#milky!mail | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tojipie · 6 months

Note

adah … reader sliding toji her panties during a visit … him jerking off with them in his cell … (i know realistically it wouldn’t work bc regulations blah blah blah guards would see it and all BUT but indulge me for a sec) this man would go FERAL FOR THEM ((satosugu would try to steal them deprived freaks))

prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: jerking off, mentions of violence, panty kink .. ? if that’s not a thing ignore that tag

you don’t know what had gotten into you today, truly.

the idea had popped into your head as you were getting dressed, a little voice in the back of your brain directing your thoughts toward the maxi skirt you’d bought on an outing last weekend.

the fabric was opaque, impossibly silky. ebbing and flowing along the dips of your body all the way down to your ankles. tight enough to show off your figure but not enough to restrict your movements. easy to maneuver in without being too obvious.

that’s precisely why you have no issues wiggling your panties off each hip under one of the prison’s many visitor tables, letting the black lace slip over your knees and around your ankles.

you let one foot slip out of the garment, lifting your leg to brush against toji’s calf slowly.

huh?

he whispers, amused at what he thinks is a little game of footsie. the inmate palms at the meat of your calf lovingly, traveling down down down until calloused fingers close around your ankle.

oh.

he’s quiet when he says it, eyes blown wide with a mix of shock and arousal. you barely hear him over the bustle of the visitor hall, the small smile gracing his face being your only indication of what he’s about to do.

toji delicately lifts the fabric from around your leg, scanning the perimeter to make sure no one’s looking. emerald eyes bore into yours as your boyfriend balls the garment up in his fist, bringing his closed hand up to his mouth.

and then he kisses it. kisses your panties through the gaps in his fingers without ever looking away, sending a lightning bolt of arousal straight to the deepest pit of your stomach.

you swear you see him stuff the fabric down the front of his pants before he heads back.

˚ ✧ ───

your little gift doesn’t last a chance in the shitty hiding place he picked, haphazardly thrown under the swell of his pillow while he eats lunch in the mess hall. all toji knows is that they were in his cell mates’ greedy little paws by the late afternoon, the two insufferable men huddled around the item like schoolgirls reading a magazine.

“how the fuck did you get these past customs?” geto asks in disbelief, turning the fabric over in the dim light. gojo runs a lithe finger over the lace border in silent interest.

“didn’t get it in the mail dumbass,” your boyfriend sneers, snatching the black lace from both men with a huff.

“so y’r broad snuck them to you, huh?” gojo teases, head hanging off the edge of the bunk with boredom.

toji couldn’t stomp the two young men half to death like he usually would, disappointing as that was. he did only just get visitation rights back again after his last infraction.

the last time he’d beat geto’s face in was after the younger man had got his hands on a picture of you, earning toji 2 months in solitary confinement.

he really did think he was starting to go crazy, spending 22 hours a day in that padded room with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. being fed through a tray slot in the wall like a fucking zoo animal.

more time in solitary meant less time with you. less time with the picture of you he tacked to the underside of the top bunk with a wad of gum, palming himself slowly as he takes in the sight of your sweet little smile he knows all too well.

less time with the soft clutch of your panties caressing the underside of his dick, catching milky ropes of cum as he finishes all over his stomach on the slab of metal this place calls a bed.

and a whole lot less time of getting to rut into you under the dim light of a spare storage closet, hours after dark. hand closed right around your lips as he takes you over and over and over.

so if toji had to bite his tongue till he drew blood and settle for jerking his dick raw as a distraction, then so be it. at least your little present would keep him good company till’ your next visit.

taglist🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82 @freebananabeard @vivian-555 @kentokaze @subarusuguru @aroxwq @i-literally-cant-with-this @emikokomura @moonriseoverkyoto

#prison bf! toji #prison bf!toji #toji x reader #toji x reader smut #toji x fem reader #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk toji #toji headcanons #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji imagine #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #zenin toji #jujutsu toji #toji #toji drabbles #toji smut

2K notes · View notes

konigsblog · 2 months

Text

rapist-soap thots™️...

cw: non-con, rape, black mail, toxic-soap.

dead dove: do not eat. 🪦🕊️

he swears it's not his fault, that he couldn't resist seeing you so vulnerable, but he knew fully about his sickening desires and twisted, disturbed fantasies, the ones he'd get off to in the middle of the night, thinking about having his way with you. his fat, thick cock leaked pre onto his calloused, scarred hand, fat globs of his milky, hot release dripping from his fingertips, chanting your name breathlessly through hoarse growls and deep grunts.

