#i found some weed/roaches

[713-4th-ward-g]

.

[aspergerasparagus]

I would like to humbly offer Lucky a monster joint of that sweet zaza, that straight gas, that devil's lettuce, some dummy strain weed, it'd even let him eat the roach that's left to get 20% higher. Fuck it, give that man a whole prescription for it cause he earned it

Frankie found out and they spent the next 3 hours hiding from him.

Plus bonus as I tried to draw it digitally but I didn't have the ability to finish it.

[almondamaretto]

hii i loved ur crossfaded story, do u think u could do some stoner matt bf hcs? 🫶🫶

YESSSSS omg girl u have good taste

i was looking for an excuse to write ts. also not proofread!! and not good because i was high!!

stoner!matt x afab!reader

warnings: use of weed, smut

— ok lets get one thing straight, this man is one of those deep thought, random fact stoners that make you rethink everything about the world.

— "who decided that the alphabet was in alphabetical order? maybe we wanted e first, yknow?"

— always has at least one joint or the makings for one joint on him at all times. not as bad as chris who i would imagine carries around like 2-3 all the time.

— i would give anything to see this man rolling a fuckin joint.

— feels like an unpopular opinion i'm not sure, but he definitely thinks watching his girl roll one is hot. especially if you're not as experienced as him, yet still make an effort to try and impress him.

— if you're a stoner, he's buying you cute shit. cute papers, a cute grinder, lighters and stash boxes.

— is either non-verbal while high or actually yapping with no in between, but the simple truth his, he wants to be touching you at all times.

— imagine js sitting there, chatting his ear off, reflecting on your day n he's just staring, completely engrossed. meanwhile his fingers have been trailing up and down your thigh...

— or, he's running his mouth while taking a hold of your hand, leaving chaste kisses all over your hand, face, neck, and lips, only quiet whilst doing so.

— would def always be down to smoke w you, he could never say no to his sweet girl.

— loves to smoke in a group with his brothers, closest friends, and you cause he is a big quality time guy, but there is something so satisfying about being alone with you, watching the way you move through the haze filling the room.

— i think he would get more jealous while under the influence, you just look so good and he knows what every other guy is thinking.

— he is obviously very touchy and needy when he's high, but he also speaks in such an insatiable way, voicing all his dirty thoughts with no reserve.

— "and that's when- wow i can't shut up" "i could think of a few ways to shut you up."

— and you're gagged. figuratively and literally.

— one day, the friend group is at a party or some type of event. you and matt are nowhere to be found though, tucked away in some large room behind a locked door, the window cracked open.

— the roach of a used up joint was thrown onto the bedside table, hands now busy with pulling each other impossibly closer.

— he had pulled you up onto his lap, large hands gripping your ass as you pressed against his hard-on. your lips were quickly pressed together in sloppy kisses, your hands exploring his torso enthusiastically, his grazing up your sides and ass.

— "you were sittin' so pretty down there for me doll. did you really expect me to not pay attention?"

— he grumbles out while his lips ghost over your neck. you practically melt into his hands.

— chris came banging on the door, talking about something neither of you had interest in. matt never faltered in his movements, continue to squeeze your ass and nibble on your neck and chest.

— "matt!" "shh, stay quiet for me baby, he'll leave soon."

— when chris persists, he's groaning loudly and laying you gently on the bed, leaving a final kiss to your lips. he swings the door open to reveal only himself, blood-shot eyes and lip gloss smeared over his lips. his hair was jostled every which way, chest heaving slightly.

— chris just grins and shakes his head, mumbling something to matt that undoubtedly makes him roll his eyes.

— "nick and i wanna go to this other party madi's going to, you gotta drive us."

— he immediately refuses and goes to shut the door, but somehow chris convinces him with the reasoning of "less people means less chance someone tries to barge in."

— side note, you always get whichever seat you want and aux when matt's driving, it makes the other two go insane.

— mornings when you both don't have anything important to do or wake up a little earlier than usual, he wants to do two things.

— 1. wake and bake

— 2. morning sex.

— i mean seeing you first thing in the morning, getting high, and then fucking you dumb? thats his own personal heaven.

— it's doesn't take long for you to end up face down whimpering into a pillow while he drills into you from behind, senses heightened by the drug.

— he's struggling himself to keep quiet, opting to let out small grunts and whimpering into your ear, otherwise biting his lip to stay quiet.

— you fill all of his senses so well, your sounds sounding so heavenly to him, your walls squeezing him so well while he thrusts into your tight cunt.

— "doing so good for me mama, takin' me so well." he strains out as he gets close. you're both especially sensitive, highs coming all too soon.

so sorry if this is bad y'all 😭

[sintiva]

cw: eren has bad anxiety and anger issues, a little angst, penetrative sex, nipple play, grinding, cowgirl, lmk if i missed anything !

notes: the first request i’ve done in ages, i hope it’s not too long (it is), and it’s definitely written differently compared to other things, but do enjoy, (the ending was rushed shoot me )🫰🏽 feedback appreciated!

connie threw thee biggest and best parties known to man. they were always a vibe, and if you weren’t in attendance, you were missing everything that went on, on campus. hookups, new faces, more drama, and the best weed to float around campus. connie made sure everything was in order, and most important to him besides his friends, good drinks and pretty girls, was weed.

“yo, where’s eren at?” connie asked as he smoked on a roach. he was nearly out of weed, and his party had only just begun, and per usual eren was late as fuck. the roach burnt his fingers and lips, but he was desperate and he held on to what little he had left.

“probably out with some other bitch.” you snapped. connie chuckled and fixed his hand around your waist. you sat on his lap, and he fondled every inch of you. your thighs, your tits, your ass. he wouldn’t admit it, but connie springer, was fucking sprung when it came to you, and the one time you let him tap, he came… too quick.

his eyes were extremely low, he was faded, slowly treading the line of being cross faded, and you looked too damn good. “why’d you say it like that, ma?”

“hmmm, no reason. it’s just what i’m thinkin’, and we both know it’s the truth. that’s your friend ain’t it? ” you tick your tongue, and lower your gaze to the fiend who just won’t quit stroking your skin; hand skimming freely under your dress, fingers grazing so closely to your panties! down to your slit, thumb poking at it.

n-not out here.

he smirks and lowers the tempo; it was all just to make you squirm on his lap. he’s trying to hint at you — let you know that their is something lingering. your nips perk up and and like thin air, the topic of eren evaporated. just like that.

just that quickly, he was forgotten. so there you were in the back of this party, so close to being fingered on a couch as you straddled connie’s lap. so far in the back, so drunk. not even aware of how quickly you straddled connie’s thighs. how quicky he tossed the roach aside, focused on your dress, pulling the neck of it down, so he could sit up and suck on your tits in the back of the party.

“c-connie, someone — he might see us.”

connie heard he, and instantly didn’t give a fuck. he, was eren, who was somehow appearing as a fuzzy hue in the back of your mind.

“and? when’s that ever stopped us, mamas?” his lips found purchase in your skin. the sweetness, the butteriness; his lips tracking your skin made his dick leak ad throb in his sweats, and you practically straddled the tip of it anyway.

what started as innocent playing and kisses turned into you full on grinding on him in the back — his hands were cupping your ass, and he was carrying you back and fourth on his dick; through the cloth it was more than enough. you both knew were things were going, but neither of you wanted to stop, nor had the intentions to.

until… connie felt you levitate off the couch, his lap still cold, and loud arguing, waking him up from whatever delusions were running through his head. he blinked a couple of times, smacked his cheeks, shook his head to clear any and all thoughts that he just had of you. the weed and drinks have long settled in his system. he was totally unaware of the mini altercation that was occurring between you and…

“eren, what the fuck.”

“what the fuck my ass, you don’t see how he’s staring at you right now? he’s practically eye fucking you and you like that stupid shit?”

“first off, i don’t know who you’re yelling at like you’re someone’s father. second of all, you be out all day and when i text you, you don’t respond to nothing and now you pop up like a fucking lunatic. i don’t owe you anything eren.”

“you’re joking right?” you scoff, completely baffled.

“i will tell you time and time again, i don’t care how big you think you are, you will calm the fuck down when it comes to me.”

and there he goes. blunt in between his fingers, faded, eyes red and low. all black fit, hair down those silver rings <3. “i leave you alone for one da—“

“and that’s the problem, we had plans today and you forget about them.”

“y/n, i texted you three hours ago telling you that something popped up and we’d have to push it to tonight or tomorrow evening.”

“when?”

“at around 4 o’clock.”

your nails tapped at your phone screen, and the moment your palms tightened around your sage green bubble case, you were met with the same text you were sure you sent three hours earlier with nothing after. no confirmations or anything.

“not a single text, reaction, or call, and to make it worse, it was for our anniversary.”

it was eren who looked dumb now, coming to the party causing a scene, forcing yet another stupid, pointless fight. another headache, another upset you and you walked away before he could get a word in, but your got yours in.

“you want me to be your partner, i do everything to make sure we’re good — always — but you can never be a decent human.”

wait y/n… baby—“ he throws his arm out to reach you.

i don’t care anymore. do what you want that’s what you always do anyways.

“it was an honest mistake.”

fuck!

you fixed your dress and simply walked away. with a couple twitches you were gone as quickly as he pulled you in. time and time again, he proves to fuck everything up.

it would seem as though he had countless things on his mind, but you were always at the back of it. and when i say always, you were always the one putting in more effort it seemed.

he flicked his blunt out his fingers and stepped on it. the flame died under the tip of his shoe, and beneath it a black circle of ash. “my floor??” connie’s mouth stretched; his arms flew up in the air, “i don’t give a fuck, stay away from y/n and we won’t have an issue.”

“like i’m the problem? when you figure your shit out you’ll realize i’m not the problem.” connie stood up rolled his eyes and held his hand out. “you’re not getting shit from me.”

the thing eren hated the most was a lecture; how big or small didn’t matter. getting told about himself was a total bust, and fucking things up with you was a consequence he’d always have to face.

the next few weeks were dreadful. eren felt like and looked like shit, but businesses was business. he had customers, deliveries and a shit ton of other things that filled his schedule. internally, he was collapsing, it was all too much. he couldn’t think clearly and he was just working and smoking himself to exhaustion.

but his delivery after the party, after watching you disappear in the crowd, fell through the floor.

nothing could stop him, not armin, not looking at pictures of you. standing outside of your door hoping you’d come downstairs to hop into his car to accompany him for his deliveries. eren’s anger was bubbling over, and the prime suspect was nobody but himself.

he had planned to deliver to connie the day after his party, because you wrote it into his calendar. you had his entire day written out in the calendar, to pick you up, go find somewhere to eat so y’all could have brunch, then you’d take your rightful position as his passenger princess; he’d drive a little ways out the city to go and deliver to connie.

for starters he was late, he didn’t have the usual brunch and he was strongly irritable. he didn’t get to sleep with you, or wake up to you, and all that anger was being channeled towards the wrong person.

305-245-6755

come outside to get your shit.

another thing that eren didn’t do was communicate with his clients, because he knew he’d lose his cool with them. for some reason they would all hit on you in awkward ways, so eren just lets you text them on his behalf. you would always draft a mass message to send out, it’d be all cute, typed with courtesy and delivered like a real business. today there was none of that.

eren sat in his car, wasteland on repeat, arm flung over his eyes to curb his headache. then came tapping against his window, courtesy of connie.

“about fucking time.”

eren rolled his window down and flung a plastic baggy filled with a scarce looking zip being the contents.

“what is this?”

“what you asked for?” eren shrugged his shoulders, and put his seatbelt on. “don’t play eren, this looks like a half at most.”

“i’m surprised you know that much.” eren reached for a blunt out of his pocket and lit it. he blew the smoke right in connie’s face. “since you know so much, use that brain of yours to not piss me off right now.”

there relationship has always been rocky. eren still hasn’t gotten over the fact that you two were once a thing, and whenever he sees y’all together it irks his nerves real bad. even after you tell him time and time again, your feelings for connie are long gone, but his still linger and tug at his heart.

“if this is about y/n, you can grow up. whatever shit y’all got going on, ain’t got nothing to do with me.”

“i know you still like them, and it’s not up for debate. you can either stay away from ‘em or find out.”

even put out his blunt because for some reason it wasn’t working to calm his nerves. it was getting him hotter than when he arrived the longer the conversation persisted.

the more connie countered, it triggered fight instead of resisting. he reached for his door handle, seething and as soon as be was about to pull it open connie’s friend came outside to see what all the commotion was.

