#if I can make the bed I can have a small bowl of weed and maybe. maybe that'll help

[knightdykes]

trying so hard to pull myself out of bed but I just feel so heavy and weighed down by the dread and anxiety. I should make the bed or brush my teeth or SOMETHING. something that isnt doomscrolling.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (x) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7 p8 p9

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : after three resentful weeks apart, only matt and y/n could find themselves more fond of each other.

warnings : angst, fluffy, mentions of alcohol and weed, sort of proofread

mickey speaks : THANK U FOR UR PATIENCE SWEET ANGELS HERE’S THE 10TH PART FOR YOU!!! tgwtt is already in double digits 🥹 only like 8 more parts to go

THIS IS PART TEN GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST PLEASE!!!

"COME on y/n we'll have so much fun!"

you haven't had a night out in weeks.

following matt's party, you swore off alcohol until your own birthday in mid-september, afraid of the amount you'd allow yourself to consume now that you're feelings are supremely hurt and bitterness coated your tongue.

it was difficult to turn down the first week, despite the smell and taste of any drink making your stomach turn you craved the drunken effect and secretly wanted to run into matt- just to see what he'd have the nerve to say to you. but the mature, wiser part of your brain knows there is nothing good to come from spiteful drinking. so you've declined every weekend.

you know in your heart that your friends only want you to feel good and have fun with them. it's the only reason you've tolerated this current conversation for so long.

"i believe you! but i'm just saying i'll have just as much fun with this bowl of strawberries and my bed," you reach into a cabinet for one of the many off-white glass bowls.

"baby you haven't been out with us in so long, we miss you!" remi beams kicking her legs as she sits atop your counter, fully dressed and decorated for her night out (contrasting the bare face, oversized tee, and panties you wear).

you sigh and look over to the three girls huddled in your kitchen, "no, you guys know 'm not drinking right now," you shake your head and push off of the counter heading towards the fridge in search of your berries.

"i'm just confused on why you're suddenly so strict on drinking? and regardless of the drinking you could have fun without it if you loosen up a bit..." erin replies while resting her body against the wall next to remi's spot.

you roll your eyes while your face is still in your fridge before shutting it back, "i don't understand what's not clicking erin, i don't want to go out at all! i want to stay at home and be away from drunk people and watch something brainless and then i wanna go take a fucking bath. i'm so tired of having to explain and repeat myself. please go, please have a good time, and please- respectfully, mind your business."

you run water over your strawberries and andrea's eyes widen as she turns back towards the counter to pour herself another shot.

"alright, whatever.” erin shakes her head, “dre, remi, i'm gonna go wait outside this is annoying. she can stay bitter," she walks out and whispers, "bitch," under her breath before shutting the door.

it's silent for a second as you begin to harshly cut the stems off of the fruit, remi comes behind you and wraps a caring arm over your shoulder for a hug, "are you okay?"

"yes, i'm fine, you can go have fun..." you turn to face her and offer a strawberry.

"i really do miss you,” you kisses your shoulder and bites into the strawberry, “love you," she reminds you as she grabs her bag and dismisses herself to check with erin. you nod your head and continue to stare blankly as you repeatedly cut.

andrea speaks up after hearing the door fully shut. she breathes heavily as she stares down at her hands on the counter, "cariña ("honey"), you’re not a bitch.”

“i know…” your voice is small.

“i know you do. i also know something’s hurting you badly right now and i selfishly wish you’d fucking tell me so i could help.” she licks her glossed lips, “but as long as you’re being kind to yourself, i can deal with you keeping this to yourself.”

your eyes brim with salty tears and when you let out a broken sniffle she's immediately by your side. "nooo don’t cry, i’m already pre-drunk! you know i will too!" you try to continue preparing your fruit but andrea turns your body to make room for a warm hug. you're quick to tuck your face into her perfumed neck and let out your feelings through cry's.

you had always thought that what andrea (or anyone) didn't know about your sex life with matt wouldn't kill her, but quite frankly it's killing you. you want to tell her everything he’s ever made you feel- for all andrea knows matt was once a silly crush and currently a little less than a friend to you.

but at the same time you just know she would tell you to stop seeing him if she knew everything. she would remind you that at your core you are far too caring and attached to handle recurring casual sex with him in the first place.

"i'm so sorry, drea. i really wanna tell you but i’m not ready." you croak pitifully.

not ready to accept the embarrassment of wanting him to like you this bad.

and for someone as willingly vulnerable as you, you’re especially not ready to hear her scold you a little for somehow hurting your own feelings and putting your friendship with erin on a thin line over some guy.

your words only confuse her brain more, but she can only continue to rub circles into your back and silently pray you didn’t do something illegal or, like, morally cruel.

౨ৎ

matt would love to say he hasn’t thought about you since you bitched out on him the night of his birthday, but he could never just blatantly lie.

he can say he has gone the past few weeks without reaching out to you- which mostly speaks to both of your stubbornness and pride.

in fact, you’re part of his reason for having his own night in tonight- though it’s far less sadistic of a reason than yours. he’s simply grown bored of the repetitive night life he and his friends have.

you were always there for him to tease and secretly fuck around with whenever your friend groups would combine for the night. but as of late he’s left sitting at the bar swigging down beers and scrolling on his phone (sometimes he’d get irrationally irritated at you for not posting on your instagram or snapchat stories, feeling a as if it was a direct punishment to remove him from knowing any details about your life) or until the rest of the group throw the towel in.

on the worst and most irritating of nights he’ll take an uber home by himself. and those were the nights he would get so close to being irrational- showing up to your house and confronting you was oh so enticing. but he’d talk himself out of it and go home to fuck his fist like you’d probably tell him to do.

and on the most horny and pathetic of nights he'd end up in the backseat of his car finger-fucking erin with her tongue in his mouth. it ended at that though, matt's skin started to crawl thinking of when you rode him in the front seat not too long ago. he had pinched his eyes shut and pulled erin's hands away from his zipper, swaying her with some sweet "i just wanted to make you feel good s’all" and a kiss before she left and he awkwardly drove himself home- pondering how little self control he had to be desperate enough to do even get that far.

so, he didn’t even bother to go out tonight. when chris and nick asked him through his closed door, he told them he’ll stay in for some “peace and quiet.” really, he just couldn’t stand to be disappointed by the guaranteed lack of you being there.

he sits in his desk chair, legs spread casually, and sketchbook held against his thigh as he scribbles around to formulate a few rough outlines for upcoming clients. somewhere in the mix he begins to sketch out a familiar cartoon cat, which only irritates him and makes him close the book abruptly, shoving it into his desk’s drawer.

matt rubs his hands over his face a few times and lifts himself from the chair, heading straight for his bedside table. he bites at his lips while digging through the drawer, eventually finding the pretty red hot blunt you rolled and gifted him.

he makes his way out to the patio, not bothering to turn the outdoor lights on; blunt, lighter, and phone in tow. he slouches into one of the many chairs near the glass door and places the blunt between his lips, shuffling as he digs in his back pocket for his lighter.