he'd snuck into your barracks, already peeling away your panties, removing them from your already barely covered figure. it was as if you desired him; desperately wanted him to do this to your poor, weak body, and fuck, he wasn't gonna miss out on an opportunity like this, bonnie... :(

when he began rutting, the tears began flowing – rolling down your cheeks as your breathing began to quicken, causing you to cry and sob out through the agony that all hit your body at once. panties stuffed in your mouth, you drooled and slobbered all over them, slick cunt having the instinct to clutch and latch onto his weeping, veiny shaft, arousal dripping from your warm wetness despite your wails of pain and agony.

you didn't even turn around out of pure terror, you didn't expect johnny to be the one causing and inflicting this pain and torture onto you – being so inhumane, his breathing laboured, sucking in a sharp breath. you only recognised him at the sound of his rough, tired voice, his attempt at coddling you and soothing your fear, rubbing your sensitive nub in small circles to hopefully help with the ache between your supple, tight thighs. your body jerked and twitched, in an attempt to fight him off, all to no avail as he held your arms down by your biceps, pinning them to the bed as he pounded into your sopping wet, raw hole.

he'd pried you open, forcing you to take every, single, fucking inch he had to offer your sweet, sweet soul. you cried, for mercy, for sympathy, to be treated like a soldier, but all he did was chuckle and hold your head down against your mattress, ramming into you with an agonising, rough pace ‘til he got what he'd been dreaming of all this time.

you poor soul. you didn't notice his phone recording; recording your wet pussy taking every inch of his hard, stiff cock, and the sounds of your moans and cries in the background... surely, you wouldn't want this to circle the entire base, right?

better make it up to him, you were so disobedient and misbehaved, sucking him off as compensation for your struggling and misbehaviour would be fair, right? :(

#orla speaks #tw: rape #tw: non con #tw: noncon #tw dubious consent #tw: dubcon #tw: dark content #dark cod #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #soap x reader smut #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish fanfic #soap mactavish smut #cod soap #soap call of duty

386 notes · View notes

twilghtkoo · 1 year

Text

late night soju chat

summary. in which, haechan has been coming home late the past few days because of work and you’ve been up every time he returns.

pairings. haechan x streamer!reader (f)

genre. fluff, established relationship, idol!au

warnings. reader is drinking (legal), i also do not know the gaming/streaming lingo that well so (･_･;

—

“oh yeah! i’m really excited for the legend of zelda tears of the kingdom.. the sequel to breath of the wild.” you answer to the viewer who commented asking if you preordered the game yet. “i did get the collectors edition though, first, i thought i shouldn’t, but i ended up getting it.” you take another shot of soju easily, the liquid going down your throat as you tilted your head back in a quick motion.

user omg yes the inclusions are so pretty!!

user i’d get it just for the art book cus link <3

the digital clock by your monitor reads 2:15. the chat already pointed out how they can tell you’re tired, but you told them you can manage and wait.

“chat, strawberry soju and the strawberry milkis is so dangerous. it literally tastes like a fruit punch or the pink starburst.” you exclaim, finishing pouring a bit of the flavored milk and yogurt drink into the shot of the soju.

user don’t drink sm!!

user soju is so good oml

you scoff, “guys this is like my third one, don’t worry!” you attempt to assure the chat. you’ve done a few streams drunk, and thankfully those times you were under the influence, your boyfriend was watching and about two doors down. one time you fell asleep on your chair, and you fell asleep for a good fifteen minutes til haechan came to the rescue and ended the stream for you.

user where’s haechan when we need him

user i’m so tired lmao

user when are u dropping merch

“haechan should be on his way home,” you reply to your screen. “he’s gonna be super tired so i’ll end it when he gets here.” haechan’s schedule has been hectic these past few days, leaving in the early mornings and coming home late at night. he’s told you that you don’t have to wait up for him and to go ahead and sleep, not wanting you to stay up for him. but you barely see him throughout the day, so you’d like to greet him when he walks through your door. finally, kissing his lips and hugging him tightly, rubbing his tense muscles.

you're looking through the art book and showing chat a few pages that had you squealing. a game that you've been playing since you were a child, it was definitely your number one favorite and you're glad your followers are finding interest and are even up at this hour with you.

user i can't believe nintendo sent this to u early D: that's such a big thing yn im so happy for u!!!!

you smile after taking another shot. "thank you user, i know, when i saw the big ass box in my mail i was over the fucking moon. and i was holding myself back from opening it as soon as i got it, but i decided to wait and open it with you guys." you told your viewers honestly, preparing another shot.

user oh i can't wait for ur tears of the kingdom gameplay !!

user aye lemme get a sip

"user thank you for the 1,000 bits!"

your house was pretty quiet, of course, at this hour of the night. but past your headphones you heard rustling from outside your streaming room door. you moved your headphone off one ear to listen in.

you slightly gasped into your mic, with a grin. "chat i think haechan just got hoooome!" you took the shot that you had prepared earlier.

"this is so good," you hummed quietly.

user haechan is hoooome

user my fav couple <3

"haechan? baby?" you called out.

you hear a few sounds going off in your headphone, mostly being subs and cheers asking about haechan and some about you.