“what’s going on?”

nothing eren snapped, vexed that he was really letting connie of all people get up under him like that. of course, it pleased him knowing that he got under eren’s skin, but that was all he had on him.

he rarely spoke to you anymore, and when you too would interact; the exchange’s would be short, inauthentic, almost scripted like you were never really interested.

“i’m out. don’t ask me for shit else.”

connie turned to his friend and shook that baggie in his face, “he’s delusional.”

eren sped home, tapping his fingers against the wheel, biting his lip, things were dreadful without you like experiencing a tropical storm with no shelter. he was thinking of stopping by your place, just to see it, just to make sure your car was there, and maybe your blinds would he open and he’d see you laid up in bed. so he swung by, but only for a short while, and it’s like he expected. peace.

he finally drove back to his place, car boxed, and his head banging. just a nagging feeling of ‘i fucked up and i need to talk to somebody’. the person he resorted to was none other than his best friend, armin. he gave him the whole run down, he told him everything from what happened last night at the party to what happened today. eren articulate ld his feelings perfectly, and at the end of it all armin gave him a simple answer, “you two just need space, it could be for a day, five, two weeks, a month.”

“if the love is there things will fix itself, if trust is reciprocated you both will come back to the other. y’all are both just hard headed and constantly clash.”

that’s all he could say and it seemed like it helped. there was a hint of worry. considering the fact that you two may give the other space, waiting for the moment the other would reach out first made him anxious. he didn’t like to wait, he was impatient.

which lead to him cracking first. he showed up to your door, severely high, psyched out and sweaty. it was afternoon time and you had just woken up. it’d been two weeks and the reality was you missed your boyfriend so much so that you just slept your days away to ease the thoughts, until he started visiting you in your dreams.

the next day was awkward for eren. he thought about what armin told him and figured it was time to visit you. when he pulled up to your place it still carried that same aura.

to say the least. you woke up with tissues around your bed, 16 text, 20 missed calls and the faint sound of someone calling your name and knocking on your door.

just like how it was a couple weeks ago. you saw eren in your notifications, in your dreams and on your ring doorbell app. ‘go away’ you mumble into your phones microphone.

his face lights up and he walks up straight into the camera’s frame, “don’t be like that, baby.” it were his first words he’s heard from you in weeks— he needed i. that evil man can pout once and place those pretty eyes right into the camera and it feels like you were ovulating.

i know you miss me, cause i’ve missed you.

and he wants you to know that, so he sings it like a sweet ballad, when you decide to let him in, like always. a sweet hug, wet kisses on your cheeks two big bouquets of your favorite flowers (apology notes written within each, your favorite m&ms, and some sweet talking secured himself into your place.

‘you know i wouldn’t do anything intentional to you. it was an honest mistake, trust me… let me make it up to you.”

“i planned a trip… just for the both of us — we can go anywhere you want.”

he holds your face in his hands, and gives you the softest look he could muster. he brings your face closer, tilts his head to the side and just licks your your lips with the tip of his tongue till you open up.

“let me kiss you, princess, pleaseeee.” he whines.

you kiss him back gently as if he did no wrong. hands thrown over his shoulders, fingers running through his air. through the kiss you could feel the smirk teasing at his lips, cause the both of you knew arguments fail each time. they never hold weight, and eren was already paying back his debt.

he pulled away nearly out of breath and lips glossed from saliva. “i sent you money already did you get it? for some clothes to get your hair done, nails and a little extra for whatever you need to get.”

“i didn’t see it — cause i blocked you and i know you had armin call my phone on your behalf.”

while you spoke he held onto you so tight. his lips were soft and smooth from the chapstick that transferred from his lips to yours.

“i know,” he chuckled and settled his hands behind your back. “you’ve always been like that.”

“ i have, but you can send me a little more to get unblocked though, and for almost fighting connie; min told me.”

his cheeks grew red out of sheer embarrassment, he knew armin would talk, but he didn’t think it’d be to that extent.

“of course he did. he can never keep his mouth shut.”

“it’s your fault, you can’t blame anybody else and you know better.”

he sighed and took out his phone, went to your name in his messages (the first and only pinned :)) , clicked the apple pay button and sent you an extra 900 on top of the 1,500 he sent you.

he showed you, his phone screen illuminated against your face and you immediately brightened up some more, that smile, those lips, everything he loved to see.

“see — happy now?”

“yes, but you seem happier than me.” he is, his stomach is bubbling with anticipation. he’s been a nervous wreck for the past two weeks.

you feel him straining against your thigh, “and you smoked before you came here, you don’t do that a lot, were you nervous to see me?” he squeezes tighter.

“i-it calmed me down.” he cleared his throat and squished your thighs. it would have to work since he didn’t have anything else to squeeze.

you switch your seating, over to his left thigh, you stroke his head, his pants. familiarizing yourself with his outline, applying enough pressure to his tip to make his thigh jump. “why are you so nervous ‘ren?”

“cause you’ve been the only thing on my mind for the past two weeks, and now my body just feels like super stimulated or whatever shit it is that you talk about…” an innocent blush creeps up his cheeks.

“i’ve been seeing you in my dreams and shit, i thought i would die if didn’t see you sooner.”

it would take you forever to admit that he too was in your dreams, cause they weren’t the most innocent one’s.

“you can be a real sweetheart when you let things out, you know, and when you’re being honest.”

he rolled his eyes, and fondled your skin. “it’s only cause of you, i don’t want to lose someone that makes me so happy.”

here he was making it up to you, with gifts and pleasure: a cocktail that never failed.

his words only made him dreamier, “you’re forgiven, just don’t leave me wondering again.” you place a soft peck on his forehead and flash a smile.

those dreams and longing lights guided your lips together again. they made you strip down to to nothing. he needed to see every inch of you cause two weeks was torture. he craved to feel how warm you got when you were on top. the two of you were so pent up, all that bundled up energy was spewing everywhere.

leading to his fingers circling your clit. slow circles that made you grind against them for more. your legs were spread over his thighs. he looked in your eyes to let you know he meant every word that he breathed, and he meant every action acted upon.

the longer you two twiddled your thumbs, the more he teased, the harder it got to resist. “i know you want to.” he whispered. 

you did. you really did. this whole time you could feel him poking at your ass. and you just needed to. you raised up off his lap and he made everything easier. you could feel all the stress leaving his body once you sunk down on him. every single inch throbbing the deeper he got.

“you want all of it?” he grabs your hips and gives you all of it. he bites his lip and winces.

“yesss,” you whisper in defeat, his plan worked he has you nipping at his lips. fingers stretching along your ass to get a nice, full grab, to hold onto you, to spread your cheeks so he can help you take every inch. “wait wait, let me do it.” you sigh into his mouth, twitching from feeling him in your guts. “too much?” he smiles and takes a nice hand-full of your ass and jiggles it.

“it’s enough for me.”

“cause you’re greedy.” you suck your teeth and giggle, “can you blame me?” he tilts his head; eyes roaming your face and body.

but he adjust his hands and lets you take control. your arms feel light around his neck, you take charge with slow bounces; it’s more of a grinding motion cause you just wanna cum, and feeling his hands roam all over your body encourages you on.

“ ‘rennn.” he’s infatuated. hands gliding all over you. playing with your tits, rolling your nipples in between his fingertips the hastier your pace becomes. “make yourself feel good.” he groans over and over then wraps his lips around your nipples and sucks. with every slurp around your chest he groans and tightens his grips on your hips. everything melts onto his tongue, your taste forever lasting. “oooh, erennn, ‘m gonna cum.” his head falls back as you squeeze him tight; your nipples and clit thumping from stimulation. the stimulation you get from your clit grazing against his stomach makes you desperately chase after your orgasm.

“me too.” he strains, his thighs dance around; head bobbing from side to side. being so pent up and high depleted his stamina.

you feel him throbbing harder in you as your grinding becomes more desperate and sloppy. he thrusts his hips up, your eyebrows knit and thighs tremble as you cum over and over on his dick, bringing him to his own, “good fucking pussy, baby.”

the steady rhythm of your ass clapping against his thighs felt like heaven. the constant squeezes to your ass boost your ego. his fingers sink into your ass cheeks to gain leverage to pound his self into you as your legs tremble from cumming.

after sex you two showered together, which led to more sex, and decided to watch a movie and order takeout. eren ended up falling asleep, so you decided to do his makeup and post it on twitter for your followers to see. the caption being, “ p***** his ass to sleep, now he calling my nyquil”, corny but it got the job done. that was a whole nother story when he woke up, but you decided you two were even, and the glam made him look even prettier.

[s-4pphics]

Hi babydoll, just thinking about having abby n ellie both at the same time, take that as u willllll🤭🤭 would love to see ur take on it. Ur thot thoughts have me droolin and shit every time I see em.

this has been on my mind since i got it. i’m high now. so here it is!!! everybody screamed and cheered!!! and nonnie ily

wc;cw: 800 or sum she’s wittle, threesome!!! yaaaay, abby and her big dick, ellie and her good pussy, mentions of weed so dubcon, cervix-hitting?, hair pulling, squirting, some assplay lol, breeding kink, ellie’s kinda a voyeur :o

꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦

you thought your good friend, abby, had invited you and your friend, ellie over for a self-care night. you were expecting pinterest facials, mani-pedis, and multiple smoke sessions. 

but all you got was two smoked down roaches and a pussy in your face. and you fucking loved it!

“yeah? m’ fuckin’ this pussy good?” 

abby is talking you through yet another fucking nut, and you swore that your brain was melting and this close to sliding out of your ears in a pink, glittery liquid. all you could get out as slurred and wet yesyesyesyes’s as you were three knuckles deep in ellie’s squishy soft walls. whenever she squeezed down on them, another gush of your wetness wrapped around abby’s fat dick, making those nice, squelchy sounds that you found out she likes so much. 

you watched ellie take your fingers deep in her cunt: her eyes rolled back, her fingers were digging into the couch cushion, and her cute cheeks were a deep red, and she was so fucking cute and she kept saying your name over and over again. you bent down to suck her sensitive clit in your mouth. her head fell back on the arm of the couch. she tasted so fucking good and you wanted her cum all over your face. 

you looked up to watch ellie due to her non-stop warnings of imgonnacumimgonnacum and you wanted it, fuck you wanted it so bad. 

“fuck, make her cum, baby. nice’n hard, all over that pretty face,” abby leaned down to whisper in your ear as she grinded into you, her large hands keeping that arch in your back deep. 

ellie let out a moan of your name as she gushed on your fingers and the couch cushion and your chin, and you sucked on her clit harder. you felt her hands reach down to tug at your hair to keep you steady as she grinded up into your face to ride out her high. 

abby had slowed down so you could focus on ellie, but she still was playing with your clit, rubbing you in gentle circles so she could watch you clench on her while ellie squeezed on you. 

ellie unwrapped her thighs from your head, looking into your eyes before roughly grabbing your chin to stick her tongue in your mouth. and abby picked up her pace. you moaned in ellie’s mouth, and she moaned back. 

“fuck, baby, gonna make me fuckin’ cum,” abby said and you immediately braced yourself to push back onto her at her warning, your ass hitting her abs. you wanted her to cum. 

but she gripped your hips in her tight grasp and started thrusting in deep, so fucking deep and her tip was hitting your cervix and it hurt so good and fuck—

“fuck, she’s so fuckin’ sexy,” ellie whined out against your mouth before kissing you again. she wasn’t talking to you, she couldn't have been, you can’t think! 

“uh huh, fuck, gonna make me cum in this fuckin’ pussy,” she repeated with more urgency and you screamed out into ellie’s mouth, feeling her softly laugh at you as she sucked on your tongue. you want her cum, you want her cum! you felt the tip of her thumb play with your ass and you were gonna cum so hard!

“want a baby? yeah? want m’fucking kid inside you?” she cooed at you. 

and you squirted all over her dick. and her abs. and her thighs. and fuck, it felt so good. all you could hear was abby’s groan of imfuckincummingfuck. and you threw it back on her harder. she was moaning as she slapped your ass hard, pulling it back on her so she could ride it out. 

when you both came down, she pulled out, and she groaned out a fuuck at the strings of slick connecting your pussy and her dick together. 

you and ellie were still making out and you smiled into her mouth, your tongue flicking against hers and she smiled and flicked hers back. 

but you felt a hand in your hair pull you back and you let out a squeak. 

you felt abby lean forward before she spoke into your ear. 

“tell her who’s pussy this is.” 

“….’s abby’s pussy.” you breathed out, holding eye contact with ellie. she smirked at you. 

“say it louder.” 

“‘s abby’s pussy!”

ellie scoffed out a laugh before looking behind you. 