the spark of the bright flame highlights his focused face for only a few seconds while he pricks the end of the misshapen yet smoothly rolled blunt. he breathes in the smoke immediately, throwing the lighter onto a table nearby. he tilts his backwards to blow out swirls of smoke above him.

matt initially wants to wait to call you until he feels high enough, mostly to give him an excuse for calling in the first place because he knows you’ll be expecting one. but he can't fucking wait, he wants to know what you're doing right now.

matt continues to effortlessly inhale and exhale several hits as he searches his phone for your contact.

his thumb hovers over the dull button that would change a lot for him. calling you means looking like a dumbass, as if he can't handle not knowing you (apparently he can’t but he wouldn’t admit to it). calling you means he’s breaking this implied break up- for complete lack of better terms.

but who’s to say you’ll even answer and give him a chance to do any of that? and suddenly his phone is vibrating in his hand as he raises it to his ear.

it takes four rings for you to answer, though you're completely silent on the other end. he waits and you wait. he truly didn’t think this far ahead. you only give him a few extra seconds to be silent before you hang up all together.

matt kisses his teeth and redials. when you eventually answer again he speaks through the smoke in his lungs, "hi. why'd you hang up?"

"matt, don't call my phone and expect me to speak to you first." your voice has a bite to it that still surprises matt a little. it's so infrequent for you to be harsh or upset (as long as matt has known you, you've been nothing but cheerful and well… sunny) that it's oddly pleasant to see how you handle negative emotions- it reminds him that you’re not always good, something he’d always weirdly envied about you.

he releases more smoke in the air around him, "my bad, sweetheart."

"just tell me why you’re calling. are you drunk or ...?"

"no. i just wanted to know what you're doing."

you sigh heavily, "why does that concern you...?"

his eyes pinch as he stares out into the dark backyard, "why're you bein' so difficult? 'm just trying t-"

"matt. get there, please." you rush, though you secretly are enjoying hearing his voice and the romanticized idea that he must care a little if he’s reaching out again.

“yeah.” he takes a breath, “i don’t know. i’m just, like, here…by myself, and i wanted to remember what you sounded like.”

you smirk to yourself but drop it immediately, “okay…well, this is what i sound like.”

“yes, so soothing, i could fall asleep right here,” you can hear him audibly stretch.

“oh, i’m putting you to sleep?” you tease.

“yeah, i need you to come over and wake me up,” he inhales once more.

you’re silent and he breathes out again, “fuck was that too much- i’m sorry.”

“definitely. i need you to calm down, sir.”

“oh i’m so calm, baby,” he moans out playfully.

“matt, i’ll hang up-”

“woah! let’s not make such rash decisions?!”

“okay then.”

“thank you for answering,” his voice is muffled, “you could’ve blocked me- i talked to you so crazy that night and i do feel bad about, i want you to know.” he pauses and you silently process as he continues to compliment you, “you’re the only woman besides, like, my mother, who is just classy as fuck and way too kind to everyone whether they deserve it or not.”

you could never have expected to hear any words of admiration from matt in regards to you. “oh my god, are you near a couple of trees right now? how’d you get so sappy all of a sudden?”

matt takes a second to register your joke before his entire face crinkles and he shakes his head, giggling, “bad joke. such a bad joke.”

you let yourself laugh a little as well before pulling together, “thank you for apologizing, i honestly didn’t expect that from you.”

“well i don’t hand them out like that so i guess you’re lucky or something.”

“i guess i am…” you smile into your words a little.

“what have you been doing?”

“like the past few weeks or right now?”

“i was talking about right now but you can say both.”

“just was checking! i don’t want to talk to much, i know you’d hate to listen to it.”

“heyyy! really? throwin’ some shit i just told you i didn’t mean right in my face like that?”

“i’m sorry i had to!”

“you were holding on to that one, huh?”

“just a little.”

“okay, tell me everything and i’ll listen.”

“i know i made it seem like i’ve been doing a lot but i’ve honestly just been working a bunch. it’s not as much of a nightmare as it sounds though- working long shifts has helped me fall asleep quicker. i’ve also started cooking a lot more whenever im bored which andrea looooves. and… um, right now i’m taking a bath.”

matt’s eyes widen and he chuckles, “dammit! i knew i should’ve facetimed instead!”

you bite your lip to hold back a laugh yourself, “what are you doing, matt?”

“guess.”

“i mean, i know you’re smoking but you could be in a random bedroom at a party or like, at some other bitch’s house…i don’t know, i’m just guessing!”

“never that,” he laughs- which you can’t decipher as a sarcastic or genuine one -and explains further, “‘m at home, outside with that perfect little blunt you made.”

“oh, for real?”

“uh huh, she’s treating me real good.”

“i’m glad. can you finish telling me how you’ve been?”

“yeah, um-”

“mattttt!” a very drunk nick suddenly yells while sliding open the glass door.

matt literally jumps and is immediately annoyed, you can hear it in his voice despite it being muffled now, “dude, you scared the shit out of me! what do you need?”

“hello to you too, ugh, i forgot you’re all moody right now. what are you even doing it’s all dark and shit?” nick hangs on the door has he peeks outside.

matt gets up to close the door again, “mind your business, nick. move, you’re in the way.”

“hmm, you are so weird.” nick squints his eyes and turns away yelling chris’ name in a blood curdling scream (for absolutely no reason besides the fact that he thought it’d be funny to see chris drunkenly run into the living room).

“hey, you still there?”

“mhm, yes”

“nick and chris just got back from the bar so i’ll have to help them chill out, um, yeah. i wanna hang out again. not even just to fuck if you aren’t cool with that yet, if we can be friends around our friends we can be friends by ourselves.”

friends? you and matt? hm. “that’d be nice, do you wanna just come over like usual?”

“i mean i could but we can do whatever you want, seems like you’ve been home a lot so, you know.” his voice gets more distracted as he speaks

“okay, i’ll let you know. good night.”

“sounds good, sweetheart.”

౨ৎ

MATT - 6:30 PM

Are you done yet?

Y/N - 6:52 PM

yes i’m coming now

-

“i’m sorry again for keeping you so late y/n, you really didn’t have to stay and help me close!” your coworker, angela, beams as she follows you out of the back door with a trash bag.

“don’t worry about it,” you smile to her as you walk with her to the large dumpster on the side of the building.

she throws a bag the size of her torso into the bin with a mumble of ‘ew’ before turning to you, “don’t say that! i know you have that date thing tonight, i don’t want you to be late.”

“i told you it’s not a date! we’re hanging out as friends.”

she rolls her eyes while putting her travel sized hand sanitizer back into her purse, “y/n don’t start with that…it’s totally a date from what you’ve told me.”

you both continue to walk towards the back parking lot,“trust me, he’s made it clear he’s not that kind of guy.”

“then why waste your time?”

right when you go to defend yourself you hear a car door shut, drawing your attention to the man of the hour, who’s locking the doors of his sleek black suv as his jaw works a minty piece of gum.

his black tee exposes his tattoos and his jean shorts are held up with his favorite black belt. you can see his light eyes are squinted due to the sun’s undying brightness from where you stand.

angela turns to you with a full smirk and softly slaps your arm, whispering and giggling, “girl, he’s hot!”