"yn? babe, you're still up?" you hear haechan from the hallway and his footsteps coming closer, he knocks on your door before peeking his head through the cracked door.

"hello handsome, i missed you." you greeted him from your gaming chair, holding out your arms for him to walk into them so you could embrace him. he drops his leather bag by the door and immediately takes the steps to you with a tired smile. he was dressed in the same clothes he was in when he left in the early morning.

he groans softly in your hold, you squeeze his frame and rub his back soothingly, trying to offer as much relief from his tiring day.

user haechan!!!

user YOOOO

user aww look at them :(

he acknowledges that you are streaming but he doesn't hold back on showing you affection. he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. "i told you you don't have to wait up for me."

you continue to softly rub his back, "i know, but i wanted to to see you."

"are you still gonna stream?" he has a feeling you won't and that you'll turn it off and go to bed with him.

you shake your head, pulling away from the hug you look up at him.

"no, i just turned it on a few hours ago and decided to just chat with my followers until you got home, i'm about to end the stream now." you tell him and glance over at the screen to keep up with the comments.

user hi haechan

user haechan we tried to tell her

user we were baysitting for u

user HAECHAN SAY HI

he looks at your desk set up. "damn, baby. drinking on the clock? that's why your cheeks are a bit rosy." he teases, pointing at the almost empty bottle of soju, his other free hand holding yours.

you shrug, "i was thirsty."

you giggled, "chat says hi, say hi back to chat." you continued, pointing at the flowing of comments.

the top half of his face was cut off by the camera since he was pretty tall and he was standing, he crouches down a bit and waves at the cam.

"hi everyone, thank you for watching yn and thank you everyone for staying up with her."

you smile at him interacting with your viewers before starting to poke his sides. "can i get a kiss first and then i'm going to turn this off."

he effortlessly cups the side of your face gently and leans in to press his lips against yours, his thumb caressing the soft skin of your rosy cheeks and he pulls away.

you wet your lips as you turn with your chair to focus on chat.

haechan is still standing beside you but he reaches for the soju bottle and easily gulps down the last of it before putting it back on the desk.

"okay guys, like i said earlier, i planned on ending this stream when haechan got home. so i'm going to go now, good night everyone and thank you for watching and staying up with me. bye!"

user goodnight yn and haechan!!

user aww goodnight

user goodnight

user night yn :)

he waves with you before the stream ends. he drags you out of your streaming room after you turned everything off properly, walking with you tiredly, hand in hand, to your shared bedroom. ready to sleep in all afternoon with you in his arms, because tomorrow he finally has a rest day. and he wants nothing more than to be with you.

652 notes · View notes

sokkisky · 8 months

Note

OMGGGGG tysmmm

ur work is so under appreciated u deserve 1 billion likes per post 🤬🤬🤬

-❤️‍🔥

shhh stop it im already crying

you're so sweet ml <3

#sent!:❤️‍🔥#sokki!talks #milk!talks #milky!mail

0 notes

fishstyx · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐊𝐈 + 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

cw. gn!reader, dubcon, dumbification, overstimulation

“Cumming on my cock again?”

Aki chuckles as you shiver and spasm around his length, gasping as your high consumes all train of thought. Toes curled, nails carving crescent moons in his back, you struggle to stay tethered to reality. He pumps pure pleasure into your veins and he knows it, from the desperation in your moans to the way your head falls back.

“Has my baby gone dumb on their favorite toy?” he asks when you’re unresponsive, phasing in and out of consciousness with half-lidded eyes. Still, he keeps bottoming out inside you, abusing a spot so deep and sweet you struggle to form whole words.

“Ak—can’t, mmph..!”

He knocks the wind right out of you, pushing your thighs against his shoulders so he can fuck you deeper. The base of his cock feels even thicker this way, stretching you to your absolute limit. Your senses are so high strung it may as well be torture.

“Hmm, were you saying something?” he asks, as if you have the capacity to answer. He’s more than satisfied with the look on your face alone—a look that wavers between agony and content, hurt and delight.

He fucks you steadily that way, enamored in the little squeaks and yelps you make. What a perfect fuck doll you are, making such cute noises for him when you’re twitching underneath him. His jaw tenses and he realizes he’s close just from listening. He’d love to fill you up, stuff you full of hot cum, but instead he flips you on your side.

It’s embarrassing, the view he gets at this angle. Propping one of your legs in the air, he can fully appreciate your slants and curves this way—the arch in your back, the swell of your ass. His favorite view of all is that of his cock pulling out slowly, and suddenly ramming back in again. He loves the way you accommodate him, stretched to the brim, gasping every time he bucks his hips. Your mouth goes slack, open so wide that you’re nearly drooling. It’s a stupid, happy look, and it makes his thrusts run shallow.

