#and so will all the weeds you cut down for absolutely no fucking reason

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 4

Propaganda

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show

We didn’t do hot Glenn summer for him to LOSE. Spoilers for his story but MORE PROPAGANDA FOR YOU:

Young hot rocker dilf

Loyal to his dead wife <3

Does in fact smoke weed

BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)

His band was a Christmas cover band btw.

Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy

Anti government (ofc)

Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)

Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??

Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch

One incredibly buff arm

Has a pet rat named after his son <3

Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged

OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE

HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON

A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)

HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS

IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED

Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence

Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!

I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.

Listen, I don't know this other character but I've seem some good arguments for her However Consider Glenn Close winning through no effort of his own in a bullshit way despite being a dick is the most in character thing ever. He leveled up three times and got a crab mech, we GOT to give him this win, it's fitting

I don’t regulate if minors follow me or not bc I’m a pretty chill space but I hope the world is aware that’s the only reason I haven’t been downright nasty about Glenn close. I’m down bad. I’m NOT in the boat of ‘Glenn isn’t sexy but I want him to win bc it’s my fandom’. I would estimate I have 200+ drawings of Glenn on my phone that AREN’T safe for work. Way more that are. Where did they come from? That’s MY business. But I tell you this fact to assure you- Glenn IS sexy. I’m not voting to represent my fandom I’m voting out of TRUTH AND LOVE. IF YOU DON’T GET IT YOU DON’T GET IT!!! I just think my level of feral over this man is more powerful than y’all realize. If you don’t get his sex appeal that’s okay, but don’t doubt that this is my truth.

Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so

HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. Do you think pickman needs this to feel good about herself? Can she not accept a loss for the sake of a pathetic father? Can she shake hands with the minivan fucker and his human gun and just take the L on this one? He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.

Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.

Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.

Lup (The Adventure Zone: Balance):

Is somehow the hot twin between her and Taako

Lup Bluejeans (née... Taaco? Tacco? Taco? Tako? who tf knows this is why I'm going with her husband's last name. doylistly she gets her last name from her brother whose last name is given as "Taako again but spelled differently"): Hot, funny, smart and undead. Is there anything else you could want in a woman?? Well, in case there is: she's also canonically trans

LUP IS THE HOTTEST. VOTE LUP.

[sincerlycas]

try me.

summary: y/n’s mouth has no filter, so when she decides to publicly embarrass eren at a party, he doesn’t take it lightly.

warnings: brat y/n, bad bitch black reader, hair pulling, choking, humiliation, degradation, rough sex, slight hate fucking, spitting, 69 position, spanking, slapping, marking, drugs (I say za instead of weed and shit), mature scenes, etc.

commission for: @purfi-art 🤍

don’t forget to dm me for commissions <3

you were bored. absolutely fucking bored. there was literally no reason for you to be at this party, yeah you danced and shook ass to bop ass songs then took a drink but that’s about it. matter of fact, the only reason you here was because of your bum ass nigga eren. he was here to support and supply his friend with the za. sitting down on the seat while fixing your crop top that was holding your well sat boobs. eren was nowhere in sight, actually he was but you preferred to not look at him since he was speaking to a girl in the ear but you knew he was trying to be secretive with selling.

sighing your took a sip of the vodka and moved your copper ginger body wave lace out of the way. finally eren came to sit next to you with his group around you as well. all of them talking about random shit that you didn’t give one fuck, two fucks, any fucks about. one of your friends who came to the party tapped your shoulder and hugged you immediately as she saw you. returning the hug you told her to sit next to you.

she was basically the only person who talked to you the entire party, not even eren spoke a word to you because you know his bitch ass would say “I’m working right now later.” you swear you hated his ass for even dragging you here. while talking to your friend and catching up you felt a grip on your thigh so you looked down to see it was eren. oh so he can touch you and shit but not speak to you? bitch you were done !!

slapping his hand off your thigh with full disrespect as you turned back to talk to your friend. this caused nervous glancing from the group between you and eren but you couldn’t give a fuck. so you decided to let it out and irritate eren by talking about him to your friend when he’s literally next to you. “bro this nigga is so weird, how tf you gone bring me to a party and not even talk or spare me a glance like the fuck?!” eren wasn’t paying attention to you so he didn’t really hear the conversation but some did as he continued talking to jean.

“but he can be all up on girl’s whispering and shit then try to touch me and not say a damn word too?! fuck no nigga you must got me mixed up with another bitch that just stay mute- he must think I’m one of his hoes that’s why.” your friend chuckled as she was nodding and understanding your frustration.

finally eren heard what you were saying as he was drinking from his red solo cup. side eyeing you while giving you a glare was all he did as he set the cup back down. he went to open his mouth to saying something by putting your hand in his face while still looking at your friend. “look at this trick broo” turning your hand from flat to directing your thumb at him to show your friend

“he can sip cups and talk to his friends huh? matter of fact he can go sip on another bitch pussy like I give a fuck that’s his specialty.” now this is what caused the whole entire group you were sitting with to tune into the conversation and stop what you’re doing. eren grabbed your hand that was pointing at him and tugged on it to make you look at him.

“y/n-“ cutting him off before he said anything you turned to face him while putting your long acrylic finger in his face “nigga shut the fuck up ion wanna hear it, was I talking to you? no the hell I wasn’t fuck nigga, speak when you’re spoken to the fuck.” pushing his face away you turned to face your friend again seeing her ‘ouu’.

right when you were going to speak eren turned you to face him forcefully raising his voice in a higher octave but not high enough to cause an disruption to other people. “stop talking out your chest to your friend about me say it to my fucking face since you big a bold.” his group was eyeing you guys quietly. getting up out of his hold and standing over him giving anyone who was in front of him a juicy view of your ass in your cargo shorts.

“you want me to say sum to your face?!” “speak with your chest y/n!!” eren retorted back “alright bitch, your a bum. ass. nigga.” grabbing his drink he was so deliciously sipping on that had very little left and splashed on his face along with the cup. this caused a slight uproar as you got your bag and left.

eren was stunned as he ran his fingers through his hair tugging on it a little out of frustration. wiping his face with his hand he immediately got up speed walking behind. walking outside you went to open his car so you could leave after you snuck his keys since he was your ride. right when you were about to open it you felt a grip in your hair tugging you back harshly. “bitch come here.” eren held your hair as you tried to slap his hands away, he stared at you as he slammed your back against the car door.

“you think you hot shit for fucking embarrassing me bitch?! you really tried me today you ain’t never crossed the line with your bratty ass but today you did- get in the fucking car.” pushing you in the back seat as he put the back doors on child lock and went to the front seat and began speed driving toward the house. “eren let me the fuck out!! drop me off at my friends house!!” kicking at his seat taking your anger out on him. it’s not like you actually wanted him to let you out and turn you away you were just saying anything on top of your head.

on top of that this nigga was driving recklessly. you were screaming with all your might throwing profanities at him and slick remarks. eren was so done with your shit your shit so he screamed back “y/n l/n you better shut the fuck up before I swerve this bitch and kill us both I don’t give no fucks!!” slapping his hands on the steering wheel loudly. you were shocked at his threat but still you didn’t let up if anything you brought your hand to slap him across this face. eren restrained himself as he stayed quiet but that went up in flames when you calmed down and wen on your phone and mumbled a

“I should fucked your friend bro” you said that mostly to piss him off but connie is super fine.

eren finally made it to the house and opened your door and grabbed you and making a hurry to the door, getting inside, then making it to the room throwing you on the bed. taking his wet shirt off and his shoes. “y/n do you want to break up?” asking you that made your heart drop automatically you got on your knees on the bed and started apologizing. “e-eren I’m sorry for acting out, I promise I won’t do it again I swear please” you started tearing up since you’ve been with eren for three years, you couldn’t let him go.

then all you heard was laughing. gradually it got louder and louder. looking at him confused you swiped your tears “w-why are you laughing? what’s so damn funny?!” getting mad again, seriously your temper is short, but yeah you got mad again since he was literally just laughing at you. “you-“ stopping his sentence mid way to laugh again. this caused you to be self cautious and stay quiet. “you look pathetic baby.” walking towards you eren rubbed your face then your cheeks. him calling you pathetic while cooing at you made a sting in your heart out of embarrassment.

“it’s pathetic and dumb looking how you go and cause such a scene like that and embarrass me but once we reach home you’re groveling at me, do better mama.” patting your cheek a bit hard like they were close to being slaps eren backed away to let his words sink in. “ ‘ren..” staring at you while leaning on your guys dresser he tilted his head staring down at you.

“y/n I hope you know I deal with your mess because I love you. If you were to walk away from this relationship you wouldn’t find anyone who could love you like I do. even if you did it wouldn’t last since of how fucking bitchy you are, and if it does last just know I’ll be waiting to fuck it up.” walking back towards you again he choked you making you look up at him “so I’m telling you this with all disrespect, try me.”

you were tearing up even more from his words but the humiliation being even worse, you tried to find the words to say but you just stumbled. you looked away, you looked at anything besides eren. but you still weren’t going to go down like that, so you slapped his hands from his face with no avail since he had a vice grip on them. slapping on his shoulder, his neck, anything you can hit so he would let go of your face. you were yelling out profanities but all he did was stare at you smiling.

you got tired yet again and started huffing from all the the commotion you did. “you done.” eren asked while rubbing left over tears from your eyes. “…” you looked down as he finally let go of your face. “what I’m going to do is, I’m going to fuck you but it’s not gone be the ones where it’s slow and sweet because I’m not in a sweet mood so if you don’t want to you can tell me to stop.” staring at you eren was looking for signs of distress.

“I’m good..” I mean who would turn down sex from eren? plus by the way he is now he’ll be more gentle then he says he will.” wrong. he was going to show you he didn’t play nun of that. “alright choose a save word.” this caused you to look up at him with absolute confusion. a safe? what is he going- “-to do to me?!?” all he did was smile and wait. “uh..brownie” you mumbled. he nodded as he started sliding off your crop top then giving you a rough kiss.

you immediately responded by kissing back then laying on the bed as he got on top of you. eren really wanted to be nice and give you the nice prep he usually did but he was still in a sour mood (plus you guys had a quickie before the party). eren pulled your shorts down and threw them across the room. “take off your panties.” eren ordered as he watched you do what he said closely.

you slid them off slowly letting eren marvel at the string of slick connecting from your cunt to the panties then throwing them back. you shyed away from erens gaze that was so fixated on your wet cunt. you then heard a zipped being pulled down and turned back to see eren sliding his remains garments off letting his dick spring up to his stomach with a small thud. you reached your hand out to cop a feel but it was quickly slapped away harshly just like how you did to him at the party.

“familiar isn’t it?” he said as you slapped and nudged his tip against you clit. you moaned quietly from the slight stimulation he was giving you. then you felt a hard slap against your boobs causing you to reflexively cross your arm across your chest. “speak when you’re spoken too.” he spat out harshly while moving your hand away and tugging at your nipples. you moaned out while grasping onto his arm “i-im sorry..”

he simply hummed then slid in half way way but pulled out, this went on for a while as he groaned while you were moaning quietly but getting impatient. “eren hurry up-“ another slap was given to you but this time across your face. you rested up as you rubbed your face but clenched your legs from how it made you feel. “you take what I give you slut.”

he spat out as slammed in fully and shoved your legs to your shoulders. you could hardly breathe let alone speak, all you could was moan loudly when eren started hitting way to deep. it felt like he was digging you out or searching for something, this caused you to push at his shoulders repeatedly while mumbling incoherent “tss too muchhh~!! e-erenn too deep~”

you whined out as you were tearing up yet again. “its too much mama? I’m so sorry let me fix that.” he cooed while rubbing the side of your neck. you were relieved at what he said thinking he was going to let up but instead, he planted both in feet in the bed hovering over you completely and pushing his weight against you and started ramming down deeper into your cunt.

you squealed as you flew your hand to push his stomach back while screaming out, eren gripped your wrist tightly while holding it down to your stomach so you wouldn’t be able to move it. “take this dick, take this dick, take ittt~ fuckk~ it’s so tight~” he looked down between where you guys are connected seeing you already creating a white ring around him.

shaking your head and thrashing it back from how good he was hitting it in you. you started cumming with a shake in your legs, eren leaned down to your neck leaving bite marks and dark hickies on your neck. whimpering as he let go of your wrist letting you wrap your arms under his armpits letting your hands lay across his upper back. the pace suddenly got faster as he relentlessly hit your g spot hardly. dragging your nails down his back and muffling your moans into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you caging you In his arms to give himself more leverage into fucking you.

you started clenching your pussy up making eren wince you choke you yet again. “open that pussy that pussy mama.” you shook your head knowing if you did he’d go ham, biting his bottom lip with the vice grip you had around his dick. gripping your hair back eren made you stare in his eyes “open that pussy up before I tear this shit the fuck up!” he pulled out then flipped you on your stomach into a arch grabbing your arms folding them behind your back with one of his hands. he used the other to slap your cunt causing you to yelp and try to move away. slapping it again eren yanked you back and slid back in with a harsh thrust.

“keep trying me y/n, you gone open it up” spreading your ass open eren spat down onto your other hole then shoved his thumb inside using it as a way to tug you back into him. this caused you to yelp and accidentally push your pussy out like he wanted and he didn’t hesitate to take the chance to start his harsh pace back up again and killing that pussy.

“o-ohhh fuckkk~ rennn~ its sooo good~” you were trembling on them sheets endlessly, you didn’t know if you wanted more or less but what you did know is you’re finna start crawling out this room in the end. “yeaah~ gimme that pussy, gimme that pussy, gimme that pussyy~ FUCK~!” eren yelled out while throwing his head back from the vice grip you had around him and let alone the sounds your body’s were making. letting out a silent scream you squirted across the sheets, violently shaking then going slump on the bed getting out of your arch.

laying down on your back on top of you while peppering kisses on your shoulder and moving your hair aside eren rubbed your sides. “my baby is tired?” he asked innocently but you knew well that he was up to something. nodding your head with a yes thinking he would give you a break but instead he continued to slam down onto your cunt regardless if you were laying down. sliding his hand under your body to give tugs and pinches at your nipples. “uhh~ uhh~ ouuu~ ren it’s hurttss~ oh my goshh~” drooling onto the sheets you knew fat ma was tired so were you but dick by eren? a fine desert. “it hurts?~ want me to take some out hm~?”

shaking your head no because the feeling of being full was the bestt. it hurted but feel so goodd he was hitting the right spots, and quite frankly you didn’t give a fuck if that punani was tired she was gone take it. “noo~!! keep going~” eren smirked and pulled out slapping his tip repeatedly on your slit yet again. automatically you backed your ass up on him chasing the dick “put it back~ put it back~ put it back-”

mid rant eren shoved it back in gave them deep thrusts only, gripping them seats and shoving your head and the pillow yelping into it feeling like your about to come again. this time it felt so hard pressing against your stomach, it felt like you were going to pee. reeling your hand back pushing eren out and right when he was about to protest he’s met with a fountain of high spraying going out your cunt, you were squirting again but this time it was getting everywhere.

“u-u-uhhh uhhh~!! itss- AH SHITT~!!! ERENNN~!!” you didn’t even know what you were moaning out for but you knew your pussy was going through it. it took a good minute for the spraying to stop then you finally laid till panting loudly. “wow. come here mama~”

laying flat on his back eren pulled your ass to his face then stool his tongue out lapping at your folds. rolling your eyes back in your head you gripped on his thighs leaving scratch marks into them, you even broke your nail ! eren was having the time of his life back there even shaking his head side to side and giving a couple slaps to it, lifting up off his mouth when you felt like you were going to cum yet again and trying to move up, eren yanked you back and going back at it he even added a couple fingers into thrusting them harshly to bring you to your brink faster. clenching your thighs you screamed out and sprayed a bit all over his face then laid still.

“b-brownie~..” eren rubbed your face and kissed the side of your cheek “we were done anyways mama~” laying you down on top of him while giving you praises and upmost love “you lucky that dick good I would’ve pimped yo ass” mumbling out as he snuggled onto him, letting out a small moan when you felt eren slide in two fingers again “oh yeah~? you wanna keep trying me~?” “okayy okayy!!” sliding them out and sucking his fingers eren smiled.

“that’s what I thought.”

[omgwhatchloe]

STUPID MODERN AU HEADCANONS ALERT

-they all have one hideout they stay at after too many of their apartments kept getting raided. its…its chaotic sometimes.

-bill snores so fucking loud and sleeps on the sofas. he DOES have a bed, he just ‘rests’ his eyes during whatever he’s watching, spreads out and snores like hell. its the most infuriating thing, and arthur does not hold back when beating him with a pillow.

-however if it was lenny or one of the girls who’d fallen asleep on the sofa, lets just say hes sneaking back into the house after late night adventures, and he finds them, arthur would absolutely cover them with a blanket or even carry them to bed depending on how tired he was.

-the men of the gang have differing opinions on drugs, strippers, etc. some will absolutely spend their money on that, others will never even consider it. you gotta remember, this is a gang and theyre criminals.

-movie nights are very random as theyre all constantly in and out, doing this and that, but it is nice when a group of them can settle down and watch something. but you know theyre getting interrupted constantly, because lenny thinks that doesnt make sense and johns hungry and sean thinks theyre hot and tilly cant decide if she wants some of the blanket or not and micah’s just walked in and decided the whole ordeal is very gay etc etc

-STREET RACING. sean, lenny, arthur, john, javier, karen, sadie, even abigail all love it, and it miiiight just be one of hosea’s guilty pleasures.

