grid in your hand.

"Do you even know what we're supposed to be doing?" It was like David read your mind and asked Cartman for you.

"Look at animals and shit, I'm not stupid."

"Had me fooled," You mutter under your breath and delve even further into the thicket. The ancient trunks were adorned with a tapestry of mosses, lichens, and ferns. Shafts of sunlight pierce through the canopy of leaves above your head, illuminating patches of moss and casting dappled shadows to dance across the muddy forest floor.

"Where are we going?" Tweek speaks up, his right eye twitches and his fingers tap against one another. He's shaking as he walks. You wondered how he was able to function day to day with nothing more than caffeine in his veins.

"Into the woods, bro," Cylde walks up next to him, shoving his hands into his pockets. You had been praying that Cylde wouldn't be in your group but whatever gods rest above seem to hate you. He and Bebe had made it official which you had to hear through Nichole since you and Bebe still weren't on speaking terms after the night of the clamp.

This was the point where you tuned yourself out of the conversation to actually get some work done, it seemed like Kyle had been doing the same. With keen eyes and attentive ears, you observed the bustling activity of birds flitting among the branches, the scurrying of small mammals in the underbrush, and the rhythmic chirping of crickets in the distance.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, ignoring the low battery warning that seemed all too common in recent days and began to flood your camera roll with pictures of birds and little bugs you would find underneath rocks.

Only part of the group was doing something, that part being you, Kyle, Tweek, and David, while the other two buffered around you. Cartman wanted no part in any of the work while Cylde just seemed unsure of what to do so he would just touch things and make a vague comment about it. He crouched down, running his hand over a rock and then looking at his palm "Yeah, that-uh, seems pretty old, maybe like twelve years old."

"We aren't carbon dating rocks," David said as he added to the list of litter in his notebook to mark human impact in the forest.

"Oh, cool," Cylde nodded.

From what you could see, you had the only group on your current trail and the deeper into the forest you moved, the darker it got, trees growing denser and thicker overhead to block out sunlight. The shade was a nice relief, it made you feel a little less nauseous though sickness was still tearing at your insides. You were doing everything in your power to stay on track, figuring it better to focus heavily on the work aspect as opposed to paying attention to your gnarly stomach.

By the time you were out there for an hour, it felt like a decade in your mind, you couldn't stay trained on the research, instead, you passed the metal quadrant off to David and drank the rest of your water while clutching your stomach.

"So how does the square work?" Cylde peered thoughtfully over where David and Tweek were kneeling on the ground. The boys looked back up at him, David had tossed the gridded frame over a random patch of grass to take a survey of the plants.

"We learned about this last class," David answered, unamused.

"Interesting," Cylde rubs his jaw with his hand, furrowing his eyebrows like he's deep in thought.

"I feel like we should all pitch in equally if we're going to be working off the same data," Kyle glares at Cartman who leaned against a tree, playing Subway Surfers on his phone.

"I agree, diabetes boy, so get to work," He answers pausing his game for a moment to look up.

"You're one junior bacon cheeseburger away from diabetes yourself and all you've been doing is scrolling on your phone while everyone else does the work fatass," Kyle retorts, you had suspected he would come to a breaking point at some time today with Cartman.

"Uh, what about Junkie?" He draws the attention to you where you stand, taking slow and laboured breaths in and out, in an attempt to keep the fish filet sandwich inside of you. "I'm pretty sure she's overdosing."

"Can you stop calling her that?" Kyle asks, much to your surprise though you had your priority set on other things.

"Oh?" Cartman's eyebrows raise, that's how you can tell that you piqued his interest. Cartman turns his phone off and tucks it back into his pocket, crossing his arms and staring at Kyle "You're defending her now? Are you guys going to go home together to pop opiates and drown yourselves in a bathtub?"

"No," Kyles's nose wrinkles in distaste "It's just annoying."

"Oh, Jesus man! don't fight!" Tweek looks ready to rip his hair out, and David casts him a side-eye. It was moments like this where you think it would've been more rightful if Tweek was the one who had the nicknames on Junkie and Crash which you considered a cross you had to bear.

"We need to head back soon so can we *hic*  please just finish this?" You chime in, voice breaking with hiccups as you speak. The sound of their simmering argument was grating in your head like someone had stuck a fork into a blender.

"Crash, get your nose out of the snow and get back to work unless your brain is too fried from the black tar."

You had taken a complete 180 from trying to leave with as little conflict as possible to be more riled up than Kyle. "Shut the fuck up, Cartman."

His eyes carry the oh-so-familiar hint of challenge that you were so used to seeing "What are you gonna do? Have a seizure on me?"

"No, I'll kick your fucking ass." You take a step towards him pushing back your sickness the best you could. Cartman wasn't the tallest nor was he very agile, you were sure that you could take him even if it might prove to be a bit strenuous.

"Woah," He inches back as you move forward "Back up a little there," Cartman laughs nervously, landing around at someone to intervene. Had it been someone else Kyle probably wouldn't gotten between you two, but having it be you and Cartman, the other four watched with imploring eyes.

Things might have played out differently if it weren't for the growling in your stomach, the dry heat, the lack of nicotine you were fiending over, and the past four years you had silently endured Cartman making fun of you for an exaggeration of your smoking issue. "Be quiet or I'm going to knock you upside your fucking head."

You stood a foot away from him, moments passed where he played out every scenario in his head until he finally settled on a response. "Okay, man, we're cool," He raised his hands up in surrender. Just seconds after you had turned your back you heard Cartman speak up "Don't want you to hulk out on me when you're on the Roids."

Out of raw instinct, you turn on your heels and bring your right fist to connect with Cartman's cheekbone. Everyone stares at you in utter shock. Cartman himself looked as if he could never have seen this coming like it was preposterous that he had pushed you to the point where you swung at him.

Tweeks eyes grow so wide you think they might pop out of his head "Ah! I can't take this!"

"What the fuck?" Cartman reaches his hand to touch the area where your knuckles had cracked against his face. "She actually fucking hit me," He looks around at the boys with wide shocked eyes until they land on you "You fucking bitch!"

"And I'll do it again you tiny dick licker." Your gaze is unwavering on Cartman though your wild thoughts are jumping around your head like they're freshly off Adderall.

"That's assault, I can sue you for that."

"Go ahead," you point to Kyle "His dad's a lawyer."

"Shit," Cartman mutters "A Jew lawyer."

"What does my dad have to do with this?"

"Everything," he says, a thought hits him "Kyle, I would kindly like you to ask your dad to represent me."

"No."

"Kyle, be cool," Cartman says.

"Shut up porky, don't tell him to be cool, he isn't a part of this."

"Hey! You’re a crackhead bitch with a drug addiction!" He speaks with so much haste that spit comes flying from his mouth like an alpaca.

"You're yelling? I can yell too!" The pair of you are being so loud that a handful of birds fly away from a tree overhead "You look like you snuck onto earth!" You weren't being attentive to the boy's reactions around you, your mind was stuck between bashing Cartman's teeth into a tree or running back to the parking lot and getting some Zyn off Marshall.

"Okay, that's it," Cartman says, he raises his fists and narrows his eyes "We're having it out right now."

"You just had it out," David is packing everything up, he looks beyond done with this as much as he liked watching Cartman get decked.

"Nuh-uh, she caught me off guard," Cartman shakes his head "Junkie is gonna rue this day, her white blood cells are gonna have to put in more work than on shoot-up Saturdays!"

"You're a lard ass piece of shit and that's why your dad died!"

Cylde sucked a sharp breath through his teeth and the group fell completely silent. The only sound was animals rustling around and the slight breeze cutting its way through the trees to shake their leaves. Even Kyle looked shocked, his eyebrows raised and green eyes wide.

"Okay, too far." Cartman drops his hands to his side.

"Yeah, man, you can't say that," Cylde says from behind Kyle.

You toss your hands up in exasperation, nothing left to say after you had bitched Cartman out and in doing so made it look like you're drifting off the rails. Sticking your middle finger out at Cartman, you turned around and began walking back down the trail, ignoring the flush of embarrassment rising to your cheeks.

You wanted desperately to act like that little spat hadn't made you feel like a spectacle that would catch through students' breaths the next day like folklore. Surely the event would be spun, twisted, and contorted into an exaggeration of the single punch that was thrown.

The boys walked behind you, keeping their distance. Though none of them were directly speaking to you, you were able to make a comment here and there. They weren't speaking about you but you could feel eyes digging down into you like they were prying your flesh open and examining your carcass for any more anomalies that they could tell their friends about later that night.

Over and over again, you looked down at your phone, staring at the time like doing so would make it move faster until your phone froze and died completely. Even when the screen was stuck pitch black, you pretended to scroll on it like you were busy.

Back in middle school, there were those kids whose faces would turn red with anger. They'd flip over desks and scream at the underpaid teachers until their throats itched like sandpaper rubbing on concrete; you remembered how everyone else regarded them after this. They kept their distance and didn't dare utter a word for fear they would be snapped like the teacher's red correction pen. You thought maybe this is how they felt, ashamed of their actions and holding back tears while they bite a quivering lip, facing the tears of humiliation from their brief moments of violence.

It didn't feel too bad but it didn't feel too good either.

Sure you tended to be more on the hot-heated side of things but you couldn't remember the last time you actually hit someone. It didn't matter that it was Cartman, it still made you want to jump into the shower and scrub your skin until it became irritated.

A growl rips through your stomach, loud enough for you to hear but not so much that the boys notice. It felt like your body was breaking up with you. Ripples of pain slice through your stomach and nausea crawls its way up to your throat.

You glance back to the boys behind you who chat amongst themselves, seemingly they've lost interest in you. You had no desire to heave your entire body weight out in front of them so you take a B-line and slip off the trail.

"Hey," Cylde calls after you, watching as you venture into the woods. "Guys she's leaving." He tells the others. You wanted to run back and punch him in the gut before jetting off to empty your guts onto the forest floor.

After the attention is drawn back to you, you pick up your pace "Fuck off, I'm sick," you call back to the group, now jogging to avoid what you had imagined to be more embarrassment than what you had already set for yourself. Surely you would never mentally recover after punching Cartman and then throwing up in front of five guys on a biology field trip. If you were going to spew, it would not be in front of him.

"Where are you going?" Kyle turns his body to watch you as you slink off deep into the forest, one hand covering your mouth while another clutches the fabric over your stomach. "Someone should go with her," he glances around the group for a voludnteer though everyone just looks at each other, waiting for someone to speak up.

You don't respond, you just race further in the thicket until you're out of sight entirely but your feet don't stop, they keep carrying you.

He looks back to the trail and then to where you were before your figure disappeared behind trees, his mind races with thoughts of Mr. Waterman talking about the buddy system. "Fuck," He mutters to himself before abandoning the well-worn trail and chasing after you.

"Jew, why are you going after her? she's probably going to her meth stash!" Cartman called after Kyle to no response. "Oh my god, she's going to kill him for drug money."

"Go *hic* away!" You yell between gags. Out of anyone in that group, you weren't sure if Kyle was the best or worst to see you like this. As he gains on you, you speed up, trying to get him off your trail.

"Can you stop?" He calls after you as you maneuver your way between thick tree stumps, gliding smoothly over the imperfection embedded in the dirt. Kyle didn't want to fathom what would happen if something happened to you in the forest and his mother found out he was supposed to stick to your side. "C'mon, don't be stupid."

Kyle seemed relentless in catching up to you. Everywhere he turned his head, it looked the exact same like someone had copied and pasted an abundance of trees all around him. He wasn't the biggest wilderness guy, he had been in scouts as a boy but the most he usually delved into nature was the occasional weekend camping trip with his family which was a novelty itself.

The queasiness continued to chew at your insides, growing more intense by the minute. Unable to hold back any longer, you doubled over, you fell to your knees, one hand supporting you on a tree so you don't fall over, retching violently as your body expelled its contents. "Uh, do you want me to hold your hair?

"Ew, fuck off!" Kyle watched helplessly, fighting the urge to vomit himself as his face contorted. You notice his presence behind you, glancing back to be sure, you yell out between gags "Turn around!" Before more warm and chunky spittle spills out of your mouth.

"Okay," He raises his hands in defence before swiftly turning around, internally cringing at the sound of your heaving. Just when he thinks it's over you start back up again. He hadn't entirely believed you when you said you were sick, he rationalized that you just wanted to get away from the group.

He did his best to ignore the sound, instead, he focused on the moss clinging onto bark or the tweet of birds hanging onto branches and singing songs to one another. The way you could hardly see the sky with how dense the trees were, just beams of sunlight slipping through. Kyle swivelled his head and that was the moment he had no idea where you were, surely not too far from the trail.

"I'm done," You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Kyle turns around and sees you on your knees, eyes drowsy and face devoid of its usual colour. You swish saliva around in your mouth before spitting on the ground and wobbling up to your feet like a colt. Digging around in your bag you pull out a warm half-drunk Powerade, you were out of the water and would rather throw up again than ask Kyle for some of his. Now your mouth tasted like acid reflux and green apple electrolytes.

"You're going the wrong way," He says bluntly.

"Uh, no," You point past him "We ran from there to here so we just go back, dumbass." Figuring Kyle had followed you for some chivalrous reason that his mother instilled in his brain, you didn't feel like pressing it. Still, you tried to keep communication with him to a minimum.

"You threw up on the far side of the tree, we need to go that way," He points behind you.

You had figured he was right, you were too busy trying to get away from him that you weren't being too attentive to where your tired feet were rushing you too "Sure."

"Sure?" He furrows his eyebrows "What do you mean sure?"

"I mean sure."

"Yeah, but you said it like you were doubting me."

"I'm not," You shrug, beginning to walk in the direction he gestured towards.

"You just did it again," He says "I'm right," Kyle insinuates "I know where we're supposed to be going."

"Okay, cool, fine, sure, yeah, you're right," You turn around and toss your hands up "Were you also rendered paralyzed or can you walk instead of staring at me like you're brain dead?"

He sticks up his bony middle finger but follows you nonetheless. The two of you keep your distance, being sure to stay a metre apart minimum while you hunt for a way out of the thicket. Your eyes drift to Kyle who is trying to get service on his phone, he intended to text Cylde that you two might take a while though he was met with four flat bars and a red 'not delivered' beneath each message he sent.

You didn't bother, your phone was long dead and cold in your backpack, what you were more worried about was finding something to keep you calm before this inevitably escalated. After your gym teacher caught a glimpse of your Marbolos and gotten you an in school suspension, you decided it was best to leave cigarettes in your car and the bottom of your closet. With each passing second. you were wishing that you kept an emergency cigarette or two tucked safely into a ziplock baggie at the bottom of your backpack. 

Gnarled branches reached skyward in a tangled embrace, blocking out the fading light of day as the sunlight was being swallowed up by grey clouds leaving everything to look dull. The undergrowth grew denser, forming a tangled maze of ferns, brambles, and fallen branches that blocked your path at every turn.

It had taken you seven minutes to come up with a consensus "We're lost,"

"No, we're not." He says, trudging forward "If we keep walking we'll find a trail or something, they're everywhere."

"It took two minutes till I got to the tree and I puked, we've been walking for ages."

"It hasn't even been ten minutes."

"Okay? You smell like pistachios and we're going the wrong way," You tell him, stopping abruptly under the shade of a tree. You say, taking another dreadful sip of the Powerade, trying not to wince at the penicillin taste that the stagnant drink left in your mouth.

"I don't smell like pistachios," He says blankly.

"How would you know?" You rest one hand on your hip, the other hanging at your side and clutching what was almost an empty bottle of electrolytes.