He’s quick to pull out and kneel above your chest, his expression like that of someone making a right turn or getting the mail—unperturbed. It’s with an unceremonious slap that he measures his dick across your face, its length dwarfing your facial features. You eye it through a hazy lens, the heft of his cock balanced perfectly against your nose.

“Hah, that’s a good look for you.”

Your lips press together when he leans down, expectant of a kiss, but instead he spits on his cock—or perhaps, right on your face. You wince, the warmth puddling across your cheek. He covers your hand and wraps it around himself, jerking slowly until you follow. As you find your rhythm, his grip tightens, hand clenching hand. He forces a faster tempo, lips pursing when he’s close again, cock twitching with every stroke.

He makes sure to coat your face in its entirety, drenching it in his milky seed. In several spurts you’re dripping from your hair to your chin, not a drop gone to waste. Even your eyelids are splattered, and he laughs when you can barely open them. The warmth makes you drowsy and the exhaustion tides you over, but not before you see his cell phone in your face.

#csm smut #aki hayakawa smut #chainsaw man x reader #aki smut #aki x reader #tw. dark.#tw. dubcon.#🍣.flakes #tw. overstim.#fishstyx.csm

1K notes · View notes

blorbocedes · 9 months

Note

Painting their nails / girlcedes ?

"Sit still, you're - you're wiggling." Nico snaps, dabbing a wet tissue at where she went over the edge yet again, second coat of the milky white gloss.

Lewis is tapping her foot, impatient. "Am not. You're just bad at it, dude."

Nico goes a splotchy pink whenever it's implied she's bad at something, something Lewis picked up on when their karting coach critiqued Nico's admittedly shit start, and her face went the same shade of embarrassed. This close, Nico's nose red and freckly from all the time they spend in the sun.

Why the hell you go and make things so complicated is blasting from Nico's CD player. She's the one who got the idea to do their nails, after the rain meant their race got postponed. Nico's are always painted, and sharing rooms with her -- Lewis knows the work behind keeping that French manicure pristine. Lewis herself doesn't care, they'll get chipped from the gloves and when they race anyways, so what's the point? Nico groaned something about how looking at Lewis' naked sad nails were giving her a headache, and Lewis called her a bitch. And then they were at the sole desk of their shared room.

"Shut up, Lewis." Nico's back to work, frowning and shiny blond hair falling over her face. Nico's just so... girly. Lewis knows the comments the boys make about her, daddy's a world champion so she gets a free ride while looking pretty. Nobody makes those comments about Lewis because she's here to win. Nobody cares what she looks like, with her cropped short hair and sports bra -- hell, they think she's a boy and it's always fun to see their faces when they realise they've been beaten by the only black girl. Nobody thinks Nico's a boy. With her pretty nails and makeup and face. The boys, when Keke's not around, try to ask for her E-mail before Lewis' withering glare shuns them off. That's for the best, she tells herself. Lewis doesn't want to be liked, she wants to be respected.

She doesn't have time to sit around and do her nails, when she needs to be more than the best to simply make it. Nico has all the time in the world.

Sometime in 2016, Lewis is a three-time world champion, fighting for her fourth. She shows up to races in expensive extensions, bejewelled nails done to the nines, to be taken off before practice and an entirely new set done by the time she's ready to party on Sunday. Nobody can tell her anything. She's made her place, here. Marked her name on the sport.

It's during a boring post quali interview, Lewis impatiently tapping her foot when she looks at Nico beside her, hands on the mic. Nails trimmed neat, short. No polish. Wedding ring.

#girlcedes #forgive my girl lewis it's 2002 she's 16 and has the worlds worst not like other girls complex #f1 rpf #my fics #prompt game #blorbocedes ask

146 notes · View notes

holyghostbelle · 7 months

Text

THE THIRTEENTH STEP

(sponsor!dark!Eddie Munson x recovering!reader)

Oh how I've created the most deliciously terrible pairing, so many warnings and red flags.

if you are under the age of 18 I will make out with you dad >:0 don't make me do that

Eddie Munson is 5 years sober and horribly famous, reader is 60 days sober and has never heard of the bands he's in :) 29 year old Eddie , 21 yr old reader. Fem reader. ALSO STEVE THE ARMY GUY is not STEVE HARRINGTON

Warnings: drug use, addiction, drug addiction, alcoholics, sex addicts, sexual assault(not eddie),power play, the act of thirteenth stepping( becoming involved with newly recovering addict),abuse, victimisation, reader hates herself, reader is suicidal,Gaslighting and manipulation

Masterlist

It's 1994 and you stop smoking, you chew gum instead, sipping dark roast coffees when you crave them.You stop drinking too, stop doing drugs, you're totally clean now and you get tattoos, thousands of them (well you have maybe more than 20) you've been clean for less than 60 days.