“then can i fuck her.” she said simply, completely ignoring you, and it made you shudder. 

fuck the face masks, you guess! 

꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦

[midsummer-semantics]

Fortune Favors the Bold

Back with part 2 of Steddie Kinktober Bingo! Cross-posted on ao3 as well!

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Professor Steve Harrington, Grad Student Eddie Munson, Teacher-Student Relationship, Pre-Relationship, still but we're getting there, Phone Sex, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Eddie Munson Has a Praise Kink, dom/sub dynamics, Dom Steve Harrington, Sub Eddie Munson, WELCOME BACK SUB EDDIE, Mutual Masturbation, Jerk off Instruction, Kinktober, Marijuana, Eddie smokes because duh but he's completely in control of his actions

Summary:

Eddie’s probably an idiot for doing this, but once he found out Steve’s dirty little secret, he replied to the last one with a secret message of his own:

That can still be arranged.

Or: The semester may have ended, but Eddie's obsession with his professor definitely hasn't.

[divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics]

Keep reading below for the fic! ⤵️

Eddie’s probably an idiot for doing this, but once he found out Steve’s dirty little secret, he replied to the last one with a secret message of his own:

That can still be arranged.

He then sent Steve a quick email saying “Thank you so much for the private lessons. The last research project is done. I look forward to working with you closely in the future,” and then closed his laptop and screamed into his pillow for two straight minutes.

It was bold. More bold than the claim that landed him in those private sessions, but maybe not as bold as Steve had been.

His professor, of course, one-ups him again a few days later with a reply:

His personal number. Steve sent Eddie his personal fucking phone number.

Eddie screams into his pillow again for good measure.

It takes a week and a half of spiraling, several started and deleted texts, an aborted call to his best friend Chrissy (because honestly, he can’t tell her about this, it’s a complete breach of trust with Steve), and maybe a few too many hits off a joint before Eddie finally plucks up the courage to put that number to use.

It’s three days until Christmas and Eddie’s stoned in his childhood bedroom, his uncle at work because even this close to the holiday, the old man can’t catch a break.

He’d taken screenshots of all the secret messages and put them in a locked folder on his phone, reading back through them periodically to use as jerk-off material. Steve really did have a vivid imagination that he managed to convey in so few words. Shakespeare would give his left arm for half of the homoeroticism that Steve can produce in two lines of prose.

Eddie stubs the roach out, leans back against the wall — because 16-year-old Eddie didn’t have a bed frame with a headboard so 29-year-old Eddie gets to go without while he’s visiting Wayne — and pulls up Steve’s contact.

It’s only 8:15pm, a perfectly reasonable time to contact a professor about a homework question. That is, if it wasn’t winter break, and Eddie was still his student, and he actually had a homework question to ask him.

Whatever, he thinks. Steve told him to call him if he needs anything. And Eddie is in bed, half-chubbed from the messages he was re-reading for the millionth time, hazy from the weed, and needing to hear his professor’s voice even for a second.

He presses the number to dial before he can think twice about it, holding the phone up to his ear as the line rings, readjusts himself in his boxers, and waits. 

“Hello, Steve Harrington speaking,” a voice answers after the third ring.

Eddie’s heart skips a beat, momentarily rendered speechless. For some reason, he had it in his mind that Steve gave him a phony number, that maybe he imagined the entire thing and was living out some kind of insane vivid dream for the last few weeks.

“Hello?” Steve says again, knocking Eddie out of his momentary stupor.

“Hello, professor,” Eddie chirps, cringing when he realizes how eager he sounds. He tries to backtrack. “Sorry, I know it’s late, and you’re probably with family, and — shit, why did I think this was a good idea—”

“Whoa, Eddie?” Steve interrupts, not sounding the least bit angry, but almost… happy? Definitely surprised, but not in a bad way, Eddie thinks.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “It’s me. Sorry. I know you told me to call you if I needed anything, but I wasn’t sure if you were serious.”

“I was serious,” Steve says. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t think you’d actually take up the offer.”

“Oh? Why not?”

If Eddie’s phone had a chord, he’d be twirling it around his finger as he settles more comfortably against the wall and his bed, legs splayed out in front of him over the flannel sheets.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re calling instead,” Steve prompts gently. “What do you need?”

So many things, Eddie’s mind supplies.

“I- uh…” he stammers instead, trying to come up with a good reason to have bothered his (former) professor this late during holiday break. “I wanted to know if you’ll be available next semester to do more private lessons. Seeing as I’m not on your roaster for the spring.”

There’s some shuffling in the background that Eddie can’t decipher before Steve speaks up. “Oh? Well, I don’t see why not. I’m only teaching two classes so I can focus on my next manuscript, so I’ll have a bit of free time that I’d be happy to dedicate to my favorite.” There’s a short pause before Steve tacks on, “Student.”

Eddie tries to hide the gasp he lets out by pulling the phone away from his face, reaching down with his free hand to cup his straining erection through his boxers. Even just hearing Steve’s voice is enough to have him leaking into the fabric. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

“Great,” Eddie chokes, a little high pitched even in his own ears. “Great. I’ll still be free Thursday evenings if that works for you.”

Steve hums, more shuffling happening for a moment. “Sure, that works for me. But, Eddie, I can’t exactly offer you reprieve on a project or anything if you’re not my student next semester. And while I would love to assume you’re asking for the sheer opportunity to learn, I have to ask…”

There’s a pause, during which Eddie’s heart migrates to his throat.

“What do you really hope to gain from these private lessons?”

Eddie can feel himself starting to sweat, even though he’s only wearing his boxers and the heater in the old trailer is shit.

“I—” he mutters, “I guess… um… whatever you’re willing to give me?” He says it like a question, but the alternative is begging for something, anything, that Steve is willing to provide.

Steve tsks on the other end of the line, how voice slightly deeper, huskier when he speaks again. “Come on, Eddie. You can do better than that. Where’s all those words you poured into your research projects? All that confidence when you’re claiming Jonson was a self-important asshole for publishing his complete works in seven volumes?”

Eddie bites his lip hard to prevent a whine from escaping, squeezing the base of his dick harder to keep from coming.

“Dunno what my options are,” Eddie tries. He’s fishing, he knows he is, deflecting in the hopes that Steve just tells him what to do so Eddie can let him take the reins and he doesn’t have to think. Between the weed coursing through his bloodstream and Steve’s voice coursing through his synapses, he’s entirely out of his own control, and he needs more of this weightless oblivion.

“Well,” Steve grunts. There’s more shuffling and a quiet goran. “I can talk to the department about a GA placement. Make you my assistant for the semester.”

Eddie’s almost taken out of the fantasy by that offer. Grad assistants get tuition reprieve and a regular paycheck. Normally those positions only go to PhD students, but a GA at the MA level would severely reduce the debt he’s going into for this program.

“Or,” Steve continues, “I could offer an independent study course. One unit to help knock one of those extra required ones down for graduation.”

That’s also a fantastic offer. Some of those units are meant to go toward writing his thesis, but he doesn’t want to take them all at once and end up paying more in the long run.

But that’s not why Eddie called him. It’s not even why he took Steve up on his initial offer for private lessons. He wanted to learn, sure, but mostly he wanted to spend time with the older man. He wanted his attention solely on him, and he has it right now, unmitigated by academic or bureaucratic red tape, and he wants to keep that going.

“With respect, sir,” Eddie hedges, knowing this is already a dangerous game that they’re playing, but too down bad to consider quitting now. “Getting to spend more time with you is all the incentive I really need.”

It’s quiet on the other line for a moment, long enough for Eddie to start panicking again.

“Tell me, Eddie,” Steve says, his tone still deep and inviting. “Are you willing to be a good boy for me?”

This time, Eddie doesn’t prevent a low groan from escaping him, slouching on the bed as he squeezes his cock again, his legs falling open automatically.

“Yes, sir,” he mutters, almost a whine, but not quiet. Not yet.

“I meant what I said, you know. In those little messages. You really don’t know what you do to me, baby boy,” Steve rasps. Eddie thinks he hears the click of a bottle opening, a soft groan breathed into the phone’s speaker right into Eddie’s fuzzy brain, before unmistakable slow, slick sounds begin. “The amount of times I’ve had to fuck my fist right after you leave my office…” Steve continues, his voice a little more ragged than before. “God, the janitors would be pissed at the messes I’ve made.”

Eddie awkwardly shoves his boxers down one-handed and kicks them off haphazardly, grasping his own copiously leaking cock and giving it a few quick, over-dry strokes. The friction makes him hiss even as he moans.

“Oh, sweet thing,” Steve coos. “Too eager to use lube?”

It’s like Steve really is watching him; how does he know Eddie’s just raw-dogging his dick like this? He’s almost 30, he knows better than to jerk one out without something to ease the glide. But his lube is in his bathroom bag, and he’d have to put the phone down to get it open, and he doesn’t want to miss a second of hearing Steve jerking off for him.

“Why don’t you put a couple of fingers between those pretty lips for me? Get your hand nice and wet before you hurt yourself,” Steve instructs.

Eddie has three fingers in his mouth before he can mutter a yes, sir, but he tries to get the words around the intrusion anyway, burning with mortification at his eagerness when he hears Steve chuckle in his ear.

“That’s it, baby boy. Suck on those pretty fingers for me. I bet you look so good with your mouth full.”

Eddie can feel the drool starting to collect between his fingers and slide down his palm, his eyes rolling back at the combination between having his mouth stuffed and Steve’s voice whispering filthy praise in his ear.

“Alright, baby. Now get your hand on your cock and let me hear you sing for me.”

Eddie pulls his fingers from his mouth and wraps his wet hand around himself, the glide much easier. The moan he lets out is entirely too loud, too telling of how turned on he is, but he can’t stop it. 

“That’s it, pretty one. Let me hear you. God,  you sound so good.”

Eddie can hear the slick sounds of Steve beating off on the other line, the less than quiet groans the older man lets out in response to Eddie’s too-loud ones. 

“I bet you look so pretty all laid out, touching your cock. Are you naked, Eddie?”

Eddie gasps, twisting his fist around the head of his dick and nodding dumbly. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Are you wet for me?”

Eddie looks down at this cock, the head deep red and spurting pre-come like a leaky faucet.

“So fucking wet,” Eddie pants, eyes squeezing shut so he can focus on the sounds Steve breathes into the phone.

“I want to eat you out, baby boy. Would you like that? Bend you over my desk and spank your ass ‘til it’s red before tongue fucking you ‘til you come all over yourself?”

“Steve —” Eddie keens, feeling his balls draw tight, right on the edge.

“Gonna come for me, baby? That’s okay. Come whatever you want to. I’m not stopping until I’ve finished,” Steve says. It sounds vaguely threatening, but holy fuck, is it exactly the permission Eddie needs to trigger his orgasm. Come shoots out of him, landing over his fist, stomach, chest, even a bit on his neck as he moans and mewls through it.

“Fuck yeah,” Steve mutters, before loosing a deep groan of his own that lets Eddie know his professor is coming as well.

There’s a lot of heavy breathing between them stuttering down the phone line as both men attempt to catch their breath. Eddie needs a shower, maybe a baptism after the religious experience that is hearing Steve Harrington come.

“You okay, pretty one?’ Steve mutters after several agonizing minutes.

“Mhmm,” Eddie hums, mouth dry and body completely wrung out. “Yeah, ‘m perfect.”

“Yeah you are,” Steve agrees, that delicate condescension back in his tone. Eddie can feel himself being tugged toward sleep, and of course it’s like Steve already knows. “Clean yourself up a bit, baby, and then you can sleep all you want.”

“Will you—” he starts and then stops, not wanting to voice his thoughts out loud and come off too needy after everything.

“I’ll stay on the phone with you until you’re tucked back in bed,” Steve answers, all-knowing as always. “And after Christmas we can talk about your private lessons for the spring.”

Eddie doesn’t meant to whine, he doesn’t, but Steve just fucked his brains out without being anywhere near him and he doesn’t want to wait four days before he talks to him again.

“Oh, baby, it’s okay. You can still call me whenever you need something. That offer still stands,” Steve promises.

“Okay,” Eddie replies. “Thank you, sir.”

“Anytime, Eddie. Really.”

[startseeingstars]

Under the Needle - Clay Roach (City on a Hill)

‼️ smut ‼️

CH18 🎶 Maybe Someday - The Cure 🎶

The icy wind bit at your cheeks as you trudged home from work, your breath fogging up in little puffs against the crisp night air. Snow had started to fall, blanketing the streets in a quiet charm that you usually loved—when you weren’t freezing your ass off. You pulled your coat tighter around you, your boots crunching against the fresh layer of white, and silently cursed yourself for not wearing a scarf.

