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luvangelbreak · 1 month

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Deprived | Twenty

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing, smoking, suggestive? word count: 3.3k a/n: this series has been longer than I anticipated but I'm living for the slow burn so it's gonna be a while till we're done folks.

pov: layla

I spent the next week couped in my room, refusing to leave as I quickly smoked the bag of weed Wes had given me. Allie had messaged me in concern multiple times and I finally built up the courage to reply to her a day after her last message.

Allie <3 Monday hey girl are you okay? matt has been off all day 1:30pm Tuesday if u wanna talk im here <3 5:37pm Wednesday im getting concerned pls message me if u need anything 3:47pm

You sorry just havent been feeling good im okay just need time alone 10:21pm

Allie <3 im sorry :(10:23pm

You its okay i'll be at school tmrw 10:27pm

Allie <3 okay! see ya then <3 10:28pm

I locked my phone and threw it lazily on the bed beside me, rolling over to face the wall where my window was cracked open. I was glad my dad was out tonight, having to deal with him for over a week straight was draining and I felt like it didn't benefit my self-loathing in any way. I sighed as my mind always travelled back to the look on Matt's face, the pure hurt in his eyes that I knew I caused.

Part of me was glad he hadn't messaged or tried to talk to me. It meant that I could push him away if I wanted to. I did just that without even consciously meaning to. I got scared and made it his fault in my brain but as I continued rotting in my bed, I realised I hurt him more than I ever meant to. It wasn't his fault that I was afraid of someone being close, it wasn't his fault that I let something so small set me off. I needed to make him realise it wasn't his fault and I was just not used to the affection and accommodation he offered me daily.

I barely slept over the past week and this night was no different. My alarm went off in the early hours of the morning and I knew I had slept a total of 4 hours from the way my brain had constantly been reeling. I dragged myself out of bed and trudged into the bathroom. I took an extra long shower to attempt to rid the disgust I felt towards myself.

After scrubbing my entire body head to toe, I jumped out of the shower and walked to my room. My entire body felt heavy and I felt tears prick my eyes when I looked over to the pink sweater that was still laying over my bag. I picked it up, realising it was the only clean sweater I had since I hadn't been bothered with laundry. I quickly slid it over my head before sliding on my black sweatpants and combat boots. I slid my leather jacket over the top, not bothering with any makeup as I lazily tied my now damp hair into a low ponytail. I grabbed my bag, quickly sprayed on some perfume and grabbed my phone off of my bedside table.

I quickly exited my house without food or water in my stomach and as I began walking down the road, I decided to light one of the last few cigarettes I had pre-rolled. I grabbed my headphones from my bag, slid one into my ear and plugged them into my phone. I clicked shuffle on one of my playlists and I let my feet drag on the asphalt as I slowly made my way down the streets of Massachusetts.

After an hour, I finally arrived in the parking lot of the school and I scanned the cars, my eyes landing where I saw the familiar silver minivan. I paused, letting out a heavy breath as I collected myself and began walking to the group of people in front of the car.

Nate was the first to notice me and he just looked at me with no expression before he turned back to the group. As I got closer I noticed the fact that Mia was standing beside Matt with her head leaned on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her back lazily and I felt a pang of pure jealousy run through me. I tried to shake it off as I got closer, knowing I had no right to be mad about it right now since I was the one who caused the riff between the brown-haired boy and myself.

"Speak of the devil," I heard Nick say when his eyes caught mine and I was a few feet away, standing uncomfortably as I looked between all of them. All of their heads turned to look at me, Allie being the only one who didn't seem like they were looking right through me.

"Matt, can I talk to you?" I asked quietly as I didn't dare to meet his eyes yet and there was an uncomfortable silence that fell over us, "Please."

"About what?" he asked, his tone short and I looked up to see his face completely expressionless but his eyes held such hurt and aggravation that it felt like it cut right through me.

"Last week," I mumbled, ignoring the pain in my chest of seeing Mia looking at me with a slight smirk. I focused in on the boy I had hurt, his blue eyes piercing in the sunlight.

"Now?" he questioned, not taking his eyes off of me and I just looked at him, the judgement of his friends radiating off of them. He sighed heavily before swinging his arm out from around Mia and I felt a weight lifted off of my shoulders but there was still a pressure on my chest, "I'll be back."

I looked at the ground as he pushed away from the hood of the minivan and he walked past me. I followed behind him, not daring to look back at his friends as we walked to the back of the parking lot before he stopped to face me.

He didn't say anything for a moment as I looked up at him and he scanned me head to toe before murmuring, "That's my sweater."

"Yeah. I left it on my bag all week but I didn't have any clean hoodies for today," I explained and he hummed as I picked at the skin around my fingers, my nails too short to bite now that I had been picking at them all week. I nervously chewed on my lip before I said, "I'm sorry."

"It took you a week to say that?" he asked, his voice quiet but his words laced with pain.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I know I reacted to what you said horribly but I just-" I cut myself off as I took a breath and looked down at the gravel below us, "I haven't had anyone take care of me the way you do. It scares me. I'm sorry."

I squeezed my eyes closed, chewing on my bottom lip far more aggressively than I intended but my heart raced as I waited for his response. I felt his hand fall under my chin and he lifted my face to look up at him, noticing now that he was slightly closer to me. He used his thumb to gently pull my lip away from my teeth as I fidgeted with the hem of the pink sweater.

"Why didn't you just talk to me?" he asked, his tone softening as he looked down at me and I shrugged dumbly.

"I am bad at talking about that sorta stuff," I answered quietly, my throat closing from the sadness that invaded my body as I looked up at him. I had no right to be upset right now, I was the one who fucked up and made this so difficult, but I felt guilt invade my entire body when I realised I didn't want to push him away. It was habit and I was always bad at breaking them.

"Don't do that again," he demanded softly and I pursed my lips as I pushed my sadness down the best I could as tears sprung to my eyes, "Or I swear to god I won't talk to you again and I don't want to stop talking to you. Ever."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you away. I just don't know how to deal with everything I'm feeling and I know it's shitty but I promise I'm trying. I have no right to be sad right now because this is my fault but I feel so horrible for making you upset. You deserve so much more than that and if I can't give that to you I understand if you don't want me to be around anymore," I rambled out all of my feelings and conflicting voices in my head but I was cut off by his lips on mine.

I paused for a moment to register what was happening before my body melted into his, his arms wrapping around my lower back as I snaked my arms around his neck. I pulled him into me, missing the way his body felt against my own more than I anticipated. It felt like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in my room for the past week with smoke-filled lungs. He gripped my hips, pulling me impossibly closer to him as I tangled my hands in his hair before he pulled away to breathe for a moment.

"You're an idiot," he mumbled before he leaned back in to kiss me gently again.

"I know," I mumbled against his lips and he ran his tongue against my rough lips, the sting of his saliva hitting the open splits on my lips from chewing them. I hissed and pulled away as he looked down at me.

"You need to stop biting your lip," he muttered as his eyes travelled all around my face, "And stop picking your nails. You're not gonna have any left soon."

"I've been stressed the past week. I can't help it," I whispered as I looked up at him in awe. I had forgotten the pure oxytocin that ran through my system when I was with him and I refused to let it go again.

"Pretty girl," he gave me a sympathetic look and I shook my head as I pulled away from his face slightly, my arms still slung over his shoulders.

"Don't feel bad. This was my doing and I will make it up to you," I answered sternly and his face broke into a small smile. I sighed, the weight being lifted off of my chest now and my body tingled with joy.

"All I'm asking is that you talk to me next time," he whispered, leaning down to place a peck on my lips and I let it linger before I pulled back and nodded.

"I will try," I scratched the nape of his neck lightly and he bit his bottom lip as my face dropped, "Don't look at me like that before we have to go inside. I'll drive us back to your house right now."

"I don't see you for a week and you're ready to jump my bones already," he chuckled and I raised my eyebrows.

"How else can I make it up to you, ya know?" I joked as let my mouth form into a smirk and he shook his head as he pursed his lips, "Does this mean I can come to your game this week?"

"Of course baby," he smiled down at me and I felt the butterflies erupt in my stomach again, promising not only him but myself to never let myself ruin this again.

"By the way," I let my right hand trail from his neck to his chest, playing with the necklace that sat comfortably on his collarbones, "Allie's brother was just dropping me home. He tried to flirt with me but I shut it down. I wasn't lying about that."

"I know. I overreacted. I'm sorry about that," he said softly and I shook my head, twiddling the pendant between my fingers as I looked up at him.

"I know how it looked. I would've been just as upset. You don't need to apologise for it," I mumbled, trying hard to convey my feelings as best I could to which he didn't respond verbally. He instead placed another kiss against my lips and smiled against me as he squeezed my hips.

"Matt!" I heard Chris's voice call from only a few feet away and we both broke apart to look over at him, "You guys done? We gotta go to class."

"I forgot about that," I joked and Chris just gave me a deadpanned look as Matt chuckled.

"We'll be there in a sec," he called to his brother who just rolled his eyes and spun around to walk back to his friends, "They're more pissed at you than I was."

"I can tell," I mumbled as I watched their eyes pour directly into me, "Allie messaged me though."

"She was the only one defending you," he told me honestly and I hummed as I looked back up to him, "I'll talk to them."

"Don't sugarcoat it. You can tell them I'm a dumbass who doesn't know how to deal with her emotions," I stated and he shook his head with a smile, placing a kiss on the top of my head before swinging his arm over my shoulders.

"Come on," he said nodding towards the group and I hesitantly began walking with him by my side. Their eyes stayed glued to us as we approached and Mia gave me nothing but a scowl with her arms crossed, "Chill out. We talked about it."

"That didn't seem like talking," Mia spat and I remained silent, letting Matt handle the situation as I looked at Allie who gave me a sympathetic smile.

"Don't Mia," Matt deadpanned and she only scoffed with a roll of her eyes, "We talked about it and I don't wanna hear it."

"Only took you a week," Nate raised his eyebrows as he spoke and he looked at me. I pursed my lips while glancing between them.

"At least it happened," Matt retorted before the bell rang and he sighed, "We'll talk about it later. Let's go."

He began walking with his arm around my shoulder still and I followed suit, Chris moving to stand on the other side of Matt as everyone else followed behind. We made our way to our classes and once we sat down, a weight fell back on my chest.

Not only did I have to make it up to Matt, I had to win back his brothers and his friends.

+++

Pretty boy where did u go?? 12:23pm

You 🚬 be there in a minute 12:24pm

I locked my phone, sliding it into my pocket as I finished off my cigarette, throwing it onto the ground before I wedged it into the ground with my boot. I made my way back inside and straight to the cafeteria where I saw the group of friends sitting together.

"Hey," Allie beamed as she scooted closer to Mia to make space between her and Matt for me to sit. I smiled at her as I swung my legs over the bench and sat down. Matt placed his arm around my lower back as he continued his conversation with Nick.

"I don't want to wear a tie. That's why I got the red shirt," Matt groaned and Nick gave him a deadpanned look.

"It's prom. You're supposed to look fancy with a tie," Nick stated and Matt ran a hand across his face.

"We're all wearing a tie. Don't be a bitch," Nate pointed out and I tuned them out as Allie tapped my shoulder to gain my attention.

"You okay?" she asked quietly and I nodded with a hum.

"Yeah. Thank you for checking on me," I answered in a hushed tone and she shrugged with her sunshine smile that warmed my heart to know she wasn't annoyed with me.

"Of course. That's what friends are for," she said casually before she turned back to listen to the group conversation. I let her words hang over my head like a cloud.

That's what friends are for.

I don't remember the last time I had a genuine friend and her simple words struck me right in my heart. She had always been kind to me and from the moment we talked, she had been such a light in my life. I realised I not only wanted to share my emotions and feelings with Matt but also with Allie to show her that I appreciated her.

I wanted to be better for both of them.

"How long do we have to stay there?" Chris whined as he threw his head onto the table dramatically and Allie rolled her eyes.

"You're acting like you're being held hostage. If you don't wanna go it's fine," Allie responded, her tone quietening at the end and I could sense the slight sadness at Chris's distaste for prom.

"Al, I told you I'm going and I'll stick to that. I just don't wanna be there for five hours," he lifted his head up to look at her and she shrugged, eyes glancing at the table.

"We can leave early and go back to my house," she offered and Chris's mouth broke into a smile as he nodded.

"Works for me," he said triumphantly before sitting up again, resting his elbows on the table in front of him.

"How are we getting there?" Mia asked, looking around at the group and I just sat there in silence, deciding to go along with whatever plan I knew Allie had already set up.

"Meet up at my house at five thirty so we can take photos and make sure we have everything and then we will leave at like six-thirty to get to the hotel," Allie explained the plan and everyone seemed to hum along in agreement. I felt Matt's arm snake further around my back as he scooted closer to me.

"How are we getting there?" Nick asked and Allie smiled as she adjusted her ponytail.

"I got us a limo," she announced happily and Mia showed her first sign of happiness of the day as she squealed excitedly, "You guys won't drink right?"

Matt and his brothers shook their heads with a firm no and Allie turned to look at me and I shrugged, "Depends on what it is."

"Bottle of champagne in the limo?" Mia asked Allie and Allie nodded causing Mia's smile to widen.

"You're dad won't arrest us if we drink?" Nate asked, the half-hearted joke not landing well with Mia as she rolled her eyes.

"Not if he doesn't know," she pointed out with a slight smirk and Nate raised his eyebrows before nodding in agreement.

"Did you find a dress?" Nate asked, turning his attention to me as he attempted to make conversation. I assumed that in the time I'd been in my other classes and was outside Matt had talked to Nate, Chris and Nick since they weren't glaring at me anymore but they still felt slightly standoffish.

"No. I'm just gonna make my own," I explained and he nodded, his smile in a downturned smile.

"Mad impressive that you can do that," he complimented me and I gave him a half-hearted smile as Matt traced circles on my hip with his thumb.

"Thanks. I just hope I can finish it in time," I explained and I could sense Mia's disgust towards me radiating off of her but I was learning to tune her out like I had always done before Matt came into my life.

Suddenly the bell rang for our next classes and everyone began getting up. I stood up from the table before Matt spun me around and kissed my lips gently. I froze for a moment, shocked at the fact he did that in the middle of the cafeteria but I quickly reciprocated the action before he pulled away.

"See you after school pretty girl," he smirked at me before he walked away and I stood still for a moment as I watched him walk away with Nick, Chris, Nate and Mia.

"You guys are so fucking cute it makes me want to throw up," Allie rolled her eyes playfully beside me and I looked around to see people staring at me once again. I pursed my lips, my cheeks tinging red as I hid a smile and shook my head before I began walking out of the cafeteria.

tags:

@dsturniolo @chrisstankyleg @lov3bug @pinklittleflower @thatcrazybitch-69 @trinity2058 @alorsxsturn @chrizznmetswife @ilovechrissturniolo1 @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @sturnfix @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @sturniolowhore @jebbie-project-blog @jaxyy219

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55sturn · 2 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SNAP OUT OF IT: CHAPTER 0.02

↳ series masterlist! ↳ main masterlist!

↳ summary: in which a small argument snowballs into something much larger. tensions grow high only a few hours after re-meeting and some repressed memories are revealed much earlier than anticipated.

↳ pairings: college!matt sturniolo x fem!reader

↳ warnings: swearing, smoking [weed + cigarettes], cocky!matt, matt not realizing who the reader is, flashbacks.

↳ important things to note: starts out with reader’s pov, then will switch to matt’s pov, followed by switching to third person pov, and then back to reader’s pov.

READER’S POV

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” he hums, a smug grin on his face as i feel his eyes trail up and down my body as his tongue clicks. i scoff, pushing the door open, and making a beeline for the door with a sticky note of my name on it.

“wait how the fuck do you know my name?” i hear him call out from his room which was across the short hallway from mine, causing a sharp pang rush through my chest.

he really doesn’t remember me?

how the fuck can he forget the girl he said was his favourite in middle school? i know i look different from how i did at the end of high school but i didn’t think i looked that different.

i dismiss the thoughts and questions with a scoff, walking back to my doorway as i stare at him, watching as he shifts uncomfortably under my gaze.

“maybe my name will ring a bell.” i spit, ripping the sticky note off my door, shoving it against his chest before leaving the dorm, not bothering to watch his reaction.

as i swiftly begin my way back to jocelyn, i felt my entire body begin to shake with anger. no matter where i was in life, no matter what i was doing, matt found a way to taint those moments and memories, i had thought moving to cambridge would be a break from his ghost constantly haunting every corner of my mind. i thought that once i got out of boston, he would be nothing but a distant and blurry figure in the back of my mind.

but i guess fate had another plan.

jocelyn sits on the hood of her car, talking with someone, more than likely flirting her way into making him do all our heavy lifting, making me snort as i unlocked my car.

“couldn’t last twenty minutes without seeking your next victim?” i tease, watching as she throws her head back laughing, a quick shrug following as she hops off her hood.

“please i will not be hooking up with chris, i was just shocked to see him here.” she hums, causing me to freeze for a moment before turning to face him.

“chris.” i nod, quickly busting myself with a couple bags and a box, trying to steady my hands.

“long time no see y/n, nick and i miss you, ya know.” chris quips, making my shoulders fall as i sigh.

“well if you plan on visiting your brother, you’ll see me a lot more.” i mumble, watching back toward the doors as chris and jocelyn trail behind me, each of them carrying a box of mine.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means that the universe hates me and gave me the worst fucking dorm mate in existence!” i chuckle, however i found very little humour in the situation at hand.

“no fucking way.” jocelyn cackles, knowing exactly what i meant as we made our way down the hallways, stopping in front of my dorm.

“welcome to hell! please enjoy the visit!” i huff, my voice laced with dry sarcasm as we enter the dorm, matt leaning against the counter, a half finished cigarette in his hand as jocelyn fails to hide her snort.

“i thought you were joking but you’re actually living with him?”

“unfortunately.” i scoff, walking off to my room, placing bags and box on the bed, before returning to the kitchen.

“jocelyn.” matt nods, a grim look as his face as she stares him down, her arms crossed as her eyes dart around his face.

“matt. you still look like shit.” she quips back, her expression matching his.

“and i heard you’re still a slut, guess some things don’t change.” he laughs, causing her to bite back a laugh.

that was one thing about jocelyn, she would dish it out and take it just as well, she was one to let any and everything roll off her back because she didn’t care what people thought of her. it was the one thing i envied about her, but being so close with her has definitely helped me learn to take things with a grain of salt.

“hey y/n, about earlier, i’m sorry. you just look a lot different from the last time i saw you, it took me a second to recognize you.” matt murmurs, his eyes holding an indescribable expression, i tilt my head and watch him with a blank expression before speaking,

“you act like i give a flying fuck, matt. now make yourself useful and butt that out, we don’t need to get in shit the first night.”

after a while, jocelyn, chris, and i had finally moved everything from our vehicles to the dorm, and jocelyn made herself at home on the couch while i began unpacking.

“hey joce, classes don’t start for a couple more days, do you mind staying and coming shopping for dishes and other important shit tomorrow?” i hum, placing my skincare and makeup bags in the bathroom.

“you know i’m down.”

“try not to catch an infection the first night you’re here.” matt speaks from the kitchen, causing her to roll her eyes.

“hate to break it to you matt but the only infection i’d catch is from you and there’s no fucking way i’m touching you with a ten foot pole.”

“hey man, i’m clean.”

“not what i heard from the chicks you’ve fucked back home.”

“you know, you and chris would be perfect for each other.” matt snorts, rolling a joint on the counter as jocelyn chokes on the water she was drinking.

“why do you say that?”

“you’re both whores who love to sleep around and are scared of mature relationships.”

“like you know anything about maturity, mister “you’re my favourite girl and always will be.” only to go back on your word the day freshman year ended just because some bitch broke your heart.” jocelyn snaps, causing me to drop the the bottle of perfume i held, the sound of it clattering against the ceramic sink snapping jocelyn’s attention back to me.

“jocelyn what the fuck?” i exclaim, watching as her brows creased, an look of remorse covering her features.

MATT’S POV

as soon as the phrase “you’re my favourite girl and always will be.” left jocelyn’s mouth, i felt my ears turn hot and my mouth run dry as clattering echoes from the bathroom.

“jocelyn what the fuck?” y/n exclaims, her voice cracking with hurt as the memory of my eighth grade promise comes rushing back to the both of us.

“you know jocelyn, i’ve never seriously held the fact that you sleep with anyone who looks your way against you, but that comment? that was fucking low, even for you.” i bite, grabbing my keys and wallet from the table, quickly leaving the dorm, making quick strides toward my car.

i couldn’t be around either them as i kept picturing the day i promised y/n she would always be my favourite girl and the day i told her i could never date a fucking loser like her. the images of her eyes full of love followed by images of her eyes welling with tears filled my mind, i needed to get away from those memories, so i grabbed the joint i stuck behind my ear during the fight i had with jocelyn and lit it as i drove around the city.