Kyle's expression morphs into a portrait of confusion, etched with furrowed brows and a perplexed frown, lips slightly ajar. His green eyes, usually clear and focused, now stared at you in disbelief, searching for some type of reasoning behind your question. "What do you mean 'How would I know'?" He asks "You think I've never eaten a fucking pistachio?"

You answer him with a shrug, face unreadable "I always thought they were too exotic for you."

"They're nuts." Kyle says "They don't have a smell."

"You know this because you've eaten nuts?"

"Yes." His voice is tinged with confusion.

"Then why would they make pistachio notes to put in perfume?"

"Because people are fucking idiots who just want to sell stuff."

"Do you eat a lot of nuts?"

"I guess?"

"I bet you do," you snigger.

Realization strikes Kyle and he runs a hand through his curly red locs to soothe his fast-growing frustration, "Wow, super mature joking about nuts."

"Don't talk about being mature when you just spent a minute of your life arguing with me about nuts." You point out "Do you maybe want to be mature and admit that we're lost?"

"We're not, we just need to go this way," Kyle turns and begins in a new direction completely. You glance around at the the long trunks, each looking the same as the next before you follow Kyle in tow.

The further you walked the heavier the sense of uncertainty began to hang over you. Your irrational thoughts began to creep up, maybe there was a knife-wielding maniac who would kill the pair of you for intruding in his forest.

You forge ahead, footsteps echoing softly against the forest floor as you navigate the labyrinth of twisting trails and hidden clearings. Kyle's eyes were narrowed, you could almost see the the gears turning in his head as he tried to retrace your steps or at least find a clearing out of the forest.

While he was hyper-focused on the task at hand, your mind was making up the worst possible scenarios, it forced you to bring a hand to your mouth and chew at your nails. When Kyle caught wind of this, he did a double-take, wrinkling his nose in distaste "When did you start biting your nails?"

"I'm not biting my nails, I'm sucking nicotine traces out of my fingertips," you answer before going back in, tenfold, almost mauling your hands, seeking the sweet release of dopamine that you had grown accustomed to.

"That's disgusting," Kyle turns his attention back ahead of him like he needs to stay alert "You do have an addiction, that's why Cartman gives you shit."

"You call it an addiction, I call it tradition, I rather smoke a cig than puff on a fucking light sabre handle," You thought of Marshall the night of the junior bonfire, how he had but three vapes in his mouth at one. Everyone was hyping him up but you couldn't shake the idea that he looked like he was blowing the sonic screwdriver.

"Still an addiction," He answers. The two of you fall silent until you go back to gnawing at your nails, "Okay, stop."

"Sorry, I'm fucking nervous that we're stranded out in the woods horror movie style and there's probably perverts roaming in here and waiting for me," You say, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

"We're not Hanzel and Gretel, pretty sure we don't have to worry about getting kidnapped on a biology trip."

"Yeah well, you wouldn't have to worry about getting kidnapped, look at the state of you." Your eyes rake up and down his body, a slight scowl on your face as you do so, feigning disgust at his appearance.

A flush creeps its way up Kyle's face he quickly averts his gaze so you can't see the red of his cheeks "Not sure if you realize but you're not hot shit yourself."

"Yeah, okay," You mutter, dodging the fact that every talking stage you've had for the past year has failed immensely. To your credit it wasn't because you were a repulsive person, it was because nothing felt right with any of them and you knew it was best to quit while you were ahead. It was like eating something sweet when you've been craving something spicy.

The forest seemed to conspire against you, its dense foliage and winding paths leading you deeper into the heart of the forest or just chasing you unknowingly in circles.

In the eery stillness of the woods, you suddenly became hyper-aware of all of Kyle's actions, his breathing, footsteps, and sighs, like you could sense the frustration growing in him the further you walked and got nowhere.

"Okay, we're lost." He finally admits, his voice exasperated.

You disregard what he said "Why did you run after me?" You look at him, asking the question that had been nagging at you like a child prodding for candy "Like, that's super weird."

"Not really, it's the buddy system." He shrugs you off, going back to the initial topic "We need to focus on getting out of here."

"Buddy system?" You raise an eyebrow "That's the gayest shit I've ever witnessed."

"You were at the women's national rugby championship."

Knowing that he had got you in a corner you opt to change the topic once again "How are we supposed to focus on getting out of here?" You ask "It's not like a high-security vault, it's a forest, all we can do is walk unless you can call for the cavalry."

"I don't have service," He answers.

"Don't you have an SOS network for emergencies?"

"This is not an emergency," He tucks his phone back into his pocket, it was running low on battery as Kenny had borrowed his portable charger and never returned it "I'm not calling 911 unless one of us is dying or we're still out here by night."

"Then I guess we're walking or alternatively we can scream until someone finds us."

"Don't do that-

"Help!" You cup your hands around your mouth, shouting to no one in particular "Kyle's going insane, he's trying to kill me!"

"Oh my god," He pinches his nose bridge "Shut the hell up."

"If you have such an issue with me why don't you flap your big ass dumbo ears and fly away?"

"Fuck you," He retorts. There was the signature bite of his cheek, the telltale sign that you were beginning to creep under his skin.

"Fuck you," You counter, mimicking him before trudging ahead.

"You have some goddamn issues," He mutters under his breath, not caring whether you could hear him or not.

"Yeah, I do have a lot of issues like why are there always crumbs in my bed when I never eat in it?" Absentmindedly, you had raised your voice without even realizing you were doing so. It was a natural progression between you and Kyle, it was the next piece of the formula that always ended in a massive shit show.

Kyle tries to ignore this completely, shutting his mouth and clenching his fist so tightly that he is near breaking the soft skin of his palm. "Why does every conversation end with you screaming?"

"Because you're a fucking asshole." You shoot back, taking hasty steps to side away from him to further yourself even more. As childish as it was, you couldn't be mature around Kyle or in general. You surely annoyed yourself as much as you annoyed others.

"No, not just me, you scream at everyone," He says "Why did you have to lose it at Cartman?"

"No shot you're defending Cartman, did hear the shit he was saying?"

"Yeah, he's a dick but did you need to hit him?"

"He needs to learn somehow," You shrug. "I don't know why you're acting so high and mighty, you hit him."

"Yeah, in ninth grade."

"You're a dick."

"And you're an idiot who ate fish from a gas station and gave herself food poisoning, I heard you bitching to Wendy about it the entire bus ride," Kyle's brow furrowing deeply as a simmering frustration bubbled to the surface. His normally composed demeanour cracked, revealing the raw edges of his discontent that pulsed beneath the surface like molten lava.

"Okay well it looked good and I was hungry don't act like you didn't eat the stray burrito from 7/11 on that road trip in ninth grade, you threw up out the window of my dad's car and it was all down the side and really fucking gross and we had to pull over and clean the car with wet wipes and your clothes were in you parents car with our brothers so you had to wear my Greta Thunberg tee shirt until we got to Montana."

"That wasn't from the burrito, it was because we ran out of Gravol and you know I get car sick."

"Yeah and you know that I get hungry, who cares?" Your voice goes up an octave "Why are you acting like you had a gun to your head and you were forced to track me down?"

His jaw clenched tightly, the muscles working overtime to suppress the torrent of words poised on the tip of his tongue. Everything he wanted to say he swallowed back, never to leave his mouth. Kyle gritted his teeth in a silent display of defiance, you took this as a sign that the argument was coming to a close. "You're so annoying and you wonder why you're lonely."

"I'm not lonely," Your posture was rigid and tense, your voice lingering with desperation. You rather just tie the noose for yourself than admit that you care what he thinks about you.

"Okay." He says, short.

"I'm not," You insinuate trying to plead your hopeless case "There's a difference between being alone and being lonely, I'm happy being alone."

"You're definitely not happy."

"How?" You ask "How would you know that? We talk once a blue moon."

"You never go out, you smoke all the time, you ignore your friends, you hardly talk to your family, you hate every show you watch, you don't even like eating anymore because smoking is ruining your tastebuds-

"At least I have more friends than fingers on one fucking hand."

"At least my friends like me." His lips twitched with agitation.

"My friends like me," You counter his statement. Maybe you should have moved to Los Angeles, the city of liars and frauds, surely you would get along great with coked-up directors who thrive in delusion and believe everything they say is more profound than anything Socrates has ever written.

"From what Bebe was saying, it doesn't sound like it."

"Yeah? Well, Bebe's a fucking cunt," You missed her more than anything but she seemed absolutely fine without you. You kept coming across videos that you wanted to send her or funny things you wanted to tell her until reality popped back up and reminded you that she didn't like you anymore.

"You can't just call people who don't like you cunts,"

"Just did, cunt." You snark "Why do you have a fucking file on me?"

"Weston tells me, I guess you're the family bummer now," He shrugs.

"How?" You have an ajar smile on your face, and wide eyes, trying not to show that something inside of you had, bent, cracked, and then broken entirely "I'm only seventeen." You found it hard to believe that you were the blue in your family tree while you had at least three alcoholic uncles, one of them living off welfare.

"When's the last time you've sat down to eat dinner with the family?"

"What?"

"Your brother told me you always skip dinner with them to eat by yourself," Kyle says. You weren't aware that Weston had been reporting your shortcomings to the ginger

"That's not really your business."

"Kinda is." He moves a tree branch out of the way of his lanky frame "Your parents are worried, they think you're on drugs."

Apparently, he knew more about your family than you did, not that this had particularly surprised you, it just made you feel guilty like an outsider looking in. Though guilt was no purifier, it didn't make your lack of self any less unsettling.

"Okay, I get it, I know I'm shitty but you're no prize either," You say, abruptly. "Let's discuss the global political and economic situation." You mock him, speaking in a deeper voice to mimic the ginger "And the fucking cyber security issues, you're a buzzkill man, no matter where you are or who you're with."

"Those are actually important things," The vein in his forehead was prominent, almost cartoonishly protruding "You have eighty viruses on your laptop from pirating Sims 4 mods. Data brokers are stealing your information, you know that, right?"

"I don't give a shit if they steal my data, there's nothing worthwhile there, it's just pictures of pigeons," You cross your arms as you walk "See, just now, how you shat on me for playing the Sims?"

A deep sigh escaped his lips, a sigh tinged with exasperation as he struggled to compose himself in the face of mounting aggravation. "I'm not shitting on you for playing the Sims, I'm pointing out how you're committing a crime, downloading something without paying for it is a crime, you're a criminal."

"Boo, you're a buzzkill."

"Better than being in denial," He answers. "There's no way that you're a seventeen-year-old chain smoker and you're genuinely happy," Kyle had brought the conversation full circle, pulling back to you.

"Have you walked around this fucking town? There's no one here who's happy either." Whatever you were feeling, it felt shitty like every inch of your bones were covered with dirt and mildew that could never be cleaned.

Your statement had truth beneath it, everyone in South Park carried themselves with a bit of sadness as if they had grown past the stages of ignorance. Though you were unhappy, you were far from the only one and nothing if not desolate.

"Thanks for being a douche, this has been a lot of fun but could you kindly get off my dick now?" You say, jaw tensing as you ignore the aching behind your eyelids.

"I'm not on your-" Kyle's speaking abruptly ceased, his face contorting in discomfort as he clutched his stomach and stopped in his tracks. You stopped as well, watching his face that moments ago was full of irritation morphing into something like fear.

"Uh, you okay?" Your voice was dripping with concern, observing him as he took laboured breaths, a sense of unease washed over you. Your heart raced with alarm as you recognized the telltale signs of a hypoglycemic episode, mind racing through the steps you had been taught to help Kyle in situations like these.

Kyle's response was barely a whisper, his words slurred and disjointed as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. His complexion was pale, a stark contrast to the tan he had been developing with summer oncoming, as he swayed unsteadily on his feet. He leaned against a tree trying to secure his footing before he dazily dropped to the ground, his back depending on the tree to keep him sitting up.

Instinctively, you looked around for someone to help, of course, you were left in an unnerving silence. "It's okay, we're cool, you're fine," You mutter, more comfort to yourself as you shed your backpack and move to kneel next to Kyle.

Moving with haste you yank his bag off, harsher than preferred. "Don't die, asshole," You urged softly, your voice shaking in the slightest. You reached into his bag, retrieved a small pouch containing glucose tablets, and quickly administered them to Kyle, urging him to chew slowly and swallow.

As the glucose tablets took effect, you could've sworn Kyle's colour began to return, the pallor fading from his cheeks as his blood sugar levels stabilized. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as the immediate threat passed.

Just as you began to breathe a sigh of relief, Kyle's eyes fluttered closed, his body going limp in your arms as he slumped against you. Panic surged through your veins like a tidal wave as you realized that he had lost consciousness. The brief moment of ease was axed in the head and replaced with an even more dire situation.

You snatch his canvas backpack once again, rummaging around for it, after four seconds of not finding what you need you dump the contents onto the ground. Your fingers fumbled with nervous energy as you retrieved an emergency glucagon injection, praying that it would be enough to bring Kyle back from the brink.

In your seventeen years of enmity, you had seen Kyle go through a good bit of complications due to his diabetes though there had always been one of your parents around to help and on a once-off occasion during a middle school assembly, Stan was on the case. You had never had his life in your hands, you made the decision between his life and comatose.

Your mom and dad had sat you down on several occasions to teach you explicitly what to do, you hadn't quite realized the significance until his unconscious body was flaccid over your lap. The hatred you had for him was momentarily pushed aside until he was okay enough to yell at you again.

With trembling hands, you lifted his shirt to expose the raw flesh of his abs. Taking a steadying breath you administered the injection, plunging the needle into Kyle's stomach. You watched with bated breath as the medication took effect, you knew it wouldn't be instant though part of you expected him to shoot back up the second the needle stuck into his skin.

No idea what you are supposed to do next you reach deep into the pocket of his jeans and pull out his phone. The screen was black and unmoving, just as yours was. You toss the phone to your side, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes to press back the overwhelming feeling that fought to spill.

Taking a deep breath and wiping away any remnants of stress that were thrashing to consume you entirely, you move two fingers beneath his jawline to check for a pulse. You had been thinking back to your first aid class from tenth grade PE, what your grouchy teacher had tried to ingrain in your head.

His chest held an unsteady rise and fall and for split seconds between rational thoughts snuck in the idea that this might be it for him. Gingerly, you turn him onto his side, propping his right knee forward so he won't roll onto his stomach.

With care, you had resituated him into the recovery position that Mrs. Jackson had drilled into memory the year prior. You pushed yourself off the ground, pacing back and forth, hands tucked into your armpits, hugging yourself.

You flinched at the slightest sound, eyes quickly shifting to the source just for it to be a bird or the rustle of branches. "Kyle, if you die, that's going to fuck up both of our families for a really long time and I'll probably have to go to therapy which is so boring," You speak to his unconscious body like he's going to respond.

"You're seriously such a fucking loser if you die right now, so not cool," Part of you wanted to sprint away for help but you knew you likely wouldn't find a way out before Kyle regained consciousness and you didn't want to risk losing him entirely.

Your voice was shaking, your lip trembling and each breath coming out wobbly like you were about to faint yourself. That uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach for the second time that day "Dude, you might be ruining my life right now."

Of course, he was unresponsive and the only thing offering you any form of solace was the sound of his breathing, ever so faintly heard through the whispering between trees. With each passing second that he didn't wake up you grew more nervous, leaning on a tree, eyes narrowing in on his limp body for any movement.

If he did survive, he desperately needed to update his glucose monitor. You didn't like him, but that didn't mean you wanted him to die, you just never wanted to hear from him again. You bit your lip until you tasted blood, a desperate attempt to stifle the scream building in your throat, trapped behind a dam of unspoken words and unshed tears. You refused to cry over Kyle, especially when he was alive and breathing. "I think I hate you," You mutter so quietly that it almost gets blown away by the wind.