“oh my god!” you have an uncontrollable smile as you look at her, “stop it!” you look over again and this time matt is leaning against his car, ready to catch your eye and send you a wave of his fingers with his eyebrows raised.

you wave back then turn away once more, “‘kay i should probably go but i’ll see you wednesday, right?” you lean in for a hug.

“yes i’ll be here,” she smiles into the embrace as you kiss into the air to the side of her head, “you’ll have to give me all the deets!”

“mhm,” you hum as you both part ways, “bye ang!”

you approach matt without any rush and he takes the time to gaze over your complexion (far more radiant than the last time he’d seen you) and the way your mini jean skirt compliments the blushed red top you’re wearing. “hi sunny,” he grins and reaches a hand out to bring you into a hug, only for you to set the handle of your small purse in it. he kisses his teeth playfully, “it’s still like that, huh?”

“like what?” you condescendingly look up at him.

“alright, girl,” he dismisses, “where are we goin?“

“it’s a surprise for a reason matt!”

“okay… then i’m assuming you’ll drive?”

“not exactly..” you spin on your heel and walk away from him as a hint to follow you.

he wraps an arm around your shoulder as the two of you walk down the busy sidewalk, he gives a couple of glances down at your phone while also navigating the two of you. “metro?” he reads aloud.

“mhm,” you reply and smile to yourself while adding the tickets to your apple wallet.

“wow, you really planned this shit out.”

“i’ve never half-assed something in my life,” you say as you both stop at a cross walk.

“never? you have a brother, right?” he asks and you nod, “i’m sure he’d be able to come up with something.”

“probably,” you shrug and grab his wrist when the walking sign lights. “we’re gonna make it just in time, the bus comes at 7:10.”

౨ৎ

the seating on the bus is comfortably squished; you sit in the window seat and matt next to you, moving his limbs inward to give room to those walking in the isle.

you reapply a faded shade of red, black cherry to your lips while using your phone camera. matt watches with his lips pursed in awe. “that shade looks nice on you,” he says softly.

you’re already feeling giddy internally and he’s forcing you to blow your unbothered cover at this point, “thank you,” you smile and turn to see him already close to your face, looking at your eyes then lips. you just have to close the space by giving him a small kiss, mumbling, “it looks good on you too, see,” you move your phone so that he can see his lips outlined with the stain of you.

he laughs and pouts his lips while checking himself out in your camera, making the risky move to take a photo of himself, before giving your cheek a kiss.

౨ৎ

“jesus, for forty fucking minutes you better have brought me to an all inclusive resort!” matt complains while dramatically stretching his back.

the sun was now peeking down and the flashing lights of santa monica pier were extra enticing. “stop, we’re gonna have so much fun! look!” you point at the energetic strip with a childish grin.

“alright, let’s go then,” he tilts his head towards the fair.

౨ৎ

“definitely could have gone without that last ride- wayyy too many dips,” matt holds his stomach dramatically.

“i could tell, you were screamin’ like crazy,” you smirk as the two of you stand in the line at one of the many food trucks. two hours into being there and you’ve rode almost all of the rides, it was expected for matt to ask to stop for some sort of food eventually.

“barely.” he rolls his eyes, “what do you want?”

“i’ll have a water and one of those bomb pops,” you tell him.

“that’s not really food, are you gonna be good with that for right now?” he clarifies.

“yes, matt. thank you,” you smile and matt waves you off as he approaches the tall window to order.

“hey, what’s up man? i’ll just have a water, one of those fourth of july a bomb pops, medium fry and a modelo in a can please,” he flashes a smile and pays quickly.

you thank him and the cashier as you take hold of the items you asked for. “can we go walk on the beach?” you ask him.

“yeah, it’ll be dark as shit, but yeah,” he responds lightly and shoves a few fries into his mouth.

౨ৎ

“when i was younger my mom would bring me and my brother to the pier every summer since i was seven maybe?” the waves crash softly in the background as matt lays between your legs, despite the scratchy denim of your skirt. “when i was eleven my brother would want to go off with his friends in high school and my mom wasn’t a fan of the rides, so she would bring me to walk on the beach with her instead.” you recall out loud after matt had asked what made you want to come here today.

“mmm, reminds me of east coast beaches when i was a kid. we’d make a whole day out of it and pack up my mom’s minivan.” you stretch his scalp hypnotically, “just being rowdy and annoying as hell on the ride there and sleeping on the way back. being a kid is, like, the best and we never realize it when we’re there.”

“isn’t it kind of sweet that we don’t? kids don’t even understand the concept of missing childhood or being nostalgic until they’re older. if eight year old me were constantly dwelling on what’s passed i know she’d go insane. i mean, even now, everyone is always chasing previous feelings and never fully in tune with the one present.” you look out at the waves that softly build up and crash repeatedly.

matt licks his lips and opens his eyes, sitting up from your lap, “holy shit, sunny,” he kisses you and pulls away to laugh, “you just made me sound like a dumbass.”

he keeps a hold of your face, “matt you’re not dumb, everyone is nostalgic for something,” you kiss him again to seal your words.

matt pulls away and you stands up and begin to remove your shirt leaving you in a lacy bra, “come on,” you tilt your head and matt immediately stands up to cover you.

“the fuck do you mean, ‘come on’?” he starts to laugh while looking around for anyone around.

you roll your eyes at his protection and unbutton your skirt, “take a dip with me.”

“no?! y/n, that water is freezing...”

you pull down your pants to reveal a small pair of matching lacy panties that matt can barely see in the dark but he just knows would send him over the edge.

“matttt,” you pout and bring his hands to your exposed ass, lifting his chin to capture his lips in your own, “please?” you look up at him.

he pinched his eyes shut, “baby, put your clothes back on…”

“alright be lame,” you take his hands off of you and run into the empty beach with a freeing laugh.

matt stands there, not wanting to yell and draw attention to you both, but also not wanting to freeze to death.

“matt! the water’s not even that cold, come here!” you exclaim, wading in the shallow water.

“no, i’ll just wait here until you’re done cooling off…”

“matt, please! what if i-” you pretend to fall backwards and start to fake a drowning scene that has him undressing to his boxers quickly.

he ignores the rush in his blood from the surprise of the water’s temperature in favor of getting you out of there. he calls your name over and over, the pitch black look of the ocean doing absolutely nothing to help.

he’s pretty freaked out when you come back up and jump on his back yelling, “you saved me! you saved me!” with a cackle.

matt immediately groans and slaps the water, “fuck you, why would you ever do some shit like that?!”

you giggle and he throws you off his back easily, turning around to be face to face with you as you wipe your eyes, “oh my god matt, my mascara’s gonna run!”

“maybe we should think of these things before running into the ocean?”

you stop wiping underneath your eyes to forcefully push him under the water, giggling at the sound of the crash and his “don’t-!” right before.

“no more,” he spits out water and scolds you when he comes back up, inching closer to you and holding you by your hips as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“okay,” you agree and go to kiss his wet face just as he quickly unhooks you and throws you back under.