THIRD PERSON POV [SUMMER BEFORE EIGHTH GRADE]

it was the summer before eighth grade, y/n, jocelyn, and the triplets were all gathered around the triplets’ cape house yard. everyone’s parents had agreed to one big final sleepover before school started in three days. they had all decided they wanted to camp-out in the cape house backyard all in their own shared tents.

matt and chris were sharing, nick and nate were sharing, and y/n and jocelyn were sharing, and that was decided by the parents.

as everyone sat around the fire matt looked at y/n, he smiled, excited to start his last year of middle school with her. they had known of each other since kindergarten but they didn’t became friends until that summer when nick and jocelyn started hanging out more.

“hey y/n/n?”

“yeah matt?”

“you’re my favourite girl and always will be. i don’t really like a lot nick’s friends that girls but you’re really cool.”

“thank you matt, promise i’ll always be your favourite?”

“pinky promise.” he smiled, sticking out his pinky, watching as the girl hooked hers around it, shaking their hands back and forth slightly.

THIRD PERSON POV [FIRST DAY OF FRESHMAN YEAR; AFTER SCHOOL]

y/n bounced on the balls of her feet as she waited outside the triplets door, wanting to hang out with matt and hear about his day, and hopefully confess her crush on him. she hadn’t really heard much from him that much this summer and she missed her friend.

“oh y/n, what are you doing here?”

“just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out.”

“uh sure, come in i guess.” matt sighs, opening the door, letting y/n step through.

a couple hours pass and matt seemed to be in a better mood than he was when she first got there.

“hey matt can i tell you something?” y/n whispers, fidgeting with the bracelet she wore as matt sat up, his back against his headboard as he nods, gesturing for her to continue.

“i like you, like a crush, and people have told me that you might like me too.”

“who said that?”

“jocelyn and nick.”

“well they’re wrong. i could never like a dorky fucking loser like you.” matt spits, rolling his eyes as her jaw drops. she felt tears start to well along her waterline as she stands up, quickly exiting the room, letting matt’s door slam softly, both literally, and metaphorically on their friendship.

READER’S POV [CURRENTLY]

i watch matt leave in a hurry, his brows furrowing in anger as jocelyn stands in the living room in shock, not realizing how far she overstepped.

“i’m sorry y/n, he just infuriates me, especially with the way he acts as if he never knew you at all and that he never did anything wrong, and on top of that, he acts like pretentious jackass that’s better than everyone.” jocelyn pleads, her frustration over everything that’s happened with matt pouring into every word.

“it’s alright, joce.” i sigh, already dreading the moment he comes back. if there was one thing that was i count on when it came to matt, it was the fact that he would hold a grudge, he would hold onto fights with an iron fist grip. if he was mad at you, he would make sure you knew for days on end until he was over it.

and i knew that the moment he came back, he’d direct his anger at me.

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lockedtombbrainworms · 4 months

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TLT characters and smoking: Judith: got peer-pressured into it as a teenager because someone told her Coronabeth and/or Marta would think it was cool. Nearly passed out coughing and has never been willingly within six feet of a cigarette since Marta: Only smokes after she fucks. Which is a lot, by the way. Coronabeth: No particular interest in smoking, but would 1000% take it up if she thought it would make her more interesting to someone. May in fact do that now that Ianthe smokes. Ianthe: Canonically does smoke as of the end of NTN. Probably wasn't especially interested beforehand, especially given her dodgy necromancer lungs, but once she was a lyctor the psychosexual drama of the mithraeum was always gonna give her some sort of vice Naberius: no interest whatsoever, he's an athlete and he's too concerned about his looks and the potential for premature ageing. Not that it would matter, as Ianthe would just fix him, but he doesn't strike me as the type. Would definitely vape though, and let's be real, if any house has vapes, it's the third. Isaac: Teenage rebellion phase might include smoking, might even include weed. The Fifth would be horrified by this. Jeannemary: Probably more likely to smoke than Isaac as part of the aforementioned teenage rebellion phase, if I'm honest. Abigail: nope, she'd be too aware that it's bad for you to enjoy it. I can see her enjoying edibles though, it feels like they might help with certain kinds of spirit magic. Magnus: Cigars. Look at the guy. Palamedes: absolutely the fuck not, although he did at least pick up the muscle memory for it during The Unwanted Guest shenanigans. Cam: Equally absolutely the fuck not. Paul: Until I read TUG, I'd have said just as much of a no as with Cam and Pal, but now I know Palamedes went into that whole thing with Ianthe's smoking habit rubbed off on him, there's an outside chance they'll share one with Pyrrha Dulcinea: Would never be allowed to smoke, which I suspect would mean she'd very much want to given the "sick of roses and horny for revenge" thing. She should've been chuffing fat darts every minute we saw her in the river bubble. Maybe she was, just not around Harrow. Protesilaus: Doesn't strike me as the sort, although we don't see much of him. Silas: no, he's a weird sixteen-year-old temperance freak and also a frail necromancer Colum: Definitely smokes. Rolls his own. May not even bother with filters given how he knows the siphoning is fucking him up faster than the cigs ever could. Gideon Nav: Might try it to impress girls, but is probably too aware of the possibility of it messing up her fitness, which she also uses to try to impress girls. Harrow: Nah. Just being around cigarette smoke would overstimulate her.

#the locked tomb #tltposting #tlt headcanons

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vampynights · 9 months

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CLYDE (ELECTRICK CHILDREN) — hanging on the telephone

✰summary: clyde’s not the conventional type to bring home and your parents make that abundantly clear. still, he’s desperate to keep you in his life somehow. do you choose between the approval and love of the people who keep a roof over your head, or the boy who made you feel alive for the first time ever?

✰warnings: cursing, smoking and weed usage (i’ve never actually smoked so bear with me), mentions of drinking, lots of tension, pretty slowburn (this is kinda an understatement, it took around 6,000 words to get to the lovers part), angst with comfort, unhealthy relationships with parents, afab reader, reader uses she/her pronouns

✰a/n: this is not only the first fic (or oneshot) i’ve written in a while but also my first ever clyde fic so please excuse any mistakes!!! i’m open to any requests for clyde seeing as there isn’t enough fanfiction of him out there.

✰words: 14.3k (it's a long one so strap in.)

————————————

Meeting Clyde was an accident but to her, it was almost a blessing.

Y/N didn’t intend on letting it go as far as it did. He was just the weird stoner kid she met at a music venue. If you asked her, she’d tell you the story of how they met was as cliché as it could get. Girl bumps into boy with a drink, boy shrugs it off and promptly begins flirting with her, and they hit it off almost immediately. She’d never been to something like that before and it was obvious but Clyde was nice enough to make sure she didn’t feel too out of place (or bump into any more people.)

By the end of the night, the two were walking around the streets of Las Vegas, talking endlessly about everything and anything that popped into their minds. Both of them knew that by bringing up a random story or question, they were simply procrastinating saying goodbye to one another, yet neither of them bothered to point it out or put an end to it.

“Okay so- wait. You’ve never gone, like, fucking rogue on your parents for not even a day? What, do you just stay at home and shit?” Clyde is inebriated and exasperated, running a hand through his hair with one hand while the other raises to his mouth and grabs the cigarette in between his lips. He blows out the smoke and Y/N lets her gaze linger on the sight for a few seconds before looking at the street ahead, shaking her head.

“I mean…yeah? I’m not really the type to disobey my parents for no reason. I didn’t feel any need to.” She looks down and kicks a pebble in front of her. She can feel Clyde staring at her but she refuses to make eye contact, weirdly embarrassed by her admission.

“Yet here you are walking around with a random guy at night, real fucking smart. Were you even allowed to go to that venue?” He asks, laughing as he raises the cigarettes to his lips again.

“Nope,” she replies, emphasizing the ‘P’. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket and looks around. It’s surprisingly vacant, though she assumes it’s because they’ve unknowingly departed from the busier streets and are now walking around aimlessly.

“Well aren’t you just a little rebel-“ he begins to tease her though is cut off by a harsh shove, making him laugh and stumble to the side. She playfully glares at him and flips him off.

“Shut the fuck up?” She giggled. “I bet you’re probably a fucking nuisance to your parents.” Though it’s a rather mean statement, Clyde knows she’s only joking through the smile that spreads across her face. He smiles back and for a split second Y/N swears she feels her heart skip.

“Well actually,” he raises the cigarette to his lips again, “I don’t live with them anymore. Well, technically I don’t.”

Y/N feels a tinge of guilt for even bringing up the subject of his parents after hearing that, though Clyde is quick to notice the way her smile falters and he quickly adds to his sentence.

“Not that I really give a shit though, I like being on my own a lot better than staying over there. It’s suffocating,” he says through the cigarette in between his lips.

“How come?”

“I don’t know, they’re like…not supportive of who I am and shit?” Clyde shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. Y/N feels as though he’s excluding a large majority of the story though drops it. She instead chooses to focus on how they’re approaching her neighborhood. She sighs, disappointed at the prospect of having to leave Clyde. He glances over at her from the corner of his eye at the sound and then directs his attention to where hers is, staring at a street sign in front of them.

“Is uh- is this where you live?” He asks her, holding the cigarette between his fingers before flicking it and throwing it on the ground, stepping on it with his shoe to put it out. Y/N nods and then turns to face him. They’re both silent for a few seconds, staring at each other awkwardly as they try to formulate a proper goodbye.

“This was…fun,” she eventually speaks, her lips pursing together into a tight smile. Clyde nods and smiles as well, though he is a lot more relaxed.

“Can I get your number?” He blurts out. Her eyes widen only slightly before she quickly begins digging into her bag, pulling out a pink flip phone with small bedazzled jewels on it. She holds it out for Clyde to take and he laughs at the sight, grabbing it and inspecting it.

“Cute,” is all he says as he flips it open and begins putting his number into her phone. He pulls out his own and puts her number into his, Y/N staring in awkward silence.

He shuts both phones and hands hers back, beginning to walk backward and away from her. “I’ll call you!” He shouts out to her, waving goodbye. She waves back, standing in place and watching him leave. Looking back down at her phone, she can’t help but grin wildly and laugh to herself as she walks back home, a blush spread across her cheeks the whole time.

———

It takes Clyde two days to call her. In those two days she did nothing but think of him. The way he pat her shoulder after she profusely apologized for spilling her drink on him, the way he whispered into her ear whenever someone he knew walked past and he had a strong opinion on them he just needed to share, and the way he asked her to walk with him before the band they were watching even finished performing all snuck their way into her mind throughout the day.

What was in the forefront of her mind however was his smile. The smile he gave her as he offered to be her ‘guide’, the smile he gave her when she told him her name and the smile he gave her as they said goodbye. If there was anything she learned about him after the night they spent together, it was that he would very easily become her new favorite person.

She was in her bedroom when he called, flipping through a fashion magazine while lying on her bed. Laying on her stomach with her legs swinging in the air, she mindlessly stared at the model on the page in front of her, though her mind was anywhere but on the skirt she was showcasing. Coincidentally enough, she was thinking about Clyde when the loud ringing alarmed her out of her thoughts.

She jumped and got up, racing towards her phone on the dresser and picking it up to see the caller's I.D. Her heart raced as she read the name and she purposefully waited for the phone to ring for just a couple more seconds before picking it up to avoid looking eager.

“Hello?” She could hear Clyde’s voice clearly through the speaker and her heart raced. It had only been two days since they met yet it felt like an eternity since she had heard his voice.

“Hi,” she breathed out, subconsciously checking herself out in the mirror and fixing her hair as if Clyde could see her.

“What are you doing?” He asks and she can hear muffled music in the background as if he were listening to a live band in a different room.

“Uhm nothing really…just doing some light reading…” she glances over at the magazine on her bed and paces her room.

“Light reading? What the fuck is that?” He laughs on the other end and Y/N bites her lip to try and control the smile on her face. Sighing, she sits down on her bed and flips another page of the magazine absentmindedly.

“Doesn’t matter. What are you doing? Sounds like you’re at a venue or something again.” She runs a finger down the page.

“Close but not really. I’m uh watching some friends practice…they’re in a band and shit. They’re actually kinda good but y’know music is subjective and all that bullshit so maybe you won’t agree,” he mumbled into the phone, and she laughed in response. Laying down on her back, she stared up at her ceiling and tapped her fingers on her stomach.

“Right…I’m sure they’re good. Well if they’re anything like the bands we heard the other night, they were amazing.”

Clyde chuckles and clears his throat. “Yeah no they were great…they’re actually playing again at the same venue next week…if you wanna go check it out.”

“The same venue only a week later? Wouldn’t they wanna broaden where they play and stuff?” Y/N furrows her eyebrows and rolls over on her side.

“Well they’re small bands and a shit ton of people usually go over there so…either way, it’s better for us cause it’s closer. So are you in or nah?”

Y/N takes a moment to think. She was dying to see him again though the prospect of going against her parent's rule of sneaking out at night wasn’t one she was intending to break more than just once a month. Still, she found herself abandoning all logic and agreeing. “Yeah, sure. What day?” She tries to sound casual though a bit of excitement shines through her tone.

“Next Wednesday at 11 pm. Don’t worry, I won’t keep you out long like last time,” he laughs, “unless you want me to.”

Her heart skips at his words and she can practically hear his smirk over the phone. “We’ll see.” She’s trying her best to play it cool despite the tremor in her hands.

“Cool.”

And with that, they’re left in awkward silence for a few seconds. Y/N thinks of what to say and though she really, really doesn’t want to come off as desperate, she can’t help but ask the question that’s been nagging her ever since the day before.

“How come it took you two days to call?”

There’s a brief pause on Clyde’s end that makes her panic. Did she freak him out? Was she being overbearing? Was two days a reasonable amount of time to wait before calling someone and she was just clingy? His laughing cut off her train of thought.

“Missed me?” He asked teasingly. She felt her cheeks grow warm from embarrassment but he spoke before she could defend herself. “I’m gonna be honest I just got kinda busy. Trust me when I say I wanted to call you, though.”

Y/N smiles widely, not bothering to push it back. The confirmation that he had also been thinking about her, maybe not as much as she was thinking of him, but that she was on his mind at all overjoyed her. She twirled a strand of her hair around her finger and closed her eyes.

“I’ll believe you. For now.”

He snickered at her last statement and opened his mouth to reply before a voice other than his could be heard from the phone. She couldn’t tell whose voice it was, though the person seemed agitated with him. She stared at her nails as she waited for Clyde to speak to her.

“Listen, I gotta go but I’ll call you again soon, alright? And if not, I’ll see you on Wednesday. Kay?”

She was disappointed at the fact that their call had to be cut short though nodded to his words before remembering he couldn’t see her. “Uh- yeah! See you.”

They exchanged a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone. Y/N flipped hers shut and set it down on top of her chest, her hands resting on her stomach as she smiled up at her ceiling. She knew it’d be a long week before Wednesday came.

—------------

She didn’t understand what part of her behavior may have changed throughout the week, though to her parents, it was fairly obvious that she was a little too happy. The next Monday Y/N could sense something was off the moment she stepped foot into the dining room. The atmosphere was tense almost, and what made things worse was Y/N couldn’t pinpoint why. Did they somehow know about her secret rendezvous? Maybe she was too loud on the phone the night before? Or perhaps they knew she snuck out the other night. They wouldn’t have waited this long to confront her, however.

As she approached her seat at the dinner table, she cautiously stared up at her father through her eyelashes and pulled out her chair. Her father was too busy setting the table to notice.

“Y/N! Can you come help me set the plates?” Her mother called out to her from the kitchen, startling her. She let go of the chair and began to walk towards the kitchen, taking one last glance at her father before directing her attention to her mother. She paced around the kitchen grabbing plates from cabinets, forks and knives from the drawers on the counters, and began transferring the food from the pots and pans onto the plates. Y/N walked over slowly and grabbed a plate, taking hold of a large spoon and scooping out some of the rice in the container to pour it onto the plate. The air felt a little lighter in there, and they both did their tasks in mutual silence for a minute before her mother began speaking.

“You seem happy lately. Anything new?” It was an innocent question. Her mother was usually the type to inquire about her life so this wasn’t completely out of the ordinary. The guilt from sneaking out three nights ago plagued Y/N’s mind, however, and what once was a warm and comforting inquiry of how she was doing now became a terrifying interrogation. Y/N tried her best to remain calm and continued to fill the plate with food, setting it down and reaching over the counter to wash a spoon in her hands.

“Nothing new, just happy that it’s summer,” she replied cooly, mentally applauding herself for responding without a shake in her voice. Her mother hummed in response and left the kitchen with a plate in her hands, walking out to the dining room. Y/N turned the sink off and sighed under her breath, looking down and gripping the counter with her hands. She was definitely not made for the lifestyle of sneaking out against her parent's permission. She ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath, grabbing her plate and walking out to the dining room.

Her father was seated already, flipping through a newspaper while her mother set a plate down in front of him. Y/N fought back the urge to roll her eyes at his inability to make his own plate and placed her plate down on the table. She silently walked back into the kitchen and looked in the fridge for something to drink. Her family wasn’t the type to drink anything deemed ‘unhealthy’, meaning the only things available to drink were water and homemade juices. She’d rather drink her own piss than ingest an entire cup of her mother's kale juice, so she instead opted for a water bottle. She’d kill to drink some soda, however.

As she walked back to the table she found her mother and father already seated, staring at her expectantly. It was uncanny, almost, the way they both looked over in her direction at the same time and smiled. She froze for a split second and smiled back (though it came off as more of a grimace), her teeth in full display before she continued to walk back to her seat. She sat down and smoothed out her pants before looking down at her food and closing her eyes. Before every meal, they were expected to pray.

‘Oh heavenly father,” her father began, sighing deeply as he intertwined his hands in front of his plate, “we thank you for the opportunity to be blessed with the food in front of us and we are grateful for the roof over our heads and for each other. Thank you for my wonderful wife who prepared this delicious meal, and thank you for my truehearted daughter who continues to stay on the right path, the path that you have created for her.” His prayer continued, though Y/N tuned out.

The guilt was eating at her. Her father sat just inches away praising her for her obedience and loyalty to god, when just three nights before she was out on the streets with a boy who she knew very well both her parents and God wouldn’t approve of. Not that she really gave a damn about God anyway. He was always something her parents believed in and pressured her to believe in as well. Her doubt of his existence didn’t make her guilt any better, though. Even though she knew deep down she didn’t fully believe in him, she didn’t completely deny him either. And if he did exist as her parents insisted, was she just a horrible person and daughter for doubting that? She already felt like a horrible daughter for sneaking out the way she did. For years her parents publicly and privately praised her for being the “most well behaved child they’d ever seen.” They had confidence in her that she’d always do the right thing, and made it abundantly clear that if she were to ever, ever, disobey them she’d be betraying their trust completely. She was too caught up in her thoughts and failed to notice both of her parents staring at her worriedly.

“Y/N?” Her mother reached out and grabbed her arm, gently shaking her. Y/N snapped back into reality and blinked, staring down at her food and then looking at her parents. “Are you okay sweetheart?” Her mother asked. Y/N could only nod and grab her fork, stabbing into the meat on her plate and shoving it into her mouth.

—--------------

Wednesday night, Y/N found herself pacing her room in an attempt to relieve the anxiety that surrounded her like a dark cloud. She’d gotten past the first two stages of her plan: she kissed both her parents goodnight and waited for them to fall asleep before hiding out in her room like a hermit. She placed a bunch of pillows under her blanket strategically to look like a body (something she’d learned from the corny sitcoms she was allowed to watch. She found it ridiculous though did it anyways,) and began getting ready. She didn’t own a lot of clothing that would be deemed ‘appropriate’ for the occasion and ended up wearing a loose black dress that stopped just short of her knees. She put on a leather jacket that she stole from a friend who had a lot more freedom to wear whatever they wanted, and some dark brown eyeshadow to try and give herself a more ‘edgy’ look. She assumed that’s what Clyde would be into based on the appearances of the girls he hung around with.

It was a struggle to get out of her house without making any noise. She had to take off her shoes while she walked down the stairs and past her parents’ room to avoid any creaking in the floors, and it took her almost three minutes to unlock and open the door without making any noise. By the time she stepped out of her house, it was 10:55 pm and she had to be at the venue by 11, though her house was about a ten-minute walk from there. She was now not only incredibly nauseous from the fact that she was sneaking out in the first place but also that she had only 5 minutes to get there on time. Maybe he wouldn’t be there on time? He seemed like the type of guy who was never actually on time for stuff, so maybe, just maybe, she’d get there before him. Right?

Wrong.