Kyle stirred, gagging with his mouth closed, eyelids still heavy. "Oh my fucking god," You drop your hands to your side in relief and bound towards him, crouching down to his level. His eyelids fluttered open, still, Kyle's body convulsed with gags as his hands clamoured for the trunk of the tree and your bicep harshly to pull him back up.

Eventually, with choked and shallow breath Kyle lurched forward and wretched, partially onto the ground, partially onto you. Bits of the greenish bile splash onto your clothing. Quickly you scrambled away, fighting the urge to upheave again as you look at the contents spilled onto your clothes.

Instead of coughing up your guts, you scrunch up your nose and hand him the black water bottle that had been dumped onto the ground with the rest of his belongings. At least the two of you were even now.

Repose washed over you when his sharp shallow breaths turned deep and steady. He rinsed his mouth out with water, eyes studying you where you were backing to sifting through his pile of belongings, while his chest rose and fell with every breath of air. His hands were trembling to the point that water almost splashed from the mouth of his bottle with how much he was rocking it.

There hadn't been much vomit on you though you still avoided breathing in through your nose to avoid the putrid smell. Wordlessly you move to grab his hand which he quickly retracts "What are you doing?"

"What do you think? You fucking idiot," You say, lancet pen in hand with a fresh needle inserted to prick his finger "You just threw up on me so don't be a bitch and give me your hand."

With a slight flush to his face, he held his hand out which you took. His fingers were cold to the touch, you took his ring finger and rubbed it between your thumb and index to warm it up and get some blood flow going. The both of you didn't look at one another, just where the skin of your hands connected as you massaged his finger with a hyper-focus.

When the skin of his ring finger was no longer cold against yours you quickly swabbed it down with a rubbing alcohol towelette that had been tucked into the emergency kit Sheila had sewn for Kyle, the fabric had strawberries with smiley faces on it.

Your eyes shifted for a brief moment to the silver medical emergency bracelet on his wrist that you gripped to steady his hand before you stuck the needle of the lancet into his finger. He flinched just the slightest. Kyle was used to using the glucometer on himself, he stopped having his mother do it completely when he reached sixth grade, there were a few times when Kenny and Stan did it out of pure curiosity but at this moment he had been shaking too much and didn't have much to stable himself on aside from trees and the grubby forest floor.

After applying gentle pressure you removed the lancer, inserted a new test strip into the glucometer and held it to the dribble of blood pooled on the pad of his finger like cherry juice. Watching the crimson soak into the test strip, you place it in his hand and rise to your feet.

Instead of watching his blood sugar level on the glucometer, Kyle was watching you riffle through your backpack and pull out what looked to be a change of clothes. He couldn't think of a time where you had ever been that gentle with him, even if you called him a bitch.

You glance back at him, gaze hardening when you see him staring directly at you. "Turn around, gay-ass, I need to change into my gym strip."

Without saying anything, Kyle awkwardly shifts the body to face the other direction. He keeps his gaze focused downwards on the glucometer watching it settle at the number 81. He was in the clear for now.

"Hey, so-uh, are you okay enough to earth it?" You ask as you peel your layers of clothing off, compulsively gagging at the sour smell, you can't help it. 

"Earth it?" He furrows his eyebrows, still staring at his blood sugar level like he is analyzing it "What the hell does that mean?"

"I dunno," you say, continuing to strip down until you're left in nothing but undergarments, trying not to shudder with each gust of wind. "Just earth it, like Coyote Peterson, y'know? Be a man and rub some dirt in it."

"Are trying to ask me if I can walk?" Absent-mindedly his free hand reached for the sore spot in his abdomen where he assumed you had put the empty injection needle that now landed discarded next to its container.

"Yeah."

"Then just ask that."

"Woah what's with all this attitude after I saved your life," You shimmy into a pair of biker shorts that were intended for the soccer practice you had to miss that day.

Begrudgingly Kyle said, "Thank you." Though it was so quiet he wasn't even sure you would hear it. His head was pounding, it felt like someone was inside of his skull and beating it with a sledgehammer. “And, yeah, I can walk, just give me a minute.”

You were a little taken aback that he actually thanked you. You were just being a dick when you brought up rescuing him from comatose, in your head this was just something that the two of you would never bring up again. Without knowing what to say, you pretend that you didn't hear him and instead reach for a clean shirt.

"What are you doing?!" A voice cut through the growing silence. Immediately both you and Kyle look to see Mr. Waterman standing with Wendy. Mr. Waterman had turned around and covered his eyes the moment he saw you shirtless while Wendy's gaze shot between you and Kyle wildly. "Put some clothes on right now!" 

At the very least it was nice to know someone had been looking for you.

[kwnnys]

— craigs gang + tweek sleeping hcs

hcs ; a/n : ok I swear I'll work on reqs after this pinky promise

— craig tucker

I've mentioned this on another post but I definitely think he grinds his teeth while sleeping.

mostly because of anxiety, but also it just happens randomly

he doesn't move much, but he occasionally turns while sleeping.

craig abslutely cannot sleep with warm sheets or pillows. it makes him super irritated and annoyed.

sometimes he lets tricia in his bed when she gets nightmares and they have cute sibling bond times <33

begged his parents for one of those car beds for years till they finally caved in and bought it for him.

has a bunch of space and car themed pajamas.

— tweek tweak

poor boy rarely gets any sleep cause of his insomnia 🙁🙁

but when he does manages to sleep, hes always tossing and turning

he defo groans and squirms in his sleep for no reason... just tweek being tweek

he used to have a bunch of stuffed animals until one night he swore he saw one of them move and threw them all out

always sleeps with the lights/tv on, or with a nightlight

the guys tease him for it constantly 😓😓

most of the time he sleeps in his outside clothes cause he forgets to change into his pajamas

xtra creek hc : the first time tweek slept over with craig he could not sleep the whole night cause mf kept grinding his teeth and it was driving him INSANE 😭😭 he always made sure to bring earplugs whenever he slept over since that day.

— clyde donovan

the kind of guy to say "sleep is for the weak 🥶" then pass out at 7 pm.

also sleeps with a nightlight on but would NEVER admit it out loud.

a very loud snorer in denial.

has a secret stuffed animal he always sleeps and cuddles with every night.

he talks in his sleep and says a bunch of random things

loves doing skin care and having spa nights!!!!!

the first one to sleep during every sleepover. cries every time he wakes up to drawings of penises on his face.

sleeps in the most horrendous positions 💀💀

bro transforms to a gymnast when he sleeps😭

— tolkien black

the most normal person in the group

he mostly sleeps on his side or back.

the group goes to his house for sleepovers so often he literally has some of their clothes in his drawer.

wears retainers.

he always makes sure to send the group goodnight texts before sleeping.

secretly a sleep walker (he doesn't know though.)

his bed is so big hes like an ant whenever he lays down 💀

has alot of fancy sleeping masks and scrubs but never uses them 😭 he just keeps them there for aesthetics

— jimmy valmer

that type of person that cannot sleep without a fan.

everyone will be trying to rest with the loud ass sound of a fan in the background 💀

almost immediately wakes whenever someone turns it off.

always sleeps through all of his alarms. he has about 50 of them.

used to wear retainers before he got braces.

shifts alot in his sleep and occasional giggles.

tells EVERYONE about all his silly dreams.

^ the group is kinda tired of it tbh.

jokingly tells the guys he has a boner in the middle of the night and they just look at him like 😐

[jewbeloved]

hi there, love your writing! would you be willing to write main 4 + clyde, where they’re hanging out with their crush late at night, and their crush falls asleep on them?

Team Stan + Clyde hanging out with their s/o at night🌃😴🌌❤️

Warnings: None

Gender: Neutral

💙 Stan Marsh ❄️

Learning to go on crazy adventures and some mischievous things with the boys, you texted Stan if you both could hang out at midnight.

Stan agreed, quality time is one of his love languages and he wouldn't want to miss an opportunity to spend time with you <3❤️

You both made sure your parents (or siblings) were asleep before you guys started your midnight crazy fun.

You guys played video games down in the basement, tp a teacher's house because she pissed you both off, pillow fights, and etc.

You were having so much fun that you ended up falling asleep while rambling about everything you both did together.

Stan blushed a bit and he didn't know what to do so he just stayed still while you sleep on him before drifting to sleep himself after a while. 💙💙💙💙💙💙

💚 Kyle Broflovski ♻️

He was a bit annoyed and confused on why you called him at midnight. The boy just want his beauty rest >:C

Being stubborn, you climbed up the tree that was near his window and jumped onto his bed because, in south park. The windows are always opened 😋

Kyle made a pouty face while you refuse to get out of his room. But you know that he's secretly happy that you're here, why wouldn't he enjoy your presence?

So you guys ended up doing the fun ideas you had planned for this night.

Even though Kyle was a bit tired, he tried his best to keep his eyes opened as you rambling about something random you thought while you both watch something on your (device).

After another couple of mins, you both fell asleep together at the same time <3.

Ike eavesdropped on you both the whole time 💚💚💚💚

❤️ Eric Cartman 🍓

Being the little devious child he is, he is obviously the one who purposed the idea of doing something mischievous with you after everyone else is asleep.

You basically often follow out with Cartman's plans unless it's something dangerous then no.

You do worry for Cartman's safety even though the stuff he does pisses other people off, you can understand why they would be upset with him. After all, you're friends with/dating a sociopathic racist kid :>

Once your little hangout is over, you both managed to get back to bed without being spotted. I wonder what Cartman did to make you both have such good luck with that :O

You soon realized that this was going to be a daily night routine-❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

🧡 Kenny Mccormick 🎃

You both are always on the same page, you didn't have to tell each other what you were going to do this night.

Oh my god, you both ended up doing 49 activities together in one single whole night! Kenny definitely didn't make any dirty jokes in between.

How did you both managed to not caught? You both placed corks into your parents' ears so they couldn't hear a single thing. (You also did the same to your siblings if you have any).

When you first fell asleep on Kenny after a lot of fun together, he will chill and calm about it. He let you lean on him while he wrapped his parka around you like a blanket so you would get cold.

He secretly likes it whenever you sleep on him, it gives him an excuse to snuggle up close to you🧡🧡🧡🧡

❤️ Clyde Donovan 🔫

He almost pissed himself when you suddenly appeared onto his bed and scared him. (You were hiding in his room while in the dark.

You always liked to tease Clyde playfully and hang out with him, and since your parents are asleep you saw this as a perfect opportunity to bring him over to your house to talk about stupid stuff, play games, and etc together.

You even taught Clyde how to crave a jack-o'-lantern since he wasn't sure how to do it.🎃🎃

Clyde was a complete blushing mess when you fell asleep on him. Like Stan, he wasn't sure what to do besides staying still and letting you sleep on him.

He probably even went through 5 stages of grief at the moment.❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Already October? Damn time flies way too fast.🎃🎃🎃

[roryculkinluvr]

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

➸ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: clyde x fem reader

➸ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluffy smut, sexual themes, established relationship, oral (female receiving), fingering.

➸ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: this is my first time writing ff so i apologize if it’s not perfect, i tried my best and i hope you all enjoy! also i hope you like the lana del rey reference in the title ♡

you and clyde sat on his bed, your head rested on his shoulder as he traced the lines on your palm. you two often sat like this, enjoying each other’s company, talking about whatever came to mind in the moment.

you sat up to face him, removing your hand from his grasp. you moved his long brown hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear. you leaned closer towards him as you cupped his jaw, your thumb brushing his cheek gently. clyde smiled at you shyly as his eyes flickered between your eyes and mouth. you attached your lips to his, they were slightly chapped yet soft. he kissed you back gently as his hands rested on your waist.

you tilted your head deepening the kiss as his hands found their way under your t-shirt. he moved them up and down your waist, almost meeting the bottom of your tits, which were hidden by your lace bra.

you smiled into the kiss but clyde unexpectedly pulled away, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“i-i won’t touch you like that…” he said shyly, just louder than a whisper. he took a moment to concentrate on your facial expressions, trying to read your thoughts. “unless you want”

obviously the two of you had made out many times, but clyde was never too touchy, not like this. he certainly wasn’t a prude but he wanted you to know he wasn’t taking advantage of you.

clyde’s friends honestly could be dicks. you had witnessed them go off to have sex with girls that they had just met at shows, with no intention of pursuing them. clyde wanted you to understand that he genuinely had feelings for you. he genuinely loved you, even if he hadn’t said it yet.

“like what clyde?” you asked. you definitely knew what he meant, but teasing him was much more fun.

“like in a sexual way.” he responded. clyde could barely meet your eyes, so shy of his own words. you moved over so you were straddling him. the boy’s eyes widened slightly, he wasn’t excepting this as your reaction.

“and what if i wanted you to touch me like that?” you ran your hands down his chest, his cheeks reddened.

“then i would” he respond, growing in confidence. “would you want me to?” he questioned, desperately trying to hide the smirk that was forming on his face.

“would i want you to what clyde? use your words” you purred. you knew the effect you had on him. although he seemed so confident, sometimes cocky, you knew he would melt under your touch.

“fuck…would you want me to touch you in a sexual way?” he huffed out.

“yeah i would, do you want to touch me like that clyde?”

he nodded eagerly, “yes. i really would.” you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you and kissed him again, more passionately this time. one of his hands went back to your waist, the other toyed with the hem of your oversized t-shirt.

you pulled away from his lips and removed your shirt, throwing it on his bedroom floor, displaying your lacy bra. clyde did the same and removed his shirt, you helped him pull it over his head between kisses, discarding it next to yours.

your fingers ran down his now bare torso, your soft hands on his exposed skin gave him goosebumps. clyde was slightly toned with a prominent v-line. “mmm so pretty clyde” you smiled and met his lips again, rolling your hips onto his which made him whimper faintly.

you detached your lips from his and unhooked your bra, tossing it on the pile of your dismissed clothing.

clyde stared at you in awe. he had never seen you like this, his eyes studied every inch of your body. he thought everything about you was perfect.

“you’re so beautiful” he breathed. you smiled down at him.

“thank you” you kissed him again, “so are you, my beautiful boy.”

clyde wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him while your mouth outlined his jaw and neck, leaving hot sloppy kisses as your hands entangled his curls.

“fuck…” he groaned, “baby i wanna make you feel good.” you pulled away from him, meeting his eyes.

“how are you gonna make me feel good?” you cooed. your hands continued to play with his hair.

“i wanna taste you.”

“yeah? i’d like that clyde.” with your permission, he gently moved you so that you were under him. he cupped one of your boobs, kissing the other. his curious hands roamed your body as he sucked a mark into your tit.

“can i take these off?” he asked, referring to your sweat shorts. you nodded and he pulled them off, exposing a wet spot on your underwear. “fuck baby, you’re so wet already” clyde’s head went fuzzy at the sight of your almost naked body. you had always imagined yourself feeling anxious in a moment like this, but clyde made you feel safe, he made you feel beautiful.

“m’gonna make you feel so good baby” he began to remove your wet lace thong “this okay?” he asked, clyde wanted to make sure you always felt safe with him.

“yeah take them off,” you nodded “please.” he threw them beside both of your shirts.

clyde placed his head between your legs, leaving hickeys on your inner thighs. his kisses made their way closer and closer to your cunt. “you ready?”

“yeah” you panted. he started by leaving soft licks on your slit making your breath hitch.

clyde couldn’t get enough of you. his mouth felt every part of your cunt, desperately lapping your wetness. your soft moans encouraged him.

“you taste so good.” he voiced, he traced his tongue up and down you cunt and around your clit. you whined at the lack of stimulation, taking your hint, he sucked on your clit. this earned a sharp moan from you. “that feel good baby?”