-leopold strauss does not like dutch’s music. imagine, theyre coming back from a job and he rides with dutch and hosea, who plays ‘old classics’ because dutch thinks thats what theyre into. cut to strauss staring longingly out of the window, watching arthurs car with the roof down and pitbull up. he is a very unhappy old man in that moment. he does NOT WANT to listen to big iron, HE WANTS TIMBER!!

-booktok is lenny’s biggest opp. he likes the classics and to wander around bookshops (sean trailing behind him and picking up random books on weeds and fitness to offer him because he doesnt actually know what theyre about) looking for his own books to read and get his own opinion on.

-sean can read, but does struggle with dyslexia and still dislikes books for this reason. he doesnt mind being read too, but feels overwhelmed and gets upset with himself when actually attempting to read.

-mary-beth loves to watch tv in her room only to fall asleep with it on, causing susan to poke her head around the door and yell at her to turn it off at like 3am. but trust me, the girls seen everything. every dating show, reality show, drama, documentary, she has seen it! she also has teddys/stuffed animals!!

-john never grew out of enjoying sleepovers, but thankfully neither did javier. they’d always get drunk and high together, do dumb shit, snuggle only to deny they did in the morning, and get yelled at to shut up. of course, john’d eventually get to have a sleepover every night with abigail, but he feels like its just not the same…

-charles WILL go to sleep in your car and you cant stop him. arthur finds it cute tho.

-the cupboards do not have snacks because everyone is too possessive over what they want and just keep it in their rooms.

-a lot of the time only a few people are having stew, since the rest are off getting fast food or just not eating.

-sean misses ireland so much, homesickness is a big problem for him (to the point he may actually be sick from upsetting himself so much) and he wishes him and his da never had to leave donegal. though obviously he struggles with booking flights and decides to just not do it instead of asking for help. for a perfect birthday present, lenny booked a trip for them!!

-seans da is not dead!! though he lives quite far from where the gang are staying (different state, not back in ireland) and sean misses him more than he likes to admit. the little irishboy loves to sit in his da’s house with a cup of tea, stealing all the biscuits and yapping on. he used to like to bring lenny too, when they were closer (in distance, not relationship)and his da decided he liked lenny more than sean, joking ofc.

[shadesslut]

talk me through it

MINORS DNI

Pairing: (Grunge!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader)

Content Includes: (Smut, cheating, slight angst)

Summary: After Y/N broke up with him, Ethan had been a mess, and he was determined to get her back.

(a/n: Btw, if any more drama comes up with Jack, I'm probably gonna stop writing for Ethan depending on what it is:/)

Masterlist

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Two years. It had been two years since she broke up with him. Ethan had been an absolute mess over the past two years. He missed her, he missed his old self. Ever since she broke up with him, he hadn’t kept up with the role of the ‘nerdy shy guy’. He was different. His face contained fresh piercings, his arms were covered in tattoos, and hair was cut into a mullet. He started wearing grungier clothes too, anything black or ripped, he wore. She got a boyfriend around three months after they broke up; he was a guitarist, Marc. Which is why Ethan completely changed his appearance. 

She changed too, her outfits became more sluttier, more revealing. She replaced her jeans with mini skirts, and her sweaters were switched out for crop tops and camis. Not that Ethan minded the new look, he actually loved it, which was code for he jerked off to her instagram posts every night. The unfortunate thing was that he wasn’t the one making her feel good anymore, her new boyfriend was. 

He didn’t see her that much, only at parties. That’s where he saw her, dancing and swaying her hips with her boyfriend. Ethan was fuming in the corner of the living room of the random frat house he was in. He stood next to his friend, Tyler, who he had met after the breakup. 

“I don’t know why we come to these man,” Tyler complained, taking a drag out of his cigarette. Ethan didn’t answer, he only continued to glare towards Y/N. Marc’s hands gripped her ass under her skirt, and Ethan wanted to kill him. “Hello? Earth to Ethan?”

Tyler snapped his fingers in Ethan’s face, causing Ethan to snap out of his thoughts. He played with his lip ring with his tongue, and he yanked Tyler’s cigarette out of his hand. “Sorry…but can they get a fucking room or something? No one wants to see all of that shit.” Ethan spat out. Tyler sighed as he looked over to Y/N, already knowing who Ethan was talking about. 

Marc glanced over at Ethan, before practically sucking on Y/N’s face. 

“Fuck this,” Ethan muttered as the couple left to go outside. He grabbed Tyler’s wrist and dragged him onto the porch. He spotted an old couch, and sat down, pulling Tyler down with him. Tyler blushed slightly, falling onto Ethan’s leg. Ethan’s eyes scanned over the people hanging out in the lawn, and he spotted them. 

“You got a blunt?” Ethan asked Tyler, pulling his legs on his lap. 

Tyler rolled his eyes playfully, and he reached into his back pocket. “Do you have to ask?” He teased, handing Ethan the blunt. Ethan smiled and took the weed, instantly feeling the stress roll off his shoulders as he lit it and took a hit. 

Y/N looked over at the two boys, full of a jealous rage. Marc was talking to a friend of his, and her mind was only focused on Ethan…and the boy she didn’t recognize throwing himself on him. She missed him, she knew breaking up with him was a bad idea, and she never told him the real reason why she did it. She wanted to, she was going to recently, but Ethan had…changed. She could barely recognize him now. 

“So, about the other night,” Tyler trailed off. Ethan had his arm around Tyler’s shoulders, and his leg was lifted up as his heel rested on the railing. 

“Yeah, what about it?” Ethan mumbled, holding the blunt in his mouth. 

“When you said you didn’t know if you liked boys, did you mean it?” Tyler asked nervously. Ethan knew about Tyler’s obvious crush, but he never said anything about it. Mostly because he liked the attention. Ethan nodded, still staring over at Y/N. “Do you wanna, I don’t know, try with me?”

Ethan’s head jerked at Tyler. Was he finally trying to make a move? “How so?”

“W-We could kiss?”

The truth was, Ethan already knew he liked boys too. His freshman year, he was practically in love with his roommate, Chad. Tyler was cute, but he wasn’t Ethan’s type. It wouldn’t matter if he was anyways, he already was so obsessed with Y/N to be even remotely attracted to anyone else. His eyes flickered to the hand on Marc’s, which rested on her waist tightly. “Sure.”

Tyler’s eyes widened and his cheeks reddened. He slowly raised his hand to Ethan’s cheek, and looked at his lips. Ethan groaned and looked away from Y/N. He closed his eyes, pulling Tyler towards him and pressing his lips against his. Tyler whined, reaching his hands into Ethan’s curls. Ethan moved his tongue against his, and he peeked over at Y/N. She was staring at him, her brows slightly furrowed. He smiled, and he grabbed Tyler’s hand and placed it on his dick. 

Tyler gasped, but didn’t dare move his hand. Ethan was hard, and it wasn’t because of Tyler. His hand rubbed against his pants, and Ethan moaned. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” 

Tyler’s hand stuttered, and he pushed Ethan off of him. “Ethan what the fuck?” He yelled. Ethan only, yet again, looked at Y/N, who was marching back into the house. 

He muttered an apology to Tyler, before shoving his legs off of him and following Y/N. He sniffed and wiped his nose as he followed her up the stairs. 

She turned back, and she stopped in her tracks angrily. 

“Do you need something?” She spat, annoyed. 

“I need to talk to you.” 

“Piss off,” she muttered, continuing to walk up the stairs. 

Ethan grabbed ahold of her wrist, pulling her back towards him. She cursed at him, and he only softly pressed his lips to hers. She struggled at first, seeming to not want it, but she knew deep down, she wanted it more than anything. She finally moved her lips against his, moaning at the feeling of his piercing grazing her lips. 

He pulled back, and he rested his hands on her hips. Ethan smiled brightly, probably the first genuine smile he’s had in awhile. She smirked and grabbed his hand before leading him into a room. 

His hands instantly found her tits as soon as the door closed. She gasped at the contact. Ethan kissed down her neck, marking every other patch of skin. He reached down to her skirt, and he flicked his eyes up to her. She breathed heavily as she stared at him, patiently waiting like the good girl she’s always been for him. 

He smiled, and reached under her skirt, hooking his fingers on her panties. He pulled them down, smiling it was a pair he got her. 

“Couldn’t get rid of them, huh?” Ethan teased, swinging the pair around his index finger. She shook her head. 

He chuckled. He reached over to the door, cracking it open. He hooked the panties on the door handle, then shut the door closed again. 

“So he knows you’re being fucked like a whore.” Ethan smiled innocently up at her. 

Before she knew it, he had dragged her onto the bed, positioning her to sit on his lap. He chuckled dryly as he grabbed ahold of her hips roughly, and he began to grind her against his bulge. She moaned softly, trailing her hands up his chest to his neck. 

“You miss my cock?” He grunted. “I missed your pussy.” He whispered in her ear, reaching down to unzip his jeans. 

She whined, “Mhm,” and took off his shirt, immediately latching her lips onto his bare neck. Her eyes flicked down, scanning over his chest. He had tattoos covering his whole chest and stomach; some being different objects. He had bat wings in the middle of his pecs, and she moaned, tracing her finger along the outline. 

“Fuck,” 

“You like them?” Ethan asked softly as he watched her with adoration. 

“You’ve changed,” She noted, finally meeting his eyes. 

Ethan tilted his head at her, softly smiling. He raised his thumb and gently pressed it to her bottom lip. “So have you.” 

She looked at him sadly for a moment, before kissing him sweetly, continuing to grind her hips into him. 

“I want you to ride me, baby.” Ethan whimpered against her lips. She only laughed and reached down to take his dick out of his boxers. She raised her hips to hover over his dick, and she positioned him to tease his head at her entrance. 

They both gasped at the feeling of each other. It had been way too long. She sunk down on him, fully taking him. Ethan was in pure pleasure. The grin on her waist could cause bruises. She slowly, but surely, began to ride him. Her hips rolled smoothly over him, and she held one hand on his, while the other held his neck. 

“You always fuck me so good, baby. Shit,” Ethan praised her. He leaned his chest against hers, and he kissed the hell out of her. 

He breathed her in, all of her. He wanted to take all of her within him, to keep her away from everything else. Because she was his, and she was only his. No one else’s. And she knew this. Her hips moved faster, and she slightly bounced up and down, making her boobs bounce along. Ethan whispered sweet nothings in her ear. He loved talking her through sex. 

“E-Ethan-“ She whined, throwing her head back. Now Ethan began to thrust his hips upwards into her, only earning more whines from her. He only stared at her full of love, his hips thrusted, his hands moved her hips, and his lips spoke soft praises in her ears. 

“I’m gonna cum so deep inside of you baby. Make sure you’re leaking cum out of your pussy for days.” 

She felt a knot twist in her stomach, and she let go, screaming Ethan’s name as loud as she could. Ethan’s eyebrows furrowed, him finishing not too long after she did. 

The two panted, foreheads pressed together. 

“I love you,” She whispered. 

Ethan looked at her surprisingly. 

“That’s why I broke up with you. I was scared; scared I was gonna fuck it up with the one person I truly loved.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Ethan cooed, swiping a strand of hair behind her ear. She sniffled, wrapping her arms around Ethan’s neck. “I love you too,” 

“Can you go back? Go back to the nerd I fell in love with?” She begged. 

He laughed slightly. “Anything for you, my love.” She smiled, kissing him softly. She knew she was in deep with him, and there was nothing she could do to get out.

[jjkeremika]

AoT men Vices

description: sex, drugs, cigarettes, and, well, you.

pairing: eren, armin, zeke, levi, reiner, jean (x fem!reader)

disclaimer/warning(s)?: stoner eren; oral(fem receiving); drinker zeke; groping; slutty levi; penetration; smoker reiner; rope play; gambler armin; fingering; jealous jean; choking; nsfwwwww

eren

• always high on weed/dabs/carts/edibles (doesn’t matter)

• his pale skin and green irises only accentuated the faint red tinge in the whites of his eyes, like a light blood splatter on american money

• hes tormented!! cut him a little slack. its not his fault his dad gave him the worst type ii bipolar disorder and narcissistic personality disorder a clinician’s ever seen

• gets horrendously horny when he’s high around you, starts touching and holding and kissing and biting you to get and keep your attention

• chews on his fingernails, jitters his legs, and licks and bites his lips as he stares at you, as he feels himself getting harder and harder at the thought of you getting wetter and wetter

• whines about how his throat is dry and he needs to taste you, to drink the liquid sliding out of you, until his tongue and jaw were cramping and his mouth was sore

• will pull you into his lap, gnaw on your shoulder and the lobe of your ear as his hands creep down your abdomen towards the source of the wet stain forming on his lap

• his voice lowers an octave as he begs to touch and taste you, as he asks if his hands and lips inching closer to your crotch is allowed and okay because he so desperately craves your approval

• “oh, baby, please, baby, only you can fix my dry mouth with your wet, pretty fucking pussy, god, baby, please, i’m so thirsty”

• moans so fucking loud when you finally give in and let him lick your clit, his fingers eagerly digging into your thighs as he pulls you so, so much closer, until there’s no air between his mouth and your skin

• devolves into demanding that you ride his face, hop and slide on his mouth with your shiny thick thighs with absolutely no hesitation, no regard for his lungs

zeke

• sad king who drinks most nights

• a gin and tonic or scotch on the rocks kind of man. likes the burn at the back of his throat on the way down

• confessed a similar reason to why he swims; liking the burning ache in his lungs when he holds his breath under the water. reminds him he’s alive

• has a poor relationship with his parents and half-brother. wants and sometimes tries to reconcile but he’s not really a people-person and he struggles to forgive

• divulges to you about his neglected dreams and pile of regrets, over analyzes situations until it all feels hopeless and meaningless

• holds you closer and tighter, at first because he’s fighting tears but then because he’s overcome with pure devotion because you’re here, with him, comforting him, every time

• and he’s certain you have so many other places you could be and more interesting people you can be with and yet you’re holding him too

• tells you that you mean the world to him, that he’s hopeless without you, that you give him something to smile and dream about, that he’d be nothing without you

• he’ll hold your wrists behind your back with one large hand and hold your neck with the other, prying your lips apart and re-introducing your tongues to each other, like he does every other night

• his hands roam as you kiss, his fingernails lightly tracing the goosebumps on your skin to the tail of your spine, the other hand following the curves of your ribcage to where your breast naturally interrupted

• “oh, i love your body, i live to please you, i live for you,” he’ll murmur for the thousandth time against your tongue as his long fingers clasp around your fleshy boob, squeezing with a fearful hold that you’ll pull away and leave him like everyone else

levi

• sex. with you. a lot.

• he doesn’t talk about his feelings or explain his emotions. there are no conversations about his past and his future. they all start one sided, and end in sex

• it’s a cop out. he knows it, you know it, but it’s so fucking good you don’t really care

• every time you try to ask about his family, his friends, his career, or even if he thinks there’s a future between you two, he’s avoiding the question and shoving his tongue down your throat

• he keeps his hand around your neck as he kisses you insistently, as he tries to kiss you until you’re dizzy and you forgot that he was trying to distract you in the first place

• gets needy and wanting, turning you around, stripping you, and bending you over before you could say a word

• impatient and selfish. he drops some lube into his palm and slicks his own cock up, shoving two or three fingers in you for short, to-be-desired thrusts before he’s gasping over you and inching the tip to your exposed muscles

• he chortles airily at the hearty moan you release once he presses inside, the euphoria encompassing his dick and shipping through his bloodstream

• he practically bends you in half, arranging you so he’s pounding into your pussy with your ass presented to his face and your own face shoved into a pillow, mascara and eyeshadow staining into the sheets at the growing desirable ache in your abdomen

• smacks your ass until his handprint is visible as he relentlessly shoves himself inside you, as he gives you every inch of muscle control and strength he has

reiner

• chronic cigarette smoker

• built balcony and patio attachments to your house so he could easily step outside

• you watched him build them shirtless and sweaty, a lighter tucked loosely in his low cut pant pockets and a cigarette lightly held behind his ear

• tries his best to cover the sour tobacco smell with rustic vanilla or mahogany colognes. up for debate when it worked, but the mix of scents really could be oddly pleasant sometimes

• he’s haunted by regrets he won’t even tell you about. doesn’t want to burden you, or rather burden himself with the knowledge that then you’d know too, and there really would be no running away

• you could see them as shadows behind his glassy eyes, always lingering when the lights were on and engulfing him in the dark

• you took it upon yourself to lift his moods, to break him free from the thought patterns that kept him chained to his lot in life

• brought the metaphor to life and bought handcuffs and rope, tied and locked his ankles and wrists to the bedposts, his vulnerability on full display

• his whole body was blushed pink as you gingerly caressed him, crawled up and down his rigid muscular body and ran your sharp fingernails and tongue down his center

• you reminded him he was chained down when he abruptly reached up and out for you, his wrists aggressively slapping back against the mattress or his legs threatening to break the post with fast squirms

• like a wolf chasing after a rabbit, reiner huffed and drooled over you and the sexy shapes you made with your hips as you wiggled all over him, grinded against him and relished in the whines and begs to be released from his holds and touch you

armin

• first got into gambling when eren convinced him to go to a casino for his 21st birthday

• and while the huge crowds and loud noises and overstimulating lights originally raised his anxiety, the adrenaline and excitement of playing and winning won out

• tried to quit a few times but always found his way back to gambling and betting

• card game aficionado. loves the tactile nature of it, always plays with the corners of the cards with his fingertips. sometimes you catch him shuffling and playing cards in his free time at home

• poker is easily his favorite, especially because he can read people like a book. you could never lie to or hide from him

• refuses to say it’s an addiction. it’s more of an intricate hobby, or a challenge he has to bet his way out of

• the worst part is he’s actually pretty good at it and wins more than seventy percent of the time. but when he loses, he loses and he obsesses over it for days

• during good streaks he buys you expensive knickknacks and trinkets and blankets and jewelry, takes you out to dinner more frequently

• feels extra confident when he’s on a hot winning streak, buying you lingerie and telling you to wear it, to turn it into a show for him in the bedroom with him sat on the bed and the lights on

• his hot hands and cold metal rings needily grasp at your sides, his wet tongue caressing the lacy line where the lingerie met your cleavage

• he’ll get impatient, too turned on with your dance to contain himself so he’ll pull you onto his hard erection and bite the nape of your neck to hold you in place

• he’ll stand up and turn you over, hover over you as the mattress shapes to your curves and armin’s hands follow

• loves fingering you with three to four fingers, his eyes doubling in size as he watches your muscles stretch and encompass the appendages. has to clutch the base of his dick like a cock ring to prevent himself from cumming at the site and at the warm, blankety feeling

• sometimes likes to be a bit cheeky and not take his rings off, letting the rings escape inside your opening and feeling it slide toughly against his skin in contrast to your so soft, so sensitive, so inviting body

• the cool metal of his rings was always enticing, and you always gasped heartily and physically thrived at the hard cold material inside

• “oh, shit, baby, i think my ring came off inside you,” he tells you calmly with a wide premeditated smirk, his fingers going limp inside you, “let me just get it out real quick”

• he’ll poke and prod and fold his fingers against your tissue as the ring moves loosely inside you, as you feel yourself building to an inescapable high with armin’s cheeky smirk between your legs as the ring just so happens to keep slipping from his grasp

jean

• jealous jeanyyyyyy

• glares at other men as they talk to you, even if it’s something as innocent as asking for directions or for a petition signature

• usually steps between you and the offending man, escalates the situation beyond necessity by antagonizing the man and firmly demanding an apology for wasting your time

• his blood just boils like hot water in a kettle when he sees you with someone else, someone that’s not him but it should be

• has issues sharing, so there was no way in hell you were slipping out of his attention, and he’s arrogantly insecure, to the excess point that you should only see and talk to him. he’s all you should need right?