By the time she did get to the venue, sweaty and out of breath, she could see him standing against a wall with his arms crossed, smoking a cigarette. She didn’t understand why he smoked so much but decided now was definitely not the right time to ask any questions like that. She nervously walked up to him, trying to get a good look at his face underneath the colorful lights above them to gauge his mood and decide whether or not it was smart to actually go say hi or if she should just walk away and never talk to him again. It was hard to actually pinpoint his mood however, seeing as he remained rather stoic as he stared out at the street in front of him. He must have sensed her presence before he glanced over from the corner of his eye, and his eyebrow twitched just slightly. He pulled the cigarette away from his mouth and threw it on the ground, stepping over it before cooly walking over to her. She stayed frozen in place.

“Took you long enough. Was starting to think you wouldn’t show,” he mumbled, shoving his hands in the pockets of his navy blue hoodie as he walked towards her. Y/N laughed quietly, looking down at her shoes to avoid his gaze.

“Sorry. Turns out sneaking out of your house with the intention of meeting up with someone is a lot harder than just sneaking out in general,” she was about to explain herself in further detail, feeling as if she needed to or else he’d get mad before he laughed and place an arm around her shoulder casually. Her eyebrows rose and she stiffened under his touch though didn’t make an effort to shove him off or anything. He was warm. She smiled softly as he began to lead her into the venue, rambling about how the bands already started but they weren’t missing out on much.

—--------------------

That was a month ago. Every day since then, they have been in contact somehow, whether it was exchanging phone calls or texts, or meeting up with each other. They started hanging out more during the day as well, with Y/N lying and saying she was visiting her friends from church. The guilt of lying to her parents and disobeying them grew every day, though her affection towards Clyde was growing at an even more rapid rate. The guilt was worth it if it meant she got to see him one more time. One day, they were in his…room? She still didn’t know what to call it, she just knew that’s where he stayed most of the time. They both sat on his bed with their hands in the air, in the middle of a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’. Y/N was obviously winning with only three fingers down, meanwhile, Clyde had eight of them.

“Okay sooo…” she began before smirking mischievously. Clyde sighed and rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face as well.

“Ah shit you’re about to kill me, aren’t you?” He asked, giggling as Y/N placed a finger over his lips and shushed him.

“Shhshhhshhh….never have I ever smoked.”

Clyde narrowed his eyebrows at her. “Gotta be more specific. Like weed or cigs or-”

“Just put the finger down, Clyde, we both know you’ve inhaled any smoke you can think of naming,” Y/N laughs and grabs Clyde’s hand, forcing a ninth finger down as Clyde scoffed.

‘I’m asking you, dumbass. What haven’t you smoked?” He asks, causing Y/N to go silent and stare. Clyde stares back. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Over the past month, the two had gotten close enough to have a basic understanding of each other and their families, and Clyde knew damn well that she wasn’t experienced with any of that. In response to her silence, he chuckles and gets up, walking towards a book bag in the corner of the room. Y/N watches him wordlessly, having a growing suspicion of what he is going to pull out. She’s proven right when he turns around with a large smirk on his face, a tiny ziplock baggie in his hand with weed in it. Y/N scoffs and rests her back on the wall, her knees going up to her chest.

“Wanna try? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just notice how you’ve been eyeing my shit whenever I smoke,” says as he approaches the bed, going to the bedside table next to it and digging through it. She couldn��t find the courage to correct him and tell him that the reasoning behind her staring when he smoked was because she thought he was attractive, not because she wanted to try it though. She stared as he went through the drawer, thinking through the pros and cons of what would happen if she smoked with him.

She did have a bit of a curiosity when it came to smoking and drinking, though her parents always told her it was a sin to do either. Though she was already sinning by being in this room with Clyde, she figured there’d be no harm in trying. He made a small ‘aha’ noise once he found whatever it was he was looking for and sat down in the bed in front of her, setting the items down. Aside from the baggie of weed, there were what Y/N understood to be cigar papers (from what Clyde had described it to look like in one of their previous conversations). Clyde picks it up and waves it around in front of her face.

“Let’s see if you’ve been paying attention to anything I’ve said in the past,” he mumbled, setting it down and taking the weed out of the baggie. “What’s that? Do you know?” He nods towards the cigar papers. Y/N hesitated to answer, afraid of being wrong and embarrassing herself, though when she looked at Clyde’s face she saw nothing but a warm fondness in his eyes that made her whole body warm up. She knew he wouldn’t actually judge her, maybe tease and poke fun at her, but no real judgment would ever be made.

“Uhm…cigar papers?” She answered, wincing a bit at the end of her response. Clyde’s smile eases her anxieties, however, and he laughs as he begins to pack the weed into the papers.

“Shit, you have been listening! Good job.”

The praise goes straight to her stomach as she feels it twist and turn. She was falling deep, a little too deep. She smiles in return and watches his movements. The two are silent for a few minutes, comfortable just enjoying each other's company. Once Clyde finishes, he holds up the blunt and rotates it in front of Y/N’s face.

“Okay, serious talk now. You seriously don’t gotta do it if you don’t want to. I know your family have your own fucking reservations and shit about this type of shit,” he warns her, his tone genuinely rather stern. Y/N smiles at his concern.

“Clyde, seriously, it’s fine. I wanna try. Plus, I’m not too concerned about anything bad happening, I mean, you smoke this stuff all the time, right?” Clyde nods and searches his pockets for his lighter. When he can’t find it, he begins lifting the blankets and pillows to find it around his bed.

“Yeah but this is your first time and well…shit get’s weird on your first time. I got you though. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Y/N’s almost glad he's preoccupied searching for his lighter so he can’t see her face after he says that. Little does she know he’s glad his lighter was hidden somewhere under his covers so he didn’t have to look her in the eyes and accidentally show off the blush that sneaked its way up to his cheeks. Once he finds it he chuckles to himself and glances over at Y/N, who is nervously staring at him.

“Alright, you ready?”

—---------------------------

It wasn’t a surprise that Y/N was high out of her mind from only a couple of hits. Clyde watched amused as she lay on his bed, staring up at his ceiling and rambling about god knows what. If he’s being honest, he stopped tuning in ten minutes into her rant and gave up trying to make sense of what she was saying. He was having just as much fun watching her fall into deep relaxation. He’d always found her to be on edge constantly, even when it was just the two of them in a secluded area, so to see her openly say what was on her mind with no hesitation was a sight to behold. And he was beholding it alright.

As he listened to her rant he sat up and reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a water bottle, holding it out so she could take a sip. She whined and pushed it away, making him laugh and grab her hand. “C’mon dude you gotta drink something. You’ve gone through like three bags of chips, isn’t your mouth like hella salty?” He asks her, motioning towards the chips.

She looks over and stares in amazement at all the empty chip bags in front of her. “Holy shit…” she mumbled, clearly not fully present. “I ate all of those?”

“Yeah, now open your mouth.” He grabs her chin and forces her mouth open despite her protests, placing the bottle up to her lips and tipping it slightly so it doesn’t all flow out. She drinks and he watches with an inexplicable expression on his face. He couldn’t believe that people like her still existed in the world, somehow so pure yet the slightest bit tainted. She was hopeful for a better world but not delusional, she was detached from the world he lived in yet kept an open mind and wanted to know more about it, and she was beautiful. Not just in a physical sense, but beautiful in the way she spoke. Gorgeous in the way she laughed and alluring in the way she presented herself.

He slowly moved the bottle away from her lips and watched as she wiped her mouth, his eyes flickering down to her lips and staying there for a few seconds. They always looked so inviting.

“Y’know, Clyde,” she began speaking and he looked away from her lips and up into her eyes. “I always thought you were really cool,” she huffed out, laying her head down on his lap. He tensed and looked down, his breathing growing shallow. There was a large pause in between her sentences. She closed her eyes and Clyde could only stare in silence. He hesitantly reached his hand down to her hair, hovering above it to see if she was okay with him touching her head. She didn’t make any indication for him to move, so he began to gently comb his fingers through her hair. The two sat like that for a while before Y/N continued her point from earlier.

“You are really cool…” she lifted herself off his lap and instead moved closer to him, their bodies inches away. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what she was trying to do.

She glanced down at his lips and Clyde subconsciously licked them. She moved even closer.

“I think I like you.”

That confession alone was enough to make him stop breathing for a couple of seconds. Sure, there had been a couple of signs out there that seemed to hint towards her having an attraction to him. That was all it was though. An attraction. He’d always been doubtful of the idea of her ever gaining any actual feelings for him, he was far too damaged to be hers. He’d only ever entertained the idea of them being together at night when he was up late at night and needed something to soothe him to sleep. So to hear her say something like that, he just couldn’t believe it. She was high. It had to be because of that. He refused to believe any other reason.

She began to lean in and Clyde could feel the overwhelming urge to allow her to kiss him wash over him. He couldn’t allow that to happen, however. Not while she was not in the right state of mind. He put a hand on her shoulder and stopped her movements, making her furrow her eyebrows and pout at him. The sight alone was testing him.

“C’mon. You’re high, you don’t know what you’re saying,” he mumbled, watching as her pout developed into a frown.

“What? But I thought-”

“Just go to sleep or something, I don’t know Y/N,” he sighed out, running a hand through his hair. Y/N shrugged and laid her head back down on his lap, yawning and closing her eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to look down, knowing that if he did, he’d regret not kissing her.

—-------------

Things were tense after that. He drove her home after ensuring she was fairly sober, making sure she left after ingesting a fair amount of fast food. He could still see the wide smile that plastered itself onto her face when he presented her with an extra large cup of soda. That night he didn't sleep, though that was fairly common for him. This time, however, he refused to lull himself to sleep with daydreams of them together, afraid that he’d get overwhelmed. They didn’t see each other for another week after that, which after spending almost the entire month together, obviously aroused suspicion from Y/N. She couldn’t recall much of what happened that day, knowing that she got high and did go on a tangent about baby whales, though everything else was a blur. She first assured Clyde was busy. After all, he had been acting semi-normal when he bought her food and dropped her off, and a day later the two talked on the phone for about ten minutes. But then he changed. He texted her less and when he did text her, it was fairly short replies with no warmth or jokes like usual. She’d begun to get the feeling that she did something wrong but had no idea what it was.

After two days with no contact on the phone, she grew extremely worried. Not only for his sake but also for their relationship. Did she say- or do- something while high? She decided that night she was going to check on him.

After sneaking out and lying to her parents about what she was doing for a little over a month, she began to grow increasingly good at deceiving them. Of course, it never felt good, and she found herself actually praying for forgiveness some nights, though she was far too addicted to the rush she got from doing so to ever stop. That night, like most, she kissed her parents goodnight and waited until around 10 p.m. to sneak out. She didn’t bother texting Clyde to let him know she was visiting, not wanting to risk him running away to avoid her.

When she arrived at the building he usually stayed at, she went straight to his usual spot, though was unable to find him. She frowned. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be out at night, the issue was he had more than just one or two spots he went to hang out, and she really didn’t feel like walking around the streets of Las Vegas at night in search of him. She decided to suck it up, though, knowing that her relationship -or lack thereof- with Clyde was more important than preserving her energy.

She stopped by Johnny’s room to see if he was there, pushing the door open slightly and clearing her throat over the loud video game sound effects and music coming from his T.V. making him glance over and nod in her direction.

“Yo,” he spoke absentmindedly, his fingers harshly clicking the buttons of the video game controller in his hands. Y/N smiled at him though he wasn’t paying attention.

“Have you seen Clyde?” she asked, her hand gripping onto the door.

Johnny takes a second to answer, his eyebrows furrowing though Y/N can’t tell if it’s because he’s too focused on the game or if it’s because he’s actually trying to think of when the last time he saw Clyde was. Y/N raises her eyebrows expectantly, and Johnny pauses his game and looks at her. “He went to the park with Snow, said he needed to clear his mind or something,” he says while scratching his head. Y/N can tell he wants to say more and stays in her place by the door.

He continues. “Not that it’s any of my business but uh…did you and Clyde get into some argument or something? I didn’t wanna eavesdrop but when they were leaving I heard her mention something about girls and then your name and…well I don’t know I just haven’t seen you around this week so I just assumed.” He shrugged and leaned over to grab a beer bottle on a tiny wooden table, chugging the liquid down. Y/N smiled. She remembered her first impression of him wasn’t the best, thinking he was a bit of a dick and standoffish, though he eventually came around. She sighed and patted the side of the door, getting ready to make her departure.

“Ya know Johnny that is a GREAT question. I’m about to go find out,” she replied simply before waving goodbye and rushing off. Johnny stared after her and shrugged before returning to his video game.

Y/N wasn’t too worried about Clyde hanging out with Snow this late at night alone. She’d interacted with Snow several amount of times before and she was a very sweet girl, although a bit ditzy whenever she was intoxicated (which was a little too often.) She gave Y/N a safe space to talk about being a girl and made it obvious that Clyde was her friend and nothing more. She of course became aware of Y/N’s feelings for Clyde before Y/n herself was even aware of them, and took any chance she got to push the two together. Overall she was the cute blonde girl who at first glance looked like a mean girl but would actually end up being your best friend.

What concerned her was the fact that her name was mentioned in their conversation, meaning Clyde was talking about her despite not reaching out to her at all. She had to have done something wrong. As she walked towards the local park she did nothing but think through the countless number of possible ways she could have fucked up. She had eight minutes to think through exactly what she was going to say when she saw him. Was she going to be angry? Demand why he didn’t talk to her for days? Or maybe she’d take a softer approach.

Eight minutes was not enough time to make any decision. By the time she got to the park, she was less than ready, staring at the figures sitting on a bench a few feet away. She could easily tell it was Clyde and Snow based on the shape of his hair, and she felt her palms get clammy as she walked towards them. Clearly, she didn’t think that through.

“Clyde.” Was all she said as she approached the two. They both turned, though Clyde was a lot quicker, and Snow smiled widely when she saw Y/N.

“See, what’d I say,” she whispered over to Clyde, patting his shoulder before getting up and smiling warmly at her friend. Y/N couldn’t be upset with her, she was far too cute, so she smiled back. Snow leaned in and gave Y/N a quick hug, patting her back before walking away without another word. It was silent after that.

Clyde turned back around and stared down at the ground, Y/N walking to the front of the bench and sitting down next to him. She left little room for him to run away. Whatever it was, they were going to confront it tonight. Y/N was the first to speak after gathering her thoughts.

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked, her voice breaking. She didn’t intend to get emotional so early in the conversation but she couldn’t help it. Aside from the fact that she harbored feelings for him, his friendship meant a lot to her. He was the first friend she’d made who she felt completely comfortable around. He introduced her to a whole new world that she didn’t know existed, and she knew that world meant nothing without him. He was ingrained into her.

Clyde looked up quickly and stared at her, his eyes wide and bloodshot. When she turned to look at him she couldn’t help but feel pity. He’d obviously been lacking sleep. “Jesus Clyde, what’s happened?” She asked, leaning in and cupping his face in her hands. He twitched underneath her touch but said nothing. Y/N inspected his face for a sign, anything that would tell her what was wrong, but she found nothing. That was until she looked into his eyes.

She couldn’t tell what it was, but the intensity of his eyes made it so that she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. She didn’t need to hear any words to understand that he was in some weird internal battle with himself.

“You told me you liked me.” Clyde finally breaks his silence. His voice was so quiet, she could almost barely hear it. She’d never heard him so vulnerable before.

“What?”

“When you were high you told me you liked me and tried to kiss me.” Y/N was at a loss for words. She should have known she’d say something so stupid in a moment of vulnerability. She let go of his face and opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, so Clyde continued. “I can’t be with you, Y/N. And if I can’t be with you then I don’t know what else to do with myself.”

She was confused now. What did he mean by ‘he couldn’t be with her?’ Was that because he didn’t feel the same way? Then why add that last part? She searched for the words in her brain though all that could come out was a weak “What?”

“Y/N,” he breathed in and looked away, as if he felt guilty, “I like you. But I can’t let myself ruin you.”

She should have felt overjoyed. She just got confirmation that her crush liked her back, this should have been a happy moment, but instead, she just felt nauseous. The pit in her stomach that had been lingering there for about a week was intensifying.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” She spat out. Ruin her? How could he ever ruin her? “Clyde, I don’t know what you’re talking about and to be honest, I don’t care. You couldn’t ever ruin me-“

“Y/N, you’re Christian.” Y/N stared in disbelief, ready to ridicule him for bringing up such an irrelevant fact before he continued. “You’re Christian and you’re- you’re fucking amazing. You’re like a rainbow at the end of a storm, and I know that it’s fucking cliché and corny, and you can make fun of me all you want, but I don’t know how else to describe it. You don’t smoke, you don’t drink, and you hadn’t had a soda in years before I bought you one for fucks sake! You’re in your own sweet, innocent little world, and I took you away from that. I don’t wanna take you away from more.”

His confession left her speechless. She understood what he was trying to say, having had the same thoughts before. They WERE different, though she didn’t have to carry the burden of thinking she was ‘tainting’ him the way he did with her. He was the opposite of everything her parents wanted for her. Disobeyed his parents, he smoked and occasionally drank, he definitely didn’t hold any religious beliefs that they would agree with, and the list went on longer than she’d like it to.

She looked down at her hands which rested on top of her knees. She’d hate to admit he was right. They both sat in silence for a while, seemingly contemplating what they should do. She felt weird. As if he was somehow misconstructing the truth. She didn’t doubt that he felt bad about changing her, though something was telling her that wasn’t the full story. If he really did feel so bad, why did he let her keep hanging around him? Why not cut contact earlier? He was leaving something out.

“Tell me the truth, Clyde,” she sighed out. Clyde frowned and turned to look at her.

“That is the truth.”

“No, it’s not. I don’t know if you’re lying to me or something but there’s no way the only reason is cause you feel guilty.” Clyde bit the inside of his cheek.

“I’m not good for you,” he began and Y/N rolled her eyes, sitting back on the bench and crossing her arms. He ignored her and continued, “I’m a dumbass, Y/N. I don’t think you understand just how-“ he sighs, exasperated. “I can’t give you anything. I don’t have a lot of money to fucking buy you jewelry like some other guy can, shit I don’t even have like a real home to live in! Shit, dude, I’m like…the worst guy you could date.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. Clyde was obviously confused by her random change in mood, though Y/N couldn’t stop herself. As she threw her head back her laughter died down to just giggles. “So this is all about you not being good enough for me?” She turned towards him.

He sniffled, wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket and avoiding her gaze.”So what? You think it’s fucking stupid?” He asks, laughing a bit to mask his hurt. She wordlessly grabbed his hands and removed them from his face, forcing him to maintain eye contact. Cupping his cheeks once again, she wipes away the few stray tears that managed to fall and smiles at him. Without warning, she leans in and kisses him.

The kiss is soft as if she were worried about breaking him, and Clyde has no idea how to respond. He keeps his hands by his side and closes his eyes, relishing the feeling of her lips against his. He knows his are cracked and probably dry but she doesn’t care. As he goes to lift his hands to grab her face, she pulls away, confusing him. He finds it adorable how her face is obviously flushed despite being the one to initiate the kiss.

“Clyde, I don’t give a damn if you don’t have any money,” she breaks the silence. He says nothing and just continues to admire her. “I don’t care if you don’t have a proper home, or proper parents, or a proper attitude. I like you because you’re fun. You’re fun and you’re sweet and you’ve shown me that life doesn’t have to be lived by the rules only. And holy shit did my life suck before I met you.” Clyde laughs quietly.

She presses her forehead against his and he shuts his eyes, smiling. It was pure silence around the two and if they focused hard enough, it felt like they were the only two in the world.

————————-

Two months pass by without an issue. Y/N continues to visit Clyde in secret and once in a while he stops by her house, but only when her parents are asleep. The two share a few kisses in her dark room, talk about whatever came up, kiss some more until he eventually wound up on top of her, and then say goodbye. He promised her that he’d never pressure her into doing anything she wasn’t ready for, and though she trusted him with her entire life, she knew she wasn’t ready to take a step like that.

It was a rainy Saturday night when Y/N made her first mistake.

The two were hanging out in Clyde’s room, Johnny, Snow, and Lola joining them. The other three were obviously intoxicated and trying to play a game of Monopoly while Clyde and Y/N sat in the corner of the room, Y/N’s legs over Johnny’s lap while he drew something in his notebook. Y/N painted her nails with a dark purple polish Lola let her borrow.

“What are you drawing?” She asked, leaning forward a bit to try and get a glimpse. Clyde smirked and pushed back, swatting her hands away as well.

“Mind your business,” he laughed. Y/N rolled her eyes and set the polish aside, removing her legs from his lap. Clyde looked away from his drawing to stare at her questioningly before she maneuvered herself to sit next to him. He shut his notebook and threw it to the side, wrapping an arm around her as she put her head on his shoulder. They watched the other three argue about fake money and properties.

“Man fuck you, Lola! That was supposed to be my station??” Johnny spat out while Lola laughed and flipped him off.