“so good” you groaned.

“is it okay if i try something else?” he asked.

“of corse” you breathed. with that, he pushed two fingers into you, pumping them slowly as his mouth remained on and around your clit. “fuck clyde, feels so good. you’re so good to me” you cried. clyde began to flick your clit with this toungue, pumping his fingers into you faster than before. you were so close, you pulled a fist full of his hair making him whimper. the vibration from his moans and whimpers added to your pleasure.

“shit m’so close clyde” you whimpered.

“cum for me, wanna taste it” he sucked harshly at your now extremely sensitive bud, ”please.” he whined.

“m’gonna cum now clyde— shit” you could barely speak, it all felt so good, it was almost overwhelming. he thrusted his fingers into your cunt as the room filled with your high pitched moans. your cum painted clyde’s fingers. he pushed them into you through your orgasm, making sure you finished. he pulled his fingers out of you and sucked your cum off his fingers.

“fuck you taste so good”

“y-you did so good” you panted.

clyde sat up and kissed your forehead. he then leaned towards his dresser beside his bed, rummaging for a shirt for you to wear.

once he found you a t-shirt (which fit you more like a dress), he helped you put it on and flopped beside you. you both turned to face each other.

he stared at you, admiring your beauty.

“i love you” he blurted, breaking the silence. his voice so sounded nervous but you knew he meant it.

“i love you too, clyde.”

he pulled you closer to him, your arms wrapped around each other’s. he wanted to be with you forever, you were the only person who mattered to clyde. you were the first person who made him feel loved.

[noirvette]

WE NEVER EXISTED [band smau]

THE BAND ♡ :

Twitter accounts:

[p1nkprincess444]

˚⋆❀˖°𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒯𝒽𝓇ℯℯ ℴ𝒻 𝒰𝓈 - 𝒞𝓁𝒶𝓎 ℛℴ𝒶𝒸𝒽°˖❀⋆˚

female!reader x clay roach

word count: 2,160

contents: 18+, angst, suicide

When you first met Clay you were both in highschool, he was in grade 12 and you were in grade 10. As soon as you met each other you fell into his world. 

He would take you to parties practically every weekend letting you sit in his lap while he shared joints and drinks with you. You both were absolutely hammered and higher than kites as you stumbled back to your house with him. You giggled as you stumbled up the staircase with Clay holding onto you. You tumbled into your bed with him. You both laid on your backs taking in each other's features. You admired the way his hair fell around his face and the way his lips curled up in a smile. You noticed how the veins in his hands bulged slightly as he squeezed your hand. You smiled at the way his eyes flickered down from your lips to your breasts that were almost spilling out of your dress as you laid with him. One simple movement changed everything in a split second. His lips pressed against yours as his hand moved up to cup your cheek. His tongue slid past your lips as his hand moved to the back of your head pulling you closer as he kissed you. Before you knew it his hands were pushing up your dress so it was bunched up around your waist as he pulled down your panties. Your hands fumbled with his belt trying to unbuckle it but you couldn’t seem to manage. It made Clay smile as you struggled, making him gently push your hands away as he unbuckled his belt followed by him pushing down his jeans. Clay’s lips connected with your neck kissing and nipping at it as the leaking head of his cock pressed against your entrance. He slowly pushed inside of you until he bottomed out making you both moan in unison.  

“ Taking me so well.. Fuck you feel so good, ” he punctuated every word with a thrust of his cock. 

You could only respond with whimpers and moans as his pace began to quicken. Your fingers tangled in his long wavy brown hair as he thrusted into you with a newfound desperation. Soft praises escaped his lips as his fingers dug into your hips. Your legs locked around his hips as your cunt squeezed him impossibly tight signaling your oncoming release. You cried out Clay’s name loudly as you came around his cock and at the same time he was filling you full of his seed. 

Clay pressed a soft tender kiss to your lips before rolling off you as he looked into your eyes. “ Are you alright princess? ”

I smiled at the nickname as I brushed hair from his face. “ Mm’ okay, ” I smiled softly as he kissed me again before he tucked himself back into his boxers before moving down between my thighs. “ What are- are you doing, ” my question was answered with his mouth greedily moving to suck on my clit.

Clay responded only in a soft hum as his tongue lapped at your folds. His fingers pushed inside of you as his mouth sucked on your clit. He had your hips pinned to the bed as he fucked you with his fingers faster. Lewd noises left your mouth as you shamelessly grinded against his face while he eagerly moved his fingers faster as his tongue swirled around your clit. Clay curled his fingers hitting the perfect spot inside of you making your back arch as moans slip past your lips. He sped up his movements as he saw you coming undone. 

“ Fuck- mm’ gonna.. ” Before I could finish my sentence I was cumming around his fingers as he lapped at my folds cleaning up the mess he made.

He withdrew his fingers after a few moments, licking them clean as he crawled back up onto the bed. Clay kissed your forehead gently as he pulled off your dress followed by his clothes as he moved you under the plush duvet that covered your bed. 

This seemed to be how you spent your weekends now. You’d get wasted and high at a party and stumble home on Clay’s arm. He’d spend the night tangled in your arms and you’d wake up with him sleeping peacefully next to you. Those were your favorite moments with him in the morning. You admired the peacefully relax fullness of his features as the sun cascading through your window on his soft brown hair and face. It was all perfect until it all came crashing down in your senior year of highschool. Clay was out of highschool but was still partying as hard as ever. You had stumbled home with him to his new apartment, but this time you were reckless with him. He had you bent over the arm of his new couch as he slammed his cock into you. You hadn’t bothered to ask if he had a condom, you hadn’t even remembered to remind him. By the time you did remember he was filling you full of his cum. As you laid awake in his bed he came back from the bathroom looking higher than he ever had. You hadn’t thought to ask what he might have been on as you fell asleep in his arms that night.

A few weeks had passed since that night and you began to get sick, you wanted to push it off as the flu or even a common cold, but deep down you knew it was more than that. A week had passed and you were dropping weight like it was nothing. You were sleeping over at Clay’s and he began to notice how wretched you looked. 

“ Baby, what’s the matter, you’ve been looking worse and worse, ” Clay questioned you as he felt your forehead for the familiar warmth of a fever but he was met with the normal coolness of your skin. His brow furrowed slightly as he pulled you into his arms.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you might be pregnant as you laid in his arms before drifting off to sleep. The next morning like clock work you ran to the bathroom vomiting into the toilet. Your hands pushed your hair from your face as you heaved into the toilet. Clay soon followed you and kneeled next to you as his hands held back your hair. Once you had finished he pulled you into his lap stroking your hair before he got you a glass of water from the sink. He pressed it to your lips gently allowing you to rinse your mouth. He tucked you into his bed as he stroked your hair.

“ It’s just the flu, it'll be alright, you can stay here till you’re feeling better. ”

You nodded and turned over laying on your side facing away from him as anxiety filled your gut.

The next day when Clay went to work you snuck away and went to a small drugstore on the corner. You bought two pregnancy tests and walked back to Clay’s apartment as you took the first test. It came back positive with a small smiley face next to the words. You knew it had to be wrong so you took the second and the two pink lines couldn’t have been clearer screaming at you that you were pregnant. You heard the front door open making you panic as you shoved the tests in the trash can. You greeted Clay as he knocked on the door gently. He hugged you tightly before moving his hand up to your forehead feeling no abnormal temperature again. He laid with you in bed as you both soon drifted off to sleep for a short nap. You woke up alone in his bed, your heart immediately dropping. You crept out of his bed and found him on the couch with a needle in his hand and a belt pulled snug around his bicep. 

“ Clay- Clay what are you doing, ” you stood in the doorway like a child who just had a nightmare in Clay’s large sweater. 

He immediately put the drugs away trying to convince you it was anything but heroin. You laid in his bed with him as he explained how it “wasn’t that bad” he was almost convincing you to try it.

The next few months went on and your now child filled stomach was beginning to grow and so were the size of your clothes. Clay laid asleep in bed but had woken up to find you changing. Before you could pull your sweater over your bump Clay was out of bed holding your face in his hands. The next moment those three words left his lips. The words you dreaded to hear.

“ Are you pregnant? ” His face was one of concern and amazement as you gave a small nod. 

His arms engulfed you into a tight hug as you sobbed. The tears left your eyes because of your stupidity and your negligence. You didn’t know how you let yourself get pregnant in your last year of highschool by a boy your parents hated but you loved. You sunk into Clay’s arms as he whispered soothing words into your hair as he peppered your head with small kisses. 

The next few months were the hardest you could tell the reality of it all was hitting Clay head on. The arms you once loved wrapped around you were now being covered in deep brown track marks as his addiction grew worse by the days. You begged Clay to stop but he kept making empty promises. You’d wake up to him crawling back into bed high out of his mind on heroin, as he kissed you gently before slipping off into a deep drug induced sleep. 

As the months went on and you were nearing your due date you spent what seemed like less and less time with Clay as he was always slipping off to get high. You decided to go to his apartment as you knew he didn’t have work today. You knocked on his door once.. Then twice… and now a third time. All your knocks go unanswered, causing you to begin to become nervous. You knocked louder again until you remembered he gave you a key when he moved in. You fumbled for the key that was buried in your school back. You grabbed it as your hands shook while you tried to press the key into the lock. You opened the door to find Clay on the floor with a needle sticking out of his arm and his belt pulled as tight as he could around his bicep. You dropped to the floor as fast as you could, accommodating your swollen belly as you dropped to your knees next to Clay. 

“ Please- Please wake up, ” I sobbed as I stroked Clay’s hair with shaking hands. 

You began to shake him as you sobbed against his chest. You begged him to wake up as you shook him violently. His eyes fluttered open as he looked around the room, his eyes not landing on anything specific until they met your tear filled ones. He tried to speak but no words passed his lips. You clung to him like a life line begging him to keep his eyes open but yet they began to flutter shut anyways. 

“ No.. No- No! Please Clay you’re all I have anymore, ” I sobbed as I tried to keep him awake and yet he let his eyes fall shut again. 

You laid with your head on his chest as your sobs subsided. You slept on the floor next to him waiting for him to wake up. You waited to feel him move but slowly the rise and fall of his chest subsided and the thumping of his heart stopped. You laid there with your head resting against his chest feeling his skin grow cold against yours. You didn’t know what to do as you laid there until you found yourself standing in front of the bathroom mirror with a razor blade in your hands. Your life was falling apart in a matter of hours, the only man you had ever truly loved was lying dead on the floor in the other room, meanwhile your parents had practically disowned you after you told them you were pregnant. Everything was falling apart. Before you could even think of what to do next your hand was dragging the blade down your wrist all the way to your bicep. You quickly followed this action by doing the same to the other arm. You sunk to the floor as blood seeped from your wounds covering your clothes and the bathroom floor as you clutched your swollen belly. You thought about the life you could’ve had with Clay, a little white picket fence, with your precious little baby that he would cherish. You began to lose consciousness as you clutched onto unlived dreams.

[brewsterispunkk]

diamonds and stones, part one

pairing: clyde logan x f!reader (no use of y/n)

WC: 9k(!!)

summary: reader returns home & encounters some ghosts from her past.

warnings: 18+! language, mentions of war, amputation.

a/n: it's here!! i hope y'all enjoy this long ass chapter (this is so long its embarrassing LOL). there's some time skipping/flashbacks here so i hope it's not too hard to follow! as always, any feedback is appreciated :)

series masterlist

ONE

The phone had barely rung two times before you answered, thumb punching the accept call button as soon as you glanced at the caller ID. Pulling the phone up to your ear, you looked ahead at the cornfields and the open road in front of you. Your mom’s crackly voice filled your ears.

“Darlin’,” she sighed on the other end. So, she’d gotten your message.You thought to yourself.

Mentally, you kicked yourself for giving her any notice in the first place. You knew she’d try to talk you out of it, like she had successfully done the previous two times you’d tried moving back home.

“You got out, honey.” she’d say. “You got to do what I never did. You went to college, you got your degree, you moved to the city. Don’t throw that away. There ain’t nothin’ for you here.”

You hated that she referred to your hometown like that, the place that raised you: a place to get out of. Sometimes you missed it like you missed a limb.

And after your Gramma’s first stroke it had worked, no matter how guilty you felt for being states away while she recovered. 

It had been a minor stroke, the summer before your junior year of college. Not fatal, or with too many lasting health complications, but it had been enough to scare you. It had been enough to scare you into almost dropping out of college and moving home, but your mother and grandmother had insisted that you go back after she’d begun the road to recovery. 

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason you decided to go back, a small voice in the back of your head whispered.

 Two dark brown eyes danced in your mind's eye; freckles scattered sparsely across tan cheeks, a rumble of a laugh, the crackle of a tape on an old car radio. You dispelled it before you allowed your mind to wander further.

That’s in the past, you  insisted,  chastising that quiet voice trying to bring up old ghosts. 

You wouldn’t let your mind go there again. He left, you reminded yourself, instead resolving to focus on the road in front of you, and the nagging voice of your mother in your ear. 

She sighed your name.

“I told you not to come, honey. This is the whole reason we waited so long to tell you–”

“I’m already on the road, mom.” You interrupted her. “I moved out earlier this week, and I’m already on my way home. No use in trying to change my mind on this when it’s already done.” 

For the first time in what seemed like forever, you were met with radio silence; Your mother was speechless. There’s a beat of silence before she speaks again. Secretly, inside you’re smug. You’ve managed to outsmart her.

“You’re on the road right now?” She asked in that familiar disapproving short tone.

“As we speak,” you shifted, holding the wheel with one hand and slouching in your seat. Your mother sighed again.

“Stop that,” she said, displeasure evident in her voice.

“Stop what, mama? Driving?”

“Stop sounding so smug,” She scolded in that tone that all mothers have perfected, before addressing you by your full name. “This is gonna upset your Gramma. The last thing she wanted was you putin’ your whole life on hold for this.”

“‘For this?’” You asked in disbelief. “Mama, I can’t believe you waited more than a whole month to tell me the cancer was back in the first place! As if it was none of my business!” 

You could practically hear her eye-roll through the phone. 

“Now don’t be ridiculous.” She simpered. “We didn’t wanna upset you is all. And we certainly didn’t want you doin’ something so rash, like this.” 

You rolled your eyes. This woman was impossible. 

“Mom, I’d been considering leaving for a long time. My lease was up, Carla got married. This was just the final nail in the coffin. It was a long time comin’.”

“But you seemed so happy, baby.” she cooed. 

“I don’t care! I deserve to know if my grandma is dying or not, and you have no right to keep it from me!”

You were met with silence. It was your turn to sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she conceded softly. “I shouldn’t have kept it from you. I was just scared of something like this happening. You can’t expect me to believe that this whole thing didn’t cause you to up and move home out of the blue.”

“I know, mama, but it’s the truth.” You paused, before continuing, “I put in my notice weeks ago. I’ve missed home. A lot. The city is…so loud. And there are no mountains near Chicago. The land is so flat, and–”

“I know baby, I know.” You could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the line.

 She was no doubt calling from the landline in the kitchen at the old house. Thinking of it, your heart yearned. You missed it so much.

“It’s just that this was your dream, baby. And I just know your Gramma’s gonna blame herself for you giving that up.”

“Mom, I’m not giving anything up,” you emphasized the last part, trying to get it through her head. “I still have my dreams, Chicago just wasn’t it. It took me a while to realize that, but I have. And I have no idea where I wanna go or what I wanna do next, but I do know that I miss home. I was planning on coming back even before I found out.”

“Alright,” she began, but you wouldn’t let her continue. You needed to get this out. 