By the time you reached your building, your fingers were numb, and you could practically feel the promise of warmth waiting on the other side of your door. As soon as you stepped inside, you were greeted by the unmistakable, rich scent of weed. It hit you like a warm hug, pulling a smirk onto your face.

You pushed the door open to find Clay sprawled out on your couch, as if he owned the place. His legs were stretched out, feet propped up on your coffee table, his hair a tousled mess that only seemed to work in his favor. Smoke swirled lazily around him, caught in the dim light of the room.

“Make yourself comfy, I guess,” you said dryly, rolling your eyes as you set your bag down.

Clay didn’t even glance your way at first, too engrossed in whatever ridiculous cartoon he’d found on your TV. Finally, he turned his head, a slow, lazy grin spreading across his face. “Don’t mind if I do.”

You crossed the room, shedding your coat as you went, and noticed the bong he’d set up on the table next to his.

“Packed you one,” he said, gesturing toward it with a casual flick of his wrist.

“How chivalrous,” you teased, sinking onto the couch beside him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, taking a slow drag from his own bong. “Don’t let it go to your head, doll.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you lit up, the smoke warming you from the inside out. As you exhaled, the tension from the day began to dissolve, leaving you a little lighter, a little hazier.

Clay’s eyes flicked toward you, his gaze lingering just long enough to make your cheeks warm—though whether it was the weed or him, you couldn’t be sure. Without warning, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, earthy kiss that tasted faintly of pine and smoke.

Definitely him.

You blinked in surprise as he pulled back just as casually, sniffing like nothing had happened before turning his attention back to the TV. “You smell good,” he mumbled, his voice low and rough.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t I just smell like weed now?”

“It’s that girly shit you wear… does somethin’ to my brain,” he shot back with a smirk, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

The two of you settled into an easy rhythm, passing the bong back and forth as the haze thickened around you. It was the same routine you’d fallen into over the past couple of weeks—work, come home, smoke with Clay, make out, sleep. Simple. Comforting. And yet, somehow, never boring.

As the cartoons droned on, you glanced at him, his face softened in the glow of the TV. “So,” you said, breaking the silence, “what’s with you always ending up here before I even get home? Got a tracking chip on me or something?”

He chuckled, taking another hit before answering. “Nah, you just got better snacks.”

“Oh, is that it?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “You’re using me for my pantry?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Your couch is comfier than mine, too.”

You rolled your eyes, but the grin tugging at your lips betrayed you. “Right. And the fact that I catch you staring at my tits every night has nothing to do with it.”

“Hey, I’m a gentleman,” he shot back playfully.

You smiled, feeling a touch of heat creep up your neck as you recalled the degrading things he whispered in your ear while you were getting hot and heavy.

“Lucky you bring some good shit ‘round.” You gestured to the bowl of weed on the table, earning a chuckle from him.

“I’m resourceful. Grew up having to be. You know my mom used to hide the Pop-Tarts from me? I’d find ’em every time, though. She used to call me her little gremlin.”

You laughed at the image, picturing a younger, equally mischievous Clay raiding the cupboards. “Bet you got grounded a lot.”

“Grounded? Nah. She’d just turn the TV off and call it a day. Which, let me tell you, is a punishment worse than death when you’re eight and hooked on Rugrats.”

The thought made you laugh harder, your cheeks hurting as the high amplified your amusement. “So that’s where your deep love of cartoons comes from, huh?”

“Something like that,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head. “Also, I’m pretty sure I have a sixth sense for finding junk food. You ever lose a candy bar around me, I’ll find it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, grinning as you took another hit.

The conversation drifted from one topic to the next—stupid things you did as kids, weird food habits, even the time he bought weed from his friend’s older brother. Which, spoiler: turned out to be oregano.

By the time the bong was nearly empty, the two of you were slouched against each other on the couch, laughter still lingering in the air. Clay glanced down at you, his expression softening just a little.

“You’re alright, you know that?” he muttered, his voice quieter than usual.

You looked up at him, your smile fading into something more tender. “You’re not so bad yourself, Trouble.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Don’t let that get out. Gotta keep my reputation intact.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you promised, your voice soft as the quiet settled in again.

xxx 🎶 Use Me - PVRIS ft. 070 Shake 🎶 xxx

You laid in bed, hearing Clay fumble around the bathroom in his high daze. You giggled as he tripped, emerging from the doorway in only his boxers.

“What’re you laughing at?” He glared playfully, but you saw the way his eyes flicked up and down your body. You were in your pyjamas pants and an oversized shirt, but somehow, his gaze made you feel naked.

“The dumbass in my bedroom who can’t seem to walk straight,” you giggled again, a little light headed from all the weed.

His eyes darkened a little, but his lips twitched upwards as he crawled over top of you. “Bet you’ll have trouble walkin’ after, too.” He murmured, grazing his nose gently against yours as you smiled.

“From what?” You asked, but you already had a hunch.

Clay kissed you gently, before he dared to bite your lip. The movement sent a spark through your chest and down to your core, rekindling the flame that always seemed to be lit around him. Lazily, he trailed open mouth kisses down your neck, chest, stomach, until he reached your pants.

His soft fingers hooked into the waistband and tugged your bottoms off, exposing your core to him. He wasted no time, spreading your legs wide as he lowered his mouth to you.

You felt his nose graze your clit gently as he lapped at you with his wet tongue. The silky moans escaping your lips were like music to his ears. He was certain he would never get tired of hearing you make those noises for him.

Instinctively, one of your hands roamed your chest, while the other found its way into Clay’s soft hair as it brushed against your thighs. He moaned as you gripped a handful of his locks, and the vibration against your clit made you shudder.

Clay’s tongue plunged as far inside you as it could go, swirling and flicking as the knot in your stomach grew.

Suddenly, his hot mouth was gone, and you looked down as he spat on your clit. You gasped a little, and his eyes flickered up to yours as he ran his tongue up and down your pussy, holding your gaze with his big eyes.

Clay’s fingers caressed and kneaded at the flesh of your thighs as he lapped at you hungrily. Your swollen clit on his tongue tasted heavenly, and he couldn’t seem to get enough. You groaned as the bundle of nerves between your legs grew sensitive, aching for that sweet release only he could give you.

Clay’s needy cock begged for attention, but he focussed on you despite feeling his cock twitch at every little whimper that escaped your mouth. Your grip in his hair became tighter, and he had to stop himself from grinning as you rocked your hips slightly, desperate to create friction.

His nose rubbed over your clit, stimulating it just right while his tongue worked your wet hole eagerly. “C-Close,” you managed to gasp, and Clay suddenly became ravenous, like a man starved for days.

His tongue flicked faster and you cried out as he sent you over the edge. A long, blissful wave of pleasure washed over your body, leaving your mind numb and ears buzzing—though, that could have been from the weed.

Clay took his time, savouring the taste of your juices on his tongue before he finally came up for air. Your legs felt heavy, and he grinned at you—that gorgeous, cocky half-smile that seemed to tug at your heart.

“Y’know, we should go for a walk—” Clay began to joke, his voice teasing but slightly rough around the edges, still catching its rhythm after everything.

You didn’t let him finish. Your hand shot up, curling around the back of his neck as you pulled him toward you, your lips crashing into his with a desperation that startled even you. At first, it wasn’t a kiss—it was a need, raw and all-consuming, like you were trying to fuse yourself to him, to feel every inch of him in a way words couldn’t reach.

His body tensed for a split second, but then he melted into you, his lips matching your urgency with his own. His fingers brushed against the bare skin of your waist, grounding you as the kiss deepened. The faint taste of him—smoke and something sweet you couldn’t quite place—mixed with your own lingering traces, igniting a warmth in your chest that spread like wildfire.

Then, slowly, the kiss shifted. It softened, the frantic edge giving way to something quieter, more deliberate. Your lips moved together in a rhythm that felt achingly familiar, like you’d been doing this forever. The contrast sent a shiver up your spine, goosebumps rising on your bare arms as the room around you seemed to blur and fade.

For the first time, you dared to look at him through half-lidded eyes. His face was so close, the faintest crease in his brow revealing something you couldn’t quite put into words.

Something had shifted.

It wasn’t just you—he felt it, too. You could tell by the way his lips lingered against yours a moment longer than they needed to, by the way his hand tightened slightly on your waist as if afraid you might pull away.

Inside, his mind screamed at him to stop, to say something snarky and pull back before this got too heavy. But for once, he ignored it. Instead, he let himself sink further into you, his movements tender in a way that was almost uncharacteristic, as if he was afraid of breaking whatever fragile thing had settled between you.

Your breaths mingled as you finally pulled back just enough to rest your forehead against his, your fingers still playing at the edge of his hair. The silence was thick, charged, but not uncomfortable. His eyes flicked open to meet yours, their glassy, hazel depths searching your face like he was trying to memorize it.

“Maybe later,” he murmured a half chuckle, his voice low and almost hesitant.

“Maybe,” you replied, your voice just as soft, though your heart thundered against your ribcage as you smiled slightly.

Neither of you moved. Instead, you stayed like that, caught in the delicate balance of the moment, knowing that something unspoken had shifted—and neither of you were ready to name it just yet.

xxx 🎶 Follow You - BMTH 🎶 xxx

When you stepped through the door of your apartment, the quiet hit you harder than usual. The absence of Clay’s familiar presence—a lazy figure sprawled on your couch or the smell of weed lingering in the air—felt oddly unsettling. You glanced around, half-expecting to find some evidence of him, but the space was empty.

Frowning slightly, you brushed off the small knot tightening in your stomach. He was fine. Probably just out picking up more weed or running a quick deal. Clay had always been unpredictable, a little erratic, but lately, you’d grown used to his consistency.

Still, as the night dragged on, his absence settled heavier in your chest. This wasn’t like him. Not lately, anyway. Your thoughts drifted to the worst possibilities, unwelcome and sharp as they sliced through your mind. What if he was out getting a fix? What if he’d slipped back into something darker?

Shaking your head, you muttered a curse under your breath and flipped through TV channels with restless fingers. Distraction. That was all you needed.

But the static noise of late-night sitcoms couldn’t drown out the ache creeping into your chest, the nagging worry that he wasn’t okay.

The soft glow of morning light streaming through the living room window stirred you awake. Distant car horns honked as the city slowly came alive, people heading to their nine-to-fives. You stretched and groaned, rubbing your stiff neck—an unpleasant gift from the couch arm you’d used as a pillow.

Blinking groggily, the first thought that hit you was Clay. He hadn’t come around. He hadn’t called or even left a sign of where he might be. The realisation sent a pang of unease spiraling through your chest, a nervous flutter that grew harder to ignore.

Sliding on your shoes, you decided to check if he was home.

The hallway outside was quiet, but as you stepped out, Clay’s mom appeared, rushing out of her apartment. She juggled her keys, her scrubs a little wrinkled but clean, and her face brightened slightly when she saw you.

“Oh, Myah,” she said, her tone warm despite her hurried steps. “I thought maybe you hadn’t been around. Clay actually came home last night.” She laughed lightly, nodding toward her apartment door as she stuffed her keys into her bag. “He’s in his room if you’re looking for him.”

Relief washed over you, and you smiled back. “Thanks, have a good shift.”

“No such thing.” she called over her shoulder dryly as she hurried toward the elevator.

At Clay’s bedroom door, you hesitated. Your hand hovered over the wood before you knocked softly. “Clay?”

No response.

Your fingers brushed the doorknob, and when it gave way with a creak, you carefully pushed it open. The room was dim, the light from the living room spilling softly across his figure. Clay was sprawled out on his mattress, the blankets kicked halfway off, his bare chest rising and falling in an easy rhythm. He looked completely at peace, snoring faintly, his face slack and relaxed.

You couldn’t help but smirk. He looked like a scruffy, oversized kid—a scene so endearing you could practically see cartoon Z’s hovering over his head.

For a moment, you considered leaving, letting him sleep. But something pulled you toward him, a tug deep inside you that you couldn’t quite ignore. Quietly, you stepped closer, sinking onto the edge of his worn mattress.

As you settled beside him, he stirred slightly, his body instinctively gravitating toward yours even in his sleep. A smile crept across your lips, warmth blooming in your chest as he nestled closer.

Without thinking, your fingers reached out, brushing a few messy strands of hair from his face. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his features soft in the dim light. The sight of him like this—so vulnerable, so unguarded—made your heart clench in a way that took you by surprise.

And then, like a sudden wave crashing over you, it hit you.

You loved him.