“matt!” you squeal as you resurface to hear him laughing, “dude, i’m gonna kill you.”

“truce, truce, truce!” he repeats and backs away from you.

“yeah, you better run,” you threaten.

౨ৎ

“your eyelashes are like sooo long when they’re wet,” you compliment as you stare at matt under the moon’s light.

he pulls you closer him to stop his mouth from chattering due to the cold, “i’ll give you my lash routine,” he jokes.

“i realized something when we got off the phone the other day,” you bring up, as your eyes run over each of his facial features.

“tell me,” he rolls his icy lips into his mouth.

“i never said sorry for being nasty to you on your birthday.”

matt’s eyes squint, “it’s fine, i’m not hung up on that shit. we said we’re good, right?”

“yes, but-”

“alright then,” he shrugs and squeezes your ass in reassurance.

a smile graces your face and and you let your head fall to his shoulder, whispering, “matt…i’m cold now.”

“i’ve been waiting for you to say that, oh my god!”

౨ৎ

you both suffer as you put your clothes back on over your wet skin. you’re both chattering messes and simply cannot stop laughing about it as you make your way back to the boardwalk’s strip of raging bright lights.

you don’t get far before you’re begging matt to win you an oversized faux fur leopard print coat, “it’s just what i need, please!”

and he’s spent almost two twenties replaying this stupid game over and over again. you’re a pretty good cheerleader though.

“come on matt, you got it this time! no pressure! it’s only like i’m dying of hypothermia!” he deadpans as he looks over to you, “what?”

it was a simple game of ring toss- that was most definitely rigged, but besides you reminding him this and saying you didn’t need the coat that much, the stand runner’s comments doubting matt was enough to fuel him to continue playing until he wins.

and somehow he tosses the perfect ring, watching it land and swivel around the bottle in victory. you both outwardly celebrate with screams and a very public kiss, that the two of you just can’t stop sharing today.

“congratulations,” the employee boredly says.

“thank you sir, thank you.” matt then obnoxiously turns around and yells out a speech to the random passersby “i wanna thank my mother, my grandmother, brothers, dog, and you people for giving me this opportunity to win something so grand for my sweet sunshine!” you stop giggling to give a royal wave to the many people judging the two of you, “thank you santa monica!” he blows a kiss and you both spin around to claim your prize.

“you two are like cartoon characters,” the stand runner says. and as soon as you start to grin at him he corrects, “that wasn’t a compliment.”

“whatever man, just give the pretty girl the fucking coat,” matt blinks at him. as the man walks away to grab the fluff off of the rack a few people stop by the table and matt warns them, “if i were you i’d keep walkin’, this guy’s a first-class hater.”

you drag matt by his arm back over to you, “did you take your socially-overbearing pills today?!”

“i have no clue, i think im too cold for my brain to process embarrassment anymore.”

“here’s that coat,” the man hands you it with a shake of his head.

“thank you, sir!” you exclaim and immediately fit your arms from the sleeves, “this is everything i’ve ever wanted!” you say as your jaw goes slack.

“you look good,” matt agrees, “you also look warm, so now i’m jealous.”

“let’s go get you something warm, baby.”

౨ৎ

after a trip to a random gift shop for a hoodie, matt whined about needing real food so bad.

so the two of you stand at the hostess stand in a small mexican restaurant on the strip.

“for two?”

“yes, thank you.”

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, okay?” matt speaks close to your ear and you simply nod and watch him walk off.

you wait a few moments before the hostess offers to take you to your table, “did you want to go sit now or wait for your boyfriend?” she asks kindly.

you try not to make it so apparent that you enjoy the idea of you being matt’s girlfriend, “yeah, i can sit now, he’ll find me.”

౨ৎ

“i’ll have the chicken burrito please with extra rice,” matt orders as he sits across from you.

“and i’ll have the four birria tacos please,” you hand her the menu kindly.

you both are bundled up ridiculously with frizzy hair and barely-dry clothes, you’re surprised anyone agreed to serve you.

“alright, that should be out shortly!”

when she walks away matt asks, “why didn’t you get a drink? i’m just curious.”

“i swore off drinking until my birthday,” you shrug and fall back into the plush of the booth.

“mm, not smoking either?” he sips his water.

“i mean i haven’t smoked since early august but no i didn’t purposely stop.”

matt nods, “well if you were to drink, what are you ordering? i usually go for a corona but i wanna try something different.”

“oh strawberry margarita, a hundred percent. hits everytime.”

“i’ve never had a margarita so i’ll try it.”

your jaw drops, “hell yeah you’re gonna try it, i can’t believe you!”

“what can i say?” matt shrugs.

౨ৎ

matt plays with the toothpick in his mouth as you both sit in your spots for the bus ride home. he got to enjoy his first margarita and you took multiple pictures to document it, he bought you churros to go, and now you both are the most tired you’ve been in a while.

you quietly respond to texts that andrea sent you hours ago, asking what you’re doing and if you’ll be home soon, while matt lays his head on your shoulder sleepily.

eventually you shut your phone off and calmly rest your head against the chilled window for the rest of the ride.

•

[stqrgir1e]

smoking with tgc boys !!!

isaac, larry, bigt, yumi, and nick! <3 written while I was genuinely stoned for authenticity. jorge killed it with using the words bro and homeboy way too much 😝

mentions of . . . smoking, drug use, cuss words??? established relationship w/ reader + girl mentioned like once otherwise pretty gn. this might be a bit confusing if your a non-smoker since i wrote for a stoner!reader ( petnames used ➜ hon, babe, baby, pretty girl,)

Isaac ➜ we all know homeboy is more of a drinker. it definitely would be on a dare or bet, he would wanna prove to you he could handle his substances.

"who said i greened out after one joint?... tanner did?... he's lying, we can smoke tonight and ill show you." he would act all smug about it until he actually was face to face with the lit joint.

he would hold it like a cigarette, and when you stifle a laugh at the fact he does so- he would shrug it off while taking a loooong drag of the joint. exhaling before having a small coughing fit. you couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, his face a shade pinker after the humiliating reaction to the joint. but its Isaac- so of course he would brush it off like nothing.