“Yes? Well, it’s mine now. Too bad,” she hummed happily, flipping her brown hair over her shoulder as Snow passed her a large bottle of alcohol.

“Hope your ass lands in prison…” he grumbled, making Clyde snicker under his breath. Y/N smirked and reached out to grab Clyde’s hand, subconsciously playing with his fingers. He looked down at their hands and then at her.

“Ready to go home?” He asked. She hummed in thought and glanced over at a clock nearby.

“In like…five minutes. I’ve got church tomorrow morning so I gotta be up early,” she whined and threw her head back, Clyde raising his hand so that the back of her head didn’t hit the wall. Snow, who apparently has been watching them and listening in on their conversation, sucks her teeth.

“Why don’t you just tell them you don’t wanna go?” She asks, laying down. Clyde rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Yeah, bright idea, she’ll just tell her vehemently Christian parents that she doesn’t want to go church. That definitely won’t be suspicious,” he remarks. Y/N glares at him.

“Don’t be a dick, Clyde,” she whispers. Looking over at Snow, she smiles softly. “He’s got a point though. They’ll get all weird and assume I’m doing something behind their backs which… I am but…” she shrugs.

Snow passes over another bottle of alcohol to Clyde which he declines. “Gotta drive her home,” he mumbles as an excuse. Johnny laughs.

“Look at you being a good little boyfriend,” he teases and Clyde side-eyes him. He gets up, extending his hand out for Y/N to take, and helping her get up when she does. He then walks over to Johnny, smacking him on the back of the head while simultaneously grabbing his keys from the table nearby.

“It’s called making sure we don’t fucking die on the road.” He scoffed. Y/N bent over to hug Snow and Lola before ruffling Johnny’s hair, waving goodbye to everyone as they walked towards the door.

“See you guys later!” She exclaimed while following Clyde out of the room. They walked down the hallway in comfortable silence until they went down the stairs and reached the front doors. It was pouring rain outside and Y/N grimaced at the idea of getting soaked. Clyde sighed and searched around for an umbrella he could borrow, but he came to no luck. He then shrugs off his jacket and hands it to Y/N who smiles gratefully in response. She puts it on and puts the hood over her head to protect her hair, and the two interlock hands before counting down to three.

“Ready? One, two, three-!” Clyde counted out, gripping her hand tightly as they ran out into the pouring rain, giggling as they crossed the street to where his van was parked. Clyde hurries to unlock the doors, Y/N laughing at how his hair was sticking to his face. They rushed inside and drove off. Clyde drops her off a couple of streets away from her house just in case anyone were to see her, they wouldn’t see her being dropped off by a rusty van.

As the vehicle comes to a stop, Clyde turns to face her but she quickly smashes her lips against his. His hands immediately go to cup her face, and she runs a hand through his hair as their kiss grows rougher. He pulls away first after a couple of seconds, breathing heavily and laughing.

“You gotta go-” he’s interrupted by her kissing him again. He makes a small “hmph” sound as their lips touch, and this time she tries to pull him closer by his collar. His hand travels down her face to her neck and he wraps his fingers around her neck loosely. She whines against his lips and he has to remind himself that they are inside his van in the middle of a Christian neighborhood. This time Y/N pulls away, giggling as she gives him one last kiss on the cheek before opening the door and rushing out, shouting out a quick goodbye and thank you.

Clyde doesn’t even have time to utter a response as she’s gone by the time he really comes to his senses. He shakes his head while laughing and drives off.

—--------------------

Y/N is asleep for longer than she should have been, seemingly sleeping through her alarms and her mothers shouts for her to get up. She barges in through the door, obviously annoyed, and huffs out another “Get up”, yanking the blankets off of Y/N. Y/N groans and turns over, shielding her face from the sun shining through her windows.

“Get up, Y/N! What has gotten into you? Do you not remember we have service this morning? You have twenty minutes to get ready, hurry. Since you seem to be incapable of getting up on your own I’ll have to pick your dress for you as well, since you want to be a child.” Y/N can barely understand her mother, still too groggy to even respond. She sits up on her bed and rubs her eyes, yawning, and stretches her arms in the air, as her mother goes through her closet in search of something she can wear to Church. She mutters to herself, commenting about each dress she sees as she frantically goes through her closet before going awfully silent for a few seconds. Y/N takes notice of this and furrows her eyebrows, scooting towards the front of her bed.

“Mom? What’s wrong-?” She herself goes quiet when her mother pulls out Clyde’s jacket that was stashed in the back of the closet and holds it up for her to see. Suddenly the atmosphere of the room is tense, and Y/N feels as though she can’t breathe. She watches as her mother wrinkles her nose at the smell, holding the jacket up by her fingertips. It’s already very apparent that it’s a males jacket, though Y/N’s plan on lying and telling her mother it’s a jacket one of her friends let her borrow from Church immediately goes to shit when her mother scoffs.

“This smells like rain and cologne…Y/N where did you get this? And why is it wet? You didn’t leave the house yesterday.” Y/N can feel her throat closing in. The room feels as though it’s closing in on her as she and her mother lock eyes in a silent battle, one that Y/N is losing horribly. This tension is luckily diffused the moment her father calls out to her mother, and she turns to look towards the door. She glances back at Y/N once again and then leaves the room in a hurry, the jacket in her hands. Y/N watches her leave in silence before groaning and covering her face with her hands, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

She didn’t know if it was some sick joke or if the universe was just against her, but that day’s sermon was about disobeying one's parents and straying from the word of God.

—--------------------

The jacket incident wasn’t brought up again. She didn’t understand if her mother just forgot about it or decided that it wasn’t worth arguing over, either way, Y/N was glad. She called Clyde the next day when her parents were out of the house and told him what happened, telling him that she’d take a break from sneaking out and visiting him. She couldn’t risk raising suspicion on her. Clyde was obviously upset though understood that she was just taking necessary precautions and told her to stay safe and let him know if she ever needed any help. For the remainder of the week, she didn’t call or text him and made sure to be on her best behavior. This, of course, did not go unnoticed by her mother.

After a couple more days, Y’N assumed she was sort of in the clear to at least contact him again. She texted him an update and asked how he and the others were doing, leading to him sending her an onslaught of messages complaining about how he missed her and “couldn’t stand dealing with the others without her around.” She then reminded him he was friends with them way before he met her, and he just ignored her and asked when he’d see her again.

CLYDE

Y/N: i’m scared, don’t want her 2 notice anything weird

CLYDE: It’ll be fine, it’s been days hasn’t it?

Y/N: yeah but…

CLYDE: Just come over for like a hour or two.

The others wanna see you too.

Y/N sighs. She can’t deny his offer, no matter how many warning signs are going off in her head. She missed him, she missed being around him, she missed his lips, and she missed her friends. Just an hour or two wouldn’t hurt, right? She types back.

Y/N: fine, but just for two hours and then i gotta be right back home.

CLYDE: Awesome. I’ll pick you up at 11.

—--------------------

That was her second mistake.

Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t the actual act of sneaking out that got her caught. No, it was the fact that her mother got the inkling to just check her phone the next morning while she slept. She should have known something was going to go wrong considering how smoothly the night before went. She did her usual routine of kissing her parents goodnight, waiting till they slept, and sneaking out of the house at exactly 11 on the dot. The moment she stepped foot out of her house she ran towards the street he usually dropped her off at and sure enough his van was parked.

She ran inside and almost immediately after settling herself down on her seat, Clyde smashed his lips against hers. It took her by surprise though she had no issue with it and leaned into the kiss, placing a hand on his shoulder. The kiss was rougher and noisier than any of their previous ones, with their lips making a smacking sound every time they moved. They eventually pulled away when Clyde’s hand slipped around the back of her neck, and they took a minute to catch their breath.

“Good to see you too,” she joked, giggling as she wiped her mouth, Clyde only nodded and laughed breathlessly, turning on the engine and driving off. They didn’t do much that night, simply going to his room and making up for lost time (this of course included talking about their days while interrupting each other with kisses that led to her being on his lap and leaving one or two bruises on his neck). Eventually, Snow and Johnny stopped by. Snow was probably more ecstatic to see her than everyone else, having almost crushed her with a hug that lasted exactly two minutes, and the four played games and talked about what she’d missed.

Clyde drove her home two hours later, as promised, and the two departed with yet another passionate kiss. They agreed to meet again the following night at the same time, feeling as if only one night a week wasn’t enough. When she got back home everything was as it should be. Everyone was in bed and her pillows were still placed in the exact positions she had arranged them to be under her blanket. She was happy and secure when she went to bed, which is exactly why she panicked the next morning when she couldn’t find her phone.

She’d searched everywhere, her entire room turned upside down as she tried desperately to find her phone. It wasn’t underneath her pillow where she put it before she went to sleep, it wasn’t in any of her drawers or on top of her dresser or bedside table, and it wasn’t in her closet. It wasn’t under her bed or in her jewelry boxes, and as she continued to search, that unmistakable feeling of dread settled upon her. She knew she took it with her up to her room, she specifically remembers policing it underneath her pillow before falling asleep, so why couldn’t she find it? There was only one answer and the thought alone made her nauseous.

She couldn’t bring herself to go downstairs. She knew she had to eventually, but a part of her wanted to stay locked inside her room until she died. She might as well die now in peace, seeing as the moment she walks down those stairs, she is sealing her fate. Was her room always this stuffy? Why did it feel so dark? It was only ten in the morning. Y/N took a moment to sit down on her bed and try to catch her breath. It was no use, however, and she could feel herself hyperventilating. She’d done so much over the past couple of months and she’d gotten so used to going unnoticed that the prospect of getting caught wasn’t really in her mind much at all anymore. Clearly, she had gotten too cocky.

She knew she had to go downstairs. There was no use in prolonging the inevitable. As she made her way out of her room -extremely slowly-, she took notice of just how quiet it was. Her house was never a noisy one, seeing as it was just the three of them, though she added context of her parents waiting for her downstairs to confront her seemed to emphasize the silence. She trudged down the stairs, feeling lightheaded. She had to grip onto the railing tighter than usual to ensure she wouldn’t fall. Her footsteps were too loud. The lights were too bright. Somehow everything that she encountered every day overwhelmed her. As she approached the dining room she felt her mouth go dry.

There both her father and mother sat in chairs right next to each other, holding hands. They looked glum. Y/N’s eyes drifted towards the objects on the table in front of them. Sure enough, it was her phone and Clyde’s jacket. She was beyond fucked and there was absolutely no way out of this. She didn’t even bother moving towards them, instead staying frozen in her place. She couldn’t move even if she wanted to. She was quite literally paralyzed by fear.

“Take a seat.” Her father never had a ‘warm’ tone to his voice, yet she’d never heard him be so cold and demanding. When she looked over at her mother she took note of how she refused to make eye contact with her. She was always the softer of the two. Y/N refused to take pity on her, however. She was the one who brought this situation to life. Despite that small little voice in her head telling her not to, Y/N walked towards the table and took a seat in front of the two, her face stoic. If she was going to go through this, she needed to seem as unbothered as possible.

“Do you understand what you have done?” Her father didn’t wait to begin berating her. Y/N continued to stay silent, her eyes fixated on Clyde’s jacket. Oddly enough the sight alone gave her a sense of comfort, knowing that it belonged to the boy who was there to support her no matter what and always keep her safe. This of course didn’t apply to the current situation. Only God knew what was about to happen to her.

“You’ve completely broken any ounce of trust your mother and I have spent years building up. We have not raised you this way.” Somehow the lack of yelling and anger in his voice made this all the more terrifying. He was angry, his words didn’t conceal that at all, and when she looked up into his eyes, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d dug her own grave. They were washed over with this darkness that she couldn’t explain. She felt disgusted to be on the receiving end of his stare. “No daughter of mine will behave this way.”

She didn’t know what came over her. Perhaps she was momentarily possessed by some spirit that was like her outspoken alter-ego, or maybe she just had gone insane after months of being riddled with this guilt for disobeying her parents, but she opened her mouth to speak without any second thought. “What way?”

Her father scoffed and her mother pleaded with her through her gaze to take back what she said. While she certainly wasn’t intending to say that, now that it had left her mouth she needed to own up to it. She didn’t falter under her father's strict gaze. Her mother was the one to speak up.

“What he means is-”

“Quiet.” Her father is quick to shut her down. She shuts up. “You’re whoring yourself out to some stranger boy on the streets? Is that seriously how you intend to live your life? Do you not feel ashamed? Dirty?”

Y/N couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. She knew her father wouldn’t be happy, she wasn;t expecting him to throw rose petals and give her his blessing, but to go as far as accusing his onw daughter of being a whore? She couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in her eyes, though the rest of her face maintained neutral.

“Well? Speak!” He raised his voice for the first time and Y/N flinched. What was she supposed to say? Admit to his demeaning allegations?

“If you want me to call myself a whore then you might as well just leave now because you’re not getting a single confession from me.”

She definitely pissed him off with that one. He clenched his jaw and looked off to the side, taking in a deep breath as he tried to compose himself. He grabbed her phone and held it up so she could see, making her frown.

“You will never contact that boy again. Do you understand?”

Y/N would be stupid to assume this was the end. She nodded along to his words however to appease him. He stayed silent and hardened his gaze, making her realize he wanted a verbal response.

“Yes sir.”

He laughed. “I don’t think you understand. But you will soon.”

Before she could question what he meant he took her phone and threw it across the dining room, the impact making a loud noise as it hit the wall and fell to the floor. Both Y/N and her mother visibly flinched at the noise, and for the first time, she was genuinely afraid of something happening to her physically. Her father stood up and walked out of the room, not bothering to give her one last glance. She stared down at the table, her tears falling freely at this point. Her mother offered out her hand, though Y/N swatted it away and got up and stormed off as well.

—---------------

Clyde knew something was wrong when she didn’t show up at that night. He didn’t know what happened or why, but he was concerned. There wasn’t anything he could do, however, seeing as he couldn’t just walk up to her front door and knock and ask why she flaked out. He tried his best not to let his mind wander and assumed she’d just fallen asleep earlier. Or at least that’s what he tried to tell himself until the next day when he didn’t hear from her at all.

Now things were getting concerning. If she really had fallen asleep, she’d just text or call him and apologize. Her lack of contact made him wonder if something did happen to her and if something did happen, what could he do? He left her two text messages that day, both asking if she was alright. He decided to just wait, one wrong move and he’d be getting her in a world of trouble. His messages were never returned.

Another day went by without contact and though he didn’t show it outwardly, he was absolutely freaking the fuck out. It was unusual for her to go radio silent with absolutely zero warning, and after not showing up the other night, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. What if she’d gotten caught? What was he supposed to do? Go to her house and demand she give him an explanation? Threaten to fight her parents? Throw rocks at her window to get her attention and then convince her to leave her home and run away with him?

Being the romantic that he was, he naturally chose the last option. He drove to her house the next day at around 12 am, stopping his van a few streets away like he normally would in case anyone was nosy enough to even look at the front of her house. He walked in the cold night with a pocket full of tiny pebbles, mentally going through what he was going to say to her. He knew that despite her feelings for him, she loved and respected her parents, so it wouldn’t be easy to convince her to leave. That and he knew how rough life was when you didn’t have the support of a parent or loved one to fall back on. He was okay living like that but he didn’t want that to be her reality as well. She deserved better than that, even if it was a couple of assholes with old fashion traditions.

Once he arrived at her window he threw the first pebble, getting no response. That’s fine, she probably didn’t hear it. He threw another one and again: no response. He threw another one, and another one, and eventually, he’d thrown every pebble in his pocket. Making a mental note to carry more the next time, he debated yelling out her name though decided against it. He couldn’t risk her parents hearing him. He walked away, dejected and ready to return the next day to try again.

He decided to take his chances and call her again the next day, just in case she was asleep the night before and just didn’t hear him. He knew the call was going through but didn’t understand why she wasn’t picking up, and to be quite honest, it was starting to piss him off. His anger wasn’t directed towards her of course, no, he was mad at her parents. Why couldn’t they just let her be happy? When his call went to voicemail he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Leave a message after the beep,” the robotic voice spoke and Clyde had to suppress everything in him that was telling him to just throw his phone at the wall. After hearing the beep he shook his head and looked around his room.

“Hey, Y/N. I don’t know what the fuck happened -I mean I have an idea but- I need you to call me back okay? I don’t care if it’s to tell me that you can’t see me anymore, I don’t care if it’s your stupid fucking parents telling me I’m a piece of shit who isn’t good enough for their daughter, I really don’t give a shit. I just want to know you’re okay. Call me back when you get this. Bye.”

—-----------------

She did NOT in fact call him back. He visited her house again the next night and brough two pockets full of pebbles, taking his sweet time throwing them at her window just like the other night. Still, no answer. He could have sworn he’d seen her light flash off when he was approaching her window though he wasn’t sure if he was just going crazy. He was getting frustrated. How else was he supposed to feel? When he got back to his room that night, he completely ignored Snow and Lola who tried to cheer him up with some alcohol and instead went straight to bed, though he of course didn’t sleep at all that night.

The next day he called her again. The call went to voicemail again, and he cursed at the stupidity of leaving a message she probably wasn’t going to hear or respond to. Yet he still left one.

“Hey, uhm I don’t know what is going on over there but you need to call me back dude. This isn’t fucking funny okay?” His voice was sounding uncharacteristically desperate. He needed to remind himself that it wasn’t that serious. Or at least that’s what he needed to believe to keep himself calm. “Call me and tell your parents to go fuck themselves while you’re at it, okay? Stay safe, bye.”

—-----------------

He knew she wasn’t going to be responding to any of his phone calls, yet for every day that passed by, he left a new one.

“I don’t know what to do, Y/N. It’s not like I can just show uo to your fuckin’ house and, like, demand your parents to let you see me. I mean, I could but, what the fuck is that gonna do? Come on Y/N just…fuck.”

—--------------

“At least I know you’re not playing some stupid fucking prank on me now. There’s no way you’d be able to keep it going this far. I don’t even know if you’re listening to these. Or your parents. Is anyone fucking there? Are they doing some weird punishment thing where they force you to listen to each of these messages and fucking laugh at me or something? That’d be fucked up. Call me back sometime in the near future. Preferably before I die.”

—-------------

“Snow is on my ass right now because of you, did you know that? She’s pissed at me. Thinks I’m not doing enough to see you. I don’t know what the fuck she wants me to but she’s been complaining about how she misses you. Everyone’s kinda on edge right now. Would be really cool if you’d, I don’t know, pop up out of nowhere. We miss you.”

—-----------

“Y’know I look like a dumbass making all these phone calls and leaving all these fucking voicemails knowing they aren’t going to anyone. There’s a part of me that wishes you’d just pick up randomly and we’d just talk normally as if nothing happened… that’s so stupid what the fuck am I saying? Fucking corny….I gotta go. Miss you.”

—----------

“Uhm. I know I was always awkward about it in person and shit but… I really like you, you know? I hope you do. Even if I’m not there to say it. Just…remember that for me okay? I like you. I trust you. To me, that means a lot more than love. But I do love you. I hate saying it cause it’s fucking stupid and you can’t count on anyone ever so what’s the point of saying it, yknow? And maybe it’s stupid to even think I love you because we really only knew each other for a couple of months but…whatever. Bye.”

—----------

“So what? You’re gonna give up on her? That’s your fucking GIRLFRIEND, Clyde.” Snow smacked the side of Clyde’s head making him groan and divert his eyes from her. He wasn’t giving up, or at least he refused to look at it that way. He’d decided to give up calling. He refused to be held captive by the idea, the fantasy, of her coming back and answering the phone one day. He lifted the blunt to his lips and took a deep breath in, trying his best to ignore her scolding.

“Clyde what if something seriously bad happened at her place? Think about her point of view, for fucks sake. Stop feeling bad for yourself and maybe think about how bad this is is for HER. She has to live in a house with those people.” Clyde would never admit Snow had a point. He refused to ever give her the satisfaction of being right, though he’d be stupid to ignore her words and continue wallowing in his self pity. He let her say her peace and without a word handed her the blunt, getting up and grabbing his keys, before walking out the door. She called out to him though he wasn’t listening.

—-------------

Y/N was beyond fucked. She’d spent the past 12 days in isolation in their guest room, only allowed to leave to use the bathroom. She was no longer allowed to eat with her parents at the dinner table, though she didn’t complain, grateful that she didn’t have to see the pathetic excuse of a man she had to call her father. It was lonely, being stuck in her room with no other way out. She knew her phone had survived being thrown by her father though her mother told her he’d confiscated it and planned on never returning it. She didn’t care anymore. Speaking of her mother, she refused to speak with her. She didn’t give a damn if she was more compassionate than her father. She’d shown him the messages and she’d presented the jacket to him, so her predicament was just as much her mothers fault as it was her fathers.