Your parents are so proud of you, and you've broken up with ‘him’? So you've got everything ahead of you and nothing to lose. You're living with your parents, back at home, you don't hear the drunks outside,they don't knock on your door and beg. The mail comes and it is never bad news. You thank your rich mum and dad. You pray every night that they are telling the truth when they say how far you've come, but deep down you know they aren't, back at home already and your degree hasn't even finished yet.

You're a failure.

They've spent so much money on you, you want to pay it all back, hospital bills, expensive rehabilitation, one of the new ones, with green tea and yoga and celebrities who have phones you put in your pocket, the one your dad has for work.

You have crystal healing therapy and draw your feelings in big white open rooms with hundreds of plants, and half the time you think to yourself.

‘i'd rather he hit and shout at me all over again before Rachel stands up and hums incredibly loudly at the back of my head for another session of reiki healing, in fact i'd rather be back to lying on the streets overdosing if she prescribes a fucking hug. Id rather have a fucking! stomach pump if she tells me i'm worth it! One more fucking time.``

But you're out now, stuck in the New York suburbs with assholes who take prescription drugs and drink green smoothies and walk tiny dogs and listen to music that makes you want to cut your ears off and shove them down someone's throat.

Your parents buy you a car to get to the NA meetings. It's thirty minutes away. In a church.

You remember going there on Sundays with your family, fresh faced in babydoll dresses and tiny little white socks, with your pink pocket bible and you'd get pancakes with sweet syrup and fresh fruit and your nan would scoop up all the foam on her coffee and let you taste it when your mum turned a blind eye, bitter and milky.

But this is different, you've done this all by yourself.

’Step 1: Admit your life has become unmanageable’

Okay, so it's your first college party right? And you're freshly 18. You've never drunk (the sip of your dads beer doesn’t count) and you're dressed well; slutty. Your roommates pulled something out that's low cut? You're a hundred percent sure it's a nightgown at this point. And you've got boots and a brown matte lip and you look at yourself in the mirror and think.

‘Is this what it's like to be popular?”

So anyway, you show up to this party right, you-look-so-fucking-hot. And you meet this guy, well you meet “him”, He's cute, a little flirty. He makes you smile and he smokes weed. And remember you've never drunk or done any drugs, but you really like him and any common sense gets thrown out of your pretty little head, so you do a shot and smoke.

You end up in his bed that night, he's pressed against you whispering poetry into your ear, you swallow air and cry and you've never been deeply religious because you did give that boy a hand-job in the church graveyard when you were fourteen, so it's not like you're totally a prude or anything because your roommate's dress hangs around your waist as you lose your virginity to him, and all you ask is,

“Is this what heaven feels like?”

You're light and airy.

You wake up in the morning and leave and you start going out every night trying to catch him at the bar that doesn’t ID, you see him with other girls-he leaves with other girls, hunched over in the back alley. Sometimes it's you, in his car, in the bar toilets, in his house, you don't leave for days, your mind is constantly foggy and he is on the phone to his friend talking about drugging the same girl over and over, but you want it so badly so it can't be you, right?

So you start buying off him and suddenly all of your trust fund is gone and your owing him favours, your on his bedroom floor high as a fucking kite you see color's and your pretty sure your on acid, you don't actually know? But it doesn't matter at this point because you’ve convinced yourself he's in love with you.

You've missed all your classes this week because you're too busy getting pounded by the guy that gives you drugs for free and then he stops whispering poetry into your ear and you are actually like together, because you got kicked out of your apartment and you live with him now.

There's no point going anywhere, your mind is foggy, you've lost so much weight and you don't actually know what's going on at this point, he tells you what you need, his friends come and go, he must have hundreds of them because they all look different.

He gets violent, but it's during sex first, he slaps your face and apologises because he's ‘just trying to keep you awake’ he swears. He buys you flowers the next day, and chokes you that evening, it becomes a vicious new cycle.

“Here I bought you chocolate” is cheap shit, but he carves his initials into your skin that night because "you fucking belong to him”

Then he tells you to sleep with his friends and you do. He laughs and calls you a slut and kicks you. “Anything for fucking drugs this girl”

His friends snicker and you sleep with them, the list of sins gets longer. Then one night after a year when your parents get redirected to the place you've been staying because this Christmas you haven't called to say you're coming back and also that expensive ivy league school just sent the third check back as you had dropped out.

They find you outside on a road away from his place, red foam out your mouth, eyes rolled back and bruised all over, your naked and your hair is knotted at the back, so you're rushed to hospital, you never tell them what happened, so they don't ask, no police report is filed, he gets away with what he's done.

What a Christmas gift you think, your mother says its a Christmas miracle and tells all her friends that you've basically been reborn. Your dad is distant like always, and you drink cranberry juice instead of wine at Christmas dinner, everyone pretends that everything is fine.

You think you were set up to fail from the start.

And yeah, you could say your life has gotten pretty unmanageable.