The realisation was startling, like icy water washing over you, but it was also undeniable. You loved him. The thought settled into your chest with a bittersweet weight, and for a moment, all you could do was sit there, your fingers ghosting over his hair as you tried to make sense of it.

The creak of Clay’s mattress shifted under your weight as he stirred, his hand moving to rub at his face before his eyes blinked open. For a second, he just stared at you, his expression drowsy and soft in a way you weren’t used to seeing. Then, that familiar crooked smirk tugged at his lips.

“Morning, doll,” he mumbled, his voice husky with sleep. “What’s the occasion? Thought maybe I was dreamin’ for a sec.”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “Good morning to you too. Where were you last night?”

Clay froze for a fraction of a second, so brief you might have missed it if you hadn’t been watching closely. He propped himself up on one elbow, scratching the back of his head as he avoided your gaze.

His smirk faltered, just a flicker of hesitation, before he sat up and stretched. “Didn’t realise we’d made plans,” he said casually, running a hand through his messy hair. “Was just out with a buddy, got stoned, lost track of time. Rolled in late.”

The words came easily, but Clay felt the weight of them. It wasn’t a lie—but he was beginning to feel too attached, content with you—and it terrified him. He hated how the truth would sound if he said it out loud, so he left it in the dark where it belonged.

You raised an eyebrow, studying him for a moment, before shrugging. “Alright. Would’ve been nice to know, though. Fell asleep on my couch waiting for you, and now my neck feels like hell.”

Clay winced, the smallest pang of guilt threading through his chest. “Yeah, well, I didn’t ask you to lose sleep over me, did I?”

“Maybe not,” you shot back, smirking. “But it’s the principle of the thing.”

Clay couldn’t help but grin at the way you gave as good as you got. He leaned back against the headboard, tilting his head toward you. “Alright, princess. How was your night then, apart from the self-inflicted neck trauma?”

“Fine,” you said lightly, though the way you brushed it off didn’t go unnoticed by him. You shifted gears quickly, sitting cross-legged on the edge of his bed. “Actually, I wanted to tell you. Work is doing a little Christmas thing in a couple days—a small get-together at that bar on Main. Just beers and bullshit with the crew.”

Clay made a vague sound of acknowledgment, though his expression turned distant. He didn’t do Christmas. Too many bad memories wrapped up in tinsel and fake cheer. But he listened anyway, watching the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve.

“It’s nothing fancy,” you added, your tone playful now. “But I’ll have to get all dolled up, and I’d hate to show up alone.”

That caught his attention. His brows arched as his gaze snapped to you. “Dolled up, huh? What’s that mean? You gonna bedazzle your leather jacket or somethin’?”

“Maybe,” you teased, leaning in slightly. “You’ll have to show up to find out.”

Clay snorted, shaking his head. “You’re tryin’ to sucker me into some holiday crap just so I can be your arm candy, aren’t you?”

“And if I am?” you challenged, your grin widening. “Would that really be so bad?”

He narrowed his eyes, like he was weighing the pros and cons. “What’s in it for me?”

You leaned closer, your voice dropping into something softer, suggestive. “Oh, I’m sure I could think of something you’d like.”

The way you said it sent heat crawling up his neck, but he masked it with a smirk. “Yeah, you better make it worth my while, sweetheart.”

“So that’s a yes?” Your eyes lit up and his chest tightened. How could he say no when you were looking at him like that?

“Guess I’m in,” he replied with only slightly exaggerated reluctance. He paused for a moment. “Is this, uh…” Clay hesitated, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Like, a date or somethin’?”

The word hung in the air for a moment, and you noticed the way his shoulders stiffened ever so slightly. You tilted your head at him, suddenly amused. “I mean… I guess you could call it that.”

“Hmm.” He made a noncommittal sound, his gaze shifting toward the ceiling.

The word date hit him like a slap to the face, and though his smirk didn’t falter, his stomach tightened. A date? That made it something else, something real, outside the walls of your apartments. Truthfully, he was in two minds about what your relationship was morphing into.

You noticed the slight shift in his demeanor, the way his playful edge seemed to dull, but you didn’t push. You just smiled teasingly and said, “Don’t worry, sugar. My treat.” Clay felt your lips on his cheek and he chuckled, despite the tightness in his chest.

[hottie0]

You Get Me So…

Pairing: Nick Miller/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Nick and Reader’s relationship shifts after getting high and watching Cat in the Hat.

Rating: Teen and up

Warnings: Mentions of Sex, Smoking Weed, Alcohol Consumption Cat in the Hat

A/N: This isn’t particular towards any body type or race, everyone is applicable! I have always wished we saw Nick smoking more in the show, so I wrote this! I also posted this on AO3 under the same name; it’s linked at the bottom! Enjoy :))

“Nicholas, look what I have,” As Nick walked into the loft you waved a mason jar of weed back and forth. Nick’s eyebrows raised and he sat on the couch next to you. “I’m willing to share if you roll.”

“Well, with an offer like that,” Nick unbuttoned his jeans, shimmied them off, and slid under your fluffy blanket. “I thought I’d have to bum one of Cece’s roaches.”

“Been there,” You unclipped your weed box and picked out some supplies. “Thoughts on paper flavours?”

“Fuck, do you have green apple?” Nick rubbed his eyes and then sat up, eyeing your collection.

“No, but I have cherry.”

“Is that the only flavour you have?” Nick asked.

“Yeah.”

“So why would you… never mind, just give me the crap.” Nick cracked his fingers and hunched over the coffee table, getting to work. You got up to grab some snacks and beverages.

“You want crackers?” You asked him, already opening the box.

“Sure, Linda, I’d love some.” Nick smirked and referenced Bob’s Burgers, a show you two had watched almost all of.

“Alright, Bobby!” You did your best attempt at Linda Belcher’s accent, getting a chortle out of Nick. You poured yourself a hearty glass of wine and grabbed two bottles of beer for Nick. With the box of crackers under your arm, the glass in one hand, and the beer bottles in the other you headed to the designated smoking area near the window. You settled into the comfy seat and fidgeted with your lighter as you waited for your roommate to finish up.

Nick licked the rolling paper, sealed the joint, and got up from the couch with a grunt. He handed you the joint then opened the large window, knowing you were too short to reach it. You quickly examined the joint, impressed, as per usual, with how naturally good he was at rolling. When he sat down again you looked up at your partner in crime, gave him a slight smile, looked back down, and flicked the lighter. It took a few seconds for the tip to hold an amber, but once it did you raised it to your lips and inhaled deeply. You closed your eyes as the smoke flowed down your windpipe and into your lungs. After a very relaxing couple of seconds, you opened your eyes and exhaled, watching the smoke leave your mouth in a thick, enchanting cloud of smoke. You handed the joint over to Nick and sat back in your chair, letting out a couple of shameful coughs, having not smoked in a couple weeks due to your busy schedule. You watched with half-lidded eyes as Nick hit the joint himself, doing a trick as he exhaled while he still had the brainpower. As he ghosted the smoke, he delivered a subtle wink. You huffed out a slight laugh and he smiled back at you.

The two of you spent a while sitting there passing the joint back and forth, feeling the autumnal Los Angeles breeze through the open window, watching the smoke drift up into the rafters of the loft, feeling the stress leave your body and the high take over. It was common for the two of you to stay silent when you smoked together. It was different when Cece was with you or, God forbid, Winston. It was always fun when the others were part of the rotation, but you found you had the best time when it was just you and Nick. When you moved into the loft, you and Nick didn’t necessarily get along. Jess always said it was because you were too similar; whether or not you believed her wasn’t really relevant. It was when you and Nick got stuck on a two-person kayak in the middle of a random lake that you finally bonded. It was a moment you didn’t look back on too fondly seeing as it ended in sopping wet clothes and too many mosquito bites to count, but it was an important moment, nonetheless.

“You want the final hit?” Nick asked you after blowing out a copious amount of smoke.

“Don’t mind if I do.” You raised an eyebrow and stuck out your tongue a little bit, for what reason you weren’t sure.

“Okay,” Nick laughed and shook his head. “Let’s keep all appendages in the ride at all times.”

“Hmm,” you hummed as you sucked on the cherry flavoured joint. “Appendages. That’s a big word for you, pal.”

“Pal?” Nick laughed even more, eyes tired and red.

“I guess I’ve been hanging out with you too much.” You smiled softly at Nick, eyes worse than his. You put out the joint and left it in the ashtray, leaving it to rest with the graveyard of discarded butts.

“Alright,” Nick groaned and stood up slowly. “You coming?”

“Not on these two feet, Miller.” You stared up at him and squished your face together.

“Oh, no, no, no,” You giggled as Nick shook his head at you seriously, but you didn’t break the stare. You and Nick waited, looking at each other, for what felt like minutes, but was really more like 14 seconds until Nick stepped towards you and picked you up bridal style. “You’re a witch.”

“You love me.” You relaxed in Nick’s hold and splayed out in his arms like a confident, sexually experienced figure skater. Nick huffed and set you down on the couch, draping your blanket across your body. You could feel Nick staring down at you, so you made a peace sign with your fingers and put it on the outer corner of your eye.

“You know I hate it when you do the illuminati symbol!” Nick raised his voice as you laughed at him.

“This is not the illuminati symbol, this is!” You made your fingers into a triangle and brought them to the center of your eye.

“Enough! You know they can always see you!” Nick looked around, head on a swivel, and swatted at your hands until you submitted, covering your face as you laughed.

“Just sit, weirdo,” Nick sat next to you and started scrolling through the streaming services, trying to pick something for you guys to watch. “Oh, hey, Nick?”

“Yeah?” Nick hummed as he cycled through the comedy movies on Netflix.

“Have you watched Cat in the Hat before? And whatever your answer is, can we watch it right now?” You sat up and pulled your blanket up to your chin, placing the corner of the blanket on his thigh, an offering.

“The Cat in the Hat?” Nick sounded bewildered. “That’d a kid’s movie! Are we kids? No! We’re adults! We’re adults dammit! Why would we watch a kid’s movie? Are we kids? We’re not kids!” Nick ranted in his good old fashioned, insane Nick way.

“It is not a kid’s movie. How dare you say that,” you said, offended. “It is art. The Cat in the Hat film is pure art, Nick Miller. Of course you wouldn’t know that, though. Nick Miller and art, together. Silly me. Silly, silly, silly me.”

“I know art, what the hell? I’ve written a whole book, that’s art. I’m an artist.”

“If you knew art then you would watch Cat in the Hat with me.” You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed.

“Fine! Cat in the Hat it is! I hate everything!” Nick searched for The Cat in the Hat on Prime Video and pressed play once he found it, accepting his fate. You rifled around in the box of crackers, shoved some in your mouth, and offered Nick a couple. The two of you sat, high, watching The Cat in the Hat.

****************

“What the hell is happening?” Nick outraged, throwing his hands every which way, his beer bottle coming close to your face in a way that made you a little nervous. The Cat in the Hat was singing in a coconut bikini with fruit on his head, a scene which was not enjoying, something you couldn’t understand. “I did not consent to seeing this!”

“Calm down and be one with The Cat!” You shouted back at him, dancing along to the music and simultaneously waving your left hand to get his out of your face, your right gripping your glass of wine in a way that would make any rich, old, country club-going woman disappointed.

“I refuse!” The two of you waved your hands around some more until his beer bottle came into contact with your wine glass, creating an ear-shattering and glass-shattering catastrophe.

“Nick!” You shouted. Nick froze, holding the neck-sans-body of his beer bottle as wine and beer ran down your chest and stomach. Luckily the glass didn’t cut you, but it was all over your body and the couch. “Nicholas Miller! Do something!”

“Shit!” Nick whisper yelled. He sprung into action, moving hastily, yet carefully as to not disturb the glass too much. He began picking large chunks of glass from your body with nimble fingers and setting them on the coffee table. His fingers skirted across your clothed body ever so lightly, and you could feel your skin tingling in their wake, but did your best to ignore it. “I’m so sorry, that was so stupid.”

“Just get it off!” You whined. You could feel the liquid running down your upper thighs, creating a puddle under your butt.

“I am! I am!” Nick picked up the final pieces from around the couch and stood up, reaching out to help you up. You grabbed his hands, as calloused as ever, and he pulled you up. You watched his biceps flex as he lifted you and you blushed. You shook your head and stood next to him, trying very hard to focus on the situation at hand. “What should we do?”

“Uh…” You stood for a minute then grabbed your blanket off the couch, along with a few of the removable pillows. “Well, Schmidt will know what to do, right?”

“Yeah, maybe?” Nick nodded and helped with the remaining pillows.