“And, that combined with the fact that Gramma’s cancer is back means there’s nothin’ you can do to stop me.”

“Alright,” she sighed on the other line. “I suppose there’s nothin’ I can do about it now. How did you find out in the first place? You never mentioned in that hysterical voicemail you left–”

“I had reason to be hysterical, don’t you think? Findin’ out from Jimmy Logan and all.”

“Jimmy Logan?” she asked in surprise. “Now what were you doin’ talkin’ to him? Did he finally buck up and get a cell phone?”

“Yes, he did,” you chuckled, “Mellie finally convinced him. Anyway, after she helped him get his contacts in order, the first thing he did was give me a ring, saying how sorry he was to hear about Gramma bein’ sick again.”

“But how? I didn’t even tell Jimmy Logan. The only people we told were the ladies in prayer group.”

You laughed.

“Oh, you know how word gets around. Jimmy heard it from Earl at the hardware store, who heard it from Irene, who heard it from her momma, who, if I’m not mistaken, is in your prayer group.”

“Well,” your mother huffed. “I suppose that is how it goes. I’ll tell you one thing, your Gramma will be happy to see you, no matter the circumstance.”

“I know,” you sighed,  glad that the air was at least a little cleared between you. You were still hurt that she’d kept something as important as your Gramma’s illness from you, but you understood where she was coming from. She just wanted what was best for you, wanted you to have everything she didn’t.

“Speaking of them Logans,” your mom said. “Have you told her you’re coming home?”

You laughed into the phone.

“Yes, Mellie knows I’m coming home.” You were surprised that she’d even assumed you hadn’t told the youngest Logan about your returning. She’d kill you if you didn’t.

“Good. I know she’s missed you. Last week while she was doin’ my hair, she told me a girl’s weekend every few months and a phone call just wasn’t cutting it.”

Mellie’s face flashed in your mind, and the feeling of dread at returning home started to dissipate. She had that effect on you; Ever since you met nearly 20 years earlier. You smiled, as your mind drifted back to then.

1995

You’d never imagined coming to a new school would ever be this hard. You’d expected it to be like how you’d seen it happen in TV shows or books or those kids movies you liked so much; Where after a rocky start with school bullies, the new kid fell in with the perfect group of friends and everything was fine. That was what you’d anticipated: The melodrama, the excitement. What you hadn’t expected was the monotony and loneliness.

Entering the third grade in october–two and a half months into the term–was never easy. At least that’s what your grandma had told you, and her being your grandma, you were inclined to believe her. 

“It’s not gonna be easy,” she’d told you. “And kids can be real mean, darlin’. Especially when you’re new and they don’t know you. But, you just show them how kind, and special, and smart, and funny you are, and you won't have no problem fittin’ in.”

And you’d expected it to be that easy. Boy were you wrong.

On your first day at Daniel Boone Elementary, you’d expected to be met with a little wariness (what with being the new kid and all), but had hoped, in the end, to make at least one new friend to tell your mom and grandma about when you got off the bus and went home. Instead, you got the usual strange introduction to the class by your new teacher, and that was that. No kids even came up to talk to you. You ate your PB&J sandwich alone at lunch, and spent recess alone on the swings. 

The following months went by in a similar manner: no new friends in sight. All the girls in your class were either too preoccupied with your hand-me-down clothes to play with you, or too shy to. And the boys wanted nothing to do with the weird new girl with too-knobby knees and too-big teeth because even if you liked the exact same things as them, you were still a girl, which meant you had cooties. 

So, at home you’d drift away and pass your time the only time you knew how: through stories. Whether it be babysitters’ club books or PBS kids documentaries on your grandma’s old box TV, your head was always in the clouds. You’d be cryptic when your grandma or mom would ask about school, and they’d begun to notice. Before the snow came and the world froze over for winter, you’d also begun to explore the property behind your grandma’s house, getting lost in nature as you used to. 

By spring, your grandma was at a standstill. 

The snow was thawing, and after a winter indoors, she was at her wits end. She could recognize a depressive episode when she saw one, and the fact that she was seeing it in you, her eight-year-old granddaughter, made her heart break all the more.

She had been just about ready to call an intervention with the school’s principal and psychologist when it happened. You met the person who would change your life.

You’d met Mellie Logan once before, roughly a month after your arrival in Boone County, when you were still new enough to be considered the least bit interesting at Daniel Boone Elementary. She was a year older than you and about a head shorter, with the same shade of rich brown hair as the older boy you’d recognized her sit with on the bus; Her brother, Jimmy Logan who was a middle schooler, but not the least bit embarrassed to sit by his little sister on the ride home, tugging playfully on her braids. She was in Ms. Granfell’s class down the hall, with whom your class shared a recess and lunch time, along with some of the 6th graders. 

It had been on the bus that you’d had your brief first encounter with Mellie Logan. She and about five other kids got off a few stops before yours, down Elm street, and rather than the fact that she had one older brother, that was about all you knew about the girl, and that was all the thought you’d given to her. 

The encounter was a small one: your backpack had been in the aisle as the kids filed in from the school at the end of a school-day in early November and she’d muttered a quiet “pardon me,” as she passed you to her usual seat at the back of the bus where her brother was already seated, and that was that. You barely knew her.

Now, though, as you sat in the school principal’s office, bright fluorescent lights shining over the deep mahogany desk, you felt that all of that was going to change. Mellie sat beside you, eyebrows knit together obstinately as she stared directly ahead of her at the clock on the opposite wall, frowning.

It read: 1:23. You sighed.

That meant that you were missing library time with the rest of your class while being holed up in here, waiting while the principal made calls to each of your parents that they had to come pick you up and discuss the incident.

Your stomach sunk in annoyance as you crossed your arms and slumped down further into the armchair next to Mellie. 

 Great, now they have even more of a reason to think I’m weird, you thought. That was the last thing you needed. You were already having a hard time fitting in in the first place, with girls like Heather Campbell making faces at you and snickering when it was your turn to answer a question or read aloud to the class. You didn’t need to be known as the weird new girl who’d also gotten into a fight with a sixth grader. 

You groaned in realization that that was exactly what you’d be known as from now on. You ran a hand over your face. And just wait until your mom found out, until your Gramma found out. Your life was over.

At that, Mellie looked over at you, her formerly sour expression turned questioning at your sudden outburst.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked, moving to sit on her hands. Her legs were swinging back and forth off of the edge of the seat of the chair. She looked more bored than anything else, which was wild to you, considering the insane amount of trouble you both were about to be in the moment your parents walked through that door.

You looked at her like she was insane, her freckled face a picture of nonchalance, and sighed. Your heart was at the pit of your stomach as you watched the small round clock tick by, each second drawing closer to what was bound to be the end of your eight years on this planet.

You hadn’t intended to get involved. You really hadn’t. But when you’d seen the trampled, embarrassed look in his deep brown eyes, you didn’t know what else you could do.

 It was, surprisingly, not in your nature to be confrontational at this point in your life. Though you’d later grow to be quite the headstrong person, the years spent walking around on eggshells with Keith had taken a toll on your personality. You liked to avoid conflict with even your family, nevertheless with the mean fourth graders you’d always hear snickering at people during lunchtime. But when you’d heard them picking on the lanky boy with messy dark hair something within you had snapped.

It was breakfast for lunch day, aka: the best day of the week, and when the bell rang  signaling the beginning of lunchtime you moved as fast as your legs could carry you to the cafeteria.

You stepped into the line behind a tall, lanky boy who had to be at least a few years older than you. You recognized him from your bus; He lived on the same street as Mellie and her brother, and like you, always sat by himself on the bus. You thought that he was probably the only kid who was as quiet as you. In fact, you weren’t sure you’d ever even heard the stoic boy utter a word in the month and a half you’d spent riding home with him. His face always seemed to stay the same too, you’d noticed. 

Not that you’d been watching him, you corrected yourself.

Right now, though, the boy smiled at you as you came up behind him. A tight-lipped, shy one at that, but his dark eyes shone with genuine kindness that you were almost too flustered to know what to do. Such kindness, even small ones like this, had been few and far between in your time in Boone County. It’d been lonely, and this little boy’s smile made it feel a little less so. A part of you wondered if this town had been similarly lonely for him too. You smiled back.

The sound of giggling broke you from your blatant staring at the boy in front of you. Two girls had entered the line behind you. You didn’t know their names, but you recognized them from the time you had spent people-watching during your month or so of eating alone. The taller one was blonde, with long straight hair and thick braces covering her teeth as she smiled right past you and to the boy standing in front of you. Her counterpart was shorter and a bit stouter, with short pin-curls that practically stuck to her hair. Your stomach dropped as you took in the looks on both of their faces. Their smiles were anything but kind as they looked right through and onto the boy who was oblivious to what was coming.

You weren’t though. Just last week, you’d seen the pair of girls push a little girl in your class off of the monkey bars for “taking their spot,” when you knew for a fact that that girl had been there for all of recess already. Before that, you’d seen them ridicule another girl for her new haircut that had come out much shorter than expected until she cried. These were two girls you knew not to cross, and here they were, sights set on the boy in front of you whose name you didn't even know. And you were caught in the middle of it. 

“Uhm, excuse me?” The blonde girl asked, reaching across you and tapping the boy on the shoulder. Her face was twisted in barely held-in laughter, while beside her, her friend’s face held an identical.

The boy turned, eyes wide and curious. Kind. Unaware of exactly how nasty these two could be. 

“Y-yeah?” He asked, voice cracking when he stuttered. The blonde looked over to her friend and then back at him.

“Your name’s Clyde, right?” She asked, head tilting.

“Uhm, yeah, tha’s right.” He smiled, bashful. Ears twinged red.

Clyde. That was the boy’s name. It fit him, you thought. 

Her friend popped in. “Say, ain’t you a Logan?” She asked, face spread in what seemed like a kind smile. 

Something you didn’t buy. You thought as you grabbed an orange from the selection of fruit.

“Yes ma’am,” he said, moving down the line. He picked up a strawberry milk carton before moving further down where the french toast sticks were. You continued to eavesdrop, feeling the most awkward you had in a while as the conversation continued with you, quite literally, in the middle of it.

“Well, Clyde Logan,” the blonde continued, reaching for an identical carton of strawberry milk. Her face was smug. “There’s something Quinn and I have been meaning to ask you for a while now.”

“What’s that?” he asked, curious. He looked at her, eyes open and welcoming and you dreaded the next words that were going to come out of her mouth. It wasn’t gonna be good.

“We were just wondering,” she snorted halfway through, hand coming to her mouth. “Sorry, we were just wondering if you’d done something to upset your momma?”

He chuckled awkwardly, obviously confused, and flicked some dark hair behind his ear. “Pardon me?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Oh, nothin’. It’s just you had to have done something to have earned a haircut like that.”

Beside her, her friend had given up on controlling her laughter. Wheezing, her friend–Quinn–interjected.

“Or maybe your hairdresser hates you? What did you do to make someone let you walk out of the house like that?” She giggled.

“Don’t be silly, Quinn. The Logans can’t afford a hairdresser. It had to have been his momma. I mean, really Clyde, you had to have done somethin’ bad.” The blonde chimed in again.

“Although, maybe it’s not the haircut, Heather.” Quinn piped in casually, serving herself french toast. “That’s not fair to his momma. It’s those ears. They stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Mhm,” the blonde, heather, nodded. “I think you’re right. And his nose. It's so big. That’s what makes you so unfortunate looking. Not the hair at all.”

Clyde looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Surprise coloring his features, the smallest frown upon his lips.

“Or , you know what,” Heather considered, piling bacon onto her lunch tray. “It’s probably that curse your sister wouldn’t shut up about last year. What’d she call it?”

“The Logan Family Curse.” Quinn chimed in. Heather laughed. 

“That must be it!” She giggled in that snotty, preteen way. “Who knew that the Logan family curse was being cursed with bein’ uglier than a mud fence!”

“Or having ears the size of Dumbo’s.” 

Looking over at Clyde, you saw his eyes glassy with unshed tears as he looked down at his lunch tray. Crestfallen. It sent white hot anger surging through your chest, and before you could register it, you were turning to face the two girls beside you in line.

“Just because he has straight teeth and you don’t doesn’t mean you have to be mean.” You glared at her. Her smug face morphed into one of anger as her eyes hardened into a glare.

“Excuse me?” she asked. Beside her, Quinn’s eyebrows rose to her hairline.

“You heard me, brace-face.” You stood your ground, glaring right back at her. She gasped at the insult, not ready for a taste of her own medicine. An identical look of horror crossed her companion’s face. From behind you, you heard a familiar high voice call out.

“Clyde? Where are you–” Mellie looked confused, her eyes following the lanky, dark-haired figure racing out of the cafeteria, leaving his lunch tray deserted in line next to you. Her gaze hardened as she looked over at you and the two girls in line. She stomped over, arms crossed.

“What did you say to him?” She demanded, looking between you three. When no one spoke up, she asked again, louder.

“What did you say to my brother?” She seethed. Heather looked at Quinn, an amused smirk on her face. 

“Oh, you mean Dumbo?” She asked.

“Nothing–we just gave him some beauty advice,” Quinn descended into the same annoying laughter as her friend. 

What happened next was a blur to you. There was a hand in someone’s hair, another pushing someone's shoulder, and the sound of a hand smacking against someone’s face. You were pushed backwards–by who, you didn’t know–and your half-full lunch tray came down on top of you, covering you in scrambled eggs and syrup. Heather screeched like a banshee, and Quinn started crying. A lunch monitor ran over to break it up, and before you knew it, Heather was being sent to the nurse and you and Mellie to the principal’s office. 

Which brings you to now.

You sat, smelling of eggs and syrup, and waiting for your life to end. After a few minutes of silence, you looked to the scrappy, brooding girl next to you. 

“Did you have to hit her?” You asked, breaking the silence. Scoffing, she turned to look at you. 

“Uhm, yeah I had to hit her.” She spat out incredulously. “She was makin’ fun of my big brother. You don’t let people mess around with your kin.” 

“But–” you began before she interrupted you, seemingly not hearing you at all. That was something you’d grow to find out was a habit of hers whenever she talked about something she was passionate about. 

“And I’d do it again, too,” she said, stubbornly. “I don’t care what Mrs. Findlay says. If you ask me, Heather Campbell had it comin’ and needed to be knocked down a few pegs. I’m only sad I got caught.”

Her matter-of-fact made you giggle a little bit. After all, you couldn’t disagree with her; You’d seen Heather and Quinn unleash their wrath before. Many times in the short time you’d been in town. They needed to be put in their place. And you were glad you’d had at least a small part in doing it, even if it did put a target on your back and was bound to make your life hell indefinitely. 

“I am sorry you got involved, though,” Mellie said. “It ain’t fair you got roped into all a’ my trouble-makin’.” 

You chuckled a bit.

“Nah,” you sighed. “Before you walked up, I did say some pretty nasty things to them. I guess I deserved it.”

Mellie, looking surprised at that, snorted.

 “You?” she asked, eyes wide in apparent disbelief. “You said somethin’ to Heather Campbell?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” you asked, brows furrowed. “And yes, I’ll have you know, I did say something to her.”

“Nothin’.”  Mellie said, “it’s just that in all the time you’ve been here, I ain't heard you speak but about two times.”

“I couldn’t let her talk to him like that when he didn’t do nothin’ to deserve it.” You said. “Besides, I was tired of hearin’ her run her mouth all the time and no one sayin’ anything.”

“Well alrighty then.” She said.

 A beat of silence passed, the only sound being the ticking of the clock. Then, “what did you say to her?”

You snorted. 

“I called her brace-face.” You admitted sheepishly. Beside you, Mellie howled in laughter and after a moment, you joined her.