She couldn’t begin to explain how lonely she felt. This wasn’t living. She never knew what living was until she met Clyde. He’d taught her that life was more than just Sunday morning Church services, bible verses to abide by, doing chores around the house, going to school, and sleeping. There was going out at night and meeting new people, listening to music that actually spoke to your soul instead of reiterating tired biblical lessons, eating the foods that actually made you happy and crave for more, and loving so hard that you’d rather spend your entire life in isolation with that other person than breathe without them. Y/N knew that without Clyde, she wasn’t herself, not because she depended on him to live, but because he ingrained himself into her.

She had a roof over her head, she had food and water and she had clothes, but she had no real substance to her life. And she’d rather be disowned by her family for the rest of her life than continue to live this way.

—----------------

Smoking just wasn’t cutting it out for Clyde at the moment. He’d driven off to a park pretty far from where he lived so he wouldn’t encounter anyone he knew. He needed time to himself. Standing outside his van, he rested against it and crossed his arms while smoking a cigarette, ignoring the ‘NO SMOKING’ sign just a few inches away from him. He wasn’t known for his ability to abide by rules. Snow’s words replayed in his mind constantly. She was annoying. She was annoying, and persistent, but she was right. Hitting the back of his head on his van, he threw his cigarette down on the ground and stepped on it.

“Godamnit…” he sighed out and ran a hand through his hair. He paced. Was he really going to just let her stay in that toxic environment? Who’s to say his plan would even work though? He’ll never know unless he tries. But if he does try and fail, it’d be a waste of time.

“Fuck!” He hissed out, smacking his van once, and then twice, before smacking it one final time and backing away. Catching his breath, he backed away and pushed his hair back before getting back in and starting the van.

—--------------

This was not thought out at all, Clyde realizes as he stands in front of her front door. He was either about to get his ass beat or take home the girl of his dreams. Either way, he was shitting his pants. He rang the doorbell and looked down at the ground, muttering under his breath “This is so fucking stupid.”

He could hear footsteps behind the door and straightened his posture, watching the doorknob jiggle before the door swung open. Clyde studied the man in front of him and the man did the same with him, though his eyes narrowed almost immediately.

“You’ve got some nerve showing up here, boy.” The man, who Clyde assumed was her father, snarled at him. Clyde’s face contorted in disgust at his words.

“Jesus, could you sound any more like a weird Southern creep? Sorry, is saying Jesus offensive to you people? I don’t give a shit actually- anyways, ya kind of left me with no choice here but to make sure my girlfriend was still alive…” Clyde rambled, though he knew he was only making his case worse when he saw her father clench his fist in the corner of his eye.

“What are you trying to say? Are you accusing me of murdering my daughter?” Her father scoffed and it took Clyde everything in him to not laugh in his face.

“It was more of a… never mind.” He shook his head. “Just let me talk to her man, I’ll leave you alone after that.”

This time it was her father's turn to laugh, though Clyde remained as stoic as he could possibly be with the anger that was slowly bubbling up inside of him. He could see someone moving around in the background and glanced over, seeing her mother. He raised his eyebrows at her and she quickly scurried away after being noticed. He directed his attention back to the man in front of him.

—---------------

Y/N could hear two voices outside the room and though the other sounded so familiar, she refused to believe it was actually him. There was no way he’d really come for her, and as she lay on her back on the bed provided, she stared up at the ceiling and wondered what would she do if it really were him. Just as she closed her eyes to sleep, the doorknob began to rattle, startling her. There wasn’t reason for anyone to open the door for her at this hour, and she hadn’t asked to use the bathroom.

She sat up straight and stared at the door as it slowly opened, her mother in clear view. Before Y/N could even ask what was happening, she heard the one voice she swore she’d never hear again, and her heart soared. If she was being fully honest, she didn’t care much for her mother doing this final favor for her, though she gave her a grateful smile nonetheless as she jumped up out of the bed and ran out the door. She didn’t hesitate to run straight to the front door, pausing behind her father.

“Listen asshole, you’re really testing my patience here-”

“Watch your language, the lord is watching.”

“Who gives a damn! Just let me see her-” Clyde stopped completely when he saw her step out from behind her father. His eyes widened and her father turned around to see what he was looking at, growing furious at the sight of his daughter who should have been locked away in a room.

“You let her out?” He asked her mother, his voice low and Y/N backed away out of fear. Clyde looked over at her and then back at the man, his breath quickening. Things were about to get ugly fast, and they needed to leave. He motioned over for Y/N to walk over, and as she tried to discreetly make her way toward him while her father was distracted, the older man looked over and grabbed her wrist to prevent her from moving any further. Despite her struggles and protests, he wouldn’t let go, tightening his grip on her. She looked over at Clyde for help and he did the only thing he could think of.

His hand was going to hurt like a bitch after this.

Punching her father square in the jaw, he let go of her and she ran towards Clyde. He groaned and grabbed his jaw, watching as the two fled hand in hand. “Know that you can never come back to this house ever again! No daughter of mine will be another man's slut!” He yelled out to them. They both couldn't be bothered to listen, giggling as they ran, the cold air hitting their faces. Once they were finally out of sight Clyde pulled her in, his hand cupping the back of her neck as the two crashed their lips against one another. Giggling in between kisses they struggled to pull apart, lips stuck in a dance with each other, and that’s how they intended to stay for as long as they lived.

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

a/n: holy shit this was long. to be honest, i lost a lot of motivation towards the end which is why it isn’t the best, but i really did try my best! i hope you all enjoyed<33

#clyde x reader #electrick children #rory culkin #clyde electrick children #electrick children clyde #clyde x y/n #rory culkin x reader #oneshot

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hardboiledleggs · 1 year

Note

You lovely person who asked for a writing prompt? 88, Steddie please?

I spent entirely too long on this, but here you go darling! Prompt #88 of this post, Steddie-style. This one is very Eddie-focused today because I had to watch his last scene again to write it and now I am sad. CW for vomit and blood. As always, comment or message me if you'd like to be added to my permanent Steddie fic tag list :) Enjoy!

~~~

Dustin scrambles up their makeshift rope and out of the Upside Down. Eddie wraps his own hands around the sheets and starts to haul himself up after him, trying to ignore the splintering of the only barrier between himself and the bats behind him. A renewed shrieking bursts from behind the door, and Eddie stops pulling himself upward. Suddenly, he isn’t thinking about himself or Dustin. He’s imagining Steve, bravely and stupidly walking into the house of an interdimensional evil wizard to save all of their friends, trusting Eddie to buy him time.

Dustin is screaming at him, begging him to climb. Eddie closes his eyes, and it’s not Chrissy floating behind his lids anymore, but Steve. Steve, struck blind, each bone snapping like a toothpick, all because Eddie wasn’t able to give him enough time. He looks up at Dustin, registers the panic on his face and in his voice, and lets go of the rope.

“Eddie!” Dustin cries after him, but it’s too late. Eddie has already swung his weapon, destroying their rope and any chance Dustin might have of following him. “Eddie what are you doing?!”

He gazes up at his friend. “I have to help him, Dustin. I’m so sorry!” Swinging his shield over his shoulder, Eddie sprints outside as Dustin howls behind him.

Eddie throws himself onto his rickety bike and peddles frantically, trying to outrun the swarm, outrun his own death. He doesn’t even make it out of the trailer park before they catch him. Gravel bites into his cheek as he’s thrown off the bike, rolling over and over before coming to a breathless stop in the dirt. Scrambling to his feet, Eddie grabs the handlebars again and forces the tires to spin faster. He has to make it to the house.

A conversation he had once had with his uncle worms its way unbidden into his racing thoughts.

“Wayne, I can’t be like you. If you ask out the cute barista at the coffee shop, the worst she can say is no. If I ask out the wrong guy, I’m risking a whole lot more than a broken heart.”

“Life is all about risks, Ed. And I’m pretty sure love is the biggest one. Don’t matter who you love, it’s the lovin’ that can kill you.”

And it would be the loving that killed him this time, as he peddles furiously toward the lair of a monster who could melt his brain without lifting a finger. The bats wail furiously at his back as he flies through the choking air and red lightning flashes through the sky behind him. Eddie’s lungs were burning, worse than any cigarette smoke could cause, and he thinks wistfully that if he lived through all of this bat-shit craziness maybe he would finally try to quit smoking (weed didn’t count).

A lance of searing pain flashes through his arm, and he screams as he sees a bat latch itself onto his forearm. He leans over and bites in a blind panic, shuddering and trying to ignore the spurt of foul blackness that fills his mouth, and tears away the wing of the creature. It flops to the ground and he spits its wing after it, forcing his brain to think about anything other than what he’d just done. Vegetarianism was starting to sound like a preferable lifestyle.

The Creel house looms in the distance. It’s too late now to go back and consider whether this was really the best plan. Eddie braces himself, then leaps from the seat of the bike without bothering to hit the brakes and launches himself up the creaking steps toward the door. The sickening slap of the wings echoes behind him, but he slams the door before they can follow him. The bodies thump dully against the door, the knock of the grim reaper.

“Steve!” he screams up the stairs.

Looking up, Eddie takes in the sight of his friends choking and gasping for air as the hive mind of vines squeezes the life from them. Knowing he has seconds before they realize he’s here, too, Eddie takes the steps three at a time. His mouth opens in a violent scream of rage as he swings his spear, severing the vines holding Steve Harrington aloft. He collapses to the ground, unmoving. Eddie spins, feeling the vines start to wind around his ankles, and slices at Nancy’s restraints before his feet are yanked out from under him.

His chin slams into the wood panels and there is a distinct cracking sound followed by a wave of agony through his skull. He’s hoisted in the air, whirling in a dizzying circle while held up by just one foot. Nancy is coughing violently underneath him, struggling to pull herself to her feet, but Steve still doesn’t move.

There’s a crash, and flames explode against the wall. Screams erupt from all around them as the vines writhe and twist in agony. Eddie plummets from the ceiling and lands on his left arm, yelping as a snap reverberates inside his skull and a throbbing ache begins in his wrist. His head hits the ground right next to Steve, whose eyes are still closed.

Nancy helps Robin to her feet, and they both scrabble along the ground to find their weapons as they hack violently. The vines are still trying to grab them, but the spreading flames were causing havoc among the hive mind. A hysterical thought runs through Eddie’s mind about what a cool mechanic this would be in a campaign, and he thinks he might be starting to lose it just a little bit.

“Stay here, Eddie! Keep him safe, we’re ending this right now,” Robin rasps as she shoulders her pack and the two women sprint towards Vecna. His vision is swimming. Steve’s lifeless face floats across his sight, and he shuts his eyes so he won’t have to see it. There’s a vague sort of pain in his side, but it’s nothing compared to the pain in his heart, knowing that he failed.

A shotgun blast echoes overhead and rattles the bones of the old house. Glass shatters and the damned beasts of this hell dimension shriek and moan and Eddie lays facedown and waits for it all to be over. Took the damn risk and it didn’t change a damn thing. I’m sorry, Steve.

A piteous groan splits the air next to him. Eddie scrambles to his knees, slipping against the suddenly wet floor and crying out when his arm is jostled. He drags himself toward Steve’s prone form, fingers fluttering uselessly against his body.

“Stevie? Can you hear me?”

Steve doesn’t speak. He is still for another few seconds before he abruptly shoots into a sitting position and pukes all over his own shoes. The acrid smell of bile and smoke fills Eddie’s nostrils, but he doesn’t care.

“Okay, just breathe, get it out,” he hums as he rubs slow circles on Steve’s back. The other man’s choked gasps for air are subsiding, his breathing relaxing. His eyes drift sideways to Eddie’s face.

“Hit my head,” Steve mumbles. “Why’re you here? Where’s Dustin?”

“I left him in the trailer park, the real trailer park, not the gross Upside Down one,” Eddie rushes to stem the rising tide of panic on Steve’s face. “I’m so sorry, I know it wasn’t the plan but I just had this feeling so I biked here, but I totally saved your asses so...”

Steve’s brow is furrowed, diverting the blood flowing down his temple. “On fire.”

Eddie turns, cursing as he takes in the flames licking their way up the walls. He wrenches himself to his feet, looking down for the first time to see that he is the reason the floor is wet. A stake of wood is buried in his stomach right above his hip, and his blood drips slowly onto the floor. He doesn’t understand what happened until he sees the ruins of the floorboards he had plummeted toward when the vine released him. His head is spinning again.

Steve manages to stumble to his feet, but immediately pitches sideways and vomits over the railing. Eddie slumps back to the floor as the dizziness overwhelms him again. He hears footsteps above them and Robin and Nancy skid into the hall. They’re both breathing hard, and Nancy has a smudge of some sort of Upside Down goo on her forehead, but Eddie thinks this might be the most attracted he has ever been to a woman.

“We gotta go,” Nancy gasps. “Can you guys walk?”

Eddie’s head lolls weakly. “Better hurry, Wheeler. The fuckin’ house staked me like a vamp or something. Harrington hit his head.”

A look passes between the two girls before Robin steps to Steve, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “If you puke on me, I will never forgive you,” she warns him. Nancy does the same for Eddie, careful not to touch his left arm, which hangs crookedly at his side.

“We have to hurry. Something happened with the vines to make them back off, but I don’t know how long it’ll last. Is the closest gate still the trailer?” Nancy says breathlessly. Eddie nods.

Once they’re out the door, they pause for a moment. The ground is littered with dead bats, some of them still twitching. No one says anything.

“Much as I would love to take credit, that definitely was not me,” Eddie jokes, though it falls a little flat when he hisses in pain.

“Vecna’s gone. He should’ve fallen right here,” Robin despairs. “Why isn’t he here?”

“We’ll figure it out later. Eddie needs a doctor NOW,” Nancy huffs. “Steve, too.”

They keep moving. Steve only pukes twice along the way and is saved from losing Robin as a best friend by hitting Eddie instead. Luckily, all their clothes are pretty much trash at this point, so Eddie chooses to ignore that.

“Why’d you come back, Eddie? Coulda got hurt bad,” Steve grunts.

“Let’s just get back to the real world before we give him the third degree, babe.” Robin glances at Eddie as she says this, something unspoken passing between them, and Eddie knows that she knows.

When they finally make it to the trailer park, Nancy is the first to spot a crumpled figure on the ground.

“Dustin?” Eddie cries. The figure moves, and Dustin lets out the most heart-wrenching sob Eddie has ever heard.

“I thought you died, Eddie! You just left me and I thought those bats ate you and-“ He chokes off with another sob.

“Dustin, can you walk?” Robin calls. He nods and pushes himself up, dragging one leg awkwardly behind him and swiping at his tear-stained face. Guilt collects like a stone in Eddie’s stomach.

Their ragtag group limps to the gate. Nancy and Robin lay the wounded men against the wall, and Dustin crawls toward them and wraps his arms around both of them, causing Eddie to let out a sharp sound of pain as Dustin jostles his injured arm.

“How could you do that to me?” he whimpers into Eddie’s chest. Eddie’s heart cracks in two right there.

“I’m so sorry, Henderson,” he whispers. “I just… had a feeling about these guys. That something was wrong. I couldn’t let you put yourself in the path of evil like that, man. This was my quest.”

Dustin’s smile is watery. Eddie leans forward and presses a kiss to his forehead.

“I won’t do that again, I promise.”

“Yeah, ‘cause we’ll both kick your ass, Munson. Wha’ happened to no hero shit?” Steve slurs.

“Shut it, all of you! Eddie, do you think you can climb this?” Nancy and Robin have constructed a teetering tower of tables and chairs under the gate.

Eddie grimaces. “Guess I’ll have to, huh?”

Nancy scales the pile first, dropping gracefully to the floor and hurrying to shove the mattress back into place. Eddie can feel his eyes slipping closed. The fog is back in his brain, telling him to sleep. Someone shakes his shoulder, and pain rockets through his body.

“Eddie? Eddie, come on, we have to go!”

Eddie knows he’s supposed to know that voice, knows he should care, but the fog is pulling him deeper, and his consciousness swims into the black.

~~~

The first thing Eddie registers when he is awake again is a steady beep. It’s obnoxious, and he wonders if his personal hell is just a bunch of annoying and repetitive sounds playing until he loses his marbles. The very next thing he registers is a warm hand with calloused fingers wrapped around his own.

His eyes drift open. It’s a hospital, of course. Nothing else could look so bland and tasteless. Eddie shifts his head and meets the fervent gaze of Steve Harrington.

“Howdy, big boy,” he croaks. “I guess I must be in heaven after all.”

Steve’s eyes slide shut as if he can’t bear to look at him. “Eddie.”

There is too much emotion there; Eddie shies away from the open rawness of it all instinctively.

“Well, what’d I miss? Is Mayfield doing okay? And Henderson, what about him?” Suddenly, the words are rushing and they won’t stop. Eddie hadn’t realized it, but at some point, he had thrown his lot in with all the rest of them.

“Shhh, they’re all fine, everyone’s fine. Max is recovering, but she’s awake and Lucas is always with her. Dustin broke his ankle, but it’ll heal quickly. Everyone has just been waiting for you to wake up.” Steve smiles softly at him. “I’ve been haunting your bedside for a week. The nurses are sick of me.”

“Oh. What about you? Your head, you were bleeding.”

Steve looks baffled. “I had a concussion and I passed out from loss of oxygen, big deal. That is hardly a new experience for me. You were shish-kabobbed, Eddie! Like, they took out part of your intestine. Do you want to explain why you felt the need to run back by yourself, scaring the shit out of Henderson, by the way, and try to save the day?” If his hands hadn’t been occupied, Eddie is sure they would be on his hips.

“You, I mean, I felt…” Eddie trails off. “There was something wrong, okay? I could feel it. I could feel you. I couldn’t leave you and the ladies alone. Something bad was gonna happen.”

“Something bad did happen, Munson,” Steve murmurs gently. His thumb is rubbing soft circles along Eddie’s knuckles. “You almost died. We were barely able to get you back into the real world.”

Eddie flushes. “Look, I can’t explain it. I knew I had to find you, and it was a risk I was willing to take, so it’s really not any of your business.”

“No, no, that’s where you’re wrong. It is my business, actually, because you said my name when you ran in there like freakin’ Rambo. What gives?”

“Fine,” Eddie huffs and rolls his eyes. “I was worried about you, is that what you want to hear? I was worried you might do something stupid and throw yourself on the sword because that’s the kinda person Henderson always says you are. And I didn’t want to, I mean, I couldn’t live with you being… not here,” he finishes lamely.

Steve’s face is unhelpfully blank. He just stares at him, still rubbing those small circles on Eddie’s fingers with his thumb. Eddie shifts uncomfortably, aware of his many bandages and stitches despite the probable load of painkillers he is stuffed with. Then, Steve’s face clears.

“Okay. If I’m reading this wrong, you have about five seconds to stop me, so say something quickly if I’m making a mistake.” Steve shuts his eyes and leans toward Eddie.

The temperature of the room skyrockets in those few seconds. Eddie has just enough time to wonder if someone was brushing his teeth while he was unconscious before Steve Harrington is kissing him.

It isn’t a rough, desperate kiss like so many Eddie has had before. It is slow and sweet and so full of gentleness, as if Eddie is this fragile, precious thing that Steve has sworn to protect. Eddie’s eyes slide shut and he raises his good arm to Steve’s face and brushes a hand lightly across his cheekbone before settling into his silky hair. Steve pulls away and begins to kiss across his cheeks and jaw, showering him with affection.

“Wanted to do this since you threatened to gut me in that stupid boathouse,” he breathes against Eddie’s skin.

“Should’ve done it, Harrington. Would’ve calmed me down a lot faster, I bet.”

Behind them, someone clears their throat. Steve stumbles backward and smacks against a chair that had been set up next to the bed. Eddie tries to roll away and smashes his nose against the side of his bed. Uncle Wayne just stares at the two of them.

“Well, then.” He hobbles quickly to Eddie’s side. “We’re gonna forget for a second that I just saw alla’that and you’re gonna hug me and promise to never disappear on me like that again. Got that, Eds?”

“Yes, sir,” Eddie whispers. When Wayne hugs him, their tears paint each other’s shoulders with salt and bittersweet joy.

“Now, I’m gonna go out in the hall again and get some coffee, and when I get back you and me are havin’ a chat, Harrington.” Wayne swipes at his eyes before meandering back out into the hall.

Steve grabs Eddie’s hand again as soon as Wayne is out the door as if he can’t bear to not be touching some part of him. Eddie grins at him.

“Oooh, you are in trouble, Stevie. He’s never gotten to threaten any of my boyfriends with death by shotgun if they didn’t treat me right before. He’s gonna be very theatrical about it, I can tell.”

The other man looks a little worried but shakes it off and turns back to Eddie. “I can handle it. Now, I believe we were in the middle of something?”