Nick led you to the laundry room where you dumped the pillows and blanket on the ground. Quickly, you fled to Jess’ room to grab a notepad and a pen. You furiously wrote, “Sorry, we had an oopsie :( ” and ran out to leave it on the couch. You and Nick both knew you would be in big trouble with the rest of the members of the loft and would likely have to pool your money to reupholster the couch, or probably just buy a new one, but that was a problem for future-you. Once the note was adorned on the couch, you headed to the bathroom to change your clothes. You quickly turned on the water and began stripping. Nick followed you in, entering as you pulled your wine-stained XXL Garfield t-shirt over your head.

“Oh, Garfield,” you said to the shirt as you held it up in front of you. “You were kind to me. May you rest in peace.”

“Do you need me for anything?” Nick asked cautiously. You stood in your sleep shorts and bra, which was one of your favourites, but was now probably ruined.

“Could you unclasp this stupid thing?” You gestured to your back and Nick stared at you. “It’s a pest. I struggle with it even when I’m sober and my hands aren’t disgusting.”

“Mhm, yeah. Yes. I can do that, yes,” Nick cleared his throat uncomfortably, but approached you to help. “Unfortunately, I am high, and my hands are gross, much like yours, but I will do that for you.”

Nick went behind your back and held your sides, stilling you as you wriggled in discomfort from being covered in sticky booze. You stopped moving and your cheeks went hot. Suddenly, you could no longer feel the mixture of beer and wine drying on your ass and could only feel the warmth of Nick’s fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra. He successfully got it unhooked, and you knew you should have told him to turn away and not look at your naked body, and you figured he knew he should have done it even if you hadn’t said anything, but both of you stayed put. You pulled your bra away from your chest and down your arms; you dropped it, and it fell to the floor on top of your beloved shirt. You turned around and made eye contact with your roommate; he looked into your eyes as your shorts joined the pile.

“I feel a little bit vulnerable, Miller,” you said, a smirk creeping onto your face. Nick blushed and you could feel him starting to get awkward. “Maybe you want to join me? In the shower, I mean.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Nick gave you a small smile and took a step back. He quickly pulled off his shirt and you could feel the energy change as the air got heavier with steam. “Hell yeah. I’m glad you asked.”

Nick shucked off his boxers and grabbed your waist. He rubbed circles into your hips with his thumbs and gazed into your eyes. You could feel your stomach begin to form butterflies as he planted a rough, warm kiss on your lips. He took one hand off your body to shove the shower curtain aside and backed you into the wall. The water poured down on the two of you and you could feel yourself getting worked up. High sex was the best sex, especially when it took place in the shower with your hot roommate you’d been swooning over ever since you had moved in; everybody knew that.

Nick grabbed your thighs and hoisted you up so your legs could wrap around his core. For someone who was known to be weak, he sure was strong. Suddenly Nick started lowering you down until you were sitting on the plank of wood Schmidt installed in the shower a couple months ago. At first you thought it was stupid, but when it came to shaving your legs and shower sex, it got the job done. Nick looked up at you with shockingly piercing, brown eyes as he approached you on his knees and gently pulled your legs apart. You sunk your hands into his thick, wet hair and he licked his lips.

“I always knew you were a munch.” You said through heavy pants. Nick rolled his eyes and got to work, making you let out a sigh that he would find himself thinking about for days afterward.

[chaoticbeanz]

Hellfire’s Girl 3

Summary- Peaches makes some new discoveries.

Pairing- Eddie Munson x Fem!oc

Warnings-(if I have left any out please let me know) friends to lovers, slow burn, she/her pronouns, cursing, mainly nickname will be used, weed mention and usage,

Word Count- Almost 2k

Notes- There will be straying from the storyline. Also sorry Eddie will be in the next part I promise.

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

~Lena~

It felt like I was seeing the world through a different lense every time. Smoke filled my lungs with every hit I took. Mind turning to mush. Thoughts crashing together. Body relaxing and just enjoying the company. I couldn’t stop the smile creeping on my face. Gareth took notice.

”Whatcha thinking about Peaches?”

“Everything and nothing. I’m glad I found a smoking buddy. I was afraid I’d be alone all the time since I moved. Not that I don’t mind being alone. Gotta have space sometimes, you know?”

Jesus I’m rambling. Shut up!

“My best friend was my buddy.” My smile became sad at the thought of them. I missed them so much. Sure we talked on the phone, but it wasn’t the same as hanging out together. “You would like them. We have similar tastes, though I’d argue she’s a bit more girly than me.”

”Well, can’t wait to meet her eventually. Who knows? Might fall in love.” Gareth raises his eyebrows and I could help but giggle.

”You can try but she plays for the same team if you catch my drift.” I took a sip of my drink to avoid cotton mouth.

I can see his eyes widen like it clicked and he nods in understanding. “Do you?”

I choked. I wasn’t expecting that question so soon.

Gareth patted my back to help me, “I’m sorry. That was personal. You don’t have to answer that.”

Once I regained my composure, I reassured him. “No no, it’s okay. It just caught me off guard. I, uh, I play both sides.”

“Hey, that’s cool. I don’t judge. I think one of Eddie’s other friends likes girls too. You should meet her.”

I giggled, “Trying to set me up, Gareth?”

He playfully scoffs, “Ha, you wish.” then passed the joint back to me.

I must admit as soon as he mentioned Eddie, my mind went astray. Gareth did say he was a fellow stoner. I wonder what he’s like when he’s high? Does he mellow out or get more amped up? How many rounds can he go? And I’m not just talking about smoking. What do his lips taste like?

I had not realized how deep in thought I was until lungs began yelling at me. It felt like they were on fire. Like a tiny dragon had set them ablaze. A coughing fit erupted as I passed the joint back to Gareth. He took it from me laughing as I scrambled for my drink to ease the pain.

I shoved his arm, “Fuck you! I’d like to see you take a big hit and not almost die!” My voice raspy as I still try to recover.

Gareth took that as a challenge.

I watched him inhale, his chest puffing out and the joint burning fiercely.

A few seconds pass by right before he has his own coughing fit. Immediately regretting his choice. He shoves the joint back to me. Now it was my turn to laugh, cackle even.

Between my laughing and his coughing, the music that was playing from inside my room was being drowned out.

Wiping the tears from our eyes for different reasons. I hand him his drink to ease his suffering.

“I didn’t mean for you to actually do it, you lightweight!”

Gareth looked at me like he was busted, “What gave it away?”

I took another hit then blew the smoke in his direction. “When I asked if you had a spot and you hesitated.” He rubbed the back of his neck looking embarrassed. “Stoners always have a spot. With or without company. I wouldn’t have thought less of you if you didn’t want to.”

”No no no, you’re right. I am a lightweight and to be more honest, you're way cooler than all of us combined Peaches.”

I couldn’t help the blush that spread across my cheeks. “Oh shut up! I just met you guys and you’re totally cool!” I offer the roach to him but he declines. Signaling that he has tapped out. I respect it and place it on the table in my room to remind myself to place it with the others that are for emergency use.

“I mean I don’t know how you guys can get any better?”

~3rd person~

This was it! His chance, his opportunity to be a wingman for his best friend. Gareth wasn’t an idiot. He saw the way Eddie looked at you and you him. There was something there.

“We’re a band.” He tells her seemingly nonchalant. But inside he's nervous.

Peaches snaps her head to him, her expression unreadable. “Are you serious?”

“Yeeeaahh. Me, Eddie, Jeff and Doug.” Gareth rubs the back of his neck nervously. Doubting that his plan wasn’t going to work. “Are we still cool?”

”Are you shitting me?!? That’s fucking awesome! I’m friends with a band?! That’s the best brag I could ever have!”

Gareth let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

Peaches on the other hand couldn’t catch a breath.

“What’s your band name? Do you guys perform? Do you have music recorded? Can I hear it please? Are you guitar or drums? I’m leaning more to drums but that could just be me.”

”Peaches! Breath!” He grabbed her by the shoulders.

She was stunned for a moment then let out a giggle. “I’m sorry.”

Gareth chuckled and let go of her. “It’s okay. We’re called Corroded Coffin. Sometimes we do at a place called the Hideout. I think I may have a copy that we did and yes you can listen to it. You’re right, I play drums. Doug is bass. Both Jeff and Eddie are guitar though Eddie is lead and vocals.”

”Wow! This is so exciting! I will now be your number one fan!” Peaches couldn’t help but be giddy about it all. Her new friends were amazing. There was however one last mystery. “Wait, if your band is Corroded Coffin? Then what’s Hellfire Club?” She pointed towards the t- shirt Gareth as well as all the other boys were wearing.

”Oh. Uh, you don’t need to worry about that Peach. It’s nothing.” Gareth tried to deflect.

”That’s not fair Gare! You all have the same shirt. It has to mean something! Is it because I’m a girl?”

He could hear the sadness showing in her voice. But he was afraid you’d make fun of them. “No, it’s not because you're a girl. It’s just… you’re gonna think it’s stupid or weird. Or that we’re…”

”Freaks?” She finished. “Listen, I already told Eddie that if not conforming to society brands you a freak? Then count me as one.”

Hearing that from Peaches just solidifies for him that she isn’t like everyone else in this god forsaken town.

She can see the hesitation in his eyes, “You don’t have to tell if you-“

”It’s our D&D club!” Gareth blurted out with closed eyes. Too afraid to see her reaction.

When the silence became too much he slowly opened his eyes to see Peaches with her mouth wide open in shock. There’s no way she heard that correctly.

“As in Dungeons and Dragons?”

Gareth rubs the back of his neck nervously nodding. What he didn’t anticipate was Peaches punching his arm in excitement which nearly caused him to fall off the roof.

She reached out to steady him, “ I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to hit you that hard! Are you okay?!”

“Yeah I’m good.” Gareth chuckled. “So I take it, you know the game?”

”I’ve never played but I know some kids I went to school with did. I always wanted to play but found it so intimidating so I kept chickening out.”

”Seriously?! Can you get any cooler!?”

“I could say the same about you guys!”

They both shared a laugh then continued talking about anything and everything. Before they knew it the sky began to grow dark and a pair of headlights made their way up the driveway.

“That would be my mother. Would you like to stay for dinner?” Peaches stands and climbs through her window back into her room. Gareth follows suit.

”I appreciate the offer but I should head home to my folks.”

”That’s okay. I figured I would ask first before my mom does.”

Peaches then grabs their trash and tosses it in the bin. Her eyes catch the roach laying on the table. She takes and puts it away with the rest that she has saved.

As both Gareth and Peaches make their way downstairs, she hears her mothers voice. “Lena! Is your friend staying for dinner?”

Peaches winks at Gareth as if to say “told ya”.

They stand in the archway of the kitchen, “Mom, this is Gareth. Gareth, my mother.” Peaches introduces. “And no. I’m taking him home so I’ll be back.”

“Oh okay. It was nice meeting you sweetie. Drive safe Lena.”

“It was nice to meet you too.” Gareth waves then follows Peaches.

“Remember, drive safe Lena.” Gareth teases as they get in the car.

“Shut up! Now it sounds weird when you guys use my actual name.” Peaches shoves him playfully. To her it didn't sound right for the boys to say her name. She was now Peaches to them, even if in just a short amount of time that they’ve known each other. Although her mind wasn’t objecting to the idea of Eddie saying her name. He might be the only exception.

The drive was filled with more conversation and music playing. It wasn’t long until Peaches pulled up to the curb of Gareth’s house. “Thanks for the ride Peaches.”

Before she could think, Peaches pulled Gareth into a tight hug, “Thank you.”

“What for?”, he questioned.

“Everything.”, she pulled away, “Becoming my friend, introducing me to the boys, hanging out with me; I was so worried I wouldn’t find people I actually wanted to be around.”

”Well, now you can’t get rid of us.”

Peaches laughs, “That’s fine with me. And don’t worry, I won't tell the boys that you told me about Corroded Coffin and Hellfire. I could tell you wanted to keep them a secret.”

Little did she know, Gareth wasn’t planning on telling the boys that she knew either. He wanted to keep the game going.

“I knew I could trust you Peaches. See ya at school.”

Gareth exits the car, gives one last wave then heads into his house.

Peaches makes her way back home, eats dinner with her parents, finishes up some homework, and climbs into bed. The whole day replays in her mind. A smile never leaves until her eyes grow heavy and sleep takes over.

Meanwhile on the other side of town, a certain someone had trouble falling asleep.

Eddie was tossing and turning, his thoughts running rampant. Did Peaches like Gareth? What did they talk about? What did they do? Did he even have a shot to begin with? What did her room look like? Okay, that’s weird. Eddie shook his head trying to purge the thoughts. The little green monster was still festering and out for blood. Why does he get to spend time with her?