"been a while since I smoked hon... maybe you should finish the rest of it." he would say nonchalantly while passing the joint back to you- insisting you have to finish it. would use the excuse 'he's doing some voiceovers for a few videos tomorrow and can't risk losing his voice.'

def vibes more with edibles. but he always takes half because thats what the back of the packaging says 😡 "why are you taking three! it says half right here!" he would then shove the packaging dramatically in your face- really he didnt want you to see how low his tolerance was and how high he got off half a 15mg edible.

would end up passing out in bed w/ you, gets sleepy especially with edibles/indica. you would mess around and tease him a bit- poking at him while joking how he cannot handle his weed. "nooo, im jus' always down for a nap with you, pretty girl..." he would mumble half asleep, voice drowsy from the high. hella affectionate when high, chronic problem with playing with your hair or like, maybe any bracelets you have on??? i hope this makes sense bro

larry ➜ isn't afraid of the idea of weed, he usually just saves it for social events. like how people are social smokers with cigarettes? larry is like that with weed.

he would get all hyped at a party after seeing you and tanner sharing a one-hitter. "bro! imma need some of that right now." he would act hella shady for comedic effect as well. taking the toke while looking around all mischievously like there was feds hiding in the crowd of the party. you and tanner were stoned- so obviously yall laugh at his antics.

bro is a menace after one hit, isnt even that high he just does it for shits and giggles. lets say nicks filming or some shit- larry is the star of the show. talking his head off in front of the camera while blowing some cart smoke right at the lens. "you see this? its y/n's pen... *takes long hit off cart*... gettin lit tonight." he would definitely hold back his coughs.

speaking of carts, larry is one of those rare mfs that prefer carts over bud. why? he thinks there more convenient- and bud always leaves his nose runny. last time you guys had a smoke sesh date he used up all your sanrio kleenex after smoking 2 bowls 😡

"weed makes my nose run babe! maybe we should've stuck to the cart..." he would say after you complained about him sniffling for the third time. while you were busy explaining why you prefer bud, he would sneakily grab your cart from your hoodie pocket and sneak a few hits. bro is ruthless when it comes to that thing 💀 if you tell him you got the pen on you he's beggin for it.

in fact larry would get a little too comfy with the cart, accidentally almost greening out at a target once when he hit it one too many times in the car. "lets just sit down..." + "on the floor?... in target?..." + "yes babe im telling you just trust me." really thought he was gonna vomit and needed an excuse to sit for a second.

bigt ➜ omg brotha was all over you when you wanted to smoke for your first date!!! he had two little rolling trays set up on his bed prepared for your smoke sesh/movie date.

low-key adorable... literally went out and bought a new one-hitter so you guys would have matching ones, they were green and had little turtles on top of them ): (isnt that so much fun) he wasn't even tryna be cheesy or anything genuinely was just very passionate about smoking. i def feel like him and yumi were smokers in high school so he knows a thing or two abt mary jane. 🤨

"after this bowl i have a gummy we can split..." his tolerance is quite high so he would wanna keep going even after like the fifth bowl. he likes to give his lungs a break though so no carts for him after like the third bowl. edibles from there on out. you know he's gonna be all weird n shit and make you guys split the edible by biting it in half. (like that lady and the tramp shittt bro.)

but at social events and parties??? he's a lot more closed off with smoking- more of a drinker at parties. if he is gonna get high he'll take an edible. "baby weed these days is crazy! I knew a guy who knew a guy who knew guy that got laced with crack!!!" yea he was being sarcastic duhhhh but he was genuinely scared of getting laced at a party.

tanner is a avid cart enthusiast tho!!! he would only use like smoke shop ones though- no street carts for tttt. he would probably prefer zaza's, hes a classic man with taste so he would prefer the cereal milk strain. carts are his go to for when hes just vibing in his room since there pretty much odorless. "I wasn't lying when I said I was smoking zaza!" finds the word zaza hilarious especially when he's stoned.

he takes maaanny tolerance breaks and would probably make you do the same. if you really struggled with staying away from weed he would make t-breaks fun or some shit. (like making a fun little tolerance break sticker chart 😩)

softwilly ➜ nick fr said 🤨 when you asked him to split a bowl with you one random friday night. he eventually agreed because you already had everything set up and he didnt wanna say no after you put all this effort into it ):

"ow! fuck... can you do the lighter babe..." needs help with the lighter, you guys were sat in kind of a awkward position smoking out of his bedroom window since he didnt want any of the guys to question anything 😒 sometimes those flames fight back with the bowls brooo. he has a playlist for smoking after that first time- it kind of becomes a tradition for you guys to try and smoke every friday/weekend (:

his tolerance is worst than isaacs bro. he’s either passed out after the second bowl or laughing at anything that moves. if you guys end up laughing too loud or just making too much noise in general he gets hyper aware about if the boys can hear all the ruckus >:( does not want your smoke sesh to be interrupted. very easily paranoid when high for sure.

he doesn’t love carts- but i mean your his weakness homeboy how can he say no to you every time you ask? “strawberry banana cart?…. fine. one hit, but just to see if it really tastes like strawberry’s and bananas.” it didn’t taste like strawberries and bananas- but he was stoned for the next thirty minutes after that (:

hates the smell of weed. he always has the windows open, a candle burning, incense burning, anything to diffuse the smell of marijuana. he’ll specifically ask you to blow the smoke towards the window- but sometimes you blow it towards the pillows on his bed… or some plushies even just to get a rise out of him. “fuck babe… now my bedrooms gonna smell like kush for a week.” + “it’s just a little smoke!” he would obviously say it sarcastically, he dgaf where you blow your smoke he just wants to be a pain in the ass for funzies.

another big believer in tolerance breaks- but he dosent even know what the fuck a t-break is. he would just tell you he’s taking a break from weed in general. homeboy is very inexperienced in the smoking department and stayed away from it until he was in his early twenties.

yumi ➜ blake definitely has the highest tolerance out of all of them, but he isn’t a raging stoner. probably prefers weed over alcohol especially at parties- has an occasional joint on the weekends or when he has the time but he’s not stoned 247.

yumi is a classic man, he likes classic things. he prefers bud almost over everything else. he won’t turn down an edible but he despises carts because of the aftertaste they have. “babe that shit taste like potting soil… i’ll just take the extra twenty minutes to roll up.” + “it does not taste like potting soil! it’s supposed to be peanut butter and jelly flavored…” after a bowl or two though… homeboy is loving up on the cart!!!! “damn okay… maybe this shit does taste like pb&j…” better be willing to stop at a smoke shop the next day or have your dealer on speed dial because blake is draining that pen 😩

omg he out of all tgc boys fucking loves little smoke sesh dates. like finding a nice little spot off a hiking trail or just in the woods and rolling up together ): he would make sure to have a playlist and everything just like nick this man is soft for you bro. “alright babe are we feelin’ apricot gelato or blue dream today?” very organized with his weed. he knows his favorite strains and doesn’t venture out farther than the ones he knows he likes.

blake is a whole different personality when high, like he’s still blake but… better? idk how to describe it gahhhhh!!! like he’s more laid back, cusses more frequently, very sarcastic, voice a bit deeper/raspier from smoking. “brotha look over there… that bird is straight chillin’ on that tree branch.” + “brotha?…” doesn’t even realize he’s doing it- you would bring it up afterwards and he always denies it. “babe i can promise you i’ve never talked like that when high, maybe you just think i do because your always stoned when i’m high.” if you ever showed him a video of how he talks when stoned he would become hyper aware of how he acts whenever he’s high 💀

homeboy rolls the best joints- how can he not? somehow they always turn out perfectly cylindrical and no leaf actually ever falls out of the joint. he’s got the magic joint rolling hands, what can he say.

omg don’t even get me started on fucking munchies. i am a chronic victim of binge eating while stoned and i have a gut feeling yumi is too. homeboy can be expected to be covered in cheetos dust if he plans on smoking. it brings out the best and worst in him, the worst being eating copious amounts of food in such a short period of time. “your such a fatty babe,” + “am not! you literally scarfed down three zebra cakes an hour ago…”

