#TW: Drug Use

[princesssunderworld]

Trigger warning-

Drug alcohol and sobriety talk

I’m late to this fic but I want you to know that I appreciate you writing about recovery and sobriety.

It makes me so happy that this is helping you and you can share. It’s helping me.

October was my 2 year mark with alcohol. 6 months off adderall. The withdrawal from the adderall are still lingering the shaking is killing me.

I hope you know this is very appreciated and I admire you for writing about it. There are not a lot of fics on this topic.

ugly cravings.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: rhett is there through the testing moments of your recovery.

￫ c/w: drug and alcohol use, recovery, cravings, swearing and sobriety.

￫ a/n: as i go through recovery, i’ve found it comforting to myself to write these pieces. i hope you enjoy it and it provides any level of comfort to you as well! <3 my ‘sobriety’ masterlist can be found here! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Rhett placed your dinner plate that was brewing with noodles and well cooked vegetables on the kitchen table in front of you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you thanked him before he sat down next to you, making a start on his own dinner in front of him. You scrunched your fingers in and out of your palms to steady your tremors before you picked up the chopsticks.

Your dexterity was wobbling as you poised the chopsticks to grab at the Chinese inspired dinner below you. You just about got two mouthfuls when you huffed out a deafeated laugh and dropped them to the table. “Can you get me a knife and fork please, cowboy?”

“Sure, darlin’.” Rhett fetched you a knife and fork with no hesitation and placed yet another light kiss to your forehead. Your new set of utensils made eating far more compliant as your hand vibrated. You both ate in peace, occasionally humming in pure bliss at how good it tasted and you complimented Rhett endlessly.

You didn’t notice his fleeting glances down at your hands. The domesticated silence was peaceful, but Rhett finally spoke up. “You know your support worker said this would happen, m’ love. You’re at three months, your body is adjustin’. It’ll stop soon, baby.” He reached over and gently squeezed at your quivering hand to guide your attention to what he was lovingly reassuring you about.

Your lips quirked upwards into a loving smile and you brought the back of Rhett’s hand, through shaky movements, to your lips, placing a grateful kiss to his worn hands.

One week later and Rhett crawled into bed next to you just gone midnight. You sank back a couple of beers at the bar, that was it. You could handle this. You had practiced it over and over, time and time again. It would be fine-

Until it wasn’t.

It always started in your fingertips and toes. A horrible twitch that anyone else would call, “a nervous twitch.” The ever growing feeling creeped up your nerve endings of your limbs and made them restless under the linen sheets against Rhett’s own limbs. It spread through your ribs and fisted at your ever beating heart, which was now pounding faster with every passing second. The all consuming feeling reached its ugly peak when it crawled up your throat and twitched through your nostrils, making your gums ache. It was a scratch that could never be scratched. Never reached. Never satisfied.

You were too consumed to notice Rhett shifting behind you and propping himself up on his elbow. “Sweetheart?” His voice, laced with the beginnings of sleep, cut through the dark of your room and called you back to him.

You grunted in response and shifted against him continually. “Fuck, shit. R-Rhett,” you stammered through gritted teeth, “m’ fuckin’ craving.”

There was a further shift from Rhett behind you and eventually his bedside lamp was illuminating your bedroom. “C’ ere, m’ love.” Rhett sat up against the headboard and pulled you flush against his bare chest. Your body wouldn’t stop withering and squirming under his grasp. The all possessing feeling of craving was wracking your body and making your muscles twitch and thrash against him. You could hear Rhett quietly shushing in an gentle attempt to pull you through this. He could feel the feeble groans of your frustration vibrate against his flesh.

“I know, darlin’, I know. C’ mon, you can do this, baby. Fifteen more minutes and you know the cravin’ will pass. ‘ere,” Rhett brought the tips of his fingers to your lips and you held onto them, pressing them firmly against your gums to relieve some of the ache. In between, you gently nibbled on them to soothe yourself. “There y’ go, angel. You’re doin’ so good for me. I’ve got you, my sweet girl.”

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch

[happy-lemon]

Na na na na na na na na Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na ~ Chance the Rapper, 2013

This is your brain on drugs.