“You know what, I think we were.” Eddie grabs a handful of that famous Harrington hair and pulls him down to the bed. Their lips meet again, and this kiss only stops when Wayne knocks on the door to the room to loudly announce his entrance. Steve sits back in his chair, still holding Eddie’s hand, with a smile so bright it could rival the sun.

~~~

As always, if I tag you in error or you'd like to be removed from the permanent list, let me know in the comments and I'll take you off no hard feelings!

Permanent Steddie tag list: @brassreign @inmoonywetrust @kyoxyukiforever @spectrum-spectre @vampireinthesun @luna-munson83 @awkwardgravity1 @obsessivlyme @piningapple @steddieassheg0es @gay-stranger-things @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #dustin henderson #henderfam #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #eddie is a self-sacrificing little shit #steve harrington hits his head again #st4 #fix it fic #lets all just assume eddie is cleared of all charges at the end cause i was too lazy to write an explanation #hopefully this is good i have a headache today #tw vomit #tw blood

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matrixonvhsanddvd · 11 months

Text

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

#submission

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glowingbadger · 1 year

Text

Guys I basically hate everything I'm making right now, drawing, writing, etc. and it's all taking a million years to make just to be disappointed with the results SO I'm taking an indulgent and stupid break to spit out my thoughts about the FE3H lads' vices of choice (in terms of what they may imbibe to take the edge off). Also I'm tired and doing this super off-the-cuff, so if I forget someone or my takes are shit or w/e... i dunno, mea culpa I guess.

big ol' TW for drug & alcohol use so skip this one if you don't vibe with booze and/or smoking of various types (nothing too hard tho lmao no one's shooting up or anything on this post). As a disclaimer since this whole post might make me seem super pro-drugs lmao: I am into having your vices and letting them help get you through the day to a healthy and controlled extent.

Also, I guess this is sort of modern au?? FE3H's setting is wildly anachronistic, but I'm pretty sure they wouldn't have things like modern cigarettes, or edibles as we know them. Just. Roll with it ig.

Honestly this was inspired by a guy I used to hook up with before I met my husband who smoked and because of him I briefly developed a pavlovian response where I'd become aroused by the scent of cigarettes so shout-out to you, Dan- hope you're doing good somewhere you dumb, handsome bastard

Vices:

Linhardt- he's open to a lot, as a naturally curious type, but he's particularly fond of hookah. He finds the experience meditative and calming, and it's honestly best if someone keeps an eye out and makes sure he doesn't fall asleep with the coals still burning. But having a pipe in hand while reading on a quiet evening is just unmatched.

Hubert- obviously his canon vice is coffee, which he naturally takes black (at most, perhaps a splash of milk). That said, while he doesn't have an addictive streak, he will have a cigarette here and there when the stress is getting to him and he needs to stay focused. Other than that, he of course will partake in wine when it's expected of him at events, but he doesn't overly enjoy it.

Ferdinand- he enjoys wine both as a social experience, and as a true connoisseur; he's constantly scouting out which sellers have gotten ahold of something rare and exotic, and has no compunctions about paying a good deal of money for a valuable bottle. However, he dramatically overestimates his own alcohol tolerance.

Caspar- pretty much lives completely clean, unless food and over-exercise can be considered vices (which many would say they could). He tried Lin's hookah once and he coughed so much that he wrote off smoking across the board. Totally doesn't get things like "acquired tastes" when it comes to drinks, either- why bother with something you don't like right off the bat?

Dimitri- as a function of growing up at the height of society, he's of course expected to drink socially and know just enough about fine wines and liquors to serve appropriately high-quality drink to guests and dignitaries. However, he's a very dramatic and sad drunk, on the rare occasions he lets himself get that far. Frankly, he should probably just try weed.

Felix- he keeps his vices pretty under control, as lack of control makes him feel on-edge. Similar to Caspar, his 'vice' is more about drowning his anxieties in training and exercise. That said, he'll sometimes nurse a cigarette for a while, mostly to keep his mouth and hands busy- it's a fidgeting habit more than anything.

Sylvain- he's made a conscious effort to familiarize himself with and build a tolerance to just about anything that's consumed socially. Passing a joint, pouring a drink, taking shots, anything that adds to that socially-acceptable party vibes, he's ready to jump on-board. Left to his own preferences though, he likes a good whiskey, but like, the softer, smoother ones that go down easy.

Ashe- he doesn't look it, but having grown up in a rough situation and having to rub elbows with some unsavory types, he does have a respectable tolerance for most of your standard substances- though he's mostly only ever taken them to be "polite." But he knows his body and knows to keep alert.

Dedue- can appreciate coffee, but is potently aware of the disadvantages of caffeine addiction, so he keeps it moderate. He can also appreciate hookah, and similarly to Linhardt, finds it to be a soothing and calm activity that doesn't impair his judgement or cognition significantly.

Claude- pretty open minded overall, and is in support of indulging in moderate hedonism as long as it never puts you at a disadvantage. His preferred indulgence is weed, and in particular, he can really enjoy a well made edible. He's very picky about who he imbibes with, however- he doesn't trust just anyone while he may be in a slightly compromised state and more likely to say something he otherwise wouldn't.

Lorenz- he's as much a wine aficionado as any true noble would be, of course, and has memorized all the usual talking-points thereof. He considers it distasteful to become visibly inebriated, however. He also definitely owns a collection of elaborate and expensive tobacco pipes that have almost never been used.

Ignatz- he's fairly clean, and will nurse a single drink throughout an evening in social settings. He's heard that many famous artists have found inspiration in "broadening their minds," but he finds the loss of control intimidating. To be honest though, he also should probably try weed, this is a man with an anxiety disorder if I ever saw one.

Raphael- probably hasn't had many opportunities to get extremely experimental, but he does absolutely love a good beer or ale (or several beers or ales), preferably alongside a hearty meal or vast array of snacks. He considers it just part of enjoying a feast, a perfect accent to the food.

Jeralt- his love of booze is canon, of course, but he is generally open minded about such things and is willing to partake in whatever takes the edge off after a big job. He has decent tolerance, but has a habit of ignoring when he might be pushing a little too far, basically willfully ignoring his own limits.

Seteth- canonically, Nabateans have high alcohol tolerance (if Seteth's mention of it to Manuela is anything to go off of), so I imagine this extends to most foreign substances. That said, he does enjoy the earthy flavor of a well-worn tobacco pipe, and will sometimes unwind with it after a long work day.

Also on a personal note, modern au Seteth in a business suit smoking a cigarette makes horny brain go brrrrrrrrrr

Jeritza- he stays totally clean, as he deeply dislikes the sensation of losing control. He lives with the constant shadow of the thought that any lapse will trigger the Death Knight, and knows he can't risk such a thing outside of the battlefield.

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ohnococo · 3 months

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Do you think any of the jjk peeps would be turned off by smokers (cigarettes or weed lol) I think Gojo would tolerate it from friends but not any partners, Ichiji would be constantly concerned by health, shoko would be stealing your cigs to smoke herself and Mei Mei is encouraging it so she can get your assets when you die lol

I think you’re spot on with who you’ve mentioned so far, the Mei Mei one sent me lmao “yes why don’t you go take a little drive and have a cigarette to clear your head… oh? It’s raining? You’ll have to keep the windows up then…” I’m picturing her out here like 😏 every time you light up.

I think Nanami would be bothered as well, if he’s close to you he’ll let you know how he feels about it more than once, otherwise he’s just removing himself from the situation by excusing himself and walking away if you smoke a cigarette around him, even if it’s the middle of a conversation. He kind of thinks it’s inconsiderate.

Shoko is actually bothered, giving you shit about how it’s bad for your health, and how you’re just exhausting because now she has to heal your lungs because they are getting damaged even if you’re not in the midst of realising a few flights of stairs will take you out thanks to your habit. Like you said, she’ll be swiping your cigs to give you less to have when you aren’t with her. Doesn’t stop her from secretly enjoying when you do take a smoke break with her though…

The younger folks aren’t subtle at all with their disdain for the habit. Nobara will loudly cough and hack any time you light up a cigarette, Yuuji will join in for a second before politely asking you to stop for your health (Nobara doesn’t ask so politely).

Choso simply doesn’t understand why you’d do it if it’s bad for you, it actually gets him a little panicked once he learns just how awful they are. He’ll be slapping them out of your hands, or throwing your pack in a pond, begging you to stop. It’s a little dramatic (it’s a LOT dramatic, he will cry).

As for weed I tend to treat attitudes towards it as being a lot more like where I’m from rather than more realistic to how it might be in Japan (meaning, I hc characters as treating it more casually)

That being said, the main person that sticks out to me as having a problem with it is Todo. He looks down on anyone taking any drugs, giving you some speech about how only the weak need to alter their minds or something. He will outright fight Yuuji if he finds out he’s smoked anything at all. (Though his attitude might change after he has an edible for the first time lol man is ZOOTED and loving life)

#cococs #my writing #jjk headcanons #💛 asks #💛 anon

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skepticalarrie · 2 years

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Hi Allie!

Can I have your opinion on something? Louis talked about him wanting to legalize weed in the UK since he loves weed. But isn't anyone kinda worried about the fact that he loves weed so much and that he uses it? I mean, it's still drugs....you know and it could seriously harm him. I kinda get the feeling he uses it A LOT. He indeed is a grown man, but still....it worries me that people think it's cool to do a lot of weed.

Also, do you get the feeling that when Louis has real kids of his own with Harry that he will get them hooked on drugs and alcohol as well bc he is that 'cool dad'? Because to me it kind of seems like Louis will be that type of dad......

No, weed is great.

Hi, anon! Sometimes it bothers me when people pick on them because of cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, etc. It doesn't mean just because they're public people that their habits and their bodies need to become everyone's business. I totally understand the concern for their health, but I think that a lot of what you said there is just *so personal*, so many assumptions, the part of them as parents, like.. that's a huge no for me. I think it really crosses the line of what fans should be about.

Please, don't get me wrong, drug abuse and addiction is a massive concern, especially when combined with mental health issues and genetics, so I'm not trying to diminish it. I just think it's a dangerous game to be played, especially if there's a possibility of something really to be happening on that front, fans excessively talking about it would only aggravate things, it's no help.

With that being said, Louis smoking too much weed would be the very least of my concerns. For a number of reasons: First, he seems an extremely functional human being, very competent in his job, extremely well-spoken and down to earth, with a very hectic schedule that he seems to have no problem keeping up with... I'm not a specialist, but from my understanding, weed is a big issue when the person stops being functional, and depends on it to do very basic activities. And honestly, Louis very rarely even seems high... never on stage, never in interviews. I think it really works for him because it's probably a way of calming down a bit and getting out of very intense and stressful situations that people with jobs like his often see themselves in. Not to mention the creativity.

And lastly, alcohol is so much worse than weed. Cigarettes are so much worse... please. And as a famous person with a lot of money, I guarantee you he's often surrounded by drugs that are much worse and more dangerous than that. Weed is actually good for a lot of stuff. If you're curious about it, I suggest a bit of research on the topic for more technical details. I don't do weed myself, I get sick, but I'm totally with Louis and I think weed needs to be legalized. When it comes to other drugs, though, it's an entirely different discussion... which, like I said, I'm not really interested in getting too much into it.

#ask #tw drugs #cw drugs #louis x drugs

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bisexualnathanyoung · 2 years

Text

What If I’m Just Like Him?

Pairing: Nathan Young/OC (Mel Albright)

Word Count: 1,495

Warnings: pregnancy, panic attack, self-doubt, deadbeat dad references

Formatting is bad because tumblr is bad. Lots of dialogue.

“You’re lucky I love you,” I said to the baby growing inside me, “dancin’ on my bladder n shit.”

I sat up and glanced at the clock. 1:43. Then, I noticed Nathan wasn’t in bed. God I hope he’s not taking a shit. I’m about to piss my pants.

I made it to the toilet, and Nathan wasn’t in there. After a piss and a grunt and a handwashing, I walked in the kitchen. He wasn’t there either.

After shoving some biscuits in my mouth, I glanced out the window on the door and saw him. He was sitting on the ground, smoking a cigarette.

I opened the door. He looked up at me and waved the smoke in the air. He put out the cigarette on the ground.

“Don’t breathe that,” he said.

I looked down at him, “What are you doing out here? It’s cold.”

He shrugged, “y’know. Nicotine addiction.” I could tell it was more than just a midnight smoke.

“Come inside,” I said and bent over the ruffle his hair.

“Careful bendin’ over like that,” he said as he got up. I walked in the flat. He followed me and closed the door behind him.

I sat on the sofa and patted on the seat next to me.

Nathan sat down, “you should go back to bed, you’ve got work in the morning.”

I put my arm around him, “I’ve got work in like… eleven hours. That’s not morning. I’ll be fine.”

He laid his head on my shoulder, “we should really just… go back to bed.”

“I can tell something’s bothering you,” I said as I rubbed his arm.

“I’m fine, love,” he said without looking at me, “swear. You’ve got enough to worry about.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you,” I said and kissed his head.

He placed his hand on my bump and rubbed it, “I’m so excited for our baby.”

He kissed my belly then sat up next to me again, “really. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. I’m good. Our baby’s healthy. You’re healthy. Everything’s really good.”

I held his hand, “did I do something wrong?” I was almost certain I didn’t, but sometimes that was the only way to get him to open up. I knew we were both scared shitless about being parents and about all of the changes that were happening all at once, but I didn’t know if something specific had happened.

I just wanted to know. I wanted to fix it. Or at least tell him that it was okay to be upset.

He shook his head in a slight panic, “no no no no, I don’t think you’re capable of doing anything wrong.”

He pulled me closer to him and rested his hand on my bump, absentmindedly rubbing it.

“Well, that’s certainly not true,” I responded with a small laugh.

We sat there for a minute. I decided not to interrogate him into telling me what was wrong.

“Do you think I’m gonna be a good dad?” He said finally. Softly. Ah. I’d told him a million times before that I did, but it was worth it to tell him again.

“You’re already a good dad,” I said with a smile.

He made a noise, “How?”

“Always looking out for me. Always being there. Being responsible,” I responded, looking in his eyes.

He shrugged, “I’m not responsible.” Maybe that was true a year ago. Maybe that was still true in some ways, but he’d shown me he could be.

“Yes, you are,” I said. I felt the need to stick up for him even if it was to himself, “you helped me throw out all of the weed in the house. You got a job. You’ve supported me every step a this pregnancy. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. You were scared that the baby would get taken away the second it was born if we had stuff in the house. We didn’t have any money. I didn’t have a choice. That doesn’t mean I’m responsible,” he said, leaning against me again, not looking at me.

I sighed. Then, he looked at me.

“You could’ve left,” I said simply.

He looked away again, “that’s what scares me.” I was… kind of confused, but I tried not to react until I got more clarity.

“What d’you mean, love?” I said as I rubbed his back.

“My- They… forget it. I’m here for you and the baby. That’s all that matters,” I saw him try to discreetly wipe his eye. He tried to stand up, and I grabbed his wrist.

“Nathan,” I said in a more serious tone than I usually had, “Talk to me.”

He sat back down, sighed, and ran his hands through his hair.

He let out a breath, “My dad was there until he wasn’t.”

I held his hand, “hmm?”

He didn’t look at me and sounded like he was about to cry, “what if I make the wrong decision?”

And that made my anxiety spike. I knew he wanted the baby. I knew he wasn’t going to leave or did I?

“What do you mean wrong decision?” I asked and rubbed his hand.

“What if he wanted me and changed his mind?” I watched as he ignored the tears that fell, “what if I’m just like him? What if I change my mind?” His words and his breathing sped up as he continued to talk, “I’m just a fucking arsehole under it all. What if that to my kids? What if I let you down? Both of you? I don’t wanna be that! I don’t wanna be that!”

I continued to rub his hand, “you need to breathe, love. Try to breathe.”

He steadied his breathing a little bit, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry. I’m not trying to scare you… I’m not gonna leave… I’m not gonna leave… every time my mum was mad at me, she’d say I was just like him. She still doesn’t know… fuck, she’s going to be so disappointed,” he let go of my hand to run his hands through his hair, “She’s gonna say she knew it’d happen. She’s gonna say I’m gonna be a shit dad just like him. She’s gonna tell me off and say how could I do this.” He was breathing fast again. I wasn’t sure how to get him to calm down.

“It’s gonna be okay,” I said.

“My chest hurts, why does my chest hurt? Am I dying? I feel like I’m dying, and I’ve died before so I know what it feels like. You hate it when I die. I’m sorry for dying,” he said quickly.

“I think you’re having a panic attack,” I said, “you just need to calm down. You’re going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“What’s that?” he said, “I don’t do that.”

I tried to get him to breathe with me and do some grounding exercises.

——

“What’s indigo? Isn’t that just blue? I already found something blue,” he said. The important thing was that he’d calmed down some.

“You can just skip to purple,” I said.

“Blanket,” he said lifting it up.

“Do you feel any better now?” I asked.

He set his head on my shoulder, “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” I responded, “it’s okay to not know.”

“But I need to be okay,” he replied, “I need to be okay for you.”

I put my arm around him, “you just need to be you. You’re allowed to be scared.”

“Maybe I should just call my dad,” he said, “so he can tell me he never wanted me. I need to know. Because I want our baby more than anything in this world, and I just don’t understand how he could leave. Maybe I was just too much trouble. He sent money… sometimes. He just didn’t want to deal with me. I wasn’t worth it. He expected Mum to do everything, but I don't want to be like that. I want to be a good dad. I want to be a good husband. But what if I can’t be? Because I’m mean and stupid and selfish and lazy, and what if one day I just walk out the fucking door because I’m a fucking idiot?!”

I held him close to me, “shh. Everyone has choices. Everyone makes mistakes. Things are going to be stressful and scary, but they’re also going to be beautiful and fun and wild. You’re not your dad, and you’re never going to be. You’re you, and you make your own choices. If you don’t want to leave then don’t. Maybe you’ve done less than savory things, we all have, but you’re also sweet and gentle and soft. You care so much. You think you don't, but you do. I’m glad you’re the person I’m starting a family with. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said. He smiled at me and kissed me, “I really do.”

#idk what to tag this as #tumblr already fucked my formatting so it’s even lazier this time #just wanted to post this before I start my job tomorrow #I’m so tired #nathan young #nathan young fluff #nathan young x oc #misfits fanfiction #oc; melanie albright

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wicked-d00d · 1 year

Text

Dizzy leaves the lecture hall with her backpack on her shoulders. As she walks down the hallway, she passes by other students who seem more engaged in their classes than she is.

"Everyone else looks so focused. Why am I like this? What happened to my brain?"

Dizzy enters an empty bathroom stall where she lights up a joint. She takes several deep breaths as she exhales smoke into the air. "I've been smoking weed since I was 12 years old," says Dizzy. "It helps me focus."

She then goes outside for some fresh air before returning to school. On her way out of the building, she sees another student lighting up a cigarette. The two exchange nods and smile at each other.

After getting home, Dizzy sits down at her desk and opens her laptop. She pulls up her online coursework and begins studying.

“Why did I even bother coming to college?” wonders Dizzy. “I don’t want to learn anything! All I care about is getting high and having fun!"

Dizzy closes her computer and puts away her books. She grabs her phone and starts scrolling through social media posts.

“Look at how much fun everyone else is having without me,” laments Dizzy. “They’re partying all night while I sit here alone.”

Dizzy gets up off the couch and heads over to her bedroom window. She gazes out onto the street below and watches people walking around town.

“What do they have that I don’t?” asks Dizzy. “How come they can go out there and enjoy life but not me?”

Dizzy returns to her room and lies down on her bed. She rolls herself a joint and lights it up.

“This is what I live for!” exclaims Dizzy. “Weed makes everything better!”

Dizzy continues rolling joint after joint until she falls asleep.

She wakes up late the next morning. Her roommate knocks on the door and tells her that she needs to get ready because they are going to miss class if they don’t hurry.

“You know you should stop doing drugs,” says Dizzy’s roommate. “Your parents would kill you if they knew you were using marijuana every day.”

Dizzy ignores her roommate and continues rolling joints. After finishing one last joint, she stands up and heads towards the shower.

“I guess I could try to quit tomorrow,” thinks Dizzy. “But today isn’t tomorrow yet…”

Dizzy finishes taking a shower and dries off. She puts on her clothes and heads out the front door.

“Maybe I will just skip class today,” muses Dizzy. “I mean, why waste time learning when I already know everything anyway?”

Dizzy arrives at campus and decides to head straight to the library instead of attending any classes. Once inside, she finds a seat near the windows and turns on her laptop.

“Now let’s see what happens when I look up "Guilty Gear" on tumblr...”

Dizzy scrolls through various images and videos related to Guilty Gear. She comes across a blog called @gear-project, which contains information about the characters and storyline of the games.