“You know,” she said pensively, smiling at you, all trace of a sour mood gone, “I think we’re gonna be good friends.”

You smiled back at her, the first real one in a while. 

“Me too.” And you meant it. 

Present Day

Your mother’s voice snapped you back to reality. 

“And what about him?” she asked carefully, words thick with meaning. “Does he know you’re comin’ back?”

You sighed. “Mama, why would he know I’m coming back? Why would he care that I’m coming back?”

“Darlin’, I didn’t mean it like that–”

“He didn’t bother telling me when he came back. I had to find out from Mellie, a month after the fact.” You continued, that familiar white-hot feeling in your chest resurfacing. “Besides, I’m sure Mellie mentioned it to him. She’d have to if he’s gonna continue this disappearing act of his.”

“That’s not fair, baby, and you know it.” She scolded, ever the mother. It didn’t matter that you were twenty-five, she’d always put you in your place when it came down to it. “He’s been through a lot.”

“I’m sure he has,” you agreed half-heartedly. 

“And–”

“--Not that I’d know about it! He hasn’t spoken so much as a word to me in years. Not for lack of trying on my part either, you know that mom.”

“I know, baby, I know,” she said. This was a conversation you’d had before. And no matter how many times you did, she’d always brought up the same points. 

And now, Clyde Logan had been home for more than two years, but felt like a ghost. Your family hadn’t heard a thing from him. According to your cousin Zach, Jimmy had wanted to throw a coming-home party for him, but had canceled it last minute. You didn’t know what he was doing now.

You knew better than to ask Mellie about it. She was your best friend, yes, but you wouldn’t put her in that position. You wouldn’t make her choose sides or play middle-man between you and her brother. And she knew better than to bring it up with you, too. She saw her brother’s idiocy, and, more importantly, she saw how hurt you were after all that had happened. 

So, Clyde generally wasn’t brought up between the two of you. Not in great detail, anyway. No matter how much you knew she had to reign herself in over it. Your best friend was a fixer at heart, and that instinct didn’t go away when it came to her best friend and her brother. 

“Let’s just drop it, mom.” You said. “I am not coming home for Clyde Logan, of all people. I’m just happy to be coming home at all.” 

“Well, that makes two of us.” she laughed lightly on the other end. “How far out are you?” she asked.

“I’m about halfway through Indiana right now.”

“Whew,” she whistled. “What a drive.”

You laughed at her sarcasm. “Oh yeah, nothin’ but cornfields for miles. That  is somethin’ I won’t be missing, that’s for sure.”

“Good.” she said, “You’d better get a move-on if you wanna be home before dinner, then. I’ll call your cousins and see who can make it.”

Your heart leapt at the thought of it, seeing the family again. You’d missed living in the same county as them all; Not having to drive hours to hug your grandma, to hear your aunt Nikki’s laugh, or to engage in yet another political conversation with your uncle Mike. 

“That sounds perfect.”

“Alright then. Your Gramma’s gonna be surprised, that’s for sure. And i’m warnin’ you now: She will not be as easily swayed as I am at your comin’ back.”

“Yeah, I know.” You shook your head. “I’ll start preparing my speech now.”

“You better!” She laughed, “I’m gonna let you go, babe. Call your aunts. Love you.”

“Love you too, momma.” You sighed, as the call ended. 

The late May sun shone through the clouds, as you steered off of the freeway to continue south. Toward home. 

- - 

It was well past seven in the evening before everyone left your grandmother’s house—and, I guess, your house too, for now—for dinner. 

It had worked: you’d made it home, finally, and even though your grandmother wasn’t happy with you for returning, she understood why. It’d been too long since you’d been home for more than a week or two. Even longer, if you didn’t count the summers you’d come home during college. 

After Clyde had left for his third tour, things weren’t the same. You always hosted holidays after that, or visited your extended family in Charleston. You’d missed your hometown, yes. But the pain you felt at how you and Clyde left things hurt you more. Only now, after six months of therapy and the terrifying possibility that your grandmother was dying, did you feel even remotely comfortable enough to come back. 

Now, after a long, loud meal with your extended family, you wondered why you’d left at all. The anxiety you’d felt driving into the county limits earlier that evening had dissipated. Home has a funny way of doing that: letting you ease right back in like you’d never left. 

Your cousins were getting bigger—now nearly teenagers—and your aunts inquired about your personal life over dinner. Now, after the coffee had gone cold and your last relative had gone home, you helped your grandmother with the dishes—much to her chagrin. 

Your grandmother was a kind woman, a gentle woman, but she was also a proud woman, and more stubborn than even you.

“Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean I’m inept, you know,” she slapped your hand away from where it had tried to venture into the soapy water of the sink. 

You sighed. So she’s still mad. 

“I know, Gramma,” you offered. “Just trying to help.”

She grumbled back, still focusing on scrubbing the plate in front of her. 

You gave up, moving instead to dry and put away the dishes she’d washed. As you began, she didn’t so much as spare you a glance, just hummed under her breath. 

The kitchen looked untouched from it had been growing up—the linoleum counters, tiled walls, and deep wood of the cabinets perpetually stuck in the 1970s. Some of the glassware your grandmother owned was from the seventies, or even before then, going back to when your mom and uncles were kids. You could tell from old family pictures that the house had changed little since they bought it in 1969. Even after so many years, your Gramma had refused to invest in a dishwasher, insisting on washing dishes by hand instead. 

You took a ceramic plate from the drying rack, toweling it off before opening the cabinet to put it away. The cabinet door had the same creak it always did. 

“You know,” you tossed over your shoulder at your grandmother. “I was planning on coming back for a while before I heard about the cancer.” 

“That’s what you keep sayin’,” she mumbled. “I can see right through ya, though, darlin’. You think I haven’t noticed you haven’t been home in years?” 

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the pang of guilt her words sent through you. 

“I’m sorry about that, Gramma, I am—“

“Oh, hush,” she waved a suds-covered hand at you, still not turning around. “Long as I get to see you, I don’t care where it is. What I’m trying to say is: you certainly would not have come home had it not been for my diagnosis.” 

You deflated a little; in a sense, she was right. You’d been considering returning before, that was true, but part of you deep down knew you wouldn’t have been successful if you hadn’t heard about her sickness. 

“What I can’t live with is you giving up your dreams for an old woman like me.”

You scoffed at that, coming up behind her and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. 

“Please,” you mumbled into the hug. “You couldn’t have kept me away. I would’ve found out at some point.” 

She sighed, hugging you back and leaning into you. 

“‘Suppose you’re right,” she acquiesced. “Doesn’t mean I’ve gotta be happy about it though.” 

“That’s fair,” you chuckled, letting go and taking another plate from the drying rack. “But you can’t get mad at me. It should be me angry at you for keeping it from me for as long as you did.”

She turned to you then, wiping her wet hands off with a towel. There was a strange look in her eyes as she took you in, eyeing you head to toe. She snapped out of it after a moment and offered you a smile. 

“Hm,” she hummed, bringing a weathered hand to cup your cheek. “I couldn’t stay angry at you even if I tried.”

You smiled cheekily at her. 

“I know.”

“Hm,” she chuckled, pinching your cheek lightly and patting it. “Now let me finish these up. Mellie’ll be here soon and you haven’t even taken your suitcase up yet.”

You nodded and put the last plate away. 

“I’ll turn the radio on for you,” you smiled. “It’s too quiet around here.”

“Alright sugar,” she tossed over her shoulder. “You won’t be sayin’ that come Monday. I’ve got your cousins after school most weekdays. And I thought you were a handful.” 

You chuckled. 

One thing about your family was true: none of you were boring—especially the little ones. They kept your grandmother on her toes. 

“I’m looking forward to that,” you chuckled. That was another thing you regretted about moving so far away: not being there to watch your little cousins grow up.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said. “You might be reconsidering moving back after a few days.”

“Unlikely,” you snorted. “I’m hard to scare off. Well, now anyway.”

Your grandmother sent you a sympathetic smile then, and you knew she’d forgiven you. You twitched a little under her gaze. She almost looked like she pitied you. You understood if she did; she was the one to bear the brunt of your heartache when everything between you and Clyde had blown up. Still, it wasn’t a time you liked to dwell on. 

“So, you think you’re finally over that Logan boy?” She asked, crossing her arms and facing you.

You sighed; it was just like your grandmother to not mince words or beat around the bush.

“Jesus, Gramma,” you raked a hand over your face. 

“What?” she asked defensively. “Would you rather me tip-toe around you like everyone else? Your mama won’t ask, and you’ve banned Mellie from mentioning that boy.”

“So you thought you’d…” your words trailed off, not understanding exactly why she was bringing this up now. 

“I thought I’d mention the elephant in the room. Call it curiosity, sugar,” she smirked at you. “I just figured that since he was the one that kept you away for so long—”

“Gramma, you know he’s not the only reason l left—”

“I know, I know,” she held up a hand to stop you. “But I remember how you were when you left. In the months before. Barely leaving the house, not talking to anyone. Whatever he did, it did a number on you. I don’t want you getting like that again—”

You softened. She was worried about you, of course she was. Your grandmother was nothing if not a mama bear. 

“Trust me, Gramma. You do not have to worry Clyde Logan of all people. I’ve been over it for a while, I think. I’ll be okay.”

“Hm,” she scrutinized you through narrowed eyes, before nodding. “Alright. I won’t bring it up again.”

“Thanks, Gramma.”

“You ever gonna tell me all that happened with him?” 

“Maybe one day,” you smiled at her sadly. 

She nodded at you in understanding. 

“Alright, babydoll. You go get ready.”

As you walked up the familiar steps to your childhood bedroom, listening to Patsy Cline drift through the old kitchen radio, you smiled to yourself at the familiarity of it all.

- - 

“Trust me,” Camila grabbed your shoulder from the back of Mellie’s ‘85 silverado—her pride and joy and newest fixer upper. “This place is great, and it helps that we don’t have to drive all the way to Madison like we did back in the day.”

You snorted at how your friends were trying to sell you on this new dive bar. Where you’d wanted to go out in Madison like the old days, they’d insisted you stay local tonight.

You shifted in the denim cut-offs that Mellie had insisted you wear. You hadn’t worn them out since your senior year of college. Hell, you hadn’t been out since your senior year of college.

She’d showed up at your door at exactly eight o’clock on the dot, intent on getting you dolled up for a night out. Camila and Gwen, two of your best friends from high school, had shown up soon after. It was like old times—playing your old CDs, the smell of cheap perfume and hair-straighteners flooding your childhood bedroom. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be nervous about going out. Now, two hours later with a new outfit and your hair and makeup done to perfection, you were off to check out the newest haunt in town. 

It’d been big news when the place had opened about nine months ago. It wasn’t every day that a new business opened in Logan, so obviously it was the talk of the town. Even you’d heard about it all the way in Chicago. Duck Tape was its name and it had been renovated into a bar from an old bait and tackle shop. And apparently, since its opening, it’d become a staple of your small community. You’d been promised that you’d run into at least five people from high school here, maybe more. It was also in the middle of nowhere. 

“We’re basically driving the same distance, Cami.” You laughed. From beside you in the driver’s seat, Mellie smirked. 

“Don’t rain on her parade.” She teased. “Cami’s just trying to explain away the real reason why she came here: she’s got it bad for the bouncer.”

Camila gasped and smacked Mellie’s shoulder. 

“That isn’t it at all, Mellie Logan and you know it!”

“Mmhm,” Gwen nodded from the other side of her, very obviously not buying any of it. “It has nothing to do with the six-feet, tall, dark, and handsome bouncer. I believe you, Cami.”

You laughed at her sarcasm. 

“I don’t know why you don’t put yourself out of your misery and just get his number,” Mellie asks from the front seat, looking at Cami through the rearview mirror. 

“And risk rejection? Not a chance.”

You snorted at that, understanding completely. You’d had a few non-serious relationships here and there, but nothing that had stuck during your time in Chicago. And even then, they were alway the ones who had to make the first move. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” you interrupted. “Since when do any of these places need bouncers?”

When you were in high school, it was a given that no one underage would even try to get into a bar in Logan. It would have been pointless: everybody knew everybody here, so even if you had the good sense to get a fake ID, you’d be at the sheriff’s station before you had time to order your first drink.

“Since these kids are gettin’ more and more ballsy,” Gwen answered you. “‘Bout a year ago coach Garrison’s kid got busted for drinking underage at Tulman’s. Ever since, they’ve been IDing at the door.”

Tulman’s was the other bar in town, nestled in the heart of downtown. 

“I bet coach was pissed.”

“You have no idea,” Cami nodded, picking at her manicured nail. “Gave hell to the guy who owns the place. That’s just another reason why I like Duck Tape better.”

Gwen groaned from beside her. Mellie just laughed. 

Mellie sighed beside you, reaching for the gear-shift. “Just ask him out. You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.”

“Oh please,” Cami laughed, speaking up over the sound of Garth Brooks’ voice coming from the speakers. “Stick to hairdressing, Mel. You’d make a shit motivational speaker.” 

A chorus of laughs sounded as Mellie took a sharp turn off of the highway and onto the mountain road where the bar was. 

This was so familiar: you and your girlfriends, all dressed up and piling into one car to go out as if you were somewhere glamorous like New York City and not in Boone County, West Virginia. The chatter of the girls around you was comforting, and you relished in it. 

This, you thought. This is home.

- - 

You dropped your glass when he walked in, brushing past the bouncer with a large hand on his shoulder. Your stomach dropped.

The glass shattered at your feet, sending cranberry juice and vodka splattering over your boots and calves. A few people surrounding you jumped as well, moving away from the shattered glass on the floor. Beside you, Camila started. 

“Jesus,” she cried, grabbing your bare shoulder and looking at you. She was trying to get your attention, you knew, but you couldn’t bring your eyes away from the imposing figure of Clyde Logan, who just walked into the bar. “You okay? What—shit.”

She saw him too. 

“Mellie,” you heard her whisper, trying to get the attention of your friend who was too-busy flirting with a man in a stetson beside you. Gwen was in the bathroom. “Mellie.” 

He was tall—just as tall as he’d always been, but even more imposing. His shoulders stretched broadly across the dark blue button-up he had on. He wore worn blue jeans and work boots and still had that stiff, ramrod-straight posture that he’d come back from basic training with. You blinked. 

He was here. He was here. 

Even after years, he had an effect on you. You felt stuck to the floor, frozen in place as he made his way to the bar, his left side facing away from you. His dark hair was longer than you’d ever seen it, curling around his ears and down his neck thickly. You couldn’t tell much from the dim-lighting, but you could detect a bit of a stubble along his jaw and above his lip. 

Lord have mercy, he was beautiful. 

He was gorgeous–even more so than you remembered him. It made your chest ache.

“What?” Mellie turned to Cami, a flirty laugh in her voice.

“Look.”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke. 

“Fuck.” Mellie spat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. He said he wasn’t working tonight.”

You breathed in a ragged breath, everything feeling all of a sudden too much. The neon lights, the chatter of people from all sides of you invaded your senses. The early summer heat was cloying at your skin in the crowded bar. You felt boxed in on all sides. 

“I’m just going to,” you mumbled, finally tearing your eyes away from Clyde, who was talking to the man behind the bar. You didn’t finish the sentence, instead electing to train your gaze on your boots and try to make your way to the bar door. 

Behind you, you heard Mellie call your name. You ignored her, breathing deeply as you tried to navigate your way to the door. 

Air, you told yourself. I need some air. Then I’ll be fine. 

You tried to push yourself past a particularly large group, squeezing between two peoples’ backs. One of them moved backwards, their foot moving to step in front of yours.

Your boot caught on the foot, and you tumbled forward, losing your balance. 