[hmyrine]

on everyone's soul this is what happened

[machinecatgirl]

ELECTROCHEMISTRY

[comatosebunny09]

— cw: drug use, brief talk about dying, comfort, bad trip, you’re high af and sylus is your babysitter

“Sylus?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I love you.”

He chuckles, thumb cruising over the skin of your wrist. His chin notched in the crown of your head, he rasps, “I know you do.”

“No, like, seriously. I love you.”

“I’m well aware. You’ve told me at least 30 times in the last hour.”

You shift, slowly blinking like you’re moving through syrup. Your head swirls, a smile creeping onto your lips at a sluggish pace. “I’ll tell you a thousand more.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs. “Sweetie, what exactly did you take?”

“Dunno. It had a skull and bones on it, though.”

He gives you a look. One of furrowed brows and exasperation. “I’m not letting you buy anything from shady smoke shops ever again.”

“Deal.”

Sylus laughs something low, rubbing up and down your arm. You nuzzle into the safety his chest provides, the world around you churning. “Sylus,” you call against closed eyes.

“Mmhmm.”

“What if I die tonight?”

Snort. “Sweetie, you’re not going to die.”

“I know, but…what if I do?”

“I won’t let you. I’ll drag you down from the heavens myself.”

“Who says I’m going to heaven?”

He’s quiet, genuinely thinking it over. “Fair point.”

You whack him on the chest, and he chuckles because it’s half-hearted.

“I don’t feel so good, Sy.” The edible’s slowly cresting from its peak, but you’re still teetering over that thin line between sobriety and lucidity.

He holds you tight on the bed until you’re practically cradled in his lap. “Try sleeping it off.”

“I’m scared to. So sleepy but I don’t wanna sleep.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” you ask, your voice husky and weighted with exhaustion.

“Promise.”

You believe him and sink further below the surface, letting sleep wash over you in waves and eventually pull you under.

[owlyhouse]

hey i totally didnt forget about this blog (forgot)

[moxtoons]

Just two ghouls who like big hats, frock coats, and chems.

[scottishaccentsareawesome]

Jason(who is high):...They say if you play this backwards you can hear the voice of a dead kid. Dick(also high): Whoa...wait, how do you play Monopoly backwards?

[gearbroth]

didn’t plan on posting this really ever sdjkfha but today’s an excuse so whatever

[milesmarek]

I rewatched days of future past and I realized charles fucking fiending over the serum flew over my head as a 12 year that it was a reference to heroin usage in the 70's.

Also I had to explain to my mother the extravagant details of cherik and how they act like a divorced couple to which she said "god forbid if two guys be friends" and when I said both sets of actors like cherik, she decided it's gay as fuck

[revehae]

i’m not asking you to write for wonbin but if you ever do js know i wiillllll be there !

yall have finally did it yall have won yall have Cracked me i hope youre happy bc i kinda am… i had this idea before he cut his hair now im feeling like that one harry styles fan tweet and i don’t even stan fr

warnings: drug use, addiction, is this dubcon idk

wc. 670

dealer!wonbin x (f) rich!reader.

wonbin knew you wouldn’t turn down his offer. not in the state that you were in, moody and tense as ever. the girl he’d seen around here and there at parties hadn’t come back around, not since he’d first seen her bump a line or two, and she’d been replaced by you.

what you had become over the months, at least.

not that wonbin would have it any other way. he liked having you kind of dependent on him, knowing he was the first person crossing your mind when you needed a fix. but the brief interactions, meeting you at a party or somewhere shady at night, your car window rolling up as quickly as it had gone down, weren’t enough anymore.

“no.”

“no?” you repeated, like the entitled, spoiled rich girl you really were deep down. wonbin had to give you credit, you cloaked it well, but when you were desperate, you showed your true colors. “what do you mean no?”

wonbin grinned playfully, in a way that he knew would aggravate you. “i mean, i set everything aside for my buddy, and i don’t have enough for you right now.”

you rubbed your nose and ran a finger through your hair, exhaling exasperatedly. “well, tell him to wait. i need it more than he does! is he paying you? i’ll pay you twice as much!”

there you went, offering him your pocket money, throwing it away like it was nothing just for a second of your high. but wonbin didn’t need your money. selling cocaine to recklessly needy addicts like yourself was a very lucrative business.

he shook his head. “sorry, that’s not gonna cut it. but i thought of something better.”

you were in the middle of losing what was left of your mind when wonbin said that and your eyes immediately snapped back to him, fixed to him before he could even get the words completely out.