“I’ll just have a little chat with him tomorrow. Yeah that sounds good.”

Eddie took one last pull from his joint to calm him before closing his eyes and hoping that dreamland would be in his favor.

Tagged: @luv4peterba1lard @arlxt06 @midnyghtsolstice

Thank you for reading!

If you would like to be tagged or share your thoughts please leave a comment. It is always appreciated.

More Eddie in part 4 I swear!

[ehveerivv]

Talking about staying up all night to scroll through YT:

Me: “ah, doomscrolling,”

Partner: “except somehow worse since it's YouTube and literally everything needs to be Advertised Friendly™️ and as sanitized as possible so I don't even get creators that are putting they raw pussy into their shit and it's just ai voices and scripts all the way down”

Me, trying to comprehend that sentence at 6am: “WHAT a sentence,”

Partner: “I'm passionate about my short form content, darling. I want the good shit. it feels like I'm sniffing out a specific strain of weed almost (I say this knowing full well I have 0 experience with weed in any form)”

Partner: “I'm in my recommended like Cheech and Chong sniffing proverbial roaches to see what's been smoked and if it's any good so I can find who dealt it so I can get some for myself”

Me, still trying to process:

Partner: “I'm feeling poetic or smthn this morning”

Partner: “feel free to put any of these in the quote book. I don't mind sharing the strains I've found”

Me, already copying things over: “I’ll tag you”

@thorne-5658

[ghoulishgerms]

oswald heacanons because I'm bored and have brainrot:

oswald is not scared of bugs or rats like he just doesn't care. I feel like because he grew up poor he didn't have the best living conditions so he doesn't really mind them. like he'll just pick up a roach by its antenna and chuck it outside while Ed looks on in horror.

he watches evangelion and listens to Nicki Minaj I will not elaborate.

he likes to randomly scare people, like a cat waiting for its owner to come around the corner. like he'll randomly just psych ed out by like pretending he's gonna beat the shit out him.

he used to be a waiter before he worked for Fish and got fired because he kept dropping chicken Alfredo

he can move his knee bone around on his bad leg and does it whenever ed touches it to gross him out

after Ed the dog dies he can't bring himself to get another dog so he gets a cat that is pure evil but he spoils it senseless anyways

has definitely ruined a suit by spilling bong water on it

definitely smokes weed

Ed has found him watching the Golden Girls or some other 80s TV show at like 5 am on multiple occasions

watches jerma

loves white mom things ironically but people think that's his actual sense of humor or that he thinks he's actually slaying when he wears a shirt that says "may contain wine".

really likes animals

eats weird shit, like pregnancy craving level weird (thinking abt the peanut butter and pickle sandwich 💀)

[unmellowyellowfellow]

Chalk Mountain | 0 - Dixie Alvarez Holds a Grudge

draft status: (complete rewrite)

(tw: drug use (marijuana), language, (daddy issues)

A/N: hi, so, this is the introduction chapter to my wip; and this is my first time sharing it. i hope you enjoy, i would love feedback (especially on dialogue. that shits hard). but never more, here it is! in all her rusty glory. everyone, meet Dixie.

The red sand of the west Texas desert gets into every nook and cranny of life around these parts. The texture is rough, yet soft; and leaves a stain on your Sunday best that sticks to ya like a honeybee to a marigold. It sneaks underneath your fingernails and hides in the corners, just out of reach.

I suppose that may not be a problem for some folks. Some like the orange tint to their white button shirts, or the wind blowing in an excuse to call into work on a Wednesday to go get evening coffee and pie with your aunt down the street, or the way it sounds against the windows may resemble the gentle patter of rain against the sill.

Dixie quite liked the color of the red sand, although she called it the red dirt. Her fluffy hair greatly resembled the red dirt below her porch steps that she left her stained boots on when she came home from trekking downtown. She sat down next to her boots and flicked a lighter, watching the flame dance.

She thought of her mother with a furrowed brow and a professional skill to ignore her father when he shouted inside the house about this and that. She missed her brother who ran away from home when they were children, who always had her back when their father would lash out back then. Dixie always wondered, and secretly hoped, that they were out there together somewhere.

Right as Dixie lit up an old roach that she had found in the dirty pockets of her overalls, her lungs burned from the deep inhale as her father came out the door. “Dixie,”

“Yes, Walter,” The smoke trailed through her words.

“What the hell‘re you doing?” He stepped over to her and looked at the spot next to her on the step. She responded in a single nod and scooted away from him to let him sit.

“Drugs,” Dixie offered the cherry towards him and he scoffed.

Dixie and Walter butted heads for as long as she could remember. Her mother always told her it was because Dixie had a spirit filled with fire and gold and passion and Walter’s spirit got used up and dried out years ago when he was just a boy. She never understood how they met and fell in love and always partly blamed him for her disappearance, thinking maybe she did it to get away from him.

However, Declan disappeared before their mother; 6 weeks to be exact. He ran away from home on a warm, rainy night after a family explosion about grades over dinner. Dixie used to sit by the living room bay window and wait for mother to return with her baby brother.

They existed quietly with each other for a moment while a tumbleweed rattled in the wind, tangled against their street sign. ‘Lower Passage’ was what it read before the wind storms sand blasted most of the paint away. Lower Passage was a long dirt road in the middle of nowhere around 8 miles long, out where the banjos play, as Dixie would say. Other people lived down Lower Passage, too, but they all had farmland and nobody paid anyone any mind.

The front yard was filled with the seasonal white flowers that take over like a plague. They danced in the wind with the trees whose leaves were floating in the air to the ground and chillbumps littered Dixie’s arms and legs. In the distance, she heard children laughing and running through the leaves in the side yard.

She closed her eyes and imagined Declan running past the front porch, his burgundy hair tangled in grass and sticks. A little curly fire haired Dixie played with young Declan and danced about in the flowers with a dainty and fragile crown of flowers and weeds upon her head.

Their mother watched from the wooden bench swing they had on the big live oak tree in the yard with a careful eye and a toothy grin. Her mother laughed as little Declan got scared by a bee; the laugh echoed further away once Dixie opened her eyes.

“Where do you think they are, daddy?” She coughed and flicked the ash to the dirt, then smushed it with her sock.

“Who, your mom and Declan?” Walter sighed and lit a cigarette. She nodded and hugged her knees to her chest. “I don’t know, Dixie Anne. If I did, they’d be right here at home.”

“But this ain't home anymore, is it?”

He paused to take a long drag, then blew it out with a shake of his head. “No, I guess not.”

“I’m gonna find them one day. I swear it, I will.”

“Now, I thought I told you it’s time to drop that shit. You can get yourself hurt goin’ out there playin’ detective,”

“I’m not playing anything, I’m taking care of my family,” A crow flew in front of Dixie and cawed loudly and began to peck at the grass.

“I’m your family,”

“No, you sure ain’t.” Dixie ran her tongue along her teeth, then spit some of her lunch carnage onto her fathers shoe. He looked up towards her with a frown that showcased the matching dimple that Dixie inherited from him. She mimicked him and stomped her socked feet across the porch; the screen door exaggerated her dramatic exit by a loud slam against the wooden frame.

[warriors-rewritten-chaos]

Warrior Cats Prefixes- R

I had a WC Name Generator on Perchance that I made but I don't seem to have access anymore, so I'm remaking it here as just a simple list. The definitions used are the ones that Clan cats have for those things, and thus are the origins of the names. Definitions used are whatever I found when I googled it.

Rabbit-: "[noun] a burrowing, gregarious, plant-eating mammal with long ears, long hind legs, and a short tail"

Raccoon-: "[noun] a grayish-brown American mammal that has a foxlike face with a black mask and a ringed tail"

Ragged-: "[adj] torn; [adj] having an irregular or uneven surface, edge, or outline"

Ragweed-: "[noun] a North American plant of the daisy family. Its tiny green flowers produce copious amounts of pollen"

Ragwort-: "[noun] a yellow-flowered plant of the daisy family that is a common weed of grazing land"

Rain-: "[noun] moisture condensed from the atmosphere that falls visibly in separate drops"

Rainbow-: "[noun] an arch of colors formed in the sky in certain circumstances, caused by the refraction and dispersion of the sun's light by rain or other water droplets in the atmosphere"

Raindrop-: "[noun] a single drop of rain"

Rainy-: "[adj] (of weather, a period of time, or an area) having a great deal of rainfall"

Ram-: "[noun] a male sheep"

Rampion-: "[noun] a Eurasian plant of the bellflower family"

Rapid-: "[adj] happening in a short time or at a fast pace; [noun] a fast-flowing and turbulent part of the course of a river"

Raspberry-: "[noun] an edible soft fruit related to the blackberry, consisting of a cluster of reddish-pink drupelets; [noun] the plant that yields the raspberry, forming tall, stiff, prickly stems (canes)"

Rat-: "[noun] a rodent that resembles a large mouse, typically having a pointed snout and a long, sparsely haired tail"

Rattle-: "[verb] make or cause to make a rapid succession of short, sharp knocking sounds, typically as a result of shaking and striking repeatedly against a hard surface or object; [noun] a rapid succession of short, sharp, hard sounds"

Rattlesnake-: "[noun] a heavy-bodied American pit viper with a series of horny rings on the tail that, when vibrated, produce a characteristic rattling sound as a warning"

Raven-: "[noun] a large heavily built crow with mainly black plumage, feeding chiefly on carrion; [adj] of a glossy black color"

Ravine-: "[noun] a deep, narrow gorge with steep sides"

Red-: "[adj] of a color at the end of the spectrum next to orange and opposite violet, as of blood, fire, or rubies; [noun] red color or pigment"

Redwood-: "[noun] either of two giant conifers with thick fibrous bark"

Reed-: "[noun] a tall, slender-leaved plant of the grass family, which grows in water or on marshy ground"

Reflection-: "[noun] the throwing back by a body or surface of light, heat, or sound without absorbing it"

Resin-: "[noun] a sticky flammable organic substance, insoluble in water, exuded by some trees and other plants (notably fir and pine)"

Ridge-: "[noun] a long narrow hilltop, mountain range, or watershed"

Rime-: "[noun] frost formed on cold objects by the rapid freezing of water vapor in cloud or fog"

Ripple-: "[noun] a small wave or series of waves on the surface of water, especially as caused by an object dropping into it or a slight breeze"

River-: "[noun] a large natural stream of water flowing in a channel to the sea, a lake, or another such stream"

Roach-: "[noun] a scavenging insect that resembles a beetle, having long antennae and legs and typically a broad, flattened body"

Roam-: "[verb] move about or travel aimlessly or unsystematically, especially over a wide area"

Roaming-: "[adj] moving about aimlessly or unsystematically, especially over a wide area"

Robin-: "[noun] a small chiefly European thrush resembling a warbler and having a brownish-olive back and orangish face and breast"

Rock-: "[noun] the solid mineral material forming part of the surface of the earth, exposed on the surface or underlying the soil or oceans; [noun] a large piece of rock which has become detached from a cliff or mountain, like a boulder"

Rocky-: "[adj] consisting or full of rock or rocks"

Roe-: "[noun] a small deer, reddish and grey-brown, and well-adapted to cold environments"

Rolling-: "[adj] moving by turning over and over on an axis; [adj] (of land) extending in gentle undulations"

Rook-: "[noun] a gregarious Eurasian crow with black plumage and a bare face, nesting in colonies in treetops"

Rooster-: "[noun] a male domestic chicken"

Root-: "[noun] the part of a plant which attaches it to the ground or to a support, typically underground, conveying water and nourishment to the rest of the plant via numerous branches and fibers"

Rose-: "[noun] a prickly bush or shrub that typically bears red, pink, yellow, or white fragrant flowers, native to north temperate regions"

Rosehip-: "[noun] the ripened usually red or orange accessory fruit of a rose that consists of a fleshy receptacle enclosing numerous achenes"

Rosemary-: "[noun] an evergreen aromatic shrub of the mint family, native to southern Europe"

Rosette-: "[noun] rose-like marking or formation found on the fur and skin of some animals"

Rot-: "[verb] (chiefly of animal or vegetable matter) decay or cause to decay by the action of bacteria and fungi, aka decompose; [noun] the process of decaying"

Rough-: "[adj] having an uneven or irregular surface, one that's not smooth or level; [adj] (of a cat or their behavior) not gentle. Violent or boisterous"

Rowan-: "[noun] a mountain ash tree; [noun] the scarlet berry of the rowan tree"

Rubble-: "[noun] waste or rough fragments of stone"

Ruby-: "[noun] a precious stone consisting of corundum in color varieties varying from deep crimson or purple to pale rose"

Rue-: "[noun] small perennial shrub in the family Rutaceae used as a culinary and medicinal herb"

Rumble-: "[verb] to make a continuous deep, resonant sound; [noun] a continuous deep, resonant sound like distant thunder"

Running-: "[verb] the action of running"

Rush-: "[verb] move with urgent haste; [verb] dash toward (someone or something) in an attempt to attack or capture; [noun] a sudden quick movement toward something"

Russet-: "[adj] reddish brown in color; [noun] a reddish-brown color"

Russula-: "[noun] a widespread woodland toadstool that typically has a brightly colored flattened cap and a white stem and gills"

Rust-: "[noun] a fungal disease of plants which results in reddish or brownish patches"

Rustgill-: "[noun] a small and widely distributed mushroom which grows in dense clusters on dead conifer wood"

Rustle-: "[verb] make a soft, muffled crackling sound like that caused by the movement of dry leaves; [noun] a soft, muffled crackling sound like that made by the movement of dry leaves"

Rusty-: "[adj] reddish brown in color, resembling rust"

Rye-: "[noun] a cereal plant that tolerates poor soils and low temperatures"

[themurderofcrowscollective]

'Deep within me is an eternal storm.'