• when he saw you calmly talking to eren he flipped his lid, said fuck it to the world and interrupted the conversation

• brings you to the nearest private (i.e., empty and lockable) room and pushes you against the wall or door, his hand firmly locking around your neck

• his hands were so large your whole neck was covered. his fingers were so long the tips touched at the back. his grip was present and firm, and maybe a bit threatening

• “do i speak another language to you? am i on another fucking planet so far you can’t even hear me?”

• he’ll slap the wall next to your ear with his open palm, smirk as you jump from surprise at the sudden outburst

• he leans closer to your ear, the pressure of his hand against your windpipe slightly increasing, his wet hot tongue flicking against your sensitive exposed ear

• “do i need to teach you another lesson?” another light squeeze. “on how to behave?”

[lyn-1225]

Full Control

Pairing: Carl Gallagher x fem!reader

Warnings: Weed, Fluff, slight angst, medical mentions.

Word count: 4600

A/N: this imagine took me awhile to make. I’ve been putting it off along with all of the other imagines I have ideas for and am writing. Now that it’s out I hope you enjoy it :)

——————————————————————

Your POV:

The first person that I thought of was kev.

I knew he’d have what I was looking for.

I didn’t even know why I was looking for it. I’d never done it before let alone wanted to try it, but for some reason the idea of trying weed came into my head.

The Gallaghers always seemed to be doing it and they all seemed fine afterwards. That’s one of the reason I was afraid to try it. I was afraid of what It would do to me.

Even though I was underage, I walked into the Alibi walking straight up to the counter.

Kev was pouring a drink for one of the older men at the counter. “What’s up y/n” Kev greets me passing the drink to the man that was weirdly staring at me.

Feeling uncomfortable I scooted away from him turning my head back to Kev. “Can I talk to you” I ask messing around with my fingers.

“Yeah sure what’s going on?” He asks wiping down the counter a bit. “In private” I slightly whisper pointing my head to the back door.

Getting the hint he nods his head taking the lead to the back door. I follow after him feeling like I’m about to make a drug deal even though I wasn’t.

Closing the door behind me I turn to face him. He looks at me with a confused look wondering why I wanted to talk.

“What’s up?” He asked crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was wondering” I start trying to find the words I wanted to use next.

“If you had any edibles” I asked waiting for the ridicule I was about to get.

“I do but it’s not going to you” he says using a sort of harsh tone. He starts to walk away towards the back door making me run after him.

“Oh come on please” I plead grabbing his arm to turn him around.

“No absolutely not! I’m not giving a 15 year old weed” he yells trying to convince himself not to do it.

“I’ve never tried it before, and you were the first person I thought of” I sigh letting go of his arm.

“I was?” He asks turning back to me with a glint of surprise in his eyes.

“Yes. You were” I nod my head feeling ashamed that i was even having this conversation.

He looks conflicted with himself as he internally battled his decisions.

“Fuck” he swears throwing his hands to his head rubbing the small hairs on his head roughly.

“Fine! Fine” he yells finally giving in to my request.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you” I squeak running into his arms before hugging his waist. I squeeze his abdomen jumping up and down.

“Here” he says handing me a cookie that’s in a plastic bag.

“I was gonna save it for later but I guess you can have it” he sighs as I take the cookie from his hand.

I go to question why he had it on him but before I could he walked back into the Alibi leaving me confused.

Quickly shoving the cookie in my pocket i start to walk down the street to the Gallagher house.

I couldn’t help feel like cops were staring at me. People around here carry drugs on them all the time. I don’t know why I’m so paranoid. Maybe it’s because I’ve never done this before. I’m a goody two shoes what can I say.

I take a turn making a short cut through someone’s lawn before heading down the street towards the one house I felt comfortable in.

The Gallagher house.

More specifically a Gallagher boy that lived in the Gallagher house.

The house comes closer into view making me slightly excited yet extremely nervous.

I had no idea what was gonna happen to me but I was excited to finally get to know what the experience was like.

Coming face to face with the fence I open the door walking straight to the stair case with a hint of fear.

What if I did something stupid?

What if I said something stupid?

The door to the house opened as soon as I took ahold of the handle which meant someone was home. Either that or someone broke in.

Carls military hat was thrown to the side of the room collecting dust next to the window.

Carls home.

Doing a quick knock on the door frame I shut the door behind me maneuvering my way through the living room.

“Carl?” I yell into the house looking around to see where he was.

“In here!” He called back the sound bouncing off the old walls of the house.

I couldn’t exactly pinpoint where he was but it sounded like it came from Fiona’s room.

“Where?” I yell back walking into the kitchen trying to search for any trace of him.

“I’m right here” he laughs walking out of the bathroom just off the the side of the kitchen.

He has is military pants on, the belt undone with him redoing it. His plain beige t-shirt tucked in perfectly to show off his arms and upper body muscles.

“Damn I thought you were upstairs” I chuckle realizing how off I was. I knew I had trouble hearing sometimes but was I really that bad?

“Sorry babe but you were way off” he comments walking over to me standing in the middle of the kitchen.

I move over towards the counter resting my body against it. He walks closer to me with a smirk on his face closing my body in with his arms.

“What’s up” he asks looking from my eyes to my lips. A blush forms on my face as I remember the real reason I was there.

“I got an edible from Kev today” I immediately say getting straight to the point on why I was there.

Well, It wasn’t the only reason why I was there. I wanted to see him of course, but I wanted to be here with him just in case something happened to me.

Obviously I wasn’t thinking something bad would happen but in this day and age you never know anymore.

His facial expression changes from flirty to serious really quick. He never thought in his entire life that he would hear those sorts of words leave my mouth.

“For who?” He asked standing up a bit straighter. The look in his eye showed that he wasn’t fucking around. He was starting to get protective and I knew it.

“For me” I say looking anywhere but him. I was nervous to say the least. I told him that I wanted to try weed because I wanted to see what the experience was like. That was a few years ago though. I only mentioned it once.

“Are you serious?” He asks the shock in his voice showing very clearly. I could tell that he didn’t want me to do it. I knew him to well to not know his tone changes.

“Would you be mad if I said yes” I question turning my head back towards his stiff figure. He seems to be… scared.

Why is he scared?

His eyes stare at me with such intensity that makes me rethink my decision.

“Um” he starts clearing his throat. He runs a hand through his hair turning back toward the kitchen sink.

“Are you sure about this” he asks looking back at me. The look in his eye shows so many emotions that I couldn’t keep up.

“Yes I’m sure” I say pulling the cookie out of my pocket placing it beside me on the counter.

He moves over to me picking the bag up to inspect it. He opens the ziplock bag taking a small whiff of the cookie inside.

His face slightly twists before he closes the bag back up placing it back on the counter.

“Shit you weren’t kidding” he sighs leaning up against the same counter I was leaning against.

“Ok cut the bull shit why are you acting so weird about this” i ask cutting the tension between us with my words.

“It’s just” he starts cutting himself off mid sentence.

I nod my head urging him to continue on with what he was going to say.

“I just don’t want you to get addicted to it and end up doing it everyday” he responds picking the cookie bag back up spinning it around in his hands.

“Trust me after this I think I’ll be done with it” I say the truth to the situation coming out.

I genuinely meant that too. I mean I didn’t want to turn out like Frank or Monica. A one time experience was plenty enough for me.

“Promise?” He asks looking up at me with hope on his face.

“Promise” I say trying my best to reassure him. He nods his head grabbing the bag before opening it and taking the cookie out.

The smell of the cookie hits me like a wave. The stench of skunk fills my nose making me want to gag.

“Holy shit that stinks” I gag putting my hand over my nose. I’m glad I sprayed perfume on my wrist this morning.

He laughs at my comment tearing off about a quarter of the cookie.

“The strong smell means there’s more weed in it. You don’t need more than this” he says handing me the quarter that he tore off.

Taking the part of the cookie that he handed me I take a small whiff immediately regretting it.

“Does it taste like how it smells?” I asks looking up at Carl who’s putting the rest of the cookie back in the bag.

“You’ll see” he smirks putting the bag back on the counter.

“Your not gonna have any?” I ask ripping my piece into two.

Normally he would jump at the opportunity to smoke a joint. Maybe edibles is different?

“Nah I gotta be sober for this” he laughs telling me the truth on why he wasn’t having any.

I laugh as well, the nerves in my body start to over take my movements.

“I’ll be ok right?” I ask a hint of worry in my voice. I was scared shitless.

“Yes I promise you will be fine” he chuckles his eyes giving me the reassurance that I needed.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks wanting me to say it one more time just to make sure.

“Yes I’m sure” I smile taking the first half in my mouth, the bitter and gross taste overtaking my tastebuds.

Why does it taste like this?

The scrunch of my face shows my distaste for the part of the cookie I just ate.

Carls laughter pulls me out of my focus on the taste. I look at him seeing him leaning against the counter with an amused look on his face.

“Taste good doesn’t it? You ” he asks crossing his arms over his chest.

“Tasty” I sarcastically say shoving the other half of the cookie in my mouth so that I could hurry up and get it over with.

I chew the food just enough so that I wouldn’t choke before swallowing it.

The aftertaste left on my tongue lingers making my mouth taste grosser than the actual cookie.

“How long until it’s supposed to kick in?” I ask Carl walking over to the cupboard to grab a glass.

I grab the glass filling it up with some water so that I could get the taste out of my mouth.

“Normally it takes about and hour or two” he says turning to where I was now standing.

I nod my head taking little sips of the water the taste still there but slightly getting washed away.

Now that I’ve eaten the cookie I was even more terrified. There was no going back now.

“I’m terrified” I confess walking into the living room holding the cup to my chest.

“Why?” Carl asks following behind me with his hands in his pant pockets.

“I don’t know it’s just-” I cut off landing onto the couch with a small huff.

He follows my lead falling down on the other side of the couch. He pulls my legs up and onto his thighs undoing my shoe laces.

“Im afraid that I won’t be able to have control over myself” I sigh looking towards his figure.

He continues to undo my shoe laces nodding his head intently listening to me.

Once the shoelaces are un-tied he takes my shoes off placing them next to the couch and out of the way.

“Thank you” I smile wiggling my toes under my black socks. He chuckles at my childish behavior placing his hands on my feet slightly rubbing them.

“You don’t have to do that” I smile feeling the soreness in my feet go away as he works his hands into my skin.

“I’m trying to help you relax” he says continuing his actions. “I promise you that you will have control over yourself” he says working into the heels of my feet.

“Is that based on experience” i ask trying to make sure that I keep my mind busy. “Yes it is” he smiles turning to look at me.

He takes his hands off my feet placing my legs back down on the floor. He crawls closer to my side of the couch laying down to where his face would be on my stomach. I move my legs back up on the couch opening them in a v so that he could place his legs between them.

He crawls up to me slightly leaning up on his knees that we’re currently in between my legs a few inches away from my inner thighs.

“You’ll be ok” he reassures me placing a small kiss to my forehead before leaning onto my body making sure to not put to much weight on me.

He lays his head on my chest wrapping his arms around my waist. Placing my hands in his hair I mess around with his soft brown locks interlocking my right leg with his left.

We sit in silence letting our minds clear of any worry or thoughts. The only thing we pay attention to is the sounds of the cars passing on the streets and the rhythm of each others breathing.

“I remember the first time I ever got high” he says leaning his head up so that his chin was resting on my left boob.

It’s a good thing he wasn’t leaning on my sternum cause that would’ve hurt.

I could tell he liked our position by the slight smirk on his face and the constant wandering eyes.

I smile at him waiting for him to tell the whole story. Knowing him it was gonna be some crazy story that involved illegal activity.

“I was at a friends house” he started keeping eye contact with me. “He asked me if I’ve ever done weed before and obviously I said no. He handed me a small bag of gummy bears which at the time I thought was just a regular bag of gummy bears” he laughs shaking his head.

I laugh as well continuing my hand movements in his hair. “I ate almost the whole bag when he took it away from me. I was confused at first but then I realized that he gave me edibles. I wasn’t opposed to it because I had always seen Lip and Ian doing it and they seemed like they had the best times of their lives” he continued on chuckling after the memory comes to the front of his mind.

“About 30 minutes later his mom dropped me off here becuase it was a school night. While we were all eating dinner at the table that’s when I started feeling it” he stopped looking at me to make sure I was still paying attention. I nod my head urging him to finish his story.

“Everyone at the table immediately knew what was going on. Lip was laughing, Fiona was scolding me, Debbie kept asking me what I was feeling and Ian tried to calm me down from my freak out” he laughed moving his body slightly so that he was in a more comfortable position.

“I got used to it after about half an hour” he says finishing his story time. I smile at him trying to picture the scene in my head. I could imagine Fiona laughing on the inside and Lip completely falling apart with laughter.

It really was a time that I wish I was there for.

“Feeling anything?” He asks moving his arms so that he could lean his head on top of them.

If I was being honest I felt a little warm but nothing out of the ordinary.

“I feel a little warm but that it” I say shrugging my shoulders a bit. It hasn’t been that long so it should kick in a bit later.

“How do I know when it has hit” I ask looking into his eyes. He smiles a genuine smile trying to calm my nerves. “Trust me you’ll know” he answers giving me almost no details to his answer.

Well this should be fun. A guessing game.

For the next hour we chat back and forth telling our stupid stories and experiences we’ve had throughout our lives. Since we’re still young it’s mostly just stupid shit that involved some sort of parent or adult.

My muscles have continually gotten more and more heavy, my body feeling like it’s sinking into the couch underneath me. My mind has become more and more calm the more I listened to Carl talk about his time in prison.

Or atleast I was trying to listen. Every few seconds I’d get stuck in a state of dissociation where I’d forget about everything and I’d be looking at the world as if I was looking at a moving picture.

It was really fucking weird.

The giggle that erupts from my mouth confuses Carl making him look up at me. The first thing he noticed was my thrown back head and the slightly red whites of my eyes.

He starts to chuckle as well giving up on his story to watch me with intent eyes.

“You ok?” Carl asks me placing his chin on my left breast again. I look at him with a smile on my face a sudden spur of words immediately forming in my head.

“I think I might be high” I laugh moving my hand up to my head seeing it move in a weird motion. I didn’t want to get up with how relaxed I was under Carl.

He laughs as well amused with what is going on with me. This is why he wanted to be sober. He wanted to see every single thing that I would do and he wanted to imprint it into his memory.

“You know I’ve always wondered what being high would feel like and this isn’t what I thought it would be like” I confess, the words falling from my lips like an avalanche that I couldn’t control.

He stares at me waiting for the moment my word vomit decided to continue. “I thought it would be the sort of thing where I had absolutely no control over my body, but I think I have control over everything” I say letting my body rest on the couch.

The weight of my body felt like it was sinking which made me feel like I was gonna fall.

“I’m hungry” I suddenly say lifting my hands to pat Carl on the back silently asking for him to get up. “I’ll get you something” he offers getting up and off my body walking to the kitchen making sure to keep an eye on me.

The weight from his body stays on my legs making it feel like my legs were permanently stuck to the couch.

Before I start to freak out, I try to move my leg making it move from side to side on the couch. Thank god I could still move.

It’s very hard to describe this feeling. On one hand I was relaxed, and calm while on the other hand I was energetic, and freaking out.

That was only internally though.

Carl walks back into the room holding a bag of chips and another glass of water. “Here you go” he says handing me the bag before placing the glass on the coffee table for when I want it.

“Thank you” I smile trying to open the bag with a small struggle. My hands were slightly shaking which I think is normal.

With Carls laughter filling my ears I finally get it open plucking a chip out from the bag.

He sits back down on the couch moving my legs on his like he did before.

“These are good” I speak my mouth full with chips. They really were good. Although they tasted very very salty.