“i’ll give you two grams if you let me fuck you,” wonbin said casually, a wild grin tugging at his lips. “six grams if you let me do it raw.”

you were a little reluctant at first, but wonbin wasn’t surprised when you finally caved, thinking to himself, that was too damn easy.

because he was nice, wonbin let you snort a line before he touched you, but he was on top of you not a second later. in spite of that, he didn’t move like he was in any particular hurry, snaking a hand up your shirt and pressing his lips against your lips. then your neck, your collarbone, your belly. almost affectionately, almost.

it started to work you up quickly, and you even got annoyed, tugging at his hair, but wonbin didn’t care. matter of fact, he could feel his body getting hotter, burning a thousand degrees. he wanted to savor every second of you, every touch of you, every smell of you.

wonbin really liked the smell of you. the sweet scent helped masked the madness underneath when you were like this. he leaned in to sniff your hair, your neck, your clothes, your hands.

it made his dick twitch in his pants and he couldn’t control himself anymore, yanking it free so that he could steer himself between your open, inviting legs, moaning shakily and blowing his hair out of his eyes as he pushed into you. 

knowing that only a few months ago, your dignity would have never let you consent to something like this, wonbin almost felt bad. he may have sold the drugs, but he never touched them otherwise. too many people he had seen wind up like you, selling themselves out for a moment of ecstasy.

but he wasn’t so different. your cunt squeezed and throttled the life out of his cock. sweat was the reason your body clung to his. you were muttering his name, dragging red lines down his back with your fingernails. and for the time being, there was nothing wonbin wouldn’t do for his moment of ecstasy.

[pierpointco]

RR: Like a bat up your nightdress.

[xstarkillerx]

Rail

TW: Drug usage

Drabble based on this ask.

Dom toretto x fem!reader x Brian O'Conner

hop hop 🐇

Long, fat, red at the tip, Dom Toretto's cock is hot in your hands. The heady scent of musk, of body, of a long day working the garage and even longer night putting that RX-7 to work fills your lungs as you rail the line he so graciously laid for you on it. He's got one of his massive hands on your head, heavy, warm, thumb stroking your head affectionately while your swipe your nostrils, eyes squeezed shut at the momentary discomfort. On the other couch is Brian, eyes furrowed, keeping cautious, never really able to drop the cop in him that's ready to jump in if he needs to. He's got a half-smoked blunt burning away in his hand that has him too high to not be laced with something. Despite himself, despite the bizarre circumstance, Brian's fucking hard too.

"That good?" Dom asks, and with powder still on your nose. You look up at him with those pretty eyes like that line wasn't enough and you can squeeze more outta him if you're sweet enough about it. He gives a fond half-smile, his little fucking junkie. Dom swipes at your nose, collecting the powder with his thumb like a father with a snotty child. He does the same with the residue on his cock before invading your lips with the large digit and spreading it on your gums. Your tongue chases it, already feeling the way it makes the thin skin tingle. He watches your pupils change, watches the coke kick in and, fuck, that's the part that always gets him, makes his dick twitch. Corruption. Corruption and pretty young girls who just just can't help but look up to him, trust him, let him lead them astray. He remembers Letty, the way she watched him down the street her whole life, wanted nothing more than to get Dom's attention until she learned this was what you need to do to get it. She had that same look in her eye that first time, wild, hungry fucking ready to go. He's a sucker for it.

Your skin is hot, your heart is racing, you feel like you can fly. You shove Dom's cock in your mouth and almost too eagerly and swallow him down your throat, earning a hiss from Dom through gritted teeth. You can't see it but Dom's looking at Brian and suddenly you're a prop, a toy, like all the other pretty things he uses to get his rocks off. The air is thick between them, scored by the wet gagging sounds of your throat. Tears well up in your eyes when Dom starts fucking your face, hips moving off the couch to shove it deeper down your throat and back out again, you grasp at his thighs for purchase. Brian and Dom are locked in eye contact, Brian is breathing heavy, fingers twitching to to free his cock from his boxers but his limbs feel heavy and sluggish.