The doctor says you're lucky your parents found you, you had your stomach pumped in the ambulance, but you don't remember much.

Just pain, and a pure black sky.

And you start to miss him, it's been two weeks and he hasn't tried to contact you to apologies like he usually does and you think of the first night you met and how it felt like heaven, and how you couldn't move and speak and it was like you were trapped in your own head and how it didn't feel at all that nice, and how he was whispering ‘it's going to be alright, im just taking care of you’

And you're heartbroken all over again, but you're not allowed to drink so you wallow in your sadness sober, which is actually ridiculously boring and because you're sober you can't make drunk mistakes like kissing random old men or spending hundreds of dollars on a stupid bag, because drunk you would take a knife and stab him right in his heart so he knew how it felt.

You start to wish you died that night, because tattoos are fucking expensive and also you cant get yourself to cover his mark because that would mean someone else would see it there and everything would be true.

So you sit at home and think and cry and cry some more, and then you pack for rehab.

But rehabs over now, and AA, NA, SAA (because sleeping around for drugs is actually considered a sex addiction? And not prostitution? yeah right!), that's your life now, you're fully booked and sober.

It's five pm. You're driving an old Honda accord in silver because your dad thinks if you get drunk and crash the car it won't be a loss of money, have a little faith, your mum hands you three dollars to buy a coffee because apparently coffee is incredibly expensive now.

You pull over and buy a pack of cigarettes, you lean against your car, you breathe in the bitter death and think.

“Is it a sin to smoke next to a church?”

It can't be right?

You check your watch, five twenty five.

A black Chevy truck pulls up to your left, it actually looks ridiculous, its custom so whoever owns it is either extremely rich or stupid and poor.

Metallica blasts through the speakers, it's so loud you can't hear yourself think. The car door slams as you inhale the last of your cigarette. You look up for half a second, but you find yourself gazing at him for a second too long.

He looks back, he nods and smiles at you.

You scoff, stamping out your cigarette.

He follows you into the church.

———————

Eddie's famous, stupidly famous. Old men know who he is famous, and hot women.

Eddie is famous as fuck and rich and an addict.

You know how it starts, smoke a bit of weed in high school, drink a couple of beers. One minute you're trying cocaine for the first time and the next your manager is hand cuffing you to your bed-frame because you have a tendency to get drunk and fuck and destroy the hotel room.

So yeah maybe Eddie spiralled out of control on tour and passed out on stage and then decided to get in the passenger seat with his friend, and take control of the steering wheel, and well you probably know the rest right? you've heard it all before, you've seen it in the papers.

"RICH WHITE ROCKSTAR GETS FUCKING DRUNK AND KILLS LIKE A MILLION PEOPLE!!!!!"

Okay so not exactly that.

On parole for a year, Licence revoked for two. Three years in and he starts making music again, four years sober and all he has is an extreme nicotine addiction, an over customised truck, and bandmates who hate him. But that's rock and roll baby, all the stars nearly kill their friends.

Eddie goes to NA and AA meetings every week, technically he's forced too but he likes listening to rich white mens sob stories, how they were bankers by day and coke addicts by night, because it's so tragic how they cheated on their wives with strippers, boo hoo! Eddie likes to play a game for sympathy, someone tells their sob story about losing a dog because they were drunk and Eddie talks about how his friend was in a coma for half a year.

And so Eddies pulls into the church hall parking lot, and he notices the young lil thing leaning against her car inhaling a cigarette like it's her job, and she dressed somewhat weirdly. In Fact she looks so out of place, she's wearing beige but not in a cool 90s grunge way. More in the way that her mum dressed her this morning, her mum being rich and suburban, married her husband for money.

He switches the truck off, and metallica fades out immediately. He steps out the truck, the car door slams, he stretches, his chest aimed for the sky and he looks at her. He nods and sends her a cheeky smile.

He waits for her reaction but she stares and scoffs , stamping out her cigarette, her eyes roll and she pulls the sleeves of her overly expensive knit jumper down.In the colour of beige, but the store probably calls it caramel coffee creamer or gingerbread cookie fall and even worse cinnamon roll icing, coconut shredded chocolate. Or if it's even higher end, sand one. He follows behind her. Noticing her stained black converse, bloodied, scuffed.

Her mum had definitely dressed her.

———————

The church hall is cold, it always has been.

There's a circle of chairs in the middle of the room, and a table with coffee cups and cheap plastic wrapped muffins, there's four men in suits in the room they’re sweating and you make eye contact with what you think is your mom's friend, she looks away quickly, and then there's the weird army guy with a sign in sheet that your pretty sure came to your high school to warn you about the dangers of drugs and alcohol.

You tell him your name and curl up on a plastic seat with a cold cup of coffee. You sip carefully, staring ahead as the curly headed freak pulls up a chair to your right.