Scrunching my face I fold the bag back up placing the clip on it handing it to Carl. “Why do they taste so salty?” I ask reaching for my water that’s on the table.

On a normal day I would talk a lot but never this much. The cookie running through my body was making me want to spill every one of my thoughts out into the world.

“There barbecue” Carl comments looking at me with a look that says ‘are you serious’ and ‘I’m trying so hard not to laugh right now’.

“Oh” I laugh placing the water back onto the coffee table.

The front door opens suddenly another male Gallagher walking into the house. This time it was Ian.

He walks in holding his bag that he takes to work everyday. His shift must be over, either that or he’s on break.

“Ian!” I yell jumping off the couch before running to him. Almost tripping and falling flat on my ass.

“Woah what’s up with you” he asks with a small amused smile on his face. Keeping one hand on the wall I laugh doubling over into the wall.

“She’s high” Carl laughs getting up and off the couch to make sure I don’t almost bust my ass again.

“Wait really?” Ian questions eyes slightly wide. He didn’t expect that to come from Carls mouth.

“Hell yeah bro” he nods placing his hands on my shoulders.

Standing up from the wall I stand tall acting like a soldier that was in training. “Sir yes sir” I say fully aware of what I’m saying.

Carl and Ian both laugh, Ian walking away to get something to eat from the kitchen.

“How was work” I ask following after him. This time I was able to walk without almost falling over. I was getting the hang of it.

“It was alright. Had a few overdoses and a car accident. Thankfully no deaths” he smiles taking a beer out of the fridge.

“Is it scary working in a job like that? I feel like it would be scary walking into the situation thinking life or death. I would be scared to see the person because you never know when you’ll be in that situation you know what I mean?” I rush out making them think back to everything I just said.

Carl and Ian look at each other with raised eyebrows having to think about what I meant. They’ve never heard me talk about genuine fears that I have. Well at least ones that weren’t just irrational.

“Ya it can be scary, but the thought of being able to save the persons life is well worth the fear” Ian smiles taking a gulp of his drink.

“The lights scare me” I say leaning my back against the fridge door looking up at the bare ceiling that suddenly interested me.

“The flashing red and blue” i clarify picturing the lights in my head.

“Why?” Carl asks moving so that he was next to me. I couldn’t see his facial expression but I could tell by his voice that he genuinely wanted to know.

“My dads been in the hospital more times than I’d like to admit” I start allowing myself to catch a breath from all the talking I’ve done.

“Two of the times I’ve had to call 911 for him” I confess feeling the emotion from those nights. It was really scary to see my dad being carried into an ambulance.

“The lights remind me of those times and I just-” I cut myself off starting to feel small tears prick my eyes.

“I just don’t like it” i finish still staring up at the ceiling. All the shit from in my mind that I would normally keep in just fell out and into their laps.

An awkward silence fills the room making me feel slightly embarrassed by my sudden rush of emotion.

Clearing my throat I push my body off the fridge taking my eyes off of the ceiling. “Anyways I’m gonna take a nap” I say trying to get away from the always situation by walking back out of the kitchen not waiting for a response.

Falling onto the couch I burry my face into the throw pillow letting my eyes fall. The rush of calm folds over my body like a blanket as my mind goes blank and my breathing goes steady. The darkness off sleep overtaking me.

Carls POV:

She walks into the living room immediately landing on the couch. It seemed like as soon as she hit the couch she was out.

Her sudden confession about her dad runs through my head.

I never knew much about her family but I did know that her dad was a very bad drug addict.

Up until now I always thought he had some sort of control over how much he does. I guess I was wrong.

My eyebrows furrow at the guilt set in my chest.

“Wow” Ian says cutting through the silence in the room. His face showing a mixture of surprise and sadness.

The beer in his hand almost falls due to the light grip he has on it.

“Ya” I respond looking towards the couch that shes currently sleeping on.

“I have to go back to work” Ian awkwardly says putting his beer on the counter before making his way to the front door that he literally just came through.

“Bye” i slightly sigh little emotion being heard in my voice.

Walking into the living room I stare at her relaxed body trying to figure out a way to move her without waking her up.

That would be nearly impossible.

Deciding to just move her quickly I place my arms under her arms lifting her up. I quickly maneuver my body onto the couch slowly lowering her body onto mine.

She stirs a bit in her sleep making me stop my movements. She groans rolling her head to the other side before quickly falling back to sleep.

To make myself more comfortable I move her legs in between mine making her come out of her sleep.

She groans again her eyes fluttering a bit. She wasn’t fully awake but she was sort of awake.

“Mmm” she moans cuddling closer in my chest her arms moving over my sides to my back. “Hi” she smiles closing her eyes with her ear being placed on my heart.

“Go back to bed pretty girl” I smile lightly running my hands through her h/l h/c hair.

She mumbles a smile forming on her face as she lets sleep over take her again.

Even though she was gonna remember all of this tomorrow I couldn’t help but think about wether or not she was gonna act like the conversation happened.

I smile at the woman on top of me wrapping my arms around her shoulders kissing the crown of her head.

We could deal with everything tomorrow. For now I was gonna lay down and enjoy the silence of her soft breathing and the small smile across her face.

——————————————————————

A/N: This is based on my personal experience, but it’s different for everyone. It was hard explaining everything lol. I wish everyone a great day/week.

[inourtownofhawkins]

𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒞𝒶𝓉

Summary: Every cat loves Eddie, all except one.

Author's note: I have no idea where this came from but the idea of a cat making Eddie's life hell is so funny to me.

CW: None

Word count: 702

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

It was easy to say Eddie liked cats, and cats very much liked Eddie. Anywhere he’d go, he would somehow attract cats; whether they were strays or domesticated, they seemed to be all over him.

All cats liked Eddie, except for one.

Wayne’s ginger tabby cat – also called Eddie – despised him. Eddie the Cat would pee on Eddie the Human’s bed, use his guitar amps as chew toys and hiss anytime he so much looked in the cat’s general direction. On more than one occasion, Eddie had thought about how life would be easier if that cat wasn’t around.

The ginger tabby had been around for as long as Eddie could remember, always curled up with Wayne on the couch after he came home from work and snuggled up to him while he slept.

But as soon as Wayne left, and it was just Eddie and the cat? A never-ending spree of growling, hissing, and trying to bite and scratch Eddie’s hands. But nobody ever believed him, because the cat was so nice and sweet to everyone else except for him.

Even you had a hard time believing that the little elderly cat was capable of being so vicious, as he was always sweet to you and wanting head scratches. It was while you were giving Eddie the cat endless amounts of attention and Eddie the human was stumbling in the kitchen to make drinks that you made him question everything, by a simple observation; “Eds, have you ever thought about who was named Eddie first?”

He hesitated as he brought his head out of the fridge to look at you, “what do you mean, honey?”

You leaned back a little on the sofa to get your head closer towards him. “I mean, the cat has been around for practically forever. Have you thought that the cat was named after you or the other way around?”

Eddie completely froze at the thought, falling unusually silent for the rest of the night until you went home, and he was able to sit down with Wayne during dinner. “Wayne,” he began, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “This is a serious question; was the cat named after me, or was I named after the cat?”

Wayne looked at his nephew for a few moments, completely confused as to why he’d ask such a question before finally answering. “You were named after the cat.”

The answer completely broke Eddie, he felt as if his whole life was a lie. For years, he thought he was named after a distant family member or someone famous but to be named after that cat? Absolutely not. It had to be a lie; it couldn’t possibly be true.

But Wayne wouldn’t lie to him, would he?

Laying in bed and being unable to shake that thought, even at 2am. He called you, waiting multiple times for you to pick up, your sleepy voice quietly coming through the phone. “Eddie, it’s late, tell me it’s important otherwise I’ll have to kill you.”

He could tell you were already falling back asleep as you were talking, and he did feel bad for waking you up, but you were the voice of reason. “I’m sorry for waking you up, baby. I promise I’ll make it up to you in the morning, but Wayne told me I was named after the cat and-”

Your sigh cut him off, hearing the rustling of your bedcovers as you got comfortable. “Eddie, you were not named after the cat, and the cat doesn’t hate you.”

“But how do you know?”

“Because Eddie the Cat is seventeen years old, you’re almost twenty. And he only attacks you because weed is toxic to cats and you reek of it most of the time, you complete muppet. Now go to fucking bed.”

Eddie was about to question you again, but you hung up on him, almost instantly drifting off back to sleep. He tried to call you several times, but you were too deep in sleep to reply. By the time you woke up, you had 6 missed calls and only one text.

EDDIE: But how can you be SURE I wasn’t named after the cat?

[empty-movement]

sorry but please... post your akio plastic covered couch tweet here... the world needs to know...

Warning: pics of gross shit happening on the couches

I'll do you one better and include the STORY! So, I, Vanna (note: Yasha mostly does the Tumblr and I mostly do the Twitter,) was smoking enough weed to knock out a large horse or put a very tiny dent in my constant back and shoulder pain, as one does when when they're a middle-aged Registered Nurse in the year 2023. (I'm 39 but it's an old 39, lmao.)

Scrolling through Twitter, I stumble on a fanart of Suletta from Witch of Mercury sitting goofily on a white couch. Now I haven't seen this show yet, but the white couch....looked familiar, and I know the show is very much a descendent of Utena in terms of creative teams. For those that don't know, the series is written by Ichirō Ōkouchi, who also wrote the two Revolutionary Girl Utena novelizations...which if you didn't know about before, you know about now, and can read translated on our site here! (Warning: Touga and Miki uh, in the novels...)

Anyways, so I hop onto my own website and start downloading the images that will constitute receipts, before realizing 1. these images are all on multiple computers feet away from me, 2. the couch isn't an identical match, 3. that'd have been weird anyway, and most importantly, 4:

AKIO'S COUCHES DON'T LOOK RIGHT. OBSERVE:

The edges of the armrests have sloppier upholstery than the blanket I have covering my computer desk. I took the time to tuck seams at least. What is this??

Now it could absolutely be leather, I thought. It would absolutely track. But leather upholstery doesn't look like this. It doesn't wrinkle quite this way. It would have cleaner seams.

No. No that's too shiny for leather. So here I am, presented with this strangeness I'd never really considered in how Akio's couch is drawn, and having spent the last few months learning about my Italian-American family history, my chemically altered ass came to the only reasonable conclusion:

Akio Ohtori has plastic coverings on his white couches, like he's a depression era American in poverty.

Fuck yeah, I though, A HIT TWEET, there, at the end of all Tweeting things. (Yeah I'm working on that, stay tuned, lmao. I of all people know when to bail on stupid men with stupid power.) Because I am me, I framed it as semi serious by pulling a context to explain it out of my ass:

I was joking.

But the replies? They were not. And then I thought about it some more. And I've kept thinking about it. Do I seriously think Ikuhara and Co literally are intentionally drawing a plastic covered couch? Doesn't that feel, Vanna, like a bit of a stretch, even for Utena meta?

Listen to that CRONCH when Akio sits down in episode 31, before Anthy is seen by Nanami. Look, the buttons on the back rest don't quite fit, but the rest? Yeah it kinda does. I was high, but not wrong!?

Akio *does* surround himself with a bizarre hodgepodge of Americana as an aesthetic. The arm garters. The piping and cut of his cowboy-ass shirt. His American car. His mullet. His miniature fucking golf. Why not the plastic covered couch? It's a trope of American poverty that would absolutely have fallen neatly into the diet of American pop culture that influenced Ikuhara. (He makes references to E.T. and The Godfather and Suspiria and all kinds of things in his other work, Utena itself is a little less obvious with individual references but inherits HUGE amounts of vibes from the same content--Ikuhara and Co watched Lost Highway in theaters during the production of the Akio Arc and I will not be convinced otherwise.)

So yeah. That's the story, and that's the theory. Do I seriously believe it was deliberate? Maybe. Probably. Possibly. But it fits so well it's headcanon for me, and in the Utena fandom, pretty much all canon is kind of headcanon so enjoy this one.

What an asshole.

[allsortzofcrap]

I need to find a mechanism through which I can look at the sherlock holmes tag on here without having to see the bbc's "sherlock" content whatsoever.

It's not so much that the adaptation is particularly terrible, although it is, but actually just that seeing Benedict Cumberbatch's face freaks me out (not for the reason you are thinking - having to do with tumblr culture of 2014 - although also that I guess).

The real reason I'm freaked out is because of a completely separate terrifying incident.

I've been very into Sherlock Holmes since I was a kid, so when that show was on the air, my family had cut off a cover image from some magazine reviewing the premier of the show that was a close up of Benedict Cumberbatch's face with the hat and everything and taped it to my door. I left it there for a day or so and then took it down. Then my mom and sister took it out of the trash and hung it back up in another location around the house which I again left up for a few days and then eventually took down.

We kept going back and forth for a few days until it basically became this game my sister and mom would play to irritate me. Hiding it in different weird locations to see how long it took for me to notice. One time it was on my closet door, in the laundry room, in the pantry etc.

Flash forward a while, my sophomore or junior year of high school i had just started smoking weed correctly and had not fully got a handle on how much I could smoke now that I was actually inhaling it into my lungs as opposed to just sort of breathing it into my mouth and then blowing it out very cool and nonchalant.

So i had really extremely overdone it at my friends house and when my friend dropped me home I was very glad that everyone was already asleep because I had basically spent the entire car ride trying not to puke. So i kind of speeed walked inside the house and like trip ran up the stairs to the bathroom and immediately yakked in the toilet. It was quite bad since I was very high, and the room was spinning, and I was scared I'd poisoned myself. Also I was trying to be quiet because I was convinced if my parents found me they would kill me and then make me get my stomach pumped (not how weed works but whatever).

All the lights in the house were off and it was super quiet so I just kind of laid my head on the toilet seat and tried to calm down. I could kind of see in the bathroom because there was a night light plugged into the outlet by the sink. And as I finally got the will to try and lift myself up and take a shower I raised my head and saw like a millimeter from my face making direct eye contact with me was a blurred bendict cumberbatch in his stupid fucking sherlock holmes outfit with like SCARY ass blue eyes staring into my soul. It had been taped to the inside lid of the toilet seat???

I was so absolutely caught off guard and I guess low key terrified that I immediately puked again and that image has become so entwined with the puking and the sensation of complete and total terror that every time I see him in anything it completely ruins it for me. Which is unfortunate because he was quite good in the imitation game i think.

Anyway so there's that. Any advice is welcome.

[ultraericthered]

One Villainous Scene: The Lesson Of Defeat

As the chief overarching antagonist for Korosensei and Class 3E on the school life front, headmaster Gakuho Asano was presented from the get-go as a very unpleasant man, a despotic educational overlord who designed the system his elite academy for learning operates under to be as Darwinistic as possible - the students who are not merely studious and driven but truly strong are the ones who will be favored and get ahead, while the weak and idle students, or just those that are deemed to not have any bright prospects for their future going forward for whatever reason, are weeded out and given targets on their back for bullying and ostracization, to be made examples of so that their betters are further driven to excel in school and in life. He makes his ideology clear in his "worker ant theory" scene with Korosensei, and we're later shown the dark, depressing backstory that shows why he adopted this as the fundamental tenet for his educational policy. Those are just two of Gakuho's greatest bits and I might've chosen either of those to cover if I'd wanted to...

...But this scene. This is probably the best one to exemplify that what is deeply, deeply wrong with Gakuho Asano runs far deeper than how he carries his role as educator. After his son, star student Gakushu Asano, failed to defeat the E Class at a field sport along with a team of four physically fit foreign exchange students from America, Gakuho gives his son and this team a stern talking to in his office, telling his son straight up that this demonstrates his inability to lead. Kevin, leader of the exchange students, speaks up in Asano's defense and tells Gakuho that as his father, he ought to be telling his son that there's a lot that can be learned from losing. And Gakuho remains completely calm, noting that what Kevin just said is certainly not an invalid opinion and that in fact, maybe he would like to learn from it too. So he invites the Americans to come at him with all they have to try to physically fight him and defeat him. All four at once.

The next cut is to the four American students beaten down onto the floor so badly that some of their blood is splattered onto the wall. Asano Jr. has his back to the wall, horrified at what he'd witnessed, as his father relays to him what "learning from losing" means in his warped worldview. He recalls that when he was a younger man taking karate lessons, he was put on the recieving end of a truly humiliating beatdown by his mentor, a black belt in karate, on his first day of training. He'd fallen over with a pained gut and had even vomitted, a taste of defeat he'd never had before in his life up to that point. Gakuho's response to this was to spend all of his second day closely watching his master and other students as they fought, gazing into the tecnhiques of body and mind, carefully observing every move and watching for every weak point. He was determined to achieve total victory in his next fight with the master, for should he lose a second time, he'd lose his sanity and die of the madness and shame, in his words. So on the third day, he fought and took down his master in a brutal fashion without the man ever landing a single hit on him. For Gakuho, this is the only lesson that defeat should teach you - a lesson on how to be a better, sharper, stronger winner.

What I find most fucked up about this moment isn't just what Gakuho did to those students, the details of his backstory and the implications on how psychotic the man's mind really is - it's that he didn't have his son leave the room during the fight, 'cause he wanted to make him watch the beatdown and take in the horror of its result. This was more than just his idea of a helpful lesson for his son, it was a veiled warning to him. A display to send the message "should you challenge me while not at your best and not absolutely sure you'll be able to achieve victory over me, this is what will happen. This is what I will do to you." It's psychological abuse at its most sinister. And to compound it, while we've seen terrifying looking centipede creatures used to symbolize the level of control Gakuho has and how he exercises it, this is when we see the true symbol of what spawns the things: a vile creature with dark eyes, glowing pupils, and the face of a grinning demon. The image flashes by for only a second, but it does so as Asano keeps on talking, not once chaning his voice and tone, which Sho Hayami (and Chris Rager in the dub) performs to chilling perfection. As Asano puts it, his father truly is a monster.