Gasping and drenched in your own spit, Dom pulls you off his cock before he cums and uses what saliva you left on it to jerk himself off. "Where'd you want it?" His voice is low, slurred with lust and his own cocktail of chemicals in his system. He doesn't normally ask you this, you know he likes coating your face, likes the mess it makes, the way your features skew when you try to keep it out of your eyes. The question wasn't for you. He isn't even looking at you.

Brian blinks slowly, his head tingles with every movement and his eyes are heavy. "Tits." he says simply through his laboured breathing. Dom complies, and Brian's hips twitch at the sight of your pretty chest coated in his cum.

Desperate to take back the attention of the room you stand from where you were kneeling and lean in and capture Dom's lips in a sloppy kiss, the spit on your face smearing against his skin. You can't help but whine at the feeling of his warm tongue against your own. His fingers find your cunt and he isn't gentle about it; rough and thick he spreads your wetness before shoving them inside. You whine and are forced onto your tip-toes for a moment. Dom breaks the kiss.

"Look at him." he says, directing your gaze over at Brian who can't take his eyes off of you. He's since pulled the waist of his boxers down below his cock and is stroking it, slow, easy, shiny with the spit he shot into his own hand to slick it. "Go on." Your attention is brought back to Dom. "This pussy's greedy, I can feel it. You wanna get fucked? Go on." He slides his fingers out and sticks them in your mouth before sending you across the room to Brian who sits up out of his slouched posture to make more room for you on the couch. You straddle him, knees on either side of his waist and wait for him to guide his cock into position before you sink down on it, and christ, it's almost too much. The coke has your nerves on fire, the entrance alone was enough to get you moaning, but his voice, god his voice, the sound he makes when you get your pussy on him is what heaven must sound like.

"Fuck." he breathes, head spinning, every limb in his body tingling and sensitive, for someone who was so quiet before, he can't seem to shut up now, groaning and whining with every movement you make. It's a slow and easy fuck, too lost in the feeling of your pussy being filled to wanna rush it. Brian fills you up just right, hitting a spot inside you that makes you double over and grab the backrest behind him just to stay upright, it puts your cum-coated tits in his face which he happily sucks on until they're clean, sore and purple. Your orgasm rolls in slow, with the promise of hitting like a giant wave, full body, and it makes you go faster to chase it. Brian is barely containing himself, hands at your waist, staring up at your pretty face while he does everything he can to hold onto his orgasm until you find yours. It's the way you clench when you're close that sends him over, he cums just before you do, enough to where you get the pleasure of hearing his ragged voice cry out while you fuck down on his now sensitive cock. His body is limp, like all life has left it, shot into your body with the cum that's oozing out of your cunt.

Sweaty, placid, hoping for another line you look behind you at Dom who's already making his way over to the couch you share with Brian. He sits down and pulls you in for another dirty kiss, right there, while Brian's still got his cock in you, and with the guidance of Dom's hand, Brian forms a half-tight fist on Dom's cock to stroke it until he cums again. You clean it off of his fingers when he does.

🐇 hop hop

[harveywritings92]

Sole, to Hancock: Do you have any skeletons in your closet?

Hancock, takes a hit of jet: You mean literally or figuratively?

Sole: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

[why-i-love-comics]

Poison Ivy/Swamp Thing: Feral Trees #1 (2024)

written by G. Willow Wilson art by Mike Perkins & Mike Spicer

[sebsxphia]

tw: drug and alcohol usage and addiction.

although i have been drug free for nearly two years, i’m coming to terms with quitting drinking altogether. within my near two years of sobriety from drugs, i’ve been able to also reduce my drinking and be able to have a couple of pints at the pub and then go home. but i don’t even want to do that anymore. recently i can see myself nearly lapsing and i’ve made this decision for the good of my health and my mental health. i can tell i’m about to get sick and this is gonna be fucking hard physically and mentally, but i haven’t voiced this anywhere and i just needed to. i think sharing it here first will give me the confidence to tell my worker. thank u for listening. <3