“Nice sweater”

You raise an eyebrow and look him up and down, he's wearing a black fitted shirt and blue jeans covered in tattoos.

“It's my mums” you stare at him in the eye, “can you tell?”

“Where are your clothes then?”he points to your chest and meets your eyes.

“I don't know, probably in a skip somewhere rotting, like everything else”

He grins, “You're so cynical” he looks over to the woman next to him “How are you doing today Joan? How are the kids?”

Joans face flushes, and stares at your face,” Oh Eddie, i'm doing fine thank you, Heathers graduating college soon, only a couple of months”

“They grow up so fast, huh”

There's a moment of silence, Eddie leans back in his chair smiling, the business men talk about stocks or money or whatever they actually do, and the big army guy sits down in a chair, his legs spread, muscles bulging.

“Hello, I'm Steve and i'm an alcoholic!"

“Hi Steve” we chant back.

“It's been about seventeen years now, since i had a sip of beer, and i've been thinking, seventeen years, that's nearly a high school graduate, my soberness could drive, next year it could join the army, and every day i think to myself what is this for? myself ? My wife? My kids? “ he sighs

“No, being sober is for myself, i've owned up to my actions, i've accepted god into my life, i've made amends, and now? I go for dinner with my wife and while she has wine I have soda, my kids party and I can pick them up safely, and help them, but I'm happy to help.”

Steve goes on for what seems like hours, but you keep your eye on the clock and only minutes pass, you don't actually know what he's trying to say but you nod along anyway.

“We have a newcomer today, you've probably noticed her. So be nice, why don't you introduce yourself darling?”

You say your name, and they chant it back at you, they wait for you to speak.

“I got out of rehab like a-week ago, and all I could think while being there while they braided my hair and made me pick weeds out of bushes is how I would've rather died from my overdose than be there.” you pause, and the room fills with a flood of sympathy, it's thick in the air, there's a shuffling of feet.

“And like, everyones been telling me to own up to my actions, like it was my fault? Like I went to college and then decided to get hooked on drugs?” you smile but your eyes don't.

There's a scoff on your right, you look at him.

“oh sorry did you want to say something?”

“Look sweetheart, we’re all here for a reason, part of recovery is owning up to your actions” Eddie smiles softly like he's just said the biggest revelation ever .

You nod at him, “yeah i guess you're right, next time someone loads me up with ketamine and rapes me i’ll remember it was my own fault” you stand up straight coffee knocked up and on the floor.

“because I was asking for it, right?”

You drag your chair painfully slowly and it scrapes along the floor, making that awful sound.

You rush out of the building to your car, slamming the door and hitting the steering wheel. You look over at the truck on your left and contemplate.

Fuck it

You get out the car, keys in your hand and you scrape them along his car door , in jagged edges.

Shit. You panic. Can you go to prison for this? you've just vandalised a seemingly harmless guy's car.

“Did you just key my truck?” He's behind you, and you turn to see his face.

“No” you shake your head.

“I just watched you do it, why are you lying?” he questions

“Because ,I-” you sigh“ i've got to much fucking anger and i don't know what to fucking do with it” your lip tremors.

“Im stupid. So fucking stupid, and yeah everything is my own fucking fault, i could have filled a fucking police report, but i was so fucking naive, i found him in a club the next night and slept with him again, and suddenly i'm lying in my own filth waiting to die because ive been rotting away in his apartment for god knows how long, so he loads me up with drugs and leaves me on the side of the road and i think, this is it i'm finally going to fucking die. I'm twenty one and my life is already fucked.”

The wind howls, and the parking lot lights flicker on as it gets darker.

You look up at him “I'm sorry i keyed your car”

“It's fine, i'm stupidly rich and hate it anyway” Eddie mutters.

You smile.

“I want to be your sponsor”

“Huh?” your eyebrows raise "after I keyed your car?"

‘Yeah and well it's me or Joan, and Joan just speaks about her kids so, I'd be helping you out ”

“Joans actually my mom's friend”

“Oh, I get it,” Eddie sighs, fiddling with his keys.

You pause, looking at his brown eyes, you think about what they would've looked like blood shot.

“Can I get your number then? Because Heather was a real bitch to me in high school so i'd rather not hear about her success story”

A/N: hello I got bored and started writing, and this i what I wrote, i am terrible at proof reading by the way so I will give you a kiss if you tell me all my mistakes xxxx

#eddie munson x reader #dark eddie munson #famous eddie munson #rich reader #90s au #recovering addict au #stranger things x reader #stranger things but not strange #heavy topics #what the actual fuuuuuck #slightly older Eddie #eddie munson #edward munson

105 notes · View notes

hotvampireadjacent · 2 months

Text

Ok so. Um. As I’ve said my parents don’t know about the snake and are against it. I kinda thought I’d have moved out by now but haven’t. So I knew I would have a dilemma: how am I gonna explain getting a giant clearly reptile cage in the mail.