[littledemondani]

all mine - prequel

pairing: eddie munson x reader

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, fem!reader, toxic mom (reader's mom is verbally and emotionally abusive and has a diet culture mindset), jason and reader are in an established relationship, mentions of drug use (weed), drug deal (reader buys weed from eddie), angst, fluffy at times, canon divergence - if i missed anything let me know!

word count: 4.1k

summary: you just needed something to take the edge off, to deal with the incessant belittling brought onto you by your mother. but you didn't know it would lead to an unlikely relationship with eddie munson.

a/n: i know i should be finishing part two, but i really wanted to write something pertaining to how eddie and reader met. you don't need to read part one for context, since this is technically the beginning of their story. i've also written some blurbs about them, which you can read here.

masterlist | taglist

another day, another round of backhanded compliments and third-degree insults at the hand of your own mother. they had started to become a daily occurrence ever since you had become head cheerleader, a title you didn’t think you deserved nor wanted. it was bad enough when you were just a regular member of the cheer squad — which you never wanted to be a part of, but were forced into because your mother insisted you follow in her footsteps — and it just got even worse after the fact. 

she expected you to be exceptionally lady-like, by the way you dressed, talked, and acted. however, you were anything but lady-like. you hated wearing dresses, skirts, bright and happy colors like pink, orange, blue, and yellow, jewelry of any kind; you also didn’t like wearing a lot of makeup, only mascara and a tiny bit of eyeliner. it drove your mother absolutely fucking crazy. you were a cheerleader, and your boyfriend, jason carver, was captain of the varsity basketball team, you needed to look nice for him in order to keep his attention, as your mother had so graciously put it one evening when he was picking you up for an ice cream date and your outfit happened to be a pair of cut-off jeans with a black tank top and your worn-out black converse that had doodles on the midsole and toe-cap. 

you had tried to reason with her that it wasn’t a big deal, you were just going out for ice cream, and not to some high-class restaurant — as if there was one in the small podunk town of hawkins, indiana.

needless to say, your efforts at squashing her protests against your casual clothing choice fell on deaf ears, and you trudged back up to your room to change into a baby pink sundress that your mother bought for you against your will, and white keds.

each hurled insult felt like knives being pushed deep into your chest. how can a mother do this to their own child? make them feel like no matter what they do or say it’s never good enough? you do everything she asks of you, you never question her, never talk back, bend over backwards to meet her expectations of you, and yet, she still always finds an issue with everything that you do.

on this particular morning, she had started in on you about the portion of food you had eaten for breakfast. your father sat idly by while she chastised you, nose buried deep in the newspaper that had been delivered only moments prior. he was no help at all to you when she got in those moods, even when you looked at him with desperation in your eyes to just do or say something. but, like you, he didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire of your mother’s warpath, and actively chose to not get involved.

it felt like the room was spinning. your mother’s voice had started to fade off into the distance, but her words still echoed in your mind. all you could feel was rage — unbridled, raw, and overwhelming. 

you had taken a lot from her over the years, stayed silent and tried to be a good daughter, but everyone eventually reaches their breaking point.

“you know what,” you said, slamming your hand down and standing up from your seat at the dining table. “i’m not doing this with you today, mom.”

“honey? i’m only try—.”

“trying to help me, yeah, you say that all the time, but you know what? it isn’t helping me. AT ALL.” you stormed out of the dining room and into the living room, grabbing your backpack from the sofa and swinging it over your shoulders.

your mom came barreling into the room, eyes wide with fury at being talked back to. “y/n, as your mother, i’m only doing what i think is best for you.”

“no, mom, you’re doing what you think is best for you. it’s never been about me!” you picked up your car keys from the hook next to the front door. “you only care about how you feel, what you want, what you need. news flash mom, the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you!”

she looked at you incredulously. she couldn’t believe the atrocities spilling from you. she tried to speak, but you held your hand up, shaking your head.

“i have to go to school. don’t want your perfect daughter to be late, now do you?” with that, you walked out of the house, slamming the door behind you.

“what’s wrong with you?” your friend, rebecca, asked as she walked up to the lunch table you all always sat at. “you look like your dog got run over.”

you looked up from your lunch, having been poking around at it with your fork rather than actually eating it. “it’s nothing,” you lied. “didn’t get enough sleep last night. i’m exhausted.”

“uh-huh,” she eyed you carefully as she sat across from you. “i know you well enough to know that’s a bold-faced lie. but it’s okay! if you don’t wanna tell me, i won’t press you.” 

you sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them again.

“it’s my mom…she…we got into it this morning,” you admitted. 

“y/n, i’m sorry,” rebecca said, frowning softly. “is it the same shit?”

rebecca was the first person you had confided in, besides jason, about the issues with your mother. not because you felt she was a good enough friend for that, you had barely spoken more than a few words to her outside of cheer practice, but because she had witnessed your mom berating you after a football game in the parking lot when you thought nobody else was around. 

turns out, rebecca was well-versed in the art of having a toxic mother, as her own put her through the same treatment yours did with you. the two of you became close, and you liked having someone you could vent to, who would understand you and your feelings when shit got too hard to deal with.

especially since jason didn’t understand any of it. he always thought you were being too hard on your mother. that you just needed to hear her out because she loved you and was only looking out for you. it was easy for him to make that judgment, considering his own parents worshiped the ground he walked on and he could do no wrong in their eyes. he was their golden boy, the poster child for perfection, just as he was to everyone in hawkins. 

“i think she wants me to be exactly like her and that’s never gonna happen. i’m not her!” you dropped your fork onto the plastic tray with a sigh.

“maybe you should tell her about how you feel,” rebecca suggested. 

“yeah, like that’ll change anything,” you scoffed. “i’m tellin’ you, beck, she’ll just say that i’m being ridiculous and misunderstanding her.”

rebecca gazed at you solemnly. “you’re probably right, but at least you’ll have some peace of mind knowing that you got it off of your chest.”

your throat tightened, and the sting associated with tears welling in your eyes made its presence known. you quickly glanced away from her, wiping the few tears that managed to escape with the sleeve of your sweater.

you spent countless nights wishing your mother was different. wondering why she couldn’t just be proud of you, regardless of whether or not you’re a cheerleader, or in band, or played sports, or joined an academic club, or just didn’t give a shit about any extracurriculars. because at the end of the day, you’re her daughter, and her love for you should supersede all of that useless shit that won’t matter once you graduate from high school in a few months. she should want you to be happy, should lift you up and support you, not tear you down and make your formative years hell.

“you know…you should definitely start smoking weed,” rebecca said, breaking the silence. “i’m telling you, it works wonders. it helps me when my mom starts her shit. it’ll help you, too.”

“i can’t do that,” you shook your head. “my mom would kill me.”

“she doesn’t have to know,” rebecca countered. “you have that shed in the back of your house, right? the one your dad never uses? you can smoke in there if you’re afraid to do it inside. i promise you, it’ll make everything so much easier.” 

the thought does sound nice in theory. being able to shut your brain off? even for a moment? to deal with the unnecessary pressure your mother put on you? to deal with her constant judgment?

rebecca watched as the wheels turned in your head; a look of consideration sweeping across your tired features.

“okay…but…there’s only one problem. i wouldn’t know where to like, i dunno…get it?”

“well, it’s your lucky day, because i know just the person for that,” she grinned. “patrick’s guy he usually would get from moved out of town a couple weeks back. he was all bummed about it, but one of his buddies on the football team told him where he gets his. it’s actually pretty good shit.”

she talked really fast, almost like she was trying to hurry before someone walked by and heard her talking about her boyfriend’s drug habit.

“who does he get it from?” you asked slowly, brow raised as you glanced at her.

“eddie munson.”

winters in hawkins were the absolute worst. snow still covered the ground from two days prior and more was set to fall in the coming week. you hated the cold and everything that came with it. the dark, gloomy days, the freezing temperatures, the snow, etc. if you could snap your fingers and have it be spring all year ‘round, you definitely would.

especially right now, that you were standing outside by the side of the school, with no cover to shield you from the biting wind. your hands felt frozen, despite having gloves on, and the pockets of your winter coat didn’t do much to help. you silently cursed at mother nature for creating winter to begin with.

you weren’t sure how long you had been standing out in the cold. you glanced at your watch, which read 3:45pm.

fifteen minutes. he had said to meet him at 3:30. 

you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you shoved your hand back into your coat pocket. maybe he had lost track of time? or maybe he didn’t take you seriously? or he was playing some kind of prank on you? whatever the case, you were fed up with being in the cold, and wanted to go home to the warmth of your bed. 

you kicked at a rock before turning to head towards the parking lot when you smashed face-first into a solid mass, letting out a yelp of surprise. 

“whoa! hey! sorry! didn’t mean to scare you,” a voice, soft, yet full of amusement chuckled above you.

you pulled back, coming face to face with the man of the hour, himself: eddie munson.

he was panting a little, like he had been running or something, his curly hair was even more wild and unruly than it normally is, his black combat boots wet with shards of grass sticking to them. he was wearing two jackets, a light, black one underneath his signature leather jacket, his denim vest overtop, and dark denim jeans. wasn’t he cold? it didn’t look nearly warm enough to keep him comfortable in the frosty breeze.

eddie noticed the concerned look on your face, leaning in a bit closer, brown eyes furrowed as he carefully asked, “you okay?”

“uh, yeah, yeah, just—didn’t expect to literally bump into you,” you chuckled through your nose. you glanced around you, suddenly feeling a bit awkward and nervous.

“right, okay,” he shook his head. “so, um, we can do this in my van? if you want? ya know, to get out of the cold. you look like you could warm up some.”

you hadn’t realized you were practically shivering; the wind having picked up suddenly and out of nowhere.

“sure,” you nodded, giving him a small smile.

he lead the way to his van, which surprisingly wasn’t that far of a walk from where he had asked you to meet him, thankfully. he opened the passenger door for you, a charming smile plastered on his features as he dramatically gestured to the empty passenger seat. “welcome to my castle on wheels.”

you giggled, slinging your backpack off your shoulders and tossing it onto the floorboard. eddie watched as you hopped up into the van, waiting until you were completely situated before closing the door and hurrying to the driver’s side. he got in quickly and turned it on, then put the heater and blower on the highest setting.

glancing around the van, you couldn’t say you were surprised by what you saw. cassette tapes were strewn everywhere, most of which were bands that you had recognized and some you didn’t, a few receipts were also scattered on the floorboards in the front and the back, an empty cigarette pack laid next to your feet; a denim jacket was laid out in the backseat, though it wasn’t covered in patches and pins like his vest, along with his backpack that sat right next to it, unmoved.

you knew of eddie, since he was in your english class, but you didn’t know him very well, if at all. the only thing you really knew about him was that he was theatrical, eccentric, had been held back twice for failing a majority, if not all, of his classes, and that your boyfriend couldn’t stand him at all. you always felt bad for him whenever jason and his buddies picked on him. you had stood up for him, demanded that jason cut his shit out and leave him alone, only to be met with, “he’s a freak, y/n. people like that deserve to be made fun of.”

eddie cleared his throat and you were pulled from your thoughts, shifting in your seat like you had just been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

“sorry,” you said shyly, wringing your hands together in your lap as you looked down at them.

“don’t be,” eddie shook his head. “i know it’s a bit of a mess in here.”

“oh no, that’s not what i thought at all,” you stammered. “really.”

he looked at you with a raised brow, almost like he didn’t believe a word coming out of your mouth.

he didn’t.

“right,” he scoffed, opening the black metal box he had sitting in his lap. he took the bag of weed out and held it up for you to see, his brown eyes fixated on you. “anyway, i’ll do you a half ounce for, uh…twenty. whaddya say? plenty of bang for your buck. should last a while.”

a group of students walked by, all laughing rambunctiously, and you turned your head in their direction. your chest was heaving slightly, and your eyes were wide with anxiety as you scanned the crowd. a small part of you was worried it was jason and his friends ⎯ that he had come looking for you and would find you here with eddie. you didn’t care about what he would say to you, but more-so what he would say and do to him. the thought made you shudder.

“hey, uh, we don’t need to do this,” eddie rolled his eyes, putting the baggie back inside the metal box and closing it up. “just give me the word and i’ll walk away. or, you can walk away.”

he was annoyed. why did he even agree to sell to you in the first place? he wasn’t in dire need of money ⎯ he had made more than enough earlier in the day when trevor mcclendon bought over a hundred dollars worth of cocaine for the party he was throwing that upcoming saturday. and even if he was, he definitely didn’t need the money from jason carver’s girlfriend. of all people.

“no, no! i-i don’t want that,” you flicked your gaze back to him.

eddie turned to look at you at the exact same time, meeting your gaze. his hardened exterior faltered the second he looked into your eyes. you were scared. no? anxious? no. desperate? that seemed more like it. not desperate in the way that you had gone a long time without weed and needed a fix ⎯ no, he had seen that look one too many times to know that isn’t what was going on with you. it was one that called for help, that begged for it, and it left him wildly intrigued.

“have you ever felt…forced to be someone that you’re not?”

your voice was low, barely above a whisper, and eddie may have missed it had he not been watching you like a hawk.

everything about your body language screamed that you were uncomfortable with even talking about it. your hands were fidgeting in your lap, you kept shifting in the seat, chewing on the corner of your lip, your eyes quickly darting to look anywhere but at eddie. he didn’t expect this coming from you. not that he knew you well enough to say that this was completely out of character for you ⎯ he just didn’t think the ‘queen of hawkins high’ would ever be pretending to be someone that she wasn’t.

“uhh, well, i used to,” he cleared his throat. “back in like middle school, and shit? but uhh…then i realized it didn’t do much, ‘cauuuse i got shit on anyway, so i just said ‘fuck it’ and started doin’ my own thing. been a looot happier ever since.”

the memories of that time in his life come to the forefront of his mind. of when he got teased a lot for having long hair (though now that he thinks about it, it wouldn’t have been considered long compared to how it is now), when the other kids would laugh and call him poor because his shirts had a hole or two in them, and, of course, for being into dungeons and dragons.

he remembers coming home one day, his little eyes red and puffy from crying. he couldn’t understand why the other kids were so mean to him. all he did was keep to himself, aside from the few friends he had made who happened to like metal just like him. wayne listened to him, held him, as he cried in his lap, begging to just be like everyone else. that maybe, just maybe, they’d leave him alone.

that night, he asked wayne to cut his hair, and even though wayne tried to talk him out of it, eddie was persistent. so, wayne grabbed a pair of scissors and the hair clippers, and did as the kid wished.

he shudders at the thought, shaking his head as if to rid it completely. 

you don’t know how he does it. how he can just be himself despite everything that he gets thrown at him. the other students wouldn’t dare confront him, all being too afraid of what he’d do to them, but you know what they say behind his back. devil worshipper. cult leader. freak. weirdo. 

sitting here with him, in his van, and seeing the slight vulnerability he’s sharing with you, you start to think maybe eddie isn’t as bad as everyone makes him out to be.

you must have been silent for some time, lost in a train of thought, because eddie’s voice pulls you back into the present.

“you know, this isn’t the first time we’ve, um, hung out.”

“no?”

“you don’t remember?”

when did that happen? you tried to wrack your brain for when you had ever hung out with eddie munson.

“uh, i’m sorry,” you chuckled awkwardly, shaking your head.

“it’s okay. i wouldn’t remember me either, y/n,” he said in a funny voice, making you giggle.

“you really don’t remember me?” he asked, looking at you like he couldn’t believe you, his arms crossed in front of him. 

“i’m sorry!” you giggled, putting your hands over your face playfully, trying to hide from him.

“middle school talent show,” he said and you took your hands off of your face, listening to him intently. “you were doing the cheer thing that you do? which was kinda cool, actually.”

he made a high v and diagonal motion, though it was really bad and made you chuckle. suddenly it hits you, the memory of that day, and you gasp in realization. 

“oh my god, yes! you were with uhh, your band…uhh,” you snapped your fingers several times, hoping it would come to you. “corroded coffin!!” 

“yes!” he punched the air excitedly, clapping. “you do remember!”

“jesus,” you laughed, beaming as you looked over at him. “i shared my french fries with you that day! how could i forget?”

it all came to you — sitting next to eddie backstage before your performance, striking up casual conversation with him that turned into the two of you giggling uncontrollably, sharing the french fries that came with the burger meal your father had brought you.

“i dunno, maybe i wasn’t as memorable to you as i hoped i’d be,” he admitted, chewing the corner of his lip, brown eyes still trained on you.

he had the tiniest crush on you back then, though it was extremely short lived once he realized that day at the talent show was all it would ever be between the two of you. you had your circle, he had his — your worlds were never meant to collide.

“no, it’s just you looked soo..diff—.”

“different? yeah,” he chuckled. “well, my hair was buzzed and i didn’t have these sweet ol’ tatties yet.”

giggling, you glanced at where eddie had pulled down the front of his shirt, noticing the black ink barely poking out, a stark contrast against his creamy skin.

“you played guitar, right?”

“yup,” he nodded, beaming with pride. “still do.”

“i remember thinking you were pretty good,” you admitted, the memory of watching him play with his band from the side of the stage flashing in your mind.

eddie’s smile grew. that same feeling he had all those years ago, when you first sat next to him backstage at the middle school talent show, came crashing back to him like a tidal wave.

“uh, so, in other good news, flattery works with me, so…twenty-five percent discount for the half,” he said as he flipped open the black metal box and took the bag of weed out again. “fifteen bucks. you’re robbing me blind here, ya know.”