“Wow, these guys really love Guilty Gear,” observes Dizzy. “And they actually put together a lot of cool stuff too.”

As Dizzy reads through the articles, she learns many interesting facts about the world of Guilty Gear, including herself. She was surprised to learn that she hatched from an egg.

“That explains why I always feel like I’m missing something,” remarks Dizzy. “I wonder what I looked like before I grew feathers and wings?”

Dizzy spends hours reading through the website. When she finally feels satisfied, she logs off and shuts down her computer.

Dizzy heads back to her dorm room and prepares dinner. While eating, she receives a text message from her friend asking her to hangout later tonight.

“Sure thing,” replies Dizzy. “Just give me a few minutes to take a nap first.”

Dizzy smokes a bowl and falls asleep shortly afterwards.

“Alright, let’s go find our favorite DJ!” proclaims Dizzy. “He’ll play us the best music ever!”

Dizzy leads her friends through the crowd and eventually locates the entrance to the dance floor.

“Here we go!” cheers Dizzy. “Party time!”

The group of friends enter the club and begin dancing along to the music. They drink alcohol and smoke cigarettes throughout the evening. At midnight, Dizzy and her friends leave the club and walk back to their cars.

“Let’s meet up again next week,” suggests Dizzy. “I think I might have found a new place to party.”

Dizzy drives home and parks her car in the garage. She locks the doors behind her and heads upstairs to her bedroom.

“Time to relax and unwind,” declares Dizzy. “Tomorrow is another day.”

Dizzy turns on her television and flips through channels until she reaches the news station. A report catches her attention.

“Oh no,” gasps Dizzy.

A picture appears on screen showing a man being charged with possession of illegal substances. He is identified as Johnny Gears, a well known drug dealer in the area.

“Johnny Gears is dead,” announces the anchorwoman. “Police say he died during a shootout with officers earlier this afternoon.”

Dizzy jumps up from her chair and runs over to the TV set.

“No, please tell me it wasn’t him!” pleads Dizzy. “Please tell me he didn’t die!”

Dizzy paces back and forth in her living room. She tries calling his number multiple times but keeps receiving voicemail messages.

“Where are you Johnny?” screams Dizzy. “Don’t leave me! Please answer your phone!”

Dizzy throws her cellphone against the wall and collapses onto the ground. Tears stream down her face as she mourns the loss of her beloved supplier.

“My only source of supply is gone forever,” moans Dizzy. “There must be someone else out there somewhere. But who? Where? How?”

Dizzy remains on the floor crying for hours. Eventually, she calms down enough to stand up and turn off the television.

“I guess I’d better start looking for a new supplier,” reasons Dizzy. “At least I still have my job to fall back on.”

The next day Dizzy woke up and rolled another joint before heading to her shift at McDonalds

Dizzy walks into work and clocks in for her shift, high as usual. As usual, she greets her coworkers by saying hello.

“Hey Dizzy,” says one of them. “Didn’t you hear? Your boss fired you yesterday.”

“WHAT?!” yells Dizzy. “NO WAY!! WHY???”

Dizzy rushes outside and calls her manager.

“Hello?” answers the voice on the other end.

“Hi Mr. Johnson,” says Dizzy. “It’s me, Dizzy. What happened? Why am I no longer employed?”

Mr. Johnson sighs heavily before answering.

“Dizzy, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for some time now," begins Mr. Johnson. "Unfortunately, I had to fire you due to excessive tardiness."

“Tardiness? That’s ridiculous!” argues Dizzy. “I never showed up late once since I started working here!”

“Yes, but you also missed more than half of your scheduled shifts,” responds Mr. Johnson. “And you smell like you've been smoking weed.

“Smelling like weed doesn’t make me late,” retorts Dizzy. “Besides, how did you even notice? You hardly pay attention to anything around here!"

“Look, Dizzy,” says Mr. Johnson. “I understand that you may need help dealing with certain issues in your personal life. However, I cannot allow you to continue coming to work while under the influence of narcotics or alcohol. It simply isn’t safe for anyone involved.”

“Fine then,” agrees Dizzy. “If you aren’t willing to accept me for who I am, then I guess I’ll just have to move on without you.”

Dizzy leaves the restaurant and heads toward her house. On the way, she passes by a convenience store where she buys snacks and sodas.

Once home, Dizzy takes a long bath and relaxes in the tub. She gets high and enjoys listening to music and watching movies all night. The following morning, Dizzy awakens feeling refreshed and energized.

“Okay, so I lost my job,” reflects Dizzy. “But I still have plenty of money left in my bank account. And I can get more whenever I want if I keep doing what I do best.”

Dizzy rolls another joint and lights it up. She continues smoking marijuana throughout the rest of the day and falls asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning, ready for her next adventure.

#guilty gear #low effort content

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graftisms · 1 year

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CALLIE & ANGEL — DAY TWENTY-EIGHT

location : evening / post-challenge / smoking area

featuring : @dobits

CALLIE

rarely does she smoke cigarettes, but without any weed to be found (or given to her), it's as good as it's going to get. one of romi's stolen cigs is in one hand, the other tries unsuccessfully to use the lighter she had borrowed from one of the producers, to no avail. even she can't get a bloody spark from a lighter--figures. eyes look up as angel comes over, waving once at him before tossing the lighter his way with a, "think fast. can you get this thing to work for me, please? i'm ready to throw it."

ANGEL

"shit, with that kinda fast ball, you really belong in the u.s. ... hm, yeah, your fuel release is fucked," he mumbles around the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, brow furrowed as he inspects the lighter. he peels the silver bit around where the flame should come out, leaving the nozzle bare. the flame burns big and bright now. he uses it on his own cig before tossing it back to her. "lighter for your thoughts?"

CALLIE

"is that a baseball joke?" never much cared for the sport, though it's better than american football. eyes narrow a little as she watches what he does for next time, letting out an audible sigh of relief when the damned thing lights. "thank you," she groans, lighting her own before tossing it back in her pocket. the first drag of a cigarette is always the best, relishing in it for a moment before shaking her head at him. "wishing i had a joint," she says, taking another drag. "sorry if i made shit awkward earlier with naomi. or earlier, with jenny. or in general, i guess. it's been a day."

ANGEL

"nah, ping pong," he deadpans for a good moment before breaking out in an inevitable grin. enjoying his own drag, lets the tobacco give him the head rush. callie apologizing brings him right out of it. "oh -- nah, stop. don't apologize, you're all good. i get it." a pause, a sheepish smile. "well, kinda. i mean, i get you were just being protective of your brother and shit. i can respect that. but i think there's also, like...," a gesture to her, "a lot of stuff i'm missing. had no idea you were such a problem, cal." another deadpan, he peeks at her from his peripheral, barely suppressing a smile.

CALLIE

callie stifles a laugh, only realizing afterwards that it was pointless. "you're funny," she tells him, like she's only just figuring it out. maybe it's just dawning on her now. lips press together lightly at the mention of her brother, the only confirmation needed that she came off like an ass. even if naomi isn't her favorite person at the moment, she feels bad being a giant cockblock for her. a little bit. she glances over at him for a moment, not bothering to hide her smile. "only started today, actually," she admits, turning back to face the rest of the villa. "maybe if the show knew i'd be more fun without my brother, they never would've sent him." as if dylan's the issue, though she does feel his presence lost.

ANGEL

literally can't help his gaze falling to the ground at her compliment. the way she hands them out so sparingly, how could anyone blame him? angels ashes the cigarette, procrastinates taking another hit. "and to think twelve hours ago i thought you were adorable," clicks his tongue against his teeth, shakes his head. "now i know you're really a little badass instigator." hi pot, meet kettle. a light laugh, he keeps shaking his head at that. "aw, stop, this isn't fun-callie. hey, no worries, it'll all be better in the morning."

CALLIE

the reminder of being called adorable makes her scoff again, shaking her head. "told you i wasn't." god, what a stupid word. "i'm fine," she assures him, repositioning herself so she's facing him better. "i'll be more fun tomorrow, watch. the only instigating i'll do is trying to get everyone drunk and having fun." she means it too, flashing a smile. "how are you feeling? first day, basically in the books. on a scale of one to ten, how bad was it?"

ANGEL

"no, you definitely still are," he nods, taking another drag. half just desperate to wind her up a little bit. "cool, good. i'm team callie either way." but he really does believe her, just as eager to latch on to the optimism despite the fact he knows that's not the point of a reality show. "honestly? i'm kinda having the best day," a laugh, he shrugs his cigarette-lined hand. "sorry, i know it's been shit for you. i dunno, it's been fun. beautiful place, beautiful people. everyone's been... way cooler and more real than i kinda expected. yeah, i'm chillin'."

CALLIE

"oh please," she snorts, unable to help herself. "you're more adorable than i am. i used to call my brother the human golden retriever, but you might have him beat." he's always smiling, it feels like. then again, maybe she's just more aware of it than usual, when she's had a questionable day. strangely enough, this makes her miss elvis, her own golden. "no, i'm glad to hear that," she says genuinely, letting out a laugh. "i was afraid we've been shit company all day. but, good. it's kinda funny seeing people start to fall into couples already, right? like..." she motions to jenny and dante, talking somewhere. "and..." she finds romi and jude next, motioning towards them. "though that one i don't get."

ANGEL

"oh, don't you call me adorable," he argues, scrunching his nose. not now that she considers it such a slur. "oh my god," angel sticks the cigarette in the corner of his mouth so he can count off on his fingers, "adorable, a dog, your brother. where's the camera so i can look into it like the office?" that must be the trifecta of what you don't wanna hear from a girl. he takes his lumps with a smirk though, eternally light hearted even through his haughty sigh. eyes follow her gesture around the villa. "came hard and fast, huh?" he agrees with a nod towards jude. "he's really into them, to be fair. the way he talked about romi to me? cute as fuck. i don't know the guy that well, but, i dunno, it seemed to surprise even him kinda." a lingering pause. "you think it's mutual?"

CALLIE

she doesn't realize what she's said until he's pointing it out to her by the fingers, cigarette nearly falling out of her mouth from laughing so abruptly. "god, no!" she shakes her head, cheeks reddening a little. "that's not what i meant. crikey, uh. i've had a lot to drink tonight, in case that wasn't clear." she's still grinning, finding it both funny and embarrassing at the same time. "i have a golden retriever back home, too," she admits after a second, before making herself laugh all over. "sorry, sorry!" lips have to press together to stop herself, though talking about jude does sober the mood. "is he? i kinda thought him and jenny were into each other." obviously, since she called them out earlier. "i think... it could be mutual," she admits, grimacing. "i know romi wants to sleep outside tonight, so she doesn't feel like she has to choose between anyone yet. i'll probably go outside with her, unless jude joins her. i think she definitely likes him the most, but she's been through a lot recently. i don't know if she wants really intense right now."

ANGEL

"shut the fuck up," he chides her grinning ear to ear, entirely unable to contain his own laughter when she's in a fit of it. smoke slots between his two fingers, he points them at her. "you are such a problem, i can't believe it you're fucking doubling down. i'm not golden retriever energy!" it's a nice difference from the frowny, distracted callie he's stumbled across a minute ago, even if it's at his expense. "if your golden's name is angel, i'm out. i'm leaving the villa." it's still funny to see callie cringe over jude, who, frankly, angel's a big fan of. finds the dude hilarious. "i mean, i think jenny's into jude," he shrugs, never really heard jude mention the blonde much and typically it's her draped all over him. "oh, for real? i thought for sure she was gonna be in his bed. that's kinda crazy, i feel like she's pretty much chosen already. but, yeah, that's fair. he definitely gives intense." yeah, if jude's the guy angel imagines, there's no way some little rule is gonna keep him from sneaking out to romi. in fact, he could see the producers egging that on. "so where else were you gonna go?"

CALLIE

his goading her only keeps her laughing, hand covering her mouth for a few seconds as she attempts to stop. "you kinda are," she giggles, putting out her cigarette before leaning back. "it's not a bad thing. you just seem, like, constantly in a good mood. always smiling. it's nice," she offers, in case that wasn't clear. "we needed more people around here like that, it was getting a little too..." testosterone-y, she wants to say, but not really the best thing to say to a dude, "--serious," she settles on instead. "no," callie smiles at the thought of her pup, "his name is elvis. he's an angel, though. he's my baby." saying that jenny's into jude is valid; callie is kind of assuming she's gonna shoot her shot with all the guys here, after her and josh are apparently on the outs. "yeah, that's what i said," she shrugs, not really getting romi's logic either. "maybe it's more than that, but that's what she tells me. and i don't want her to sleep outside alone. otherwise my plan was to just hog the bed with my name on it, and whichever bombshell wanted to join me could go crazy. it's just a place to crash." she raises her eyebrows. "why, know where you're sleeping yet?"

ANGEL

"well, who knows? i can get pissed off and serious and stuff." toe of his shoe scuffs the ground, he flicks his thumb bashfully against the cigarette's filter. the very picture of someone who doesn't get pissed off. angel dissolves into a smile. "yeah, i dunno. it's easy for me to let shit roll off my back, i guess. plus i haven't really had a reason to be in anything but a good mood." he gestures at her again. "minus you basically saying i'm like your brother." he sucks his cigarette to the filter and smashes it into the ashtray. "wait, that's so cute. presley or costello?" arms fold over his chest, head tilting curiously at callie's insight to the jude/romi thing. "nah, yeah, i get that. maybe she's just trying to take it easy. nobody wants to be mugged off." a shrug, relatable content. "wait -- whichever bombshell?" brow arches, surprised, didn't think she'd ever put herself in a situation where she'd share a bed. "well, what if jude decides to get in your bed? or stella?" or charlene or angel. sure, it's just a place to crash, but you're still sharing space with the person. tight smile presses onto his lips, innocent and evasive. "yeah, i'm sleeping on the bed with my name on it."

CALLIE

taking a deep breath, she's finally calmed herself down from the giggles, though the smile has yet to leave her cheeks. "no, it's a good thing," she agrees, nodding. "i swear, i'm usually the same. it's so much easier being here if you don't let every little thing get to you, seriously." she really had been doing so well, often resorting to the in-villa therapist when dylan or a friend needed somewhere to vent. she much refers that to the hot mess that reared its ugly head today. "okay, i did not mean it like that," she rolls her eyes, feeling herself flush. "i like you, for the record. not like my brother, crikey." suddenly she wishes she didn't put that cigarette out yet, so she had something to do with her hands. "presley." eyes light up at the reference. "he's one of my favorites, my grandmum had him always playing growing up. that and, like, the beach boys." eyebrows arch over towards him. "why do you say it like that?" she fights off a smirk, shaking her head. "well i didn't think jude would try to sleep with me, but otherwise i don't really care. i sleep like a rock anyway. and no offense, but it was my bed first," she defends, lips curling. assumes he's mocking her since the beds don't actually have names. "yeah, which one is that?"

ANGEL

head bobs, understanding. "yeah, this place was kinda made for all the little stuff to be blown out of proportion, right? even to the coolest of cucumbers." amplifying to a global audience is the whole point. a cheeky smile peeks through. "so, what, you're usually all zen sunshine and sweetness?" only a touch of sarcasm. "i dunno, the whole li'l snappy badass thing kinda suits you too well." head ducks a bit, the alcohol and her words bringing his own blush. annoying. "crikey," angel repeats with fond amusement, distracting himself. the word adorable hangs so clearly in the air he doesn't feel the need to say it aloud. "wait, your faves are elvis and the beach boys? that's like... so insanely california, c'mon now. nah, yeah, the beach boys are my shit. all the beach rock stuff is good vibes." light scoff escapes him, lifting his shoulder in a shrug like it should be obvious. "i dunno, i'm just surprised. i thought you'd be like... hella particular. or more closed off i guess." it's a fair assumption, but he imagines it's best not to assume anything about jude, especially where chaos is concerned. "fair, fair," he concedes, nodding. "it's still sharing a bed though. it's something. uh, me, i dunno. yeah, wherever i fall down first, i guess. probably leave it open in case anybody's like you, y'know. just wants a bed kinda vibe. nothing major."

CALLIE

"for sure," she nods, glancing around. "and it's really not that bad. i feel like i've talked it down to so many people today, but it's been a lot of fun before everything. it's a holiday, and even holidays some with some stress." callie's nose wrinkles lightly. "i don't know about sweetness. you like me acting like a cunt?" you know what, him being interested in seb suddenly makes sense. she can't help but laugh, feeling vindicated in making him a little flustered for a change. "well there's a reason i moved to california! other than the surf. it was like being home, minus the twenty hour flight between us." being here makes her miss it actually, but she blames so many americans. lips press together, aware that she's probably been nothing but closed off all day. it's a fair assumption. "i'm not closed off," she shook her head. "earlier today i was a little more in my head about it, but now... it feels stupid not to be open. and i want to be," she adds, slowly. "i want to be with someone that can actually be all in on someone, you know? i don't think that's hard to ask for. eventually." but they had been talking about beds, she realizes a beat too late. "sorry," she shakes her head. "no, but i'm open to sharing a bed, i don't care. you're not gonna ask one of the guys?"

ANGEL

it’s good reassurance, about love island in general and callie’s disposition. “that’s what i’m sayin’. always gonna be some downs, but the ups are major. beautiful villa, cool people. life’s good and all that shit.” ‘cause even he can laugh at the california hippy dippy stonerisms, all good vibes and peace signs, man. “hey, i’m glad you’re coming around, feelin’ more like you.” big laugh at her verbiage, he shakes his head. “‘kay, i definitely didn’t say that. the edge is sexy, sue me.” while he hasn’t been to australia, he’s beginning to fully believe they really are the mirror of each other. “sooo what you’re saying is california is the best place of all time.” nodding his head playfully like she needn’t say more. to be fair, callie hasn’t really put out any particular vibes that she was closed off. a little uncertain maybe, reluctant to expose herself to the bombshells grafts, but it’s day one. who can blame her? “no, exactly, like somebody that doesn’t have doubts. it seriously shouldn’t be rare to be, like, all eggs in with somebody.” he also realizes a beat too late and smiles, shrugs. finds the tie-in really easy. “well, that’s why i’m trying to chill with the bed thing. like, i’m not tryin’ to have a different person with me every night. it’d be cool to be… y’know, more on the sure side. just need another day, i think.”

CALLIE

as far as days in the villa have been, this one has objectively been the worst. not because of frankie and dylan leaving and having to reevaluate her relationship alone, but because she's genuinely embarrassed by the way she's behaved, feeling like she had lost a part of herself somewhere in the mix. but despite everything, she is feeling a bit more like herself, and tomorrow she's going to work to keep this energy going. "and i'm glad you're enjoying your time here, so far, really." eyes roll lightly at the compliment, having never been good at taking one in the first place. "i did not say that," she snorts, shaking her head. "it's up there for sure, i really do miss san diego. but there's so many other places i want to see before i could say it will full confidence. definitely not LA though, sorry." she'd only been once, but it was enough to make her never want to bother again. all the best parts of it could be said about san diego, in her opinion. "yeah, that makes sense," she nods, features softening a bit at the sincerity of what he's saying. being here is not the same as normal villa life had been with frankie, but it's hard not to compare the two. "the first day is always the most overwhelming anyway, having to keep up with everyone. sometimes being here feels like musical chairs, getting ready to jump on the nearest person just because it's time, but... it's not always the case. relationships end up being very real," she shrugs, meeting his eye. "despite, y'know, reality tv."

ANGEL

“totally,” he affirms. “so far the only real downswing was when you took my cabana boy job.” slow, unfurled smile on that one. he had to throw it back to that one more time. c’mon, that was insane. “‘definitely not la’ what is this?” angel scoffs, all dramatized furrowed brow. “you were, like, barely even in the city, you don’t know all the spots. swear, you’d dig it. haven’t lived ‘til you had street corn drunk as fuck on the streets of weho at three am.” angel doesn’t exactly fancy himself a scholar of psychology - he probably can’t even spell it - but he definitely can posit how it all makes him feel. “right, just like how relationships outside can end up fake. i dunno, i mean, like a day in here is worth three out there, right? like, i’ve known you… twelve hours? but it’s twelve consecutive fuckin’ hours,” he laughs, gestures. “like i pass you in the hall and see you making food with naomi and fixing your drinks and shit. and, y’know, it’s like that with everyone. so i can see it feeling less like musical chairs and more… yeah, real. but i guess sometimes it is just game playing, huh? like a duck is just a duck.” that seems to be the issue a lot of people are dealing with. naomi, jenny, callie. all wondering if their other half was as real as they thought. then there’s the bombshells, wondering if there’s some sincerity that come with the rebound nature of the game. angel dissolves into a laugh, hand wiping down his face. “man, tell me that made, like, a little bit of sense. the tequilas in my head now.”

CALLIE

"you're a shit cabana boy," she snorts, glad he's at least able to joke about it, "you didn't even bring back towels for anyone else. i had to do your dirty work." which is probably why naomi got it in her head that callie was icing her out; she could roll her eyes just thinking about it. that girl could make drama out of anything. "weho?" she laughs, absolutely no idea what he's talking about. "we went out when i was there, but i can't remember where. it was all just very... barbie-like." and not the kind that the shrimp goes on. "exactly!" she nods, sitting up straighter. the temptation to bring up her relationship with frankie is clawing at her throat, but she swallows it down. "and i don't know. i've been in, like, four couples now. but you're with these people all day. they weren't real relationships, but i've probably spent more time with most of them than i have people i dated short-term on the outside. but at the same time—it's three days, or whatever. and hot people come in all the time, and suddenly it's just three days, so i don't know. there's really no right way of looking at it, i guess." a duck is just a duck. seems like the best way to put it. "no, it did, i think," she laughs too, running her fingers through her hair, grateful to feel it's almost completely dried. "i don't know, i think i'm rambling at this point, sorry. good luck, is all i'll say."