I primed them up by getting permission for a bearded dragon. So when I get the beardie and they see him in the smaller tank (ofc I’ll buy an adult sized one for him too.) I can say “oh bc he’s a baby he’ll be in here when he’s an adult. (A lie) (he will get his own 4x2X2 but when he’s an adult. Not one for Milky Way)

28 notes · View notes

callilouv · 1 year

Note

I hope u get better soon c:

Thank uu :D

#ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ mail received #ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ milky #I’m taking some medicine rn www #rlly hope that the cough goes away bc clearing my throat every second is getting annoying HDJSBX

1 note · View note

shark-myths · 23 days

Note

🍓 🥤 🌿 for the ask game!!!! <333

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?

one of my favorite k facts tbh. i invented fanfiction at jesus camp with my new friend eden. we clutched each other on a hillside while a god rock band performed below, puffy with mosquito bites and illicit ideas, and whispered to one another of the members of our mutual favorite band, what if they kissed each other? we were 13 years old. camp was so in-the-middle-of-nowhere you could see the whole milky way at night, the thickness of it. the grass got wetter and wetter the longer you sat in the dark, hiding from the flashlights of your counselors. every few breaths you'd see a shooting star, til you were numb to marvel, til that was just what the night sky looked like and you expected it everywhere. it was magic and no one had ever thought of it before, boys in bands kissing. when we went home to our separate cities, i started handwriting fic (decorated with gel pen! this was the year 2003) and mailing it to her in hot pink envelopes. imagine my surprise when i discovered the internet.

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

one of my favorite fics i ever read was a girl!one direction story about squirting. here it is: you change, water sea by got2ghost

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

love this question, as someone who has struggled in the workplace to maintain the same creative energy i had access to in school.

for creativity: read. read endlessly. try to understand on a granular, sentence-and-word-level, why you like the things you like; what makes a line funny, what makes a line scary, what draws you in to a writer's style vs pushes you out of it. what do the books you can't put down have in common? read things that challenge you--long-form novels, old novels, things way outside your preferred genres. and try to have lots of experiences in the time you aren't writing. try new things! paint something, walk down a block you've never been on, look in people's windows, cook a new meal, get coffee at a new place, go for a drive, listen to someone else's favorite record, listen to a record you hate actually, go to a new store and just look around, touch fabrics, dance, have conversations, travel for no reason, watch videos on youtube about new skills you don't intend to master. READ NONFICTION, especially essays. try to avoid doing the same things you're comfortable with or things that feel easy for a whole afternoon. bury yourself in sensation. chase pleasure. let yourself play.

for writer's block: write anyway--in a journal, in your fragmented notes file with ideas, edit or polish something that's already written, get one sentence out. i like to set a timer for 20 minutes and give it a proper try (this means staying off tumblr and my phone) and then, if it doesn't lead to anything, i'm off the hook guilt-free, because i made an effort. try writing in a different notebook, with a different pen, in a different place, even in a different font on your computer. set yourself challenges like, write a 100 word story. write a specific type of poem like a villanelle. respond to a prompt or create one for someone else. if there's a part of the story--or a different story--that feels more easeful to write and you're just trying to get there, skip to that part. to be quite honest, writing in a notebook away from technology is the #1 thing that helps me just keep moving. it breaks me out of distraction and perfectionism cycles. it feels good to fill pages, even if it's with words you don't even up using.

the other part is, accept that our brains won't do what they won't do. great writing is not created by use of force. the biggest thing i have learned about myself is that if i can't write, there's something wrong. maybe the characters in my story aren't making sense, maybe the plot is boring and readers will be just as bored as i am, maybe i need to go back and rewrite something to end up in a better place for the next scene, maybe i need a week off from a story because i'm burned out on it and i should write something else or nothing at all. but most often there's not something wrong with the story--there's something wrong with my life. i don't have the time or the energy; i'm giving too much of the best parts of myself to the wrong thing; i'm trying to write at the wrong time of day for my energy level; i checked my email first and now my concentration is entirely shot; i need to work fewer hours if i want to write more; i need more help around the house if i want to write more; i need to just let it be dirty for a while and skip my chores if i want to write more, etc. figuring out what you need to actually feel like writing--learn to feel that again!--and making it possible to set other things, even important things, aside in order to write when you feel it, is so huge for me. making a commitment to the practice of writing and not the product of it. if you're doing that, you can relax. take care of yourself and fix the imbalances in your life. the ideas will come. writing is organic and we are organisms. given space and time, things will always change from how they are right now. let yourself and your creative practice ebb and flow when it needs to instead of forcing it to be something it's not.

thank you for the ask darling sorry i ranted at you for twenty fucking minutes!!!

#asks #ask game #on writing #writing #thank you lovely!!!

19 notes · View notes