“oh god, eddie, no,” you shook your head. “no, you don’t have to do that.”

“really! it’s no biggie,” eddie insisted, reaching over the middle console to hand the bag to you.

“no!” you giggled, pulling the twenty dollar bill tucked away in the back pocket of your jeans. “i’m not gonna cut you short.”

before he could protest, you took the bag and slipped the twenty into his hand as fast as you could, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth.

he playfully rolled his eyes, but accepted your offer nonetheless. you stuffed the weed into the front part of your backpack, making sure it was safe and secure. when you finished, you turned to look at him.

“thanks, eddie,” you smiled gratefully.

“anytime,” he replied with a genuine smile.

your gaze lingered a moment longer before opening the door to leave. you hopped out first, wincing as the bitter cold hit you like a ton of bricks, then, grabbed your backpack. 

“wait!” eddie called out, effectively halting your movements.

you looked at him curiously with a tilt of your head, wondering what else he could have forgotten to tell you.

“you should come see my band play,” he rushed, brows pinched together before softening his expression. “we play at the hideout every tuesday.”

a smile tugged at the corner of your lips, but you tried to hide it. “it’s not a sleazy bar, is it?”

“i mean, it’s not the garden, but you gotta start somewhere,” he chuckled, resting his arm on the middle console as he leaned over. “we usually get a crowd of about fiiiive drunks.”

you laughed, shying away from his gaze for a moment before flitting your eyes back to him. “what time?”

“eight o’clock,” he answered. he didn’t know why he was so nervous about asking you, or why his palms started to sweat whenever you took a while to answer.

you slung your backpack over your right shoulder, smirking at him as you said, “see, ya around, munson.”

[goldenhaz]

Hey you gorgeous people :)

I had this idea a couple days ago, so enjoy. I will start taking requests whenever, so if you have some ideas feel free to message me!

Warning(s): slight physical abuse, angst, fluff

Parents

Tonight was a night you specifically didn’t feel like wanting to be an extrovert.

Usually you were all over the idea of going and getting absolutely shitfaced at a party, but tonight it just didn’t surface.

You had your boyfriend to blame for that. And your parents honestly. As well as your older sibling if you had to list everything.

It hasn’t been your day at all, let alone your week.

Your family had gotten together at the country club to celebrate your older sister’s success at his marketing business he created himself, only for that to also be a time for your parents to shit on you.

Talking about how you needed to take initiative like your sister does, and how she’s the best of the best.

They should’ve just handed you emancipation papers at that point.

Yet being apart of a rich family had its perks at some points, this week wasn’t one of those times you’d remind yourself of your wealth.

Your parents had decided to tell you they’d refuse to pay for college if you did decide to go into your actual major you wanted.

The only way they’d help is if you went into marketing. Like your sister.

It’s as if everything you did now had to live up to not just their expectations, but your sister’s too. It drove you fucking nuts.

On top of it, your boyfriend had been treating you like shit the entire day. When you needed to rant to him about your family, he claimed your issues weren’t as important as his.

His only issues were that his brand new boat had been taken away, and his parents cut off his allowance for the month.

Oh how terrible his life is.

And now the only reason he wanted to go to the party was to get drunk and take some pills she knew his buddies were bringing.

Which meant she had to stay sober, and grumpy all in one.

As Y/N finished getting ready, she unlocked her phone and opened her messages.

From: Y/N

To: Rafe

Hey Rafael

From: Rafe

Oh boy, pretty girl using the full name? Sounds like trouble.

From: Y/N

To: Rafe

Well I’ve gotta stay both sober and grumpy. What do you think?

From: Rafe

Trouble in paradise?

From: Y/N

To: Rafe

Always is. Family issues on top of that, that I can’t drown out with alcohol and weed because dumbass thinks his problems are more important.

From: Rafe

Parents again?

From: Y/N

To: Rafe

Yupper. Want me to be exactly like Y/S/N

From: Rafe

I’ll be there, gorgeous

Y/N took a deep breath, a genuine smile coming to her face at her best friend’s message. If there’s anyone who can make her feel okay, it’s Rafe.

She’s been best friends and family friends with the Cameron family for as long as she could remember.

Rafe and her were the same age, also had gotten along the greatest out of anybody.

It wasn’t until the fifth grade that Y/N her little flutters and butterflies she got when hanging around the Cameron boy, were realizations that she liked him more than a friend.

Yet she had to push that away. He would never feel more for her.

She was snapped out of her daze when a car honked outside, signaling her boyfriend was here.

When she approached his car his music was blasting, and he was smiling like an idiot at his phone.

“One of the guys send you a dick pic or something?” She jokes as she closed the passenger door.

BF/N scoffs and rolled his eyes at her comment, taking off down the street.

“Not any of your business actually.” He shot, earning a scoff and bitter smile from the girl.

“Nothing you do is ever my business anymore,” she snidely comments under her breath.

She didn’t catch the glare and death like stare from her boyfriend next to her, keeping her gaze out the window as they drove.

When they arrived she immediately popped out of the car, slamming his door shut hard on purpose.

“You’re fucking joking right?” His voice snarls a few yards behind her.

She flicks him off, only to get a harsh grip on her wrist. He pulls her back, taking his other hand to grip her jawline and airway harshly.

Y/N choked on the air she had left, her shocked eyes meeting his dark gaze. He has never gotten physical like this with her.

She was on her tip toes while she watched him grit his teeth. “Y/bf/n-“

“Slam my car door again,” he taunts, pulling her by her neck closer to him like a rag doll. “See what happens.”

He pushes her to the side before stomping up the stairs to the large house.

She softly caresses her neck where he grabbed her, standing there by herself as she debated on going in or not.

Y/N looked back towards his car, then down at her keys before looking back at the loud house. Slowly making her decision.

——

The party was loud and crowded when she walked in, smoke in the air.

It was like the aroma of weed was teasing her for not smoking. The temptation was worsening by the second.

She pushed through the crowd searching for any of her friends, much less her boyfriend, smiling softly when she saw the familiar head of hair that belonged to Topper.

He was talking with Kelce and a couple of girls by the balcony, the girl deciding to sneak her way under his arm that kept him propped against the balcony.

Topper looked down at the motion, his gaze brightening at the sight. “Well if it isn’t little miss L/N.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not little, don’t even start.” She jokes, the boys chuckling.

“You’re sober too? How is that possible?” Kelce shoots as he gives her a hug.

“Yeah I’m wishing I wasn’t.” She answers.

“Good thing I’ve got something to start you off then, huh?” A familiar voice cuts in.

Y/N smiles at the blue-eyed boy, his hair now buzzed which looked very good on him. Too good almost. He smirked down at her watching her take the bottle from his hands, as he came to stand next to her and slither a hand around her waist.

“You’re a life saver,” she says before taking a huge gulp. Rafe kisses the side of her head as she leans into his touch that brought her butterflies.

Rafe always made things better for her. Yet it sucked she couldn’t do a thing about it.

Not anymore at least.

“Please,” he chuckles. “It’s the least I can do to help you get through the madness.”

The group all kept talking for a bit until Kelce and Topper got pulled away by the girls to dance. Leaving Rafe and Y/N on their own.

“Where’s the boyfriend at?” He asks, earning an amused scoff.

“That’s like asking where’s Waldo,” she snickered. Rafe snorted as he kept his gaze on the party in front of them.

He realized she was a bit quieter than usual after a few moments, making him furrow his eyebrows.

He nudged her softly with his shoulder. “Where’s miss talks a lot tonight?” He jokes, earning a giggle from her.

“Not in today. Just not in the socializing mood.” She explains, turning her gaze to the view of the island behind her.

Rafe turns out towards the island with her, watching her expression soften and harden at the same time. Like she was debating or fighting on something with herself.

“Hey,” he says, using a couple of his knuckles to softly knock on her head. “What’s going on up here?” He asked.

She shrugs, looking down at her drink before leaning her head on his bicep. “I don’t get why my parents want me to be so perfect like my sister.” Y/N says.

A scoff leaves her lips. “I’m sorry I’m not first fucking born. Or first to create my own company. Or better yet, taking a year off from classes.” She rants, Rafe noticing her eyes glossing over with tears.

She looks at him before shaking her head and sighing, not realizing that her words might have hit him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just they expect me to be her. Like they regret-“

“Like they’re regret you?” He finishes for her, Y/N nodding.

“I know that first hand.” He says, knowing she gets it. She’s seen how much he tries to please Ward.

“When we went out for dinner the other night they were only talking about her accomplishments. How I should be more like her. How I’d be better like her.” She rants, Rafe just listening.

Y/N was such a confident and outgoing woman in his eyes. He doesn’t understand how her parents could easily swipe her under a rug as if she meant nothing.

She is everything.

Yet he got her pain in every single way.

She sighs as she wrapped her small hand around his bicep and squeezed. His heart beating faster by her touch.

The pair were silent after a few moments, Y/N finishing her beer and looking down at the bottle.

“I think I’m gonna head home. Or somewhere honestly. I don’t feel like going home really.” She chuckles bitterly.

He looks over at her, fingers turning her chin slightly to look back at him once again.

It was making her stomach flutter.

“What about mine?” He asks, his eyes darting to her lips for a split second then back to her eyes.

She frowns. “I don’t want to make you leave here. I know you enjoy your nights out,”

“I only came tonight because you needed someone here that wasn’t going to drive you mental in the next five minutes,” he jokes, her playfully shoving his arm.

“But seriously,” he says. “We can head back to mine and figure out what to do. We always find something to distract ourselves.” He suggests, her head instantly nodding.

Rafe puts his hand out for her to take, Y/N lacing her hand with his as he leads her towards the crowd.

As they’re making their way to the door, Rafe halts. She is about to ask him, but is suddenly up against the wall and Rafe was all she could see.

His body was covering hers, he turned back quickly to look down at her. His gaze is dark which made her feel some type of way.

“Rafe what’s-“

“You trust me?” He says, she nods. “I need words, Y/N.”

His tone dark made her pulse down south. “Yes,” she breathes out. He clears his throat, looking behind himself and then back down at her.

Their height difference was almost two heads worth, Y/N having to look straight up when she stared in Rafe’s eyes.

She felt his hands wrap around her hips in a protective grip, his fingers skimming the sliver of skin that was peeking out from under her shirt.

Goosebumps immediately made their way across her skin.

She tried to look behind him to see what he kept looking at, Rafe instantly catching on and making her eyes meet his. He placed his hand on the side of her throat, his thumb resting on her chin.

She tries her best to ignore and push down the flutters in her stomach and small pulsing in her core when he gets closer to her. His lips brushed her ear.

“Whatever you do, don’t look behind me, and don’t leave my side.” He states, and she frowns in confusion.

His hands leave her sides, the warmth she felt going away sadly. Only for one hand of his to wrap tightly around her waist as he ushers her quickly towards the front door.

Y/N let’s her curiosity get the best of her, leaning her head to look behind Rafe’s broad shoulders.

Her heart shattering and crunching immediately.

Her boyfriend, now ex, seen having a steamy make out session with another girl in the corner. Hand running all over her.

Y/N’s chin is grabbed and faced back to Rafe as they kept walking. “I told you not to look.” He snarls, the anger in his voice towards her now ex boyfriend.

When they got to his car, the ride back was silent. His hand caressed her thigh comforting her in whatever way he could in that moment.

He knew she would talk when she was ready, so he didn’t think to push her.

Y/N on the other hand wasn’t sad or upset. She wasn’t even really feeling heartbroken anymore.

With how her boyfriend had her in a chokehold earlier, she only felt angry. She felt like she really was not worth shit to anyone really.

She was anxiously biting her lip, knee bouncing impatiently.

Was she really that little worth to him? To her family?

Was she really that much of a nuisance?

Y/N couldn’t think straight with Rafe’s soothing touch high on her thigh as they drove, those feelings she’s had since fifth grade coming to scratch the surface again.

That was one other thing she didn’t fucking need to deal with once again.

When they pulled into Rafe’s house, she didn’t even let him out the car into park as she opened the door and got out.

“Slow down,” Rafe’s voice called out, his own door slamming when he turned off the engine.

She didn’t listen, she just kept walking.

When they got inside, she took a deep breath. The door shut behind her, Rafe touching her arm cautiously.

“Are you okay?” He starts, then letting a huff leave his lips. “Dumb question. I already know the answer.” He sighs, earning a chuckle from her.

She ran her hands through her hair, turning to face and look up at him.

Her eyes got a better look at him in the light the room brought. His jawline was more sculpted, a tiny bit of stubble could be seen on his face. The buzzcut and tan somehow managed to make his eyes pop.

So much for not hiding her old feelings.

“Y/N?” He mutters, watching her shake her head.

She pursed her lips and shot him a fake smile. “Anybody home?”

He shook his head. “Dad and Rose are on the mainland for the week, Sarah is with John B and Wheezie’s with my grandparents.” He explains, she nods.

“Let’s go for a swim shall we?” She suggests, immediately walking off towards the backyard.

Rafe frowns at her mood change, knowing immediately something is more than wrong. She was at a breaking point.

“Y/n/n, why don’t we talk about what’s going on?” He asks slowly, following her out to the backyard.

His mouth dries as he watched her remove her shirt, shimmying out of her shorts and looking back at the Cameron boy.

“You joining me or what, Cameron?” She says, diving into the deeper end of the lit up pool.

He wanted to. He wanted to join so bad, but he was more than concerned for her at this point. He watches as she resurfaces, pushing her hair away from her face.

“Rafe, come on!” She whines out.

“Y/n/n-“

“Stop pulling me back to reality right now, I wanna have some fun!” She laughs out, but stops immediately when she gets an idea.

“We need some fine wine!” She says, pushing herself out of the pool. Rafe’s eyes can’t help but scan her backside as she quickly makes her way to the outdoor bar, scavenging the fridge.

She pulls out a couple bottles, using the wine opener to open both. She pours a couple glasses, holding both up. “Here’s yours, my good sir,” she chuckles, chugging her cup of wine down and setting it back onto the counter.

Rafe looks at her with a pity gaze. “Y/n/n,” he sighs sadly, watching her lip quiver.

She holds his up, signaling a cheers before downing his glass down. Rafe is quick to her side, putting his hands on her wrists to stop her from going further.

She doesn’t put up a fight, tears falling freely. Rafe takes the glass from her hand, setting next to the other empty one.

The girl shook her head. “I don’t fucking get it.” She whimpers.

He looks at her with a questioning stare. “Get what?” He asks, the girl silent for a few more moments.

“Life, I guess,” she starts before sniffling. “Feelings mainly.”

He freezes. “What do you mean?”

Y/N shakes her head. “I should be absolutely heartbroken that he cheated. I should be sad, and upset with him, but I’m not.”

He stays silent, letting her talk more.

“I’m more mad at the fact that I just can’t be good for anybody. That’s what his actions showed me,” she rants. “First my parents, and now him? Sure, he was a piece of shit, but still.” She chuckled bitterly.

The girl begins to pace in front of Rafe, whose heart is tightening at her words.

She really didn’t see how much she means to him, did she?

“And the fact that I would’ve probably been the first to cheat on him. I was so close. So so close,” she scoffs, running her hands through her hair.

Rafe furrows his brows. “Why?” He asks, hoping the question wouldn’t offend her.

She stops pacing.

Bad idea on his part.

Her eyes look into his own, Rafe seeing the inner debate she was having behind her gaze. Her words she spoke next are what instantly made him freeze.

“Because I wanted you,” she starts, then shaking her head. “Because I want you.” She fixes.

Rafe instantly feels his heart stutter at her words. “Y/N, you would’ve,” he trails off, running a hand through his hair as he steps closer to her. “Why? Wh-why me? When did you- how even- what?” He stutters.

Y/N scoffs, poking her tongue at the inside of her cheek.

“Because look at you, Rafe,” she admits. “Look at you, look at how you treat me, look at how you act with me. It’s everything I should’ve gone for a long time ago.”

“A long time ago? How long?” He asks.

She bit her lip, crossing her arms over her chest. Rafe is immediately standing right in front of her, his hands grabbing her jaw to look up at him.

“How long, y/n/n?”

She looks between his eyes. “Fifth grade.”

Rafe’s heart exploded. He wants to smile and laugh and cry. But he knew right now was not that time.

“Look, you don’t need to say anything-“

“Fourth grade.” He answers, nodding to himself. Her eyes looking at him. He grins softly down at her.

“Rafe,” she whispers, earning a hum back as a response.

“Please kiss me. For the the fucking love of-“

He doesn’t let her finish, only shutting her up with a French kiss. Her stomach immediately explodes in fireworks, her hands going to wrap around his wrists that held her face.

Their lips moved in sync as if they were two puzzle pieces.

His hands soon left her face and began trailing down her body to rest on her hips, gripping them for dear life.

“Rafe,” she says in between kisses. “Hm?” He hums, their lips never stopping.

“Take me up to your room?” She gasps while his lips move down her neck instantly. He pulls away from her neck a few moments later, his eyes droopy as if he was drunk on her. “Yeah, mhm, definitely.” He answers.

He grips her hips and lifts her up, wrapping around his waist immediately before he began kissing her again.

[starryeyedmunson]

Hi!!! Can I please request a fic with Eddie where the reader is not necessarily jealous but is kinda worried about how much time Eddie has been spending with Chrissy, but Eddie reassures her that him and Chrissy are just friends and tells her that he could invite Chrissy to hang out with them so she can see for herself there’s absolutely no reason to be worried? Idk if this makes sense lol

promise! - e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you loved your boyfriend, and he loved you. but something was bothering you about that damn Chrissy Cunningham

warnings: some swearing, not really anything else, a single word that shows my american ass has been watching a little too much love island

author's note: LOVE this idea. i did however go a little overboard with the whole reader being a cunt thing. what can i say i, myself, am a cunt. hopefully i did some justice!!

word count: 2.7k

You were no Phoebe Cates. You wouldn’t say you’re completely terrifying to look at, but you weren’t exactly the stereotypical hot, sexy bombshell that everyone thought about when they had their hand down their pants. The more you thought about it, the more pissed you got, because while you were pretty middle tier, Phoebe Cates wasn’t the only girl you compared yourself to.