[ilavsanrio]

Yoongi oneshot

Fan au, fluff, smut, drugs,

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stuck together. ⋆---––——––---⋆ ⋆ ---––——––------––——––--- ⋆ ⋆ ---––——––--- ⋆

"Their age?", A staff member asks. "18+... but they're not from Korea". They're going through random weverse accounts with membership to find someone for their new show. A show where all of the bts members will spend 100 days with a fan. "It'll just have to do.. Every single Yoongi fan this far has been underage. Let's just get this over with". You receive an email from weverse. You open it without thinking, guessing it's some type of ad about new merch or a new episode or whatever. Your eyes widen as you read the email. Quickly you respond to it, telling them you're available and give them all your information for them to do a background check. The day has come. You're in front of the house that you will be staying at with Yoongi. A shivery breath escapes your lips as you push the door open. A camera starts following you as you take off your shoes and drag your suitcase inside. A familiar face approaches you with a smile. He hold his hand out to you and you take it. The touch gently and warm. "U-uhm.. I'm Y/n". He smiles at you and shakes your hand, "Nice to meet you, Y/n. You can just call me Yoongi". His touch lingers for a second before letting go of your hand. Together you start exploring the house. The camera crew following you. The small microphone tickles against your collarbone. Around dinner time you two play a simple game of rock, paper, scissors, the loser having to make dinner. You win and sit on the couch for a while, waiting for him to finish dinner. He comes places a bowl of tteokkboki on the table in front of you. "Smells nice", you say as you get off the couch and onto the floor. Crossing your legs as you sit down. You both start to eat and chat, laughing the night away. After dinner the cameras cut and you both go into your rooms. The nerves of having been around him all day had been building up inside of you. Your stomach and back hurt from it. You sit on your bed, fidgeting with a joint between your fingers. You place it between your lips and light it.

After a couple of hits you start to feel the stress fade away from your body. You feel like you're floating in water and your fingertips slightly tingle. Music plays through your headphones as you lay on your bed, your eyes closed. Suddenly you feel the weight on your bed shift. You look up with half closed eyelids. Yoongi is sitting beside you. You move your headphones off your head and look at him. "Are you smoking weed", he asks while looking at you. "Ya..", you respond lazily. He takes the joint from your fingers and lays down beside you, taking a drag. "Didn't know you smoked weed". He looks at you, "Sometimes". You pass the joint between each other, your lungs filling with smoke. The joint is almost finished. He looks at you, placing the joint between your lips with his fingers. You take a drag and he flicks the bud out of the window. You look at him, "You look really hot like that". Not thinking about what your saying, having lost control over your senses from the high. His hair is slightly messy, his body and face relaxed and he has a stupid smile on his face. "Thank you, so do you". You can't help but blush at his words. "You think so?". He leans closer, his breath hot on your face, "I know so". An urge comes over you and you press your lips against his. He kissing you back hungrily. His hands travel to your waist, rubbing up and down seductively. Your bodies pressing together. His tongue moves inside, exploring your mouth. He pulls you on top, making you straddle his lap. You hips start to grind automatically. He lets out a groan and flips you around, hoover over your body. You hands start to pull at his shirt. He takes it off and removes your clothes as well. You unzip his pants and make him take everything off. His face travels to your neck, biting and sucking at it. He moves your hips up with one of his hands, supporting his body weight with the other. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in. His movements are loving, but rough. A strange yet good combination. He lets out sweet moans and whimpers as he pound inside of you, nuzzling his face in your neck. "F-fuck.. You're so.. beautiful..", he says breathily, between moans. His hands travel over your body as his thrusts become shakier and harder. You hand grips his hair, softly pulling at it, making him moan out in pleasure. Not long later and you can feel him release inside of you, making your legs shake and finish yourself. His body drops down on yours, holding you tightly. You fall asleep cuddling him as he plants kisses over your face.

[hypnoticslave-trance]

Current fantasy:

You’ve been stalking me for months. You’re good at it too, I don’t even notice you touching yourself through my bedroom window as I’m changing for bed.

You take up my hobbies, get a job at my work, and slowly become friends with me. We see each other everywhere, and I just assume we’re very much alike.

You come over one day after work. My house is small but homely. You assess the area, trying to figure out where to plant the cameras.

The front door leads to the kitchen first, the bathroom immediately to the left. I was lucky enough to get a large bowl bathtub, and spent a lot of time inside of it. But you already knew that.

I take you to my living room, which is only a few feet from the kitchen. Small, but homely. We sit on my L shaped couch and relax to some shows. With my hair off to the side, I don’t notice your eyes staring directly at me instead of the tv. I don’t notice your plans to take me as your slave.

We end the evening with a hug as you leave the back door. I close the door and go for my evening smoke break. I grab my supplies, and slowly make my way to the couch.

After a large bowl, my entire world begins to wobble and slow down. I turn on my favorite cartoons, and begin to zone out into my own world for the night. What I failed to do before hand, was lock the door. I was always trusting of my neighborhood, so there were moments I’d forget to lock it during the day. It rarely happened, but there were times where I’d forget to lock during the night. You’d know this already, though, but never took advantage of it yet. You needed to see everything in the safety of daylight first, to get your surroundings.

I continue to stare at my cartoons, soon taking another hit before grabbing my blanket and wrapping it tightly around myself. I can barely see what’s around me anymore, only what’s right infront of me.

You immediately smell it outside my door. The toxic whiff of skunky green plants being burnt, it brings a smile to your face because not only am I so intoxicated I wouldn’t notice a thing, but as soon as you touched my door knob, it twisted right open. It was going to be an easy night for you.

You walk back into my home, the smell being a little stronger now. You close and lock the door behind you, not wanted anyone else disturbing your peace.

You look into the kitchen and open my fridge. I had a jug of water, a job of milk, some drinks, and some food. You smile again as you reach into your pocket. Inside is a little tub filled with a liquid. The tub reads *trance activator*.

You open my water jug and pour some inside, then the milk, then my other drinks. This was so easy, in my intoxicated state there was no way of knowing what you were doing.

You close the fridge and enter the living room. Inside you see the show I’m glued too and smile once more. You know exactly what to do once you’re done.

You begin placing a tiny camera onto my book shelf, under my desk, and in the corners of each room in the house. They’re so small, yet so high quality.

You start going through my belongings, starting at the important things. You look through my weed accessories, and noticed I have a mask. Seeing this makes you want to laugh, how could your luck get any better?

You come back into the living room and noticed I was fast asleep now. You grab my grinder and pack a new bowl into the mask. The excitement you feel is great as you slowly begin to burn the bowl.

Smoke immediately begins to fill my mask, suffocating me with the delicious drugs being burnt. My vision is already cloudy inside the mask, so I don’t see you infront of me burning away the weed.

I’m shocked at first, eyes wide open as the place is filled with smoke. I realize quickly it’s my mask, and get confused at how it got there. The confusion doesn’t last long though, as the drugs hit quickly like a punch to the gut.