#callie & angel ;#callie ;#callie & angel 002

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ykwritesotherstuff · 2 years

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Hellfire heart|| E.M|| Prologue (Rewritten)

Summary: Just another Eddie Munson fanfic that you´ll have to read and see what happens because Idk how it´s going to go and also this is my second time rewriting this stuff so... yeah.

Note: I will be using characters and some details I like from the show but don´t come at me if something is not canon because I´ll be making up a lot of stuff.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader.

What the fuck am I doing here?

This might’ve been the worst idea I’ve ever had. I don’t smoke weed or take any other drugs. Having my brain affected by a substance? No thanks, even less in this fucking town, because, you know, a monster might decide to try destroy the world at any given moment.

I’m not exaggerating, it happened last year when I moved to Hawkins during the summer. And it happened big time, russians opening a secret portal and a big -disgusting- fleshy monster destroying the new mall… that type of insane.

Terrible choice of friends too, because they happened to be the ones putting their lives on the line to save everyone. Of course I joined them, I was not about to chicken out.

Don’t get me wrong, I adore them, but that adventure was too adrenaline filled to handle.

Now, I better get to the point.

Where were we?

Right.

About to knock on a trailer park door.

My fist loudly crashes against white, run down metal as I regret my life choices.

I can hear things moving inside and a muffled male voice saying something I don’t quite catch before the door flies open.

All I see is long curly hair, tattoos and silver rings accompanied by a confused face.

Eddie Munson in the flesh.

“Huh, weird seeing you here”he says, arching a brow “how can I help you?”

“I want to buy weed”

My voice doesn’t sound convinced, rather questioning and unsure, but a girl gotta do what she gotta do.

Eddie instantly falls into his usual theatrics, reacting as if my request is so crazy he will faint.

“You, weed?”he scream-whispers with a hand on his chest.

“Yes, Munson” I fix my posture, trying to appear confident.

“Last time I saw you, you almost punched me in the face because I sell”he stops for a moment, adding dramatic effect “and now you want to buy”

He is right, but I did it for a solid reason, I intimidated him when I found out he was friends with Dustin, Lucas and Mike and my protective ass had to make sure he didn’t even think about selling to them.

“Munson” I reach in my pocket and take out a 20, a lot more agressive than before“are you gonna sell me that shit or not?”

“Jeez” he audibly sighs, stepping back to let me in “I can’t do it in plain sight, obviously”

Instead of responding I just nod and step inside to find a messy living room, coffee table full of cigarettes and empty beer cans and various clothes scattered on the floor.

Eddie closes the door and disappears into what I assume is his room. Not too hard to guess since the small portion of it I see has heavy metal posters plastered on the walls. Very fitting for him.

Standing here, reality starts to dawn on me harder, the shit I do for the kids is fucking unreal.

“With 20, this is what you get”

He has come back, holding a small plastic bag for me to take.

“Thank you, Munson” I extend my arm to take it with full intention on leaving as fast as I can.

However, Eddie retrieves his hand quickly and puts the bag in the front pocket of his dark ripped jeans.

“Before we finish this fun transaction, tell my why you’re getting it” a shit eating grin crosses his lips.

“Why do you care?”

“Because this is not your style”

“If you don’t want the money then fine, I’ll find another dealer”

There’s no reason why he should know what I plan on doing, no one has to know at all.

“Tell me and I’ll give you a discount” he insists.

“I’ll pass”

“Ten dollars instead of twenty”

He bothers me in general, but now I want to punch him more than usual. A discount doesn´t sound too bad, having in mind that I´m broke, but I´m mad that I have to tell him my plans to get it.

Again, the shit I do for the kids...insane.

''You know Jason?''I ask, tired of this situation even before it started.

''What Jason?''

''That stupid basketball player''

''Carver?''his eyes grow wide as he dramatically covers his mouth in disbelief ''What does that asshole have to do with this?''

''I heard from the kids that he´s messing with them''

''Yeah, he is a bully after all''

''He also pretends to like Lucas and then talks shit, Max told me she overheard some stuff''

''And what does this have to do with weed?''

''I will be putting it in his backpack or something and then report him anonymously''

''What?''he jumps back screaming, clearly excited to hear this '' That´s fucking badass''

''I guess''

''That shit can get him expelled big time''

''Little bitch needs a lesson''

''Well, I´ll give this to you for free'' he takes the bag out of his pocket and hands it out to me again ''if you let me help you''

What is this guy on? seems like he really wants to get arrested, because if someone gets accused of planting weed on other people´s backpacks...it will be him.

Anyway it´s not my problem, if he gets caught I´ll let them take the blame, so I just shrug.

''Sure''

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things scenario #stranger things

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winchestershiresauce · 3 years

Text

High on You

Summary: Smoking weed to relax after a rough day becomes a whole lot more when Daryl joins you.

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

3455 words

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, drug use (weed), almost public sex, fluff, mentions of the bible

A/N: Special thanks to @daryl-dixon-daydreams for suggestions/edits. This turned out way softer than I originally intended, but I love it. I hope you enjoy!

After the long day you’d had, all you wanted to do was decompress. You’d tried reading, you’d tried sleeping, but you realized you needed something just a little bit stronger. So, with a plan in place, you grabbed your trusty bible and snuck down the stairs. You had to admit, you felt a bit like a teenager sneaking out in the middle of the night to get up to trouble, despite the fact that you were a grown woman and the world as you’d known it had ended.

You silently crept out the front door into the night, slowly pulling it closed behind you. It was about two in the morning as you tip-toed across the porch and sat down on the steps of the Alexandrian house you shared with other members of your group of survivors. Setting your leather-bound bible in your lap, you opened it and flipped through the well-loved pages to get to the good stuff inside, but froze when you heard a plank of the porch floor creak from around the corner. You turned around to see Daryl approaching, his crossbow in one hand.

"Can't sleep?" he grunted in your direction, and you subtly closed the worn cover to your Bible as he sat on the step next to you.

"Nah, not after today. You?" you replied, and he merely gave a little shrug.

"Didn't know you was religious." He nodded toward the book in your lap, and you smiled sheepishly.

"I'm, uh, not, actually." He raised his eyebrow at you, expecting you to elaborate or explain, so you opened the Bible and showed him the contents, chewing your lip. About an inch from the edges, the middle of the pages was cut out. In the space that remained was a baggie of weed, a lighter, and pieces of blank pages that had been cut out and trimmed to size for use as rolling papers. Daryl's eyes moved from you to the illicit stash, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Yer kidding," he chuckled. You loved the sound of a genuine laugh spilling from his lips: something you didn't hear nearly often enough.

You shook your head and shrugged, "Not at all. The pages are the perfect thickness to roll joints with."

"Yeah, guess I just didn't peg ya for a druggie." You feigned offense, pretending to clutch your pearls, but found yourself laughing as well.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Dixon, but it's the end of the world. Hell if I'm gonna pretend I don't like pot because of the social stigma anymore." He shook his head as if he couldn't believe the conversation was happening, and began fiddling with the crossbow in his lap that you weren't sure you'd ever seen him without. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you got to work rolling a nice little joint for yourself and he went back to whatever it was that he was doing with his bolts. When you licked the paper to try to seal it closed, you glanced over to see that Daryl had been watching you.

"Yer not doin' it right. That's gonna fall apart before ya can even smoke it," he critiqued, watching as you frustratedly attempted to turn the twist of weed and paper in your hand into something smokeable.

"I know! I'm just tired and don't wanna waste the paper so I'm trying to fix it!" you retorted.

"Give it 'ere." He reached his open hand out to you, and you rolled your eyes.

"Fine. If you think you can do better, have at it." You felt a little irritated - you knew how to roll a joint, dammit - but placed what was definitely one of the saddest-looking joints you'd ever seen into his outstretched palm. He carefully unrolled it and adjusted the pile of dried cannabis to better resemble the innards of a cigarette. You watched intently, unsure which you were enjoying more: the way he expertly turned your sad mess into a work of art by comparison, or the way the muscles in his forearms tensed and rippled as he worked his large callused fingers at such a delicate task. When he raised the joint to his mouth and licked the paper to form the closest thing to a seal he could get without adhesive, you couldn’t help the quiet reactive groan that escaped from your throat.

“What?” he asked as he continued to lick the paper to finish rolling the joint. You weren’t sure you wanted to answer, as it wasn’t exactly dignified the way that you were eyeballing him, but you did anyway.

“It’s just,” you started and bit your lip a little. “It’s hot when you do shit like that.”

“What?” He sounded incredulous.

You let out a small laugh, you couldn’t believe you were about to say this, “You’re so good with your hands and, I don’t know, the way you licked that just did things to me.” You shrugged, trying to play it off like you didn't just admit to ogling him. He didn’t even reply, just stared at you for a moment. His eyes narrowed a bit and you were pretty sure he thought you were fucking with him. He handed the now nicely-rolled joint to you and you took it, pleased.

In silence, you held the blessed joint between your lips and lit it. Taking a long drag, you inhaled fresh air to push the smoke deeper into your lungs and offered the joint to Daryl. With a slight nod, he took it from you and took a hit himself. You leaned back, blowing the smoke up toward the black night sky, and couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. It was just what you’d needed. For a few minutes, you and Daryl passed the joint between the two of you without speaking. You both reveled in the way the smoke danced into your lungs and escaped from your lips, letting the quiet night and the drugs do their best to calm you.

“Why do ya say shit like that?” Daryl eventually asked. You had just taken a large hit, savoring the feeling as you watched the joint dwindle to almost nothing, and you turned to look at him. He stared off straight ahead, looking utterly entranced with the neighbor’s flower garden.

“Shit like what?” you questioned, letting him have the last hit or two left. You raised your eyebrow at him, confused, since you hadn’t said anything in a while.

“How it’s hot when I do somethin'.” He shrugged vaguely and murmured some sort of noise that sounded close to “I dunno.” He tilted his head slightly and looked at you cautiously. “What ya said before…” You leaned your head back in realization: he really didn’t believe you when you told him he was fucking attractive.

“Because it’s true.”

“Nah.”

“Whatever you say, Dixon. You don’t have to believe me.” You smiled over at him and he let out a noncommittal grunt. You redirected the conversation to something a little lighter, but found things naturally meandering back to a similar topic after only a short while.

"So, how come ya couldn't sleep?" he asked, daring a glance into your eyes.

"Honestly?" you responded, and he nodded. "Well, I needed to decompress after the run today, so I was reading this book and, uh…" You pressed your lips together and decided you were about to share a little too much information.

"And what?" His question was genuine and you weren't sure if he could even pick up on your embarrassment.

"Promise not to laugh?" He regarded you for a moment, but nodded. "Well, I was reading a romance novel," you paused to see if he'd break his promise and laugh, continuing when he didn't, "and it got me a little wound up and made me realize how much I miss sex. You know?" Daryl stared, a little wide-eyed and very unsure of how to respond.

"A book made ya so horny ya couldn't fall asleep?" There was a slight laugh in his voice and you recognized that little twinkle in his eye when he lightly teased you.

"Not exactly, Daryl." You gave him a pointed look. "It just made me think about how long it's been and maybe I kinda miss it. Don't you?" He shrugged. "I guess I just wish some things were easier in the apocalypse. I really wanna be fucked good and hard until I'm begging for mercy." You exhaled forcefully, something between a laugh and a sigh.

"Why don't ya just ask somebody? I'm sure anybody here would help ya." You were honestly a bit surprised at the lack of reaction from him. Very personal conversations weren’t usually his forte, but the weed seemed to have mellowed him out a bit and he didn’t even blush.

"I don't know. That's not quite what I want, I guess. Tara and I fooled around some a while ago but it didn't feel right. I wanna feel something, and the only person I feel something for doesn't seem interested."

"Then they're an idiot." You tried your best to hide the smile that threatened to blossom on your face at his response. He was so genuine, and so sure. It was too bad he had no idea you were talking about him.

"Oh, so are you saying you'd be interested?" The relaxation from the weed had you feeling bolder than usual. You couldn't believe you'd asked, but there was no turning back.

"Not sayin' I'd not be." You could see the pink flush up his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears, and it made you feel warm.

"I see," you replied, biting back a grin. The two of you, again, sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments and you scooted closer to him. You set your hand on his where he'd had it resting on his thigh since he'd set aside his crossbow in favor of the weed. You slipped your fingers between his and you could feel the roughness of his pants beneath your fingertips. He looked up at you, uncertain, but didn't say anything. "This okay?" you asked. Again, he just nodded. He didn't want to risk his voice in case it gave away how nervous he was feeling. The quiet night enveloped you again, but it didn't bother you. You finally felt relaxed and maybe even a bit safe there with Daryl's hand in yours.

Daryl flipped over his hand under yours so you were palm-to-palm and he could wrap his fingers around yours. "Hey, Y/N?" he asked, and you looked up into his eyes.

"Hmm?" you hummed in reply.

"Can I kiss ya?" There was no holding back your grin anymore as the embodiment of strength, masculinity, and independence looked to you for an answer to a question you thought he'd never ask. You reached your hand up to cup his cheek, bit your lip, and nodded.

With that confirmation that you wanted what he did as well, he crashed his lips into yours. At first it was clumsy, like you were just getting to know each other, but soon your mouths moved together in sweet harmony. For a few minutes, you just kissed each other's breath away. Then, almost as if a switch was flipped, suddenly the movements of your mouths and tongues together weren't enough. You swung your leg over his, straddling him, and he immediately slid his hands down to cup your ass and drag you into his lap.

Before you knew it, you were grinding down on him, desperate for friction. With one hand, he pulled your hair behind your shoulder so he could place open-mouthed, hungry kisses across your jaw and throat. You could feel how hard he was beneath you and it only made you more desperate. Heat pooled between your legs, your pussy wet with anticipation as you kissed and groped each other like a couple of teenagers. You would've been glad the whole town was asleep if you'd had enough thought to care about how you looked at that moment.

"Fuck, Daryl," you panted, trying to catch your breath as he took it away. One hand had moved from your ass and began to paw at your breasts through your shirt. Pressing your center down on him, he bit your bottom lip and you pulled him closer as if you were trying to meld your bodies together. He let out a low groan that rumbled through his chest, and you giggled. He cocked his head at you in confusion.

"What?"

"Sorry, sorry." You continued to giggle, "I just can't believe we're doing this."

"Why's 'at?" You loved the way his words slid together like he was drunk on your touch (though, logically, you knew the weed likely had something to do with it).

"I've wanted you for so long, Daryl Dixon." You put a hand on either side of his face and looked right into his eyes. Goosebumps creeped up your skin as his rough fingers caressed your sides under your shirt, and you bit your lip before reaching for the hem of your t-shirt. You swore his eyes sparkled as he watched you pull the fabric up and over your head.

"Yer so beautiful," he sighed before ducking forward to wrap his lips around your nipple. Your fingers tangled in his hair and a loud moan escaped your lips as he flicked his tongue over the hardening bud. You tugged his head back to make him look up at you and he melted at the soft smile on your face.

“Daryl,” you whispered and he quirked his eyebrow up at you. “Do you want to take this inside?” You weren’t exactly shy but if you were being honest, you didn’t want to share the moment with anyone who may also have trouble sleeping and happened upon the scene. He nodded and you pressed your lips to his again before moving off of his lap.

The two of you had barely made it in the door to his basement room when he had you backed up into the wall. The pressure of his mouth on yours was more delicious than you’d imagined and your knees grew weak as his scruff tickled the skin around your lips. You were surprised at the way he had taken the lead in this dance, but you were far from complaining about it. Loving the way he felt against you, you moved your hand to rub him through his jeans. He was rock hard and pressed against the seam of his pants, making him groan as you pressed into him.

You began to unbuckle his belt but stopped when you felt his breath hitch against your skin. You looked up at him to find his eyes closed and what you hoped was a look of bliss across his face. When he felt your movements stall, he opened his eyes and caught your soft look of uncertainty.

“Wha’s ‘a matter?” He moved his hands so his thumbs rested at your temple.

“Just want to make sure you want this.”

“‘Course I want this.” The rough calluses of the pads of his thumbs brushed down the soft skin of your cheekbones and your lips surged up to meet his. Your fingers continued their delicate mission with his belt before unbuttoning his pants. His hips bucked up to meet your warm palm as you slid your hand between the cotton of his boxer briefs and the denim. Daryl’s hands slowly made their way down your body and found themselves at the button of your own jeans. As his fingers made quick work of the button, you slid your hand around to his hip so you could feel him pressing you heavily into the wall behind you. You gasped at the feeling of his hard length pressed against your center and the moan that left your lips as he rolled his hips into yours was downright sinful. His mouth quickly found yours again and he swallowed down your moans as his talented fingers found their way to your slick folds.

“Yes!” you cried as the tip of his middle finger circled your clit. Your breath eluded you as you felt something shift in his demeanor. Suddenly, Daryl was shoving your jeans and underwear to the floor as you frantically grabbed for the hem of his shirt, barely detaching your mouths long enough to pull it over his head. The feeling of your wetness against his skin was so perfect that he couldn’t even find the energy to be anxious or ashamed as your hands danced over the scars that littered his back. His clothes quickly joined yours on the floor and he thought he might lose it at the sigh that escaped your lips as his cock brushed against your core. You lifted one leg to drape over his hip so he could better access your excited pussy. With one hand, Daryl fisted himself and teased you as he slid his tip over your entrance and through your slick. His other hand moved to your ass to lift you up and give him a better angle.

As he thrust into your wet heat, he growled against the delicate skin of your throat. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt anything so perfect as when he buried himself in you. The way he filled you to the brim made you tremble, and Daryl paused to try to get himself together. The way your walls clenched around him would be the end of him, he was sure of it.

“Daryl,” you whined, “I need you to move. Need to feel you.” That was enough to snap him out of his reverie and he pulled back just to slam himself into you again. You let out a cry and tightened your grasp around his shoulders and squeezed your legs tighter around his waist.

“Ya feel so good,” he rasped in your ear as he pounded into you again and again. The way he slammed into that sweet spot with each thrust was divine and you couldn’t get enough. You felt the familiar warmth begin to bloom below your belly button as he dragged you toward your peak.

“You feel incredible. Don’t stop!” Your voice was much higher pitched than usual as he pulled you closer and closer to the edge. His grip on your ass tightened and you wouldn’t have been surprised if there were bruises forming where his fingers pressed deep into your cheeks as he held you in place and fucked you like you’d only dreamed he would.

“Fuck,” you chanted and Daryl’s breaths became staccato as the friction built between you. You could feel his pace quicken and his rhythm stuttered as you tumbled over the edge of your climax. You buried your face in the crook of his shoulder as you came, feeling your whole body shudder. Daryl fucked you through your peak as the waves of his own orgasm crashed over him. The feeling of him spilling hot inside of you made you dig your nails into his biceps as if you could cling to the sensation. He placed surprisingly soft kisses along the bottom of your jaw as his breathing began to even out.

“That was—holy shit—exactly what I fucking wanted,” you sighed and let yourself collapse into his chest as he set you down.

“Good, now let’s get some sleep.” Daryl pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and moved to steer you toward his bed.

He lifted the blanket so you could crawl in and he followed right after. As you settled in, you couldn't help but curl up against his side, his warmth engulfing you as he tucked his arm around you. You turned to face him and placed a kiss on his chest when you felt him tense beneath you.

"What?" you asked, and you felt him shake his head.

"Mmm," he started, collecting his thoughts. "Jus' wonderin' if this is a one-time, we're high kinda thing or—"

"I hope not." You wrapped your arm around his torso and craned your head to look up at him. "I meant what I said earlier about wanting you for a while, and not just 'cause you're sexy." He scoffed but you felt him relax again, and he pulled you closer in to his side. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck and for the first time in a long time, you felt at home. There was nowhere you'd rather be than contentedly tucked into his side, his bare skin pressed softly against yours.

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