You were also no Chrissy Cunningham.

Her perfectly curled ponytail. Her legs. Her big eyes. Her sweet, high-pitched voice. The way her smile was so goddamn contagious. There wasn’t a soul in Hawkins High that didn’t like Chrissy; including your boyfriend. And it was fuckin’ nauseating.

For some unknown reason, she had decided to buy weed from Eddie, and ever since their little meetup in his usual drop site they’ve been actually friends. She practically put her whole social reputation on the line by saying hi to him every day, and he was a little too enthusiastic in his responses. Like today, for example. She walked by and gave him a little wave, and he hit her with a “Hey, princess.”

Princess? Princess? The fuck was that supposed to mean? Eddie had never called you princess in his life, not once. You felt your fists clenching around your water bottle, and you could hear the crackling of the plastic as your grip tightened. Your eyes were trained on the middle of the table until Mike waved his hand in your face. You didn’t even look up from the table at the black-haired boy across from you.

“Can you drive me home after Hellfire tonight? Nancy’s got some paper she has to edit or something,” he asked, and you gave a small nod. Mike’s eyes narrowed and his eyebrows raised, but when you shot him the bitchiest look he had ever seen, he choked on his food and looked straight ahead. You felt Eddie’s arm rest on the back of your chair, but you didn’t lean into him like you normally would. He was deep in conversation with Gareth and Jeff, mindlessly scratching your back with his light touch. You suddenly pushed back from the table and got up, still gripping the water bottle. Eddie looked up at your sudden movement, but you were already storming off.

“Baby, where are you going?” he called after you.

“The bathroom,” you growled back, not even looking in his direction. He slowly faced the table with concern all over his face, but everyone had the same confused expression. Except for Mike.

“What the hell was that?” Dustin asked, but Eddie shrugged. He looked at Mike and narrowed his eyes.

“What do you know, Wheeler?” Eddie asked, but Mike gave him a sigh.

“I don’t know anything. All I do is see.” Eddie cocked an eyebrow.

“And what do your wise, 14 year old eyes see?” he said, clearly done with the bullshit.

“I have a sister, so when I see it I recognize it immediately.”

“Cut the shit, Gandalf. What is it?”

“Sometimes when Nancy gets off the phone with Jonathan, she slams the phone down on the receiver. And if she talks to him before dinner, she walks down the stairs so goddamn loud and, like, almost breaks the plate with her fork. It’s like she’s pretending the food is Jonathan and stabbing it so fuckin’ hard. So yeah, same shit different toilet,” Mike said casually, still playing with his food. Eddie sat and stared at him as he tried to figure out what could have possibly gotten so mad at. The bell ringing snapped him out of it, and he slowly got his stuff together and walked towards his class.

You, on the other hand, had made it all the way to your car, but not without seeing the completely unaware villain in your relationship.

“Hey, Y/N!” she said. You were taken aback, honestly surprised that she even knew your name. She definitely knew your boyfriend’s, but it didn’t cross your mind that you would ever be a topic of conversation. Maybe she had asked him if you guys were together. What if he said no? He wouldn’t do that, he loves you. What if he doesn’t though? 

During this entire tidal wave of thoughts, you had dissociated, blankly staring at her without opening your mouth. You were drawn back to reality a little too late; she had already turned around and was whispering to another cheerleader, probably talking some shit. You turned from shocked to absolutely livid, and you stomped out of the school, almost breaking the front doors as you shoved them open.

When you got to your car, you borderline ripped the door handle off, getting inside and slamming it shut. You ditched the rest of the day. Was that an overreaction? Maybe. But you were already home so you just decided to take a nap and cool off for a while.

You shot up after a concerning amount of hours, disoriented and hazy, to the sound of your phone ringing. You reached for it, dropping the phone on the way towards your ear.

“Oops,” you muttered, lazily grabbing it again and bringing it up to your head. “Hello?”

“Are you coming to pick me up still? Make it quick cause Eddie’s going to rip my head off if I hold off this campaign any longer,” Mike said quickly. You raised your eyebrow, taking the phone off your ear and looking at it in disbelief.

“Talk to me like that again and my foot will be so far up your ass you’ll feel it in your throat,” you snapped. “But yes, I will come get you. Seven, right?”

“Sorry,” Mike said in a small voice. “Yeah, thanks mom!” You rolled your eyes and hung up the phone, falling back into your bed after remembering why you fell asleep at one in the afternoon in the first place. You groaned thinking about the small interaction, the word princess still fresh in your mind. After about an hour of staring at the ceiling and letting your frustrations pent their way back up in your brain, you rolled out of bed and put your shoes back on, still in the same clothes from the school day. You moseyed out of the house and to your car, the drive helping you clear your thoughts.

You pulled into the school parking lot just in time to meet the guys outside. You sat in the car as Mike walked over to you, but you didn’t see the smirk on his face. He walked over to your side of the vehicle, and you raised your eyebrows.

“You driving?” you said with a laugh.

“Can I?”

“Get in the car, smart ass.”

“About that,” he started, and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Dustin’s mom is gonna drive me home.” You pinched the bridge of your nose before looking back up at his smiling face.

“Well you better get in her car right now because I’m two seconds away from hitting you with mine,” you seethed, pissed off that he had just made you drive all the way to school for literally no reason. His smirk never ceased, and he looked over the hood of your car.

“Well, she’s all yours,” he said, and your head snapped towards the passenger side. You knew exactly who you were looking at; you recognized those ringed fingers curled over the door where the window was down. You didn’t even look at Mike as he ran away from the car and got into Dustin’s, your mind too focused on Eddie getting into the car. He sat down, gently closing the door before turning to you. He scratched the back of his neck and took a deep breath, but you looked at him deadpanned.

“So,” he said slowly. “How was playing hooky?” You didn’t speak, and he sighed again. “Alright fine, I know you’re mad and I know something happened at lunch but I really don’t know what it is so can you just talk to me, baby? Please? You’re killin’ me over here," he said in one breath. His eyes were big and filled with nerves and pleading. He knew you couldn’t say no to him, and he watched as you huffed and rolled your eyes.

“It’s just- like you don’t- it’s ann- princess? Why the fuck are you calling Chrissy Cunningham princess? Are you hitting on her? Do I not do it for you anymore? Do you need an upgrade from me to the reigning queen of this stupid school? Or maybe you just wanna-”

You were effectively shut up by Eddie kissing you harshly, and you just sat there unmoving. His hand was cupping your cheek, and you came back to your senses and grabbed his hand and shoved it down, pulling back from him. He laughed at you, and you were fuming. “Oh you think this is funny, Eddie?” you said, and his face immediately straightened. He heard his name and knew he was in some serious trouble.

“Baby,” he said, putting his hand over yours. “I only called Chrissy a princess because I make fun of the fact that everyone practically bows in her presence. It’s not a pet name, think of it as more of a jab!” he tried to say enthusiastically. but you were not biting. He sighed, trying to comfort you some more. “Look, I can see why that’s shitty to hear. I’ll stop, I promise. But please do not think that you don’t do it for me anymore, you’ll always do it for me. There’s no one in this world that could do it for me better than you, darling.”

It was exactly what you wanted to hear, which was exactly why you weren’t buying it.

“Then why do you get all excited when you see her in the hallways? Why do you do that stupid little smirk when she walks by, hm? It sucks, Eds,” you said, tears almost spilling from your eyes. Even in the dark he could see your wet eyes, and he softly took your face in his hands.

“She’s just a friend that happens to be a girl, baby, I promise. No Chrissy Cunningham could ever replace you. In fact, why don’t you meet her? She practically knows everything about you given how much I talk about you,” he said. You perked up at the comment, but narrowed your eyes anyway.

“I don’t think I want to,” you said hesitantly.

“Okay, I won’t push it,” he sighed, knowing when he was losing a conversation. “I really do think you’d like her, though. She reminds me of you!”

“Not helping, Munson.”

“That one was on me,” he said. You tried not to laugh, but looking at him tense up in anticipation had you let out a small giggle. He laughed nervously, his eyebrows furrowed as he waited for you to say something.

“Fine, I’ll meet her. But don’t expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows from the get,” you said with a stern ending. He nodded his head vigorously, his grip tightening on your hand.

“You’re going to love her, baby, I promise.”

“You’ve said ‘I promise,’ like, 8 times, and it’s starting to lose meaning,” you teased.

“I swear?”

“You’re stupid.” He gave you a smile and brought your hand up to his mouth, lightly kissing your knuckles. You smiled back, and he dropped your hand with a sigh.

“Come out to my drop site tomorrow, and I’ll tell her to come meet us there. Sound good?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for any discomfort or hesitance.

“Alright, yeah,” you said after taking a deep breath. He grinned, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

“I love you, so so much, baby,” he said, his forehead resting against yours. You just sighed, and he pulled back with a flat look on his face. “Say it back.” You laughed and rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I love you too,” you said. His childish smile was all over, and he jumped out of the car and said goodbye. You started your car and drove home, unsure of what was going to come from your little ‘playdate’ tomorrow.

-

After eating lunch, you walked with Eddie hand-in-hand towards the woods, his thumb running circles over your own. You stayed pretty quiet once you reached the woods, sitting down on the table top and putting your arms between your knees. Eddie noticed your timid disposition, and he walked over in front of you and put his hands on your knees.

“There’s nothing to worry about, darling. I prom- I swear,” he said. You couldn’t help but laugh, and he smiled at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. The tender moment was interrupted by the cracking of dried leaves from behind you, but you refused to look past Eddie’s frame. He cupped your cheeks and quickly kissed your lips before turning around. He gave Chrissy a smile, bringing her in for a side hug when she finally approached the table. She moved from behind Eddie, giving you a full view of her annoyingly adorable smile.

“Hey, Y/N!” she said, giving you a shy wave. You put on a smile, giving her a single wave in return. “I’ve heard so much about you, Eddie talks about you all the time.”

“So I’ve been told,” you muttered. Chrissy looked around nervously, and Eddie awkwardly coughed. There was a weird silence that set in, and you knew you were the only person who could break it. “So, do you do anything else besides cheerleading?” Eddie let out another cough, turning into a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Honestly not really, I just kind of focus on school and stuff,” she shrugged. You hummed in response, not really knowing what to say next. “Wait, we have the same Biology teacher right? Are you ready for her test on Thursday?”

You realized that you were indeed in the same class as her. “Uh, yeah we do. I’m definitely not ready though, I haven’t studied yet.”

“Would you want to study together? This test is probably going to be really hard,” she said, smiling.

She was perfect. Fuck her.

But when you looked at Eddie’s pleading eyes, you had to give in.

“Yeah, sure,” you said, feigning a smile yourself. You heard Eddie let out the breath he had been holding in.

“Cool! You can come to my house tonight if you don't have any plans, and we could make flashcards and quiz each other. Except I can’t study without music if that’s okay with you,” she said. You raised your eyebrows, not because you were annoyed, but because you were the same way.

“Only if it’s from the 70s,” you said, eyeing her. She lit up, much to your surprise.

“Fleetwood Mac is, like, all I listen to when I study. It’s the perfect background noise,” she said, and for the first time the smile on your face was genuine.

Okay maybe not "fuck her."

“Really?” you said, and she nodded her head. “Finally, someone with good taste.”

Eddie’s head snapped over to yours. “Excuse me?” You laughed and winked at him, and he sat there with his mouth open. You heard the bell ring in the distance, and Chrissy turned around for a moment to look back at the school.

“Wanna walk back together?” she asked the both of you, and you nodded your head. You grabbed your stuff, handing Eddie his little box of felony charges with a smile. You hopped off the table, but instead of moving to be next to Eddie, you started walking with Chrissy. Eddie put his hands up in confused irritation, but you didn’t even look at him as you walked back towards the school talking about “Rumours” with Chrissy. You made it back to the building, wishing Chrissy a goodbye as she walked inside. You turned back around to Eddie, his eyebrows raised and arms crossed.

“What? Fine, I like her, whatever,” you said. He smirked, walking over to you.

“I feel like I should be the one who’s worried here, darling,” he said, and you smacked his arm. “But I’m glad you liked her.”

“Yeah, now I feel pretty stupid,” you laughed out, but Eddie just shook his head and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“No, no, no, don’t feel stupid. It’s cute that you get protective like you did,” he said, kissing your nose. You smiled and did it back to him, causing the same smile to appear on his face. “I did promise, though didn’t I?”

“What’d I say about that word, Munson?”

“But I did!” he fought back, and you laughed and pulled him in again.

[matrixonvhsanddvd]

Here's my set up!

In England most ppl do use roll ups. U tend to find that ppl who only smoke straights (pre rolled) are older ppl, ppl who have more money and ppl who don't smoke often enuff to bother. A packet of straights can last a really long time and will keep better than a packet of baccy (loose tobacco) as there's less to dry out.

I use a rolling tin because i cant roll freehand for shit no matter what (and im a handy person, its just too fiddly for me), it's easier to do while walking and i have physical difficulties. It's rare that i see anyone else use a tin, i only started because my bff did! It's not uncommon for ppl to use a rolling machine tho, which is like a tin that's been reduced to just the liner and..rolling pins?

Tins are no more expensive than a good rolling machine and tend to last longer. I prefer to change the liner when it dies rather than but a new one tho. They can be annoying to clean if u care about that but they're useful in that they can hold ur supplies! And put stickers on :3

A packet of tobacco is usually about 30g for £12-17 (tho average is about £14) now from a regular supermarket. It did used to be less before the recent inflation :( a 20 pack of pre rolls is about the same price. To give u an idea of how much more cost effective roll ups are than straights; a 20 pack currently would last me 2-4 days (IV had to cut down coz i have no money lol but this is numbers only, not counting factors like poverty) and 30gs of baccy would last me 2-3 weeks.

It's still common to see empty cigarette packets littering places and u will occasionally see a tobacco packet. They're all decorated now with warnings and warning images due to the law, all packets. They have different warnings and related pictures they get used but I'm not sure how often new ones are added? This one is my favourite atm for sure:

It's also useful to at least have the ability and resources to make a roll up if ur ever desperate/smoke drugs. Old fags on the floor can be picked up and u can squeeze any unsmoked baccy out into a bag to use for a Frankenstein roll up. I tend to find certain brands of straight cigarettes only get half smoked ?? Very good pickings if ur bottom of the food chain.

Its also easier to roll a spliff if u can...roll lol (spliff as i know it to be is a regular fag sized roll up with a blend of baccy and weed) and any other combo of smoking materials (other drugs, herbs etc).

On community culture (i promise this is the last bit), rolling sumone a fag is way more intimate and thotful than just handing em a straight (tho depending on ur Poverty Status™ it may be difficult to accept a straight due to their higher value). There's also the act of passing on the rest of ur fag to another person, usually towards the end of its life. Here that's called, 'twos'. So itd be, 'can i have 2s?' or, 'u can have 2s if u want?' which is a fun word for it i think!

Sorry to ramble but i figured ud be interested and i enjoy teaching ppl about menial things like this lol

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

Holy fuck thank you so much for detailing all this to me, I was honestly really happy reading all of this because it interested me so much. It's funny to me still how the demographic for rolling cigs here is usually the polar opposite lol, it seems its always people who are a lot older who enjoy rolling them up more than just buying a pack of straight cigs.

Also I absolutely love the pack you showed off of course, I'm always a sucker for the ones with "gore" on them, but also I've just never seen a tobacco pack before so that's really sick, thank you!

I guess if someday I'm ever down in England for some reason, I will be very caught up on smoking culture at least. Thank you again for sharing lol

[psychedelic-ink]

kinktober '22 ║ Ⅷ

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, dark content

word count: 2.7k

summary: dieter is a mess, but you enjoy being with him nonetheless. but things start to change when a friend of his comes for a visit.

warnings: hollywood cult, dark!dieter bravo, manipulation, gaslighting, blackmail, dubcon, weed use, psychological thriller elements, eerie imagery, piv, creampie, breeding kink

a/n: for some reason I struggled A LOT while writing this (ironically it's my longest kinktober piece) I haven't written dark content for a long time and wrote little of it on this blog so it was hard for me to get back into it-- but luckily @pedrito-friskito is an absolute angel who listened to me rant about this and pitched in amazing ideas to make this whole concept interesting, thank you so much for your support babes, ilysm 🧡🧡

MLISTS .  LIBRARY. TAGLIST . KINKTOBER '22

Dieter Bravo is a dream. 

You don’t know what it is that draws you to him. He’s a mess, you’re pretty sure if you cut into his arm cocaine will pour from his veins. He’s an actor, a painter. Which is how you met him in the first place. You saw him on the beach, painting the sunset. When he noticed you checking him out, he grinned, asking you to be his muse. 

The fact that he’s a mess makes you feel safe. You’re more of an emotional mess yourself. Never showing anyone how fucked up you are inside. His chaos soothes you, and you wrap that same chaos around you like a security blanket. To a degree, Dieter understands you. He knows what it’s like to feel lonely, to not want to get out of bed and just stare up into the ceiling. He understands the need to surrender yourself to another just to escape your daunting thoughts. 