I don't know what this is gonna be cause I'm higher than a kite right now, but it might have some COD (call of duty) shit in this God this weed is incredible (Adding in our OC Yasei 'Hellhound' Matsuda as the person being labeled as 'You', originally a JJBA OC but is now a multi-fandom OC)

You're a new addition to the 141. You were the best of your unit in the army, you follow orders precisely as told, and you have gone through the best of training that was offered to you as well as your intense disciplinary training. Most soldiers who worked with you deemed you a legend in the army, being one super-soldier with little to no mercy when it came to your job. You wear your scars with honor and pride, allowing the whole world to see them. Anyone who was dumb enough to try to make you feel like you were disgusting or imperfect, they had their ass put back in check after you verbally destroy them. Those who found themselves in a match against you were humiliated and taught a lesson in front of the others. Your specialty is hand-to-hand combat and martial arts, since you trained your body with the best trainers and turned your body into a weapon. An impenetrable fortress, some say. In the field, you're fierce and smart and in the base, you're the best trainer there is as well as a dedicated worker. No one knows how you do it without breaking, without showing emotion or any signs of restless nights and no sleep. Even the missions where you're kidnapped and tortured leaves everyone in awe of how you didn't break despite gaining more scars and injuries. You thought this time would be no different, this new team would be like the others where your inner turmoil is hidden by your best features and feats. Oh you are so wrong. - - - Upon arrival with your bags packed, you're met with Captain John Price on the tarmac. Everyone around you are either returning or leaving for missions, but some stop to glance at you and stare in shock. Anyone who had a friend in the army told them about you anyways, but they still were surprised. " Captain John Price, you're Lieutenant Yasei 'Hellhound' Matsuda right? " " Indeed, it's an honor to meet you sir. " Price chuckles as he leads you inside, anyone who wasn't busy stopping to look at you in surprise. A few even quickly saluted to you, but you didn't do anything except walk past them. First Price shows you to your new room, letting you place your bags on the floor before he takes you to the lounge reserved for the 141. " Lads, meet the new addition to our team. " He says as you both walk in, the people sitting down looking at you instantly. You only seem to recognize one person, that being John 'Soap' MacTavish who seems to instantly remember you. " Matsuda? " " MacTavish. " He starts beaming like crazy, he used to come to you for advice on new detonations as he wanted to become a demolitions expert before the pair of you separated. " I'll be damned, I ne'er thought I'd see you joinin' us. " You nod with your eyes closed, opening them again and focusing on the others. " To those who don't know me, I am Lieutenant Yasei Matsuda but you're free to call me 'Hellhound'. " You seem to lock eyes on the man who stands up and approaches you, donning a skull mask. " Lieutenant Simon Riley, also known as Ghost. Welcome to the team. " You both shake hands for a bit, Ghost returning the firm grip you have on him. The next to introduce himself is Sergeant Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, another named Gary 'Roach' Sanderson and then two operators; Konig and Kim 'Horangi' Hong-jin. Price told you about Alejandro Vargas and Rodolfo Parra once they got done with their introductions, that the pair are on a mission currently. Price then speaks to the others. " Matsuda's paperwork is still processing but the higher ups allowed her to transfer here, so for the next few days, she will not be placed in missions yet but each of you three will be paired with her while she is on training duty. " He looks to Ghost, Gaz and Soap as he finishes speaking, the three nodding. " You're free to go now, see you at dinner. " And with that, you immediately leave. You have to unpack and head to the gym asap anyways.

[r0achinfested]

can i just go back to this era of living in the middle of nowhere in the south with my bf and dad and listening to them fight over stealing each other’s beer and sit on my ass and smoke weed all day

i loved the roaches, the tilted foundation, the wasps, the silent hill nights, my babydaddy totaling 5 cars (two of which were mine and very nice) i promise you i had the time of my life i absolutely adored being 30 minutes away from civilization and deer trying to commit suicide multiple times daily when i drive

before the sex offender ex cop moved in it was a legit methhead couple with kids and i was kinda sus at first but they were actually great parents lowkey 💀 the dude would come ask one us for cigarettes at like 4 am every night and it was totally normal they would take their kids out on tricycles in the middle of the night and run around for hours and i just knew theyd smoked some crack and went crazy

one time the mom texted me and asked me to find her kid and i knocked for like 30 minutes and yelled her name and eventually found her passed out on the trampoline. around 2 am folks

yeah i’ve lived a life for sure

you know there’s so many drunk drivers that far up hwy 58 because there’s literally nothing to do but drink

[ahungeringknife]

365: February 19

Warning for drug use (its just weed)

Sage (Smoke) is such a funny character to me. I can't wait until he shows up again in Entropy.

--

Shin repressed a groan seeing who their forth was Drifter had paired them with for Gambit. ‘Dredgen’ Smoke was a Titan of a special… reputation in Gambit. One Shin didn’t always like playing with because he was a slacker. Not something Shin would ever call a Titan but Smoke was a special sort. “Sah’ guys,” Smoke said over fireteam comms.

“Smoke,” Wolf said, also not excited he was on their team.

“Aw man I get to hang with the Wolf and her posse. That’s sick, man,” Smoke drawled.

“Gotta make it fair somehow I guess,” Savant said with a shrug.

“Fucking Drifter,” Shin grumbled.

“Psh, don’t be a downer Skinner. I ain’t a Dredgen for nothin’,” Smoke scoffed.

“I’m going to kill him,” Shin said over private fireteam comms with Savant and Wolf.

“No way. He’s a Falling Star. Kill him once we melt the Prime,” Savant complained.

“Like you need the help,” Wolf scoffed.

“Girl! Like you need the help,” Savant cried making Wolf laugh. They’d talked right over Drifter’s monologue about Gambit and were transmatted into the Haul in simulated EDZ.

The first half of the match went fine. Wolf, as always, was their anchor on the bank keeping the blockers down. Shin let Savant and Smoke scoop the motes and worried about just slaying and only stopped to argue with Savant over who got to invade. “You guys fight too much. You should just do rock paper scissors,” Smoke said over comms as Shin was about to give Savant some friendly fire.

“No one asked you-

“That sounds like a great idea!” Wolf said. “Figure it out. The other side is fat with motes and I don’t want to deal with Knights solo.”

Shin scowled. “Fine,” and he held his hand out to Savant.

“You should just let me do it,” Savant complained but complied.

“No. On one. Three, two one,” he said quickly. “HA! Paper beats rock, fuck you,” and he very nearly did a backflip through the invasion portal.

“He’s such a brat,” Savant said over team comms while Shin was bringing out his sniper rifle.

“Beat you fair and square, Hunter. Don’t be a sore loser,” Smoke said.

Shin lined up a pair frantically running up to their bank to deposit motes and got them both as perfect domes. Across the map someone shot at him and he swung his gun around to find who was shooting him as his shielding was chipping away from pulse rifle fire. He managed to get a shot off but only on the body and another gun started shooting him as well. He bailed from his lane and tried to get some cover. He heard the sound of Light and looked up as a shadow flew across his line of sight and he was just in time to see a rocket headed right for him.

He came back on his team’s side. “Good kills,” Wolf said as he jogged to join them again.

Shin ran to go help Savant and Smoke but noticed Smoke was missing at the beach. Where the fuck was he? He helped Savant mop up the beach and on his way back to the bank he made a detour to pick up some ammo and found Smoke in the dilapidated building with his helmet cracked and smoke was pouring out of his neck. Shin’s eyes narrowed and he went over to the Titan and smacked his helmet so it spun. “Knock that shit off, we’re in the middle of a match,” he snapped.

Smoke grabbed his helmet and pulled it back around straight. “You and the others got it on lock. Chill Skinner man,” Smoke said lazily. “But yeah yeah fine before you do that Hunter thing and explode like a little chihuahua,” and Smoke pulled the roach of some hand rolled joint from out of his helmet and flicked it onto the ground. “Little Hunters always so yappy when I’m just trying to have a good time.” And he walked off rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. Shin stalked after him fuming.

Smoke did get back into the game and they summoned the Prime quickly after. The other team sent over an invader a few times but they were focused as quickly as possible while the team also dealt with envoys and fodder. The other team also had their Prime and Shin and Savant took turns feeding the Prime with the deaths of their enemies but the game was going on a while. Drifter had stacked the other side with Dredgens as well because anything else would just get rolled and their invaders usually got a pick or two themselves.

“This is getting real boring,” Smoke said at one point and Shin glared at him where he was leaning against a wall holding his shot gun.

“We’re literally in the middle of a game!”

“Yappy yappy,” Smoke made a ‘talking’ motion with his hand as he put his shot gun away. “Let’s get this over with,” and he braced himself against the wall.

“Not like we haven’t been doing that this-“ Shin jumped when Smoke launched off the wall in a snap of such loud thunder it made his ears ring. Their Prime still had a sizable amount of health yet from the last invade but they’d cycled their envoys a few times.

“Hey watch where you’re flying!” Savant cried as Smoke blasted past him and Shin moved to keep the Prime in his line of sight, and Smoke.

The explosion on Smoke’s impact with the Primeval made the bar on the top of Shin’s HUD lurch and disappear. Smoke was standing where the Prime had been, dusting off some Taken dust from his hands and gauntlets. “And that’s a wrap,” he said.

“Woo! What a smash!” Drifter cried. “Guess I’ll need to get creative to slow you three down.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Drifter,” Wolf said and they were transmatted back to the main ship.

Shin poked at his rewards; a pair of gloves his Ghost was dismissive of so didn’t bother with them. Smoke took his helmet off as he inspected his new AR and snapped his fingers at the end of a short rolled cigarette in his mouth. “Oi! No smoking on the Derelict!” Drifter yelled from his podium.

“Hold your horses, Drifter,” Smoke said.

“Next time keep your shit together, Sage,” Shin growled at him, using his actual name because he hated calling anyone by their Dredgen name. It still pissed him off Drifter was doing this.

“Yap yap yap, Skinner,” Sage said and had his Ghost dismantle the gun into glimmer and shards.

“I said no smoking, Sage,” Drifter yelled from the distance.

“You’re just annoying,” Shin growled at him.

Sage looked at Shin with the most relaxed look he could muster. Sage was a dirty blonde with tanned skin and light brown eyes and could have been attractive if he wasn’t such a lazy stoner. “You really need to learn to chill out, broski.” He took the rolled cigarette out of his mouth and offered it to Shin. Shin didn’t take it. “Guess you’re Wolf’s friend first not Hunter’s,” he scoffed and took it back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wolf asked.

Sage smiled at her and Shin’s glare through his helmet increased. “With the greatest respect Y-W; you’re a Vanguard pet. Nice proper spick and span Guardian,” he put the cigarette back in his mouth. “Anyway. Later kiddos,” and his Ghost transmatted him out.

Shin made an angry noise. “He’s so annoying,” he growled.

“More than me?” Savant asked.

“It’s close!”

Savant chuckled. “That’s impressive I guess.”

Wolf patted his arm. “Just get over it.”

“Oi! You three going to fuck off or what? I got the next group about to spawn in,” Drifter called.

“Yeah yeah,” she waved him off and her Ghost came out to transmat her. Savant just climbed out of the reward pit to bother Drifter; gross. Shin huffed and signaled for his Ghost to take him out too.