You tripped, scrambling, reaching out with your arms to break your fall as you tumbled.

Only, instead of continuing to fall to the ground, you stumbled into something. Or rather, someone. 

Your hands landed on a broad chest, and you felt an arm snake its way around your middle, attempting to steady you. You let out a breath, finding your footing. 

You brought your gaze up, an apology on your lips.

“Shit,” you mumbled, pulling your hands back from the stranger’s chest frantically. “I’m sorry—”

Brown eyes stared back at you, brows drawn together and full of confusion. Freckles scattered familiarly across his cheekbones and his lips parted as he looked at you. 

Clyde. 

You took a large step back, away from him, nearly stumbling again. He looked nearly as shocked as you felt, wide eyes taking you in from head to toe. After all, it had been over two years since you’d seen each other. 

You did the same—eyes moving down his thick neck, his broad shoulders, down his chest. He was still so much taller than you.

This was all too much. 

You could feel the panic setting back in your bones, and you blinked rapidly, moving to shove past him to the door, your legs carrying you before your mind could catch up.

When you did, he snapped out of it, moving to the side to block you and shoulder-checking you in the process. When he did, something firm and stiff—foreign—jabbed into your stomach, causing you to jerk away, even more past him.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you turned to see—

What you saw made the breath leave your chest. 

There, strapped to what remained of Clyde’s arm was a prosthetic. 

- - 

Tears fell thick and hot down your cheeks as you rested your face between your knees on the side of the dingy bar. The rough wood of the paneling on the outside of the bar dug into your back through the thin shirt Mellie had convinced you to wear, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your mind was elsewhere.

Gone. Clyde’s left arm was gone–or at least part of it was. 

Hurt flooded your chest at the thought of it; your once-best friend returning home from war, part of him missing, alone, and you weren’t there. He’d had to do it alone.

Another wave of tears came. 

How could you not have known?

Everyone knew everything about everyone in Logan. It was the way of things and it always had been. It was how you’d found out about your Gramma’s illness, it was how word had spread like wildfire when Mellie’s boyfriend in tenth grade cheated on her, and it was how the whole town knew Bobbie Jo was pregnant with Sadie before Jimmy did. But this. 

It struck you all at once; everyone knew. Of course everyone knew. Camila, Gwen, Mellie. Your mother. They all had known and still didn’t tell you. 

You felt like someone had torn your heart from your chest. 

The sound of gravel crunching under boots tore your gaze up. You knew who it was before he called your name. You’d know the sound of his step anywhere. 

Clyde Logan walked toward you, arms clasped behind his back, dark eyes wary. He always looked like this when he was nervous. Even now, you couldn’t believe he was standing before you after so long. Even now, you couldn’t contain the slow simmer of anger that flared in your gut at the sight of him.

He stood there a minute, eyes on yours, before he cleared his throat. 

“How…uh, how long you been back?” He offered softly, eyes never once leaving yours. 

The slow simmer in your gut reached a boil. You stood to your feet, lip curling at him. You didn’t care enough to wipe your face of tears.

“Really?” You asked harshly, voice slightly raised. Clyde flinched at your tone. “That’s what you have to say to me Clyde Logan—after three years?”

Clyde bit his lip and looked down. He sighed. 

“Junebug—-”

“Do not,” you hissed at him, glaring up at his pained expression. “You do not get to call me that anymore.”

He just stared at you, a pained expression on his face. 

It didn't surprise you—Clyde had never had a way with words. Even as kids, even as best friends, it had been hard for him to express himself. He was quiet. Now was no exception. 

“Did you get my letters?” You hated that your voice warbled. 

Clyde’s eyes fell to his boots and you knew the answer from the guilty expression that crossed his face. 

You scoffed, even more anger bubbling inside you at the confirmation. 

After the fight—the one that sent you packing, right before his third deployment, you’d written him. Countless times, apologizing, explaining yourself, begging him for a response, anything. And you’d never heard anything back. 

“I wrote you for months, Clyde.” You said, voice softer now. “When you were over there, I had to get updates from Mellie. Or from my mom, because you wouldn’t write me back. You wouldn’t answer my calls. I didn’t know if you were hurt, or if you—”

You stopped yourself, sniffing. 

You stared at his prosthetic arm, finally able to get a better look at it.

 It began just under his elbow, strapped on there to give the illusion of a full-limb. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. 

“Ugly, ain’t it?” He asked, noting how your stare held there. Your eyes snapped to his. 

You scoffed, ignoring him and looking away. 

“I didn’t say that,” you muttered, drying your face with your palm.

“I told Mellie not to tell you,” he blurted. “After. Made her swear not to. Don’t be mad at her.”

You sighed. 

You weren’t angry at her; you couldn’t be. Shortly after you’d realized he wanted nothing to do with you, you’d made any talk of Clyde strictly off-limits in your friendship. Even if she’d wanted to tell you, it was off limits. That was not the case, however, with your own family.

You’d be having words with your mother and grandmother when you returned home. 

“My relationship with Mellie is none of your business,” you glared up at him. “It hasn’t been for a long time.”

Clyde scoffed now, the soft, reserved look gone from his eyes and replaced by annoyance. 

“What?” you asked. “You got something to say? Say it.”

“Fine,” he barked. “Three years and you haven’t changed a bit.”

Oh, so he was pulling that card, you thought, thinking back to your last argument. You laughed humorlessly. 

“Oh, I haven’t changed?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. “At least I had the balls to come back! At least I’m not a coward like you—”

“Coward?” He asked, voice low. 

“You heard me.” You spat, voice warbling again with anger. You hated that you got like this; whenever you were angry, you’d cry. “At least I have the stones to face my mistakes. I don’t run away from them, Clyde.” 

With that you walked away, leaving him standing there in the gravel of the Duck Tape parking lot. 

He made no move to follow you, thank god. 

You decided to call it a night, knowing any chance of letting loose was long gone. Though you weren’t angry with her, you didn’t think you could face Mellie or the girls again tonight. You pulled your cell phone from your bag and sent a quick text to the group chat, telling them you’d decided to head home. You sent a separate one to Mellie, telling her you weren’t mad at her but you needed some time. 

You walked back to the front of the bar, leaning on the wood of the front railing, and stared at the phone screen. Your mother and grandmother would be asleep by now, and even if they weren’t, you weren’t sure you wanted to see them anyway. You could always call your cousins—but doing that would open up the door to countless questions and speculations at why you were leaving Duck Tape looking an emotional wreck. 

Then, it hit you.

You found the contact easily and hit call; there was one person who you knew you could call whenever, wherever to come get you, no questions asked. You just hoped he was up.

[marshslovedone]

always and forever

➥ 100 follower special ☆

Pairing(s): Polyam South Park boys x Fem!Reader

Specialty: Fluff & oneshot

C/W(s): implied Stan x Craig, Kyle x Tolkien, Stan x Craig x Tweek, Stan x Tweek,

A/N: thank you for 100 followers you guys are so amazing and adorable I love you all so much I hope you enjoy this little thing I have cooked up <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

People always thought you were dating jimmy. Which you were, people saw you two outside of school, kissing, and the rumors hit the school instantly. But once they did people thought the boys, almost the 9 biggest assholes in the town, we’re going to throw a fit about you being with jimmy since people could tell they had a thing for you. But they didn’t, they just held a smile and held sadness in their eyes as they congratulated jimmy. But what people didn’t realize was they weren’t sad because jimmy got to you first. They were sad that people will only know you’re dating just jimmy and not them as well.

You’ve been dating the 10 boys for about 4 years now. ever since 8th grade to senior year of high school. You had a big heart, the boys knew that, they knew you always wanted to just love not one person but many, they knew how much love was in you based on how long they knew you. they all had a crush on you for so long and once 8th grade hit along with puberty and hormones. They saw how puberty hit you and they all knew they had to seal the deal with you and they all agreed to be in a poly relationship with you. The sigh of relief they felt when you felt the same made them feel so good. Balancing your time and love for each of the boys took a lot to master but you got it instantly. each boy usually has a day with just you to yourself and then group hang outs.

They all get jealous really easily and freak out in private when they overhear your friends or someone saying they asked you out. It wasn’t a secret that the whole school, town matter in fact knew you were polyamorous and had a lot of love in your heart. Many people were supportive but then there are others who don’t agree what you think but don’t shove it down your throat. So when people saw you with just jimmy people were surprised. But then again polyam relationships take a lot of communication and time so they just thought you and jimmy were talking about it. Boy were they all were wrong.

“I still can’t believe you and jimmy got caught. Weren’t you two just on a date in the mall?” Kyle said as he sat next to you under the tree behind the school. The other boys soon follow as they sat around kinda in a big circle. “Well yeah and what I thought was secluded, I kissed him, but I guess bebe and red saw and told everyone.” I sighed leaning on his shoulder which kyle smiled and kissed the top of my head which made me smile. After that action I soon felt weight on me which I saw clyde and Kenny on top of me. “Y/N!!! I missed you!!” Clyde smiled as he kissed my right cheek as Kenny did the same with my left cheek. “I missed you too Y/N!! Class was so morning I miss having classes with you..” Kenny said as he kept kissing my left cheek. “okay you guys need to get up, you’re going to suffocate her” Tolkien soon got to the tree sitting next to kyle, who soon gave a book back to him as Tolkien soon held the ginger’s hand. “Aw you’re no fun Tolkien!! I’m just showing love to my girlfriend!!” Clyde whined as he got off on the girl who had a red face. “our girlfriend, clyde, she’s not just yours.” Craig said as he dragged Clyde and Kenny by their arms to move so he can sit next to the (H/C) hair girl. “yeah, she’s ours too! not just yours” stan grunted as he sat next to craig, which soon stan leaned on his shoulder which Craig sneakily wrapped his around around Stan’s waist. “God damnit butters you need to move faster! You’re ass was so slow in line I couldn’t get nachos in time” cartman soon arrived as he kept throwing small balls of paper at butters as jimmy was with them giggling at the scene. “Well I’m sorry! I could t decide what to eat..” butters soon sighed sitting down across from Kyle. “Y-you did take y-y-your time, I was l-l-lucky enough to get f-food” jimmy said as tweek who was behind jimmy all this time helped jimmy sit down on the grass. “Y-yeah butters! Don’t forget we’re supposed to be quick w-with lunch so we can come behind the school!” Tweek twitches as he sat next to Stan, which Stan smiled soon grabbing the blonde boys twitching hand. “How do all of you guys manage to be so noisy when coming here” Kyle rubbed his forehead in annoyance as each boy came to the tree behind the school loudly. “I’m just surprised they didn’t get caught by the staff of the students.” Y/N soon chuckled as she relaxed more on Kyle’s side.

“Sorry, we’re just excited you know! All of us don’t get privacy at the school so we can’t act how we are now when in the cafeteria!” Clyde soon said as he sat down next to cartman, Kenny sitting on Clyde’s other side. “Yeah! We can’t even talk about hangouts without people turning their heads! Ever since the town found out Y/N is polyamorous, people have been looking at Y/N when she wants to hang out with friends” Kenny added to Clyde’s words. Soon each boy looked at Y/N who was eating her food. She soon looked at them putting her hands up in defense. “Hey! Don’t give me a look I never meant to for people to find out, the only people who knew were the 10 of you and wendy” Y/N continued eating right after. Each boy looked at each other before cartman soon said something. “well maybe you shouldn’t have blabbered your mouth to wendy she probably spread it” “she did not! She’s been my best friend since day one!! She would never!!” Y/N yelled back before throwing her juice box at cartman who yelled out.

Y/N soon stared at each of the boys who soon started talking about more and more about how people found out and soon other things like school, after school clubs, and more. Y/N soon smiled as she watched the boys interact and not at each other’s necks like usual. Y/N knew they were all secured and safe. Nobody in this town besides Y/N’s parents would know. Yeah everything would be okay.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[tiniedemon]

— ♡

the waiting game | masterlist

completed

kyle broflovski / reader | smau

desc | the friend group had been around since elementary school, sharing an unbreakable bond. they were bonded by time itself, and it seemed as though they’d never split. that is, until feelings start arising and conflict begins. all because kyle and y/n couldn’t get over a crush they’d shared since high school.

cws | substance abuse, past child abuse, unrequited love, trauma, unhealthy coping, feminism, violence

gal pals | instagrams . twitters

the bros | instagrams . twitters

PARTS | one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen

extras | one two

nsfw special

spotify playlist . apple music playlist

apps used | photonote, memi message, twinotes, pinterest

hint: search “character status” to see what the characters are up to!

— ♡

[greenxgloss]

School Dance (Charlie Walker) NSFW

Tags: @wildathevrt @romanroyapoligist @444rockstargf @nevvdrinksteaa @hxllhxund @urmomsucksfrogs

Summary: you decide to go to the school dance with high expectations that weren't met until you left with School Cinema Nerd, Charlie Walker.

Warnings: NSFW, unprotected p in v, fingering, male receiving oral, praising, drug use, and I think that's it!

the school dance was moving slower than a fucking car without a battery and you were just about ready to leave until you spotted Charlie standing alone in the back of the gym. you approached him, curious as to why he was even here. usually, school dances weren’t his scene. parties, gatherings with lots of alcohol sure.. but school dances?? too tame for the cinema junkie.

“Charlie Walker.” you spoke matter of factly. “y/n?” he uttered, confused. “didn’t think school dances were your thing.” you told him as you leaned against the wall next to him and scanned the gym. “they’re not in all honesty. this one certainly isn’t.” he sighed, tossing his cup out in the nearest garbage can. “so why come? I thought if someone wasn't puking their guts out in a fern it wasn't the Charlie Walker scene.” you asked him, averting your gaze towards him. “I was hoping I was missing something about dances. I don’t know I got my hopes up I guess, but this totally bummed me out.” he answered, shifting in place, unable to laugh at my joke.

you both stood quiet for a moment. he looked over at you before looking back at the crowd. “you look good tonight.” he tried to sound confident but the nervousness slipped through. “thanks, nerd. has anyone spiked the punch yet?” you asked, crossing your arm across your chest. “not that I’ve heard. I should have known tonight was gonna be a dud when not even Robbie wanted to come.” he said and began walking out. you watched him and decided to follow him out. “wanna come to the woods with me and smoke?” you suggested, flashing the joint in your purse. he nodded. “thank god.” his eyes lit up.

when the two of you were far enough from civilization you took a seat on a log and began lighting the joint. “y/n to the rescue huh?” you said while concentrating on the lighter. "I'm definitely the final girl right now." he said causing you both to giggle. “I’m hoping this makes my night at least a little better.” he said, taking it from your hand and taking a drag. “so why were you at the dance?” he asked, handing the joint back to you. “uhh okay this might sound embarrassing but I thought I could help make the dance a little more exciting.. but I swear the school gym’s atmosphere refuses to let people let loose..” you giggled, taking a few hits and tapping out the ash.

when the weed began taking its effects the both of you just stared at each other, letting a giggle slip through every once in a while. “fuck I love weed.” you said, leaning on Charlie causing him to erupt into laughter. “you act like you’ve never smoked before.” he said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his dress pants. “no I’ve been smoking for a while now I just like to appreciate the weed.” you smiled blissfully. "I suppose that makes sense for you." he lit a cigarette and took a drag before offering it to you. you took up the offer and puffed. “you know Charlie... I’ve always thought you were cute. that nerdy thing is really working for you.” you said as you handed him the cigarette. “yeah? i guess the feelings mutual.” he smiled.

you leaned in and kissed him. “ever had sex before, nerd?” you whispered. he smiled “Not yet no.” he answered bashfully. “do you want to?” you asked as you straddled him. he nodded frantically. “i- just don’t know what to do.” he admitted, sheepishly. “touch me wherever you want, nerdy boy.” you said as you began placing wet kisses on his neck. you took in the smell of his cologne that caused you to soak your panties. he roughly shoved a hand under your dress. “gentle. you’re going to hurt me.” you whispered as you caught his hand. “mhm.” he uttered, melting under your lips. “touch me here.” you directed him to your clit and he began rubbing slow circles. “that’s it just like that. you smell so good Charlie.” you tell him, stifling your moans.

he slipped a finger into your cunt and curled it while he pressed his thumb to your clit. “you’re doing so good Charlie.” you told him as your grip on the back of his neck tightened. your lips now an inch away as you both breathed heavily. “I really need you.” you said as you stood up to unbutton his pants. “I’ve been waiting for this for like ever.” he laughed, in shock as he watched you softly pull his dick out of his pants and slowly slip it in your heat where his fingers once were. “yeah? you dream about fucking me?” you asked the nerd as you watched his brain shortcircuit. “always.” he fought the words out. “fuck I’m so horny for you Charlie.” you let out as you grind your hips down, feeling the gentle movements of him inside you, filling you up perfectly. "I wish you'd said something sooner." he managed out between low groans.