My vision begins to blur through the smoke, and my body begins to relax. I no longer care how my mask got onto my face, I only care about how tingly my body feels, and how relaxed I am. It feels so painful breathing in all that smoke, but it felt so good too.

As my body begins to grow limp, you quickly turn to my TV and pull up and very pretty spiral. You sit me back up, and slowly take off my mask.

I nearly fall over, my entire body feeling like and fuzzy. You hold my shoulders to prevent me from falling over, as I’m too high to even notice the pressure on them.

My eyes roll back for a moment before the adjust to the tv. Because of my impaired state, my eyes immediately snap to the center, and grow tired and too lazy to move away from it. My entire body begins to relax again, but this time for a bit of a different reason.

As I begin to relax against the back of the couch, you get to work putting headphones on me, connected to a small MP3 device. You press play, and instantly began to play binary beats into my ears.

I hear a snap in the noise, and my body nearly goes numb from any feeling. My muscles feel nonexistent, and my bones liquid. In my state of mind, I didn’t care. It felt way too good to look away now.

I didn’t notice any words being said, but everytime I heard a snap, my body would grow even more relaxed. If that was even possible.

Once the audio is over, you take your mp3 device away, and place my cartoon back on the tv screen. Once the drugs leave my system, you’d have been long gone, and i would have been far too impaired to even remember what just happened.

[leomoon65]

Your first time with Dina

little info for you preference: afab reader, she/her perspective, wlw based but has a bisexual undertone just no men sexually.

summary:

you've liked dina for a few years now but never wanted to ruin your friendship but what happens when dina invites you over and a game of truth or dare turns sexual?

warning: virginity taking, p*rn categories mentioned, smut, , strap, teasing, edging, slight degradation, sexual tension, light language, mention and small affects of weed, 18+ minors dni, semi slow burned, idk im probably forgetting some this was written at 5am

a/n: i never wrote anything like this, let alone posted. this is proofread (update at 5am, it barely is) but im known for having spelling/grammar errors due to personal reasons so pls go easy on me. also, dina and the reader are in college to make everyone legal. i apologize for this being so long, i really wanted to add detail and make it the best i can. please enjoy (:

*a little background*

dina is your childhood best friend, she's a year older than you so you have always looked up to her and she protected you. you've had your ups and downs, complained and cried over various ex partners, came out to each other and have been through thick and thin. she is your person and you are hers.

*dina texts you*

"hey y/n, wanna come over, smoke a bowl and chill tn?"

you smile at your best friend's text responding "yes ofc idiot" as you make your way back from your last class of the day. you are glad you don't have to work another shift at the local retro video game store that mind you, dina always stops to bother you almost every shift. you can focus on the weekend and just have a night with your best friend.

you make your dorm, change into a white cropped shirt, jeans, your campus hoodie (go longhorns) and a pair of vans. "i'll be out for the night" you tell your roommate nancy. "oooo are you finally going to get laid?" nancy giggles to herself. "shut up, no it's dina, we are just going to smoke and i'll probably end up staying the night, text me if you need anything" you say with a smile and you're off. since dina is a sophomore she's in a different dormitory then the freshmen like yourself. making your way to the sophomore dorms you excitingly knock on dina's dorm room. the infamous "808", which happened to be your lucky number that dina was filled with joy when she was given her new dorm earlier this year.

dina: "y/n!" dina says eagerly as she pulls you into one of her famous dina hugs. "how was class?" "how are you?" "is anyone bothering you, i can stand up for you if you need me to?" "do you have enough money in your lunch account?" dina's proceeds to ask more questions before you giggle and reassure that everything is well, no one is bothering you, no you did not set your dorm on fire, and yes, you are good with money. dina reminds you she asks these questions out of love and it's her "best friend responsibility" you just stick your tongue out and make your way to her couch.

dina is wearing the university t shirt but cropped, some gym shorts and socks since she's at home, you notice her stummy poking out of her shirt and can't help but blush and think about what her shirt would look like off and on the floor "hey you!" she says snapping you out of your mini wet--- daydreaming session. "huh?" you say nervously. "can you turn some music on, grab the bong, and our favorite blankets?" "i'm making us some chicken with rice for dinner and i need to watch the oven so the rice rises properly." (she's quite the perfectionist) "sure thing"

you get up, go into dina's room, grabbing her childhood blanket off her bed next to her childhood bear "Mr. Dinaworth" she named when she was 4. dina's blanket consists of ladybugs on sunflowers, it was the blanket that she slept/sleeps with/ has around whenever she is at home. you grab another big blanket you too use when you come over, just a grey and white blanket that is pretty thick and big enough to warm the both of you. you come back put the blankets down, grab the bong from the bathroom since dina just cleaned it out before you came and had not had the time to grab it earlier. you finish by lightly plopping yourself on her couch. "alexa, play vibe music" "playing trust issues by drake on amazon music" the music is low and you smell the amazing food dina is making, you make your way over to her. "can i help?" dina smiles, "yes, you can help by sitting pretty on the couch it's done, it just needs plating". your face gets red from the "sitting pretty" phrase making your way back to the couch. dina is back five minutes later. "for you" she says handing you her famous chicken, white rice with soy sauce and broccoli on a plate. "you do too much for me deen" you say as you start eating. dina responds "what, i have to make sure the pretty girls in my life are fed". there it is.. those damn butterflies in your stomach... "no no you think to yourself , dina is a natural flirt she doesn't mean it like that let along towards you". you sit your food and catch up with dina as every other hangout goes.

about an hour later, dinner is all cleaned up, the music is going and you and dina are buzzed off of the hits you've taken but this is nothing new for you two. "hey let's play truth or dare" dina says. "what are we? thirteen?" you giggle as you start to feel the affects of the weed. dina laughs and puts her hand on your thigh "casually" you feel yourself start to get wet and tingly, "no it's the weed, it's stuff she got that's why i feel like this" you think. "no we are not thirteen but i wanna have some fun, not just smoke our brains out to frank ocean, drake and kehlani all night" she giggles again, ahh you could hear that giggle all day and never get sick of it, it's the same giggle she had when yall were kids, never changed but you love it regardless. "fine, this better be fun" you say noticing dina hasn't moved her hand form your thigh. "sweet" she smiles with intentions that you don't notice.