That understanding leads you to the series of best sexual experiences you ever had. Dieter shies away from absolutely nothing. He breaks you apart and puts you back together like a weird, humanoid puzzle. He talks to you in a way that no man, or woman, never has. You fucked on top of every surface his home has to offer, you’ve come on his tongue, fingers, cock. You’ve forgotten about work, friends, and sometimes even yourself. If you could replace the air in your lungs with Dieter, you would have. 

One day you meet one of his friends. It’s a first. His name is Eliot Abbot and he talks a lot about “helping those in need” but it’s condescending. He believes to have control over the human mind, that religion is dying and someone needs to take the helm because humankind is helpless. He argues that the way to do this is subliminal messaging. He boldly claims that he can provide true happiness when people surrender themselves to another. When he leaves, you have an unsettling feeling stirring in your gut. Dieter’s on the couch, a joint between his lips as he scrolls on his phone. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks before you can say anything. 

“Nothing…” you reply, his eyes move away from his phone screen to look at you, his eyebrow raised. A trembling sigh escapes your lips. “Fine, maybe not nothing. He’s a bit weird isn’t he? All that talk about how people need to surrender…Isn't that odd?” 

“He’s just trying to help baby,” Dieter reaches out to you, you take his hand and he pulls you into his lap. “Just forget about him– here,” 

He places the lit joint between your lips, you take a deep puff, the cannabis filling your lungs and making your limbs feel like jello. By the time he pulls it back you’re smiling like an idiot. Dieter brings it to his lips, making a show of sucking on the but of it, his eyes sparkle as your pupils dilate.  He smiles around the joint, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip. You part your mouth for him, and he leans closer, blowing the smoke directly into your mouth right before closing the distance and claiming your lips as his own. 

It’s a slow kiss. Similar to the smoke curling out and away from the corners of your lips. He licks the inside of your mouth, groaning as he guides the sloppy roll of your hips. The blunt crumbles to ashes as it lays against the ashtray. Dieter sucks on your bottom lip while pulling away, a needy breath is forced out of your lungs. 

“Would you surrender yourself to me?” he asks, voice deep and words slurred. 

“Of course,” you answer in a pleading breath. 

“I want to take you somewhere tomorrow,” his lips find the column of your neck, sucking the sensitive skin gently. 

Then, much to your dismay, he pulls away. Suddenly you find yourself back sitting on the couch, he’s heading to the bedroom, not looking in your direction even once. 

“I’m tired,” he says with a groggy voice that wasn’t there before. “Let’s go to bed,” 

He disappears into the large halls of his mansion. Your heart aches. It feels like a knife to your heart. This is the first time Dieter has ever left you needy and aching for him, you were sure he was hard under you, you had felt the length of his cock sliding against your core when you grinded down on him. Have you done something to upset him? Was it because you said his friend is weird? 

The feeling of emptiness lingers and in that moment you swear never to upset him again. 

But then light returns to your world. 

He’s back with a wide smile and open arms. He hugs you close to his chest and lifts you from your feet, heading to the bedroom. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. “That was mean of me, I wasn’t thinking sweet thing,” 

You can barely hear him from the excited beating of your own heart. Dieter lays you down onto the bed, it creaks underneath your combined weight. Your lips part with a gasp. The tip of his tongue slowly goes up and down your sensitive clit. He grins and looks up, meeting your gaze. 

“How did you feel when I left?”

It’s an odd question but you answer him without a second thought. 

“Sad. Empty–” his tongue touches you again, a moan ripples in your chest. You choke out the rest of your answer. “Please don’t ever leave me,” 

Dieter doesn’t answer your plea, instead he asks another question. His mouth opens and swallows your clit whole. Your fingers dig into the soft sheets that lay underneath. 

“What do you want, baby?” 

“Everything,” you gasp. “I want you to take everything and give me everything.” 

“Dieter, what is all this?” 

The atmosphere is bright, the chateau providing an elegant air to the party. You have no idea how Dieter found such a place but it is exquisite. You see actors that you recognize, even some directors. They’re all chatting along as if they were inside a bubble. Champagne glasses are being served left and right, with the corner of your eye you see Eliot. He’s not carrying the same power and charisma he had brought when you first met him. You swallow and Dieter offers you a glass of champagne, you eye the strawberry floating inside of it as if it was a part of meat.

There is cheer and humor in the air, but something seems incredibly wrong. You feel trapped, claustrophobic. You just can’t pinpoint why. Dieter is still the same, making jokes with cannabis filling his lungs. His lips touch the shell of your ear, his breath warm against your skin. 

“This is for you,” 

“For me?” 

Silence cuts through the air, everyone turns to the two of you at the same time, their eyes full of curiosity. The small hair decorating your nape stands up. You back away but Dieter’s broad body is in the way, his hands find your waist, he squeezes. The familiarity of his touch soothes you like a wounded animal but fear still coils around your heart and makes you breathless. 

“You’re our newest addition to our little group,” he chuckles, his breath curling around you like a snake. “I saw it in your eyes when we first met. The world has betrayed you, it betrayed most of us. Leaving us alone, hurt, wounded. You deserve more– WE deserve more– I trust you to behave,” 

The decision has been made for you. A knot forms in your throat, you attempt to swallow around it but you choke instead. The crowd still stares at you. Observing your reactions and waiting, you have no idea what they’re waiting for. Your eyes linger on Eliot, back then you assumed he was in some sort of weird religious cult. You hadn’t expected Dieter to be the ring leader. 

“I want to leave,” you say, voice giving away how afraid you are. “I don’t want any part of this.” 

“But you already are,” 

The crowd suddenly springs into life again, talking, laughing and drinking their champagne. You’re invisible. And so is Dieter. He leads you out of the room, for a brief moment your naivety tricks you into thinking that he’s leading you outside. Instead he leads you deeper into the chateau, pushing you into a darkened room. You can’t see him, however you do feel him moving around the room, the sound of his steps sending spikes of fear into your body. 

“I was hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this,” he clicks his tongue. “But you can’t leave. You told me you would surrender yourself to me, was that a lie?” 

“That was before I knew you were the head of a cult!” you can’t help the high pitch of your voice. “Let me out, please,” 

Static fills the tiny room, light of multiple screens buzzing alive. They’re everywhere, on your left, on your right, at your front, at your back. But they all show the same thing. 

You. 

You recognize the way your face contorts with pleasure, brows knitted together as you shout Dieter’s name. You’re begging for him. Telling him things you have no idea you said. 

“I would kill for you,” 

“I love you and love this cock,” 

“You’re my everything. I hate the others. Don’t leave me please,” 

It continues. Your own voice blaring in your ears. Dieter’s face never shows up in the clips, just you. Your heart nearly stops. You’re positive he has more footage, maybe a couple where he’s in them too. It’s daunting. The moans come from every inch of the room. Dieter finally moves. He stands only an inch away from you and cups your cheeks. He’s looking at you the same way a mother would gaze at her confused child. You feel caged. 

“See how good you feel,” he says, your frantic moans still ringing in the background. “You need me. I need you. Be a part of this, willingly. Don’t make me do anything I don’t want to do.” then he adds, his voice dipping an octave lower. “You’re actually the only person I give two shits about, you’re nice. I never wanted it to come to this, I thought you would understand. You felt the same pain as I did. You shared a part of yourself with me and I accepted you, why can’t you accept me?” 

The question guts you from the inside out. 

Is he right? 

He did accept you didn’t he? He comforted you, showed you love and affection while no one else did. He made you feel safe. Make you feel the center of the universe. He did film you without your knowledge, which is bad, but he had done it as a last resort. 

You part your lips but you’re cut off by your own modulated voice. 

“Sad. Empty–” 

Your eyes flicker to the seemingly endless amount of TV’s behind Dieter. You see that within the recording your chest is heaving, going up and down in a panicked manner. Licking your lips you swallow, you remember this moment crystal clear. It happened the night before. 

“Please don’t ever leave me,” 

Dieter’s voice follows. 

“What do you want, baby?” 

“Everything, I want you to take everything and give me everything.” 

“See,” says the Dieter who is standing an inch away from you. Your eyes move back to him, his face lit by the eerie reflection of the TV’s. “This is what you want. Don’t push your own desires down just because it’s not the ideal,” 

The recording stops, all of them all at once. Your image of feeling unbridled ecstasy frozen in time forever. You lift your leg to take a step back but Dieter’s arm is quick to sneak around your waist, leaving your foot midair. His hand slides down to the curve of your ass, he squeezes the flesh tenderly. 

You stand on two feet. Dieter hooks two thumbs around the straps of your dress, pulling the loose and allowing the fabric to be a pool at your feet. His dark gaze rakes across your illuminated body, you feel as if the screens are eyes and they watch you become bare for a man who promises you understanding, love. 

“You don’t want to be alone,” he purrs, lips pressing into your collar bone. “You said it yourself. I’ll never leave you, I’ll stay. But it’s only fair if you promise it too,” 

You’re trembling when he mouths your breast, he draws in a nipple between his lips and sucks. Without even thinking your head falls back, chest pushing forward. He grins into your skin, grinds into your aching core. You’re already wet for him, the middle of your thighs sticky. His fingers slowly trace between your folds, ghosting across your clit. Your body tingles. 

“If you don’t promise I’ll stop,” 

“Don’t stop,” you say without a second thought. “I promise. I’ll stay, I want to understand,” 

“Good girl,” 

He whispers the words nonchalantly, but your skin burns at his words. Dieter finally gives you what you want, what you need. His fingers are replaced with the fat head of his cock, dragging his length right below your folds, fucking your thighs. 

“Want me to fuck you right here right now, pretty girl?”  

The images start to move again. Past moans filling the room and making your core spike with heat. You close your eyes, nodding as you still feel his lips around your nipple. He lays you on the floor, there’s screens on the ceiling as well. You hadn’t noticed. 

When he pushes inside you, you feel whole again. His strong arms are wrapped around your waist, thrusting into you like a wild beast. Dieter pins your hips down when you try to raise them, his teeth deep in your skin. You hiss out a breath. Your mind spins, you feel and see pleasure. It’s mind numbing. The sound of your slick combines with the moans coming from the countless TV’s. He slams into you without a second thought, his cock coated in white. 

He kisses you hungrily. Tongue all consuming inside your mouth. You inhale his scent, he smells like pine. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he groans into your mouth. “Want me inside of you baby? Want me to fill you up so you’ll be carrying my babies? Hmm, would you like that?” 

You remember the time you first met him, the time you thought about replacing the air in your lungs with the presence of him. 

“Yes,” you moan, throat sore. “Please Dieter– Want you inside, want you everywhere,” 

“Touch yourself,” 

When you do he chuckles, you’re too dazed to put any kind of meaning behind it. You draw quick, rough circles around the bundle of nerves, cunt squeezing around him. Dieter props himself up with his elbows, grinding his cock into you, he looks down at you fondly. 

“See,” you can barely see his expression with the way he pushes in deeper, jaw-slacked, you try to focus. “Don’t you feel better now that you surrendered yourself to me,” 

You did. You fucking did and you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re fucked up or he’s just that good at fooling people. 

Or maybe he’s just right. 

Dieter fucks you full of his seed, you can feel him pumping into you. The pressure makes you unravel around him, you see black dots across your vision, the TV’s showing nothing but blurry images. When he pulls out a string of slick follows the tip of his cock, cum slowly dripping out of you. He watches, and you see the way he licks his lips. 

Again he makes you feel like the most wanted person in the universe. 

The TV’s finally shut down with a jarring click and the room lights up. The white light scolds your eyes but they’re quick to adjust, you blink as you continue to lay on the floor. 

“Our room has a beautiful view,” he says, hooking his arms under your knees and carrying you out of the room. “We can initiate you tomorrow. You can learn more about the way,” 

Your eyelids flutter closed, sleep quickly seeping its way into your muscles. 

“Okay,” you mutter, head falling into his chest. 

Before you black out completely you feel a pair of soft lips against your forehead. 

kinktober tags: @tusk89 , @amneris21 , @witchisenpai , @pedrito-friskito , @tom-whore-dleston , @lola766 , @batdarkladyvampir , @dindjarinswhore , @dnxgma , @eyelessfaces , @queenofthefaceless , @softtdaisy , @saintlike78 , @timpletance , @xdaddysprincessxx , @stardust-galaxies , @spacecowboyhotch, @queenofthecloudss , @prettyouttherethoughts , @reaperofmen , @partr1dge , @bbyanarchist , @alwaysdjarin , @thevoiceinyourheadx , @absurdthirst , @levi-llama

[gothamlonelyhearts]

"I'm not afraid of you." Pls pls pls with sprinkles

yesss ha ha ha... YES ! (this is a little au ish cuz is like during canon.)

(cw for weed) (i do not know why he needed someone elses home i guess just like imagine he was out trying to blow shit up and it started storming. yeah lets go with that actually) (written super informally and kind of comedically?)

the stink of pot smoke in this apartment is overwhelming. it's disorganized, but clean, a little ugly and cluttered in a charming way. the riddler's glasses fog up a bit as he lets out another heavy exhale through his mouth. it's a nice place to hide out in.

at least, he thought it'd be.

by the time he'd crawled in through your window - not without almost slipping and falling on his ass several times - it became obvious that someone was recently in there, or maybe even still was. for whatever reason, no one came out when he broke in, so maybe he was just being paranoid. maybe whoever lived here just smoked so much that the stink just hung in the air constantly.

so, the riddler decided it was fine to let his guard down and he slid down the wall, huffing and gasping as he recovered. it's hot as hell under all those layers. his scalp is starting to itch from the humid confinement of the cling wrap on his head and his lungs are kind of sore. it's rough out there. the military parka he wears is heavier when it's wet, too.

just when he's catching his breath and is considering going to find a different room to hide out in for a bit, he hears footsteps. his breath catches in his throat and he tries to scramble backwards, but it's a bit late for that. the stink of smoke grows a bit stronger and - with a bit of surprise - he realizes that you're the type to smoke indoors. kind of gross, but he understands why - it's storming terribly outside.

your eyes catch on him and dilate. he's been caught. before the riddler can scramble out of your window again (he'd worry about the broken bones later), you start laughing. something's definitely wrong with this guy, he thinks.

he hazards a glance at you and gets a bit of a better look at you. your head's cocked to the side, messy bangs in your eyes and a glass pipe clutched in one hand, chipped black nails glossy in the dim light.

"who are you?"

"wh... who are you?" he snaps back. it's a weak reply and he knows it as soon as it comes out of his mouth.

you snort and scrunch your nose up in a way that makes him feel kinda weird. "dude, you're the one in my house right now." your eyes narrow a bit and something seems to click in your head. "ooh, hey, wait, you're that guy off the news!"

before he can even think up a way to respond, you change the subject. "you really didn't have to fuck up my window like that."

"wh.." the riddler stammers a little. "is something wrong with you?"

"oh, tons. tons. something's wrong with you too, though. maybe we'll get along."

"you're - what?" he's absolutely dumbstruck. here you are, with a notorious killer in your home, and you're cracking wise at him. there's another alternative, though, one that makes his chest kind of tingle - maybe you're one of his supporters? "you're not - you're not afraid of me."

"naw. what do i have to be afraid of?" before the riddler can prattle off what happened to the last guy whose home he broke into, you cut him off. "like, i know you killed the mayor or whatever, but what do i have to worry about? i'm not your target demographic. i've got like, $6 to my name right now. and i'm just some guy."

"but - i don't understand." there's a lot he doesn't understand. you're supposed to be afraid. anyone would be afraid. even if they were high.

"hey, look, i don't care if you stay here or whatever, but like... can you lose the coat and the mask and maybe the boots? i don't really want you tracking mud and rain around here." you don't give him a chance to reply before walking off.

the riddler contemplates it. maybe you're just crazy. still, he finds himself complying. he drops his coat on your couch and, with some effort, manages to get his combat boots off.

"c'mere." you shout from the other room. he nervously follows your voice - why is he doing this again? - and ends up nearly tripping over something warm and hairy.

"jesus christ," he wheezes out, his heart pounding in his chest. he looks down and... it's a cat.

"watch out for the cats," you yell, a minute too late. the cat, seemingly unperturbed by the big guy almost falling on him, just purrs and purrs and purrs against the riddler's ankles.

he walks in hesitantly. it feels weird to be in another guy's bedroom, especially a stranger. especially someone whose home you just broke into.

stlll, you look at him with a smile and even though the situation is impossibly strange and too good to be true, he gets a writhing tingle in his stomach. it doesn't take much for him to feel like a person but it's rare nonetheless.

"thought i told you to take that mask off."

"how do i know you won't tell the cops who i am?"

"wouldn't i have called them already?"

the riddler pauses. "fine." he reaches up to pull off the weather mask. hands trembliing, he pulls it off, clumsily ripping the cling wrap off with it.

you look up at him and your thoughts go blank for a second. for a guy who spends his free time leaving explosives in people's cars, he's really fucking cute. he's got the expression of a pound puppy doll, his hair messed up and sticky from his stupid killer gear, a soft jaw that you can't help but imagine kissing down. maybe you smoked too much. you can't be wanting to kiss this guy. no way. it was the weed.

"c'mere. sit down."

a little disappointed by your lack of response, the riddler sits down beside you. "you're not afraid of me," he repeats.

"naw. i'm not afraid of you." you glance at him. you take another hit off your pipe so you have something to blame for what you're about to do. "you're actually pretty cute. y'know. for a dude who beats people to death."

the ridiculousness of the situation and the sudden unexpected butterflies your compliment give him are too much and he brings a hand up to cover his mouth, trying and failing to stifle a giggle.

"you're crazy. you have to be." he says, half to you and half to himself, because god knows he's insane for letting his guard down so fast. still, he's in his thirties and never felt the touch of another, or heard a nice word about himself. being called 'cute,' even by a stoned stranger, was enough to make him giddy.

"so are you. maybe we'll get along."