“I think I’m close Charlie.” you spit the words out as you clenched around him, your body spasming lightly at every thrust. “cum for me?” he whispered as he gripped your hips. As you felt yourself chasing your orgasm Charlie began to talk you through it. “shhh baby it’s okay yeah cum all over me.” he muttered sweetly, leaving kisses all over your cleavage, lewd sounds of your skin slapping together. your moans staggered as you collapsed on him. “fuck, walker.. that might have been the best dick I’ve ever had.” you joked as he rubbed your back. “I’m not finished, y/n.” he spoke as he helped you stand up and guided you to your knees. “suck me off baby.” he growled and you listened, kissing up his shaft and wrapping your lips around his cock and maintaining eye contact. “you look so pretty sucking my cock like that, princess.” he caressed your face.

you began deep-throating his length, gagging and gargling, sending shivers through his body. "yeah just like that." he moaned, his head flying back. "fuck." he let out before shooting hot ropes of cum down your throat, swallowing every drop before standing up and kissing him. "I guess you knew what you were doing after all?" you said, licking the slick off your lips. "porn is a thing, y/n... I improvised.. anyway I'd really like to improvise again yeah?" he said before you both gathered your things and walked out of the woods together. "yeah... I'd like that."

A/N: i hope you guys liked this one lol I've noticed that I haven't really gotten many fics on my timeline and that topped with like 4 people saying their rory obsession was over lowkey sad so here you go sillies

[kira-broflovski]

Green-Eyed Monster || Eric Cartman x Reader

note: characters are in high school + there's a lot more swearing

Eric Cartman. He's known as South Park's resident bastard, thanks to his constant scheming of and his inability to comprehend the fact he can't always get his way. Due to the way he is, barely anyone likes him. If at all.

Y/N L/N. You're amongst the sweetest students at school, always willing to help someone and always finding the good in people. Most people adored you, others were just envious they couldn't be like you.

Your peers often wished they were you, however they realised that maybe they didn't want to be you when you started dating Eric. If anything, they wondered if you were okay.

That was only the beginning of the story.

"Seriously, how have you and Y/N lasted longer than Stan and Wendy?" Tolkien laughed from across the table, Stan shooting him an offended glare while the rest of the boys laughed.

"Y/N isn't as shallow as Wendy," Kyle scoffed while poking at his food.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Stan fired.

"I- Jesus Christ. I'm not even going to bother explaining."

"No, please do."

"It means Y/N's not a slut, despite her q-questionable choices." Jimmy jumped in before Kyle could say anything to Stan.

The rest of the table stared between them, the tension was radiating furiously off them. Breaking the tension, however, Kenny made a comment on how he'd like to slut you out. Of course, Clyde agreed.

"Guys, do you ever shut the fuck up!?" Eric finally snapped, hating the way the guys talked about you like you were a piece of meat. Who the hell do they think they are?

Tweek decided to break the sudden silence by asking, "speaking of Y/N. Has anyone seen her? I mean she's not sat with the girls like she usually is.

Everyone turned to look at the seat where you usually sat, and sure enough you weren't there. They then turned to look at Eric, waiting for the reason for your absence.

It was a couple minutes of silence, before he just said, "what?"

"Well, where is she fatass?" Kyle questioned expectantly.

"Boys, you're so immature." He rolled his eyes as if he could say anything about maturity. "My girlfriend, Y/N, has her own life y'know? I guess I can't expect any of you to understand, considering how horrible you are with women." He shot a look between Stan and Tolkien, before looking down at his phone.

They all groaned and rolled their eyes at Eric's hypocritical speech.

After a few minutes, Eric suddenly stood up and made his way outside. When he was out of sight he picked up the pace. What the hell were you doing outside?

Dramatically, he pushed the doors open with so much force they slammed against the exterior. He scanned anywhere he could look to see where you were, only to spot you sat on a bench.

Who the hell was sat with you? Who thought they were more important than your lunch? Who do they think they are!?

He tried to act casual as he stormed over.

Of course.

The person that sat next to you was your mutual friend, Butters, the only guy that didn't make jokes about your relationship with Eric.

You've been spending a lot of time with him, naturally making your boyfriend jealous and he's had enough.

"Y/N."

"Oh, hey babe." You looked up at boyfriend, a little annoyed he interrupted your friend.

"We need to talk." Eric got straight to the point, glaring at the confused blonde boy next to you. He stood there waiting for him to leave, but he didn't get the hint so there was an awkward silence. "Butters-"

"Yeah?" He smiled up at Eric.

"Fuck off for a second."

"Oh, okay." He was also a little mad that your conversation was cut short, but he let it go.

"He's not a mind reader, y'know?" You rolled your eyes.

"Don't defend that asshole."

"Butters is not an asshole, Eric." You turned to face him, enraged. "If anything, you're the asshole for being so mean to him all the time."

"Why the fuck are you defending him, Y/N? It is the last thing I wanna hear right now." He exploded.

"He's my friend! I've been friends with him longer than we've even known each other, why wouldn't I defend him?"

Eric was fuming. He couldn't believe you couldn't see why he was being so mean to Butters, especially recently.

You didn't get a response, so your shoulders dropped and you took a deep breath. "Whatever. What did you want to talk about anyways?"

"Butters."

"Oh, for fuck sake—" you said while you stood up to walk away, but he grabbed your hand.

"Y/N just hear me out."

Whipping your head around, you shot him a furious look.

"Please." He sighed. You remained standing, but you turned your whole body to face him.

"What is it?"

"You've been spending so much time with him, and I hate it! Why is he suddenly getting all of your attention? And why am I not getting any?" He rambled with desperation seeping through his words.

That's when it hit you.

"Eric... are you jealous?" You mumbled in realisation.

"Why would I be jealous of that girlfriend-stealing motherfucker?" He folded his arms and looked away, immediately confirming your suspicion.

You sat back down next to him.

"Jesus Christ." You sighed. "He's been asking me to help him with a girl he likes in his science class.

"What?"

"He's not going after me, and he's not trying to ruin your life so calm down with the accusations." You put your hand over his, so he looked back at you.

"But... how do you feel?" He was afraid to hear the answer, he's never had anyone like you in his life.

"About Butters?"

"Yeah." His voice was soft, finally showing his vulnerable side.

"I see him like a child; a little brother. We're just friends and it'll continue to stay that way, you have nothing to worry about."

You could almost see the worries fading away from his eyes, his anger finally subsiding now that he voiced his jealousy problem.

"Well, good. You're still mine." Eric laughed, trying to put his defensive front back up.

"Of course I am, Eric." A genuine smile broke out on your face. He was unable to resist mirroring the smile.

"Do you wanna continue your conversation with him?"

"I'll just call him when I get home." You shrugged before standing up. "C'mon, let's go get lunch."

[mrs-gucci]

By The Fire ~ Clyde Logan x fem!Reader

Hello Mrs Gucci!! :) i was wondering if i could request Clyde Logan snowy day smut! something along the lines of soft love making in winter next to a warm fireplace? Thank u! <3

thanks for this request, I’m happy to be back writing for adam characters again!!

warnings. SMUT (18+), fluff, soft sex, just a sprinkle of very mild dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex, premature ejaculation (a lil bit), creampie, taking clyde’s *generous* load

word count: 673

You’re so, so glad that you splurged and got the white silky fur lingerie set for your winter weekend getaway with Clyde because it’s totally paying off right now.

As soon as Clyde came downstairs and saw you sprawled out on the rug by the fire in your pretty outfit, he was pouncing, quickly taking his prosthetic off before climbing between your legs. His lips press against yours, hips pressing forward to grind against your warm center.

“Fuck, darlin’, when’d ya get this little getup?” Clyde breathes, wishing nothing more than to be able to touch you right now. “Ya look so beautiful, all laid out in front’a the fire for me...”

You smile, kissing him again. “Got it for you, Clyde, wanted to surprise you.”

The corners of his mouth tug up in a small smile as he reaches down to undo his pants. He’s already so hard for you, length pressing desperately against the crotch of his jeans.

“Is this what ya wanted?” he asks, nudging his cock against your entrance. “Is this what ya wanted when ya put this lingerie on and laid yourself out like this?”

“Yes, baby, please...”

He needs no further invitation, slowly pushing his slick-coated head into your waiting wetness, following that up with the rest of his long, thick length. Your back arches up off the plush carpet and you gasp, insides stretching to take all of him.

“C-Christ Almighty,” he groans shakily, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “Shit, you’re tight, darlin’.”

“Oh, Clyde...”

You let out a soft moan, looking up at him as he begins to roll his hips, starting relatively slowly. Your hands reach up to caress his face and run through his wavy hair, feeling the way he steadily relaxes with each of your touches.

As much as you love the usual quick and dirty sex, sometimes this slow lovemaking is exactly what you two need. Today is one of those days. The slow and sensual really hits the spot.

Clyde looks down at you, breathing shaky and hips start moving slightly faster when he feels you clench around him. He could cry, this is such a beautiful moment that the two of you are sharing and he often wonders how the hell he managed to have gotten such a beautiful, wonderful lady.

“It feels so good, Clyde,” you say softly, pulling him down for a kiss. “You feel so good.”

His jaw clenches, eyebrows beginning to knit in pleasure as his climax grows nearer and nearer. “Ya feel g-good too, m’ darlin’. I love ya so much, love that I get to have ya in this way.”

You offer him a small smile, kissing him again and again, your orgasm on the horizon. Your hand slips down your abdomen and between your legs, just above where your two bodies are joining. 

Clyde lets out a low moan when you start rubbing your stiff clit, which is causing your insides to grip him even tighter. He’s not sure how much longer he can hold on...

“O-Oh!” he gasps, suddenly reaching his peak without any warning, hips rutting into you as he fills you with his seed. “Oh god, m’ darlin’...”

Seeing and feeling your beloved reach his release brings you to your own only moments later, letting out a soft cry of his name as you ride the wave. You smile up at him, holding his face in your hands while both of you catch your breaths.

“I love you so much,” you whisper, thumb sliding over his cheekbone. “So, so freakin’ much.”

Clyde’s smile widens with your words. “I love ya more.”

When your head rolls to the side, you gasp quietly.

“Baby, look!” You point to the window, where big white flakes have begun to fall. “Looks like we’ll have a snowy weekend after all.”

He hums, looking out the window along with you. “Must’ve been some pretty magical sex we just had, hm?”

You laugh, giving him a nudge with your knee before kissing him again.

“Weirdo.”

let me know if you’d like me to start tagging my taglist peeps again!

[sundaepoppy]

Helloooo!! Can i request Romantic! Clyde x Hellspawn! reader? Like, the reader can posses items and teases Clyde by doing that?

Clyde with a hellspawn s/o🌀😵‍💫💫🥴

Genre: Romantic

Warnings: Possession. (Slight spoilers, if you hadn't already read Hellpark)

Gender: Neutral

❤️ Clyde Donovan 💦

Poor guy, he got possessed by Estella before and now he's getting possessed by you 🥲

He never actually thought he would be dating a dem- I mean hellspawn before ever since hell broke out with them playing with the ouija board.

He secretly thinks it's cool to be dating a hellspawn (that doesn't try to hurt or kill him of course ^^)

You'd protect Clyde from the other Imps and Hellspawns. He's precious to you and you ain't letting the others hurt him❤️

He'd be embarrassed if you possess his body and make him do silly stuff. (Like making him sing cupcake while wearing a princess dress)

He almost pissed himself when he first saw a floating tree in front of his house and he didn't know it was you that was possessing that tree.

You love Clyde for him, so you don't mind him being a crybaby and he's thankful for that.

You'd give Clyde cuddles afterwards if he had a rough day. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Bfndjdhdkdbsjdkhdhdkdbejsksmms

[jewbeloved]

Hey!! If you don't mind, Can you do Tolkien, Clyde, and Kyle with a reader who loves to garden and makes flower crowns for their s/o? If you've already done that, then Tolkien, Clyde, and Kyle with a reader who rambles about something they're fixated on without realizing it?

It would be great if you did my request<3!(I have been reading your work for quite some time now and I love your work sm!!)

Token, Clyde, and Kyle with a s/o who likes to make flower crowns💐💐💐💖

Warnings: None

Gender: Neutral

💜 Token Black 💰

He knew that you loved gardening, but he never knew that you also make flower crowns until you gave one to him as a gift.

Gotta say, his face is completely red when you put the flower crown onto his head. It's not often you see people being really generous with him and you're just making his day better.

He would also love to make flower crowns with you, his love language is also quality time with the people he really cares about so he wants to spend as much time with you.

Him wearing the flower crown might lead to him getting teased by his friends, but he doesn't pay attention to them and just enjoy the wonderful gift that was given to him by his s/o.

His parents are head-heels over you. They love how you make their son so happy after he spends time with you. You also even have his parents flower crowns as well and they appreciate the gift.

Overall, Token loves your flower crowns!💜💜💜

❤️ Clyde Donovan 🌮

He will probably brag to everyone no matter what gift he gets from his s/o. But we all know that he is a blushing mess whenever he receives gifts like a flower crown from you.

If he wears that flower crown at school he will be so embarrassed about it, but he will continue to wear it just to make you happy.

If you offer to teach him how to make flower crowns, he will hesitate at first but accepts the offer anyways.

After some time, it seems like Clyde has found something to help him pass his free time and boredom, making flower crowns!

You even see some flower crowns hanging on his wall in his bedroom. (Wow, I guess he really enjoys this a lot)

This boy could careless what others think of him, he's still the same old Clyde except he's now into making flower crowns with you!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

💚 Kyle Broflovski 💐

Gotta admit, Kyle finds it really cute that you like to make flower crowns, let alone offering one to him.

He would rather not wear one on his head, but he wouldn't mind wearing ones on his neck or wrist.

He will help you make flower crowns as well, but he probably might not be very good at all and his end up looking wonky- he's still trying his best!

He would also be amazed at how well done and organized your garden is if you show it to him. Looking at all those flowers, plants, fruits, etc. That you grew makes Kyle want to stare at your garden all day tbh.

If you actually do manage to get him to wear a flower crown on his head, he would've had to take off his hat in order to wear and he doesn't like that.

*Kyle groans at the fact of his hair showing out while he wears the flower crown*

"Aw come on Kyle, you don't have to take off your hat to wear you silly goose!".

"Hmmph!", Kyle turned away from you with his cheeks being red.

"Angy boi", You giggled at him before pulling him into a warm hug.💚💚💚💚💚💚

Kyle Jewflovski