"truth" you say as you two start the round. "pussy" dina says finally removing her hand from your thigh, you're a water fountain at six flags by now but you never admit that to your best friend, that would be weird. "what is your favorite season" she asks with seriousness. "are you fucking with me?" you laugh, ask me something better than that. "oh? you want a challenge huh? you think you can handle it? she smirks at you. "come on deen, bring on" you think she'll ask you something pg-13 of what boy/girl do you like on camp--- " "what porn do you watch?" woah holy shit, you weren't expecting that. "don't challenge me pretty one without expecting some heat back". there you go, looking red as bob the tomato himself. "umm umm, usually lesbian but i get some straight just for... strap affect" *as you giggle. dina raises her eyebrow... "your virgin ass knows what a strap is?" you laugh again, "yes dina i wasn't born yesterday". dina's mind really races, she has a strap in her room that she wanted to use... "no no dina, play it cool, you can't scare her off now"

"dina truth or dare" you ask snapping her from her thoughts. "dare" she says with confidence. "hmm i dare you to do a flip" you say nervously not wanting to push any boundaries. "really? that's sooo easy, you know i was in gymnastic as a kid" she gets up behind the couch with enough room and flips backwards with ease. "oof im not as young as i used to be" she giggles. "okay okay my turn lets kick it up a notch" she sits and gets oddly close to you, "who, on campus is the prettiest girl to handsomest guy on campus?" you sit and think, "well i don't really talk to many guys but adam is kinda cute and helps me with my math homework but i would never sleep with him, girls... mmm... *the weed and confidence booster kicks in a little*

"i know a girl, she's jewish, looks a lot like you" *you giggle highly. "Talia?" she says mentioning her older sister who is eight years older than you and seven to dina. "no no silly, i'm talking about y---" reality hits "shit shit, i gave myself away, fuck this new weed, fuck why did it say that, she's gonna hate me, she's my best friend". you are interrupted again by dina saying "do you like me y/n". fuck, dina can be intimidating to others, she scared off your ex girlfriend once, friends who have wronged you and even your own mother when need be, but this intimidating stare was filled with passion and soft eyes but confusion over all. "y-- yes, i do, fuck i didn't wanna ruin anything because we have been friends for years and i didn't wanna fuck anything up... shit i should g---"

a/n: woah, sorry this super long, i had to split it into two parts, it'll be up on my page as well. i hope you all enjoyed reading my first smut fic. i'm sorry if things aren't your tea, i wrote it from personal reads to personal ideas. if you want anything else that i'd be comfortable reading let me know. you don't see too many dina stories but i hope this once you enjoyed.

- c

[knotabottom]

Yknow, maybe allowing myself to *really* sub out wouldn't be a bad idea.

(This totally isn't just a really detailed fantasy. Yeah I'm sure)

I should have my dom lay me down and pull out a freshly packed bowl. "You can handle three big hits at once, right sweet thing?" I nod slowly before going to take the bowl out of their hand. My arms are pushed aside while they lean towards me, not letting me grab the bowl and instead putting it up to my lips, lighting it themselves. "Nod when you've got enough baby." The flick of the lighter shines on their focused face. After I notice the smoke starting to burn my lungs, I nod, and they take the bowl away from my mouth. I take about 2 more hits before the weed starts affecting my vision and thought processes. My partner reaches over to a bottle of water and tilts my head up so I can get rid of the smoke on my tongue.

My eyes are all blurry, and I can feel my body melting into the bed. Every kiss on my neck feels like it lasts forever, and my partner pets my stomach and thighs. Every touch is amplified and slow as they leave sticky kisses and bites all over my neck, starting to take off my shirt to get to my chest. Marking and clawing all over my torso. Usually, by this time, I can feel myself getting really wet with all their attention. Grinding my hips up into nothing. They make fun of me, asking if I'm just mindlessly moving my hips or if I need to ask for something. My mind can't handle full sentences, and all I can do is groan and whine for them. "Is that how we ask for attention baby? Or are you too high to ask properly?" All I can do is whine some more. "It's obvious you wanna be touched sweet thing, but since you can't ask properly, we're gonna do it my way."

They reach down towards my legs and help me take off the boxers. I wince at the cold air. Their hands trace all over my thighs and just narrowly avoiding my cunt, tracing all around the area with their fingers. I'm so sensitive all I can do is move my hips towards their hands and whine at their touch. Suddenly, my whines earn me a firm smack on my cunt. I jolt and moan at the stinging pain. "What are you moaning at, my pretty thing?" Another smack. "Huh? What is it?"

I can hardly say anything. My minds all melted and my cunt is throbbing. I whine some more. "You want me to touch you? I'm doing it." Another couple smacks to my already swollen clit. They fake me out a couple times, giggling at me when I flinch. "Can you handle another hit, my darling?" They ask. I nod, and they grab the bowl for another hit of weed that they, of course, have to light themselves. It hits me hard, I can barely keep my eyes open, and my mind is swimming. As I exhale the smoke, I'm smacked a few more times, each drawing a good gasp and moan from my lips. They reach down to my cunt and feel how wet I've become, making slick noises with their fingers. "All that smacking, and you're dripping down my hand? Am I dumbing you down that much where any touch makes you a fucking mess, sweet thing?"

They lean down and start eating me out, their tongue gliding between my folds and earning whimpers and moans from me. Making out with my cunt hungrily. Suddenly, they stop, making my hips jerk up towards their face, whining and squirming. I can only squeak out a small please. They start smacking my cunt again, not giving me much of a break between each smack. "All mine, you know that right? My dumb toy to hit as many times as I want." A couple smacks later I'm moaning and panting as I feel the hot sting on my clit.

I'm awake enough to notice they're pulling out their strap and putting it on, being slow to let me recover. After he finishes putting it on, he kisses all over my chest and stomach, going back to simple praise and gentle touches, midway check-in to see if I'm okay. After the sting subsides, I feel cool lube being poured onto me and being worked into me as I'm being gently fingered by my dom. He bends over me, slowly sliding his strap in an inch at a time. Gasping at the nice filling feeling as he slides all the way in. He puts his arms around me, kissing and licking my neck.

I start grinding my hips into his, and he takes that as the signal to start trusting into me, slow at first but getting into a quick pace, going in deeply and barely pulling out before his hips are fucking me into the bed. He goes harder, purposely holding himself as hard as he can against my cervix, trying to bruise it. Moaning and whimpering is all I can do, even if I'm loud. He slides his fingers into my mouth to muffle the noise, holding my hips with the other, admiring the way my stomach bounces with each thrust. "My pretty girl. Is that good? All those noises, too high and fucked out to be quiet? Dumb thing." I nod and try and keep to his rhythm. He pulls out, examining my stretched cunt. "Good job baby!" He says, slowly tracing around my curves with his hands. "Such a pretty toy moaning for me."

Giving me only a minute to catch myself, they grab their vibrator from their shelf. Rubbing my clit as they sync it to their phone. "Here, my sweet thing, hold this to yourself." I grab the vibrator as my clumsy hands hold it to my aching clit. He messes around with the settings until its just enough to keep me soaked but not enough to make me cum. The weed makes it feels like hours as he plays around with the settings.

My hips start to twitch as he puts the vibration harder. "I can't." I squeak. "I know." He puts a hand over the vibrator to keep it there. All I can do is moan and plead, though mumbles for him to turn it down. Not like he would. The vibration gets hard to ignore, and I'm too high to focus on something else. They smirk as they know damn well they're pushing me over the edge, shoving their fingers into my mouth to keep me quiet. "Greedy thing. Couldn't hold it? I told you to hold it." I'm panting and squirming as the feeling is overwhelming, making a huge mess. I can only beg and mumble my apologies. He takes the vibrator away and turns it off. They bend over to look at my twitching cunt, smiling at it, letting me take only a small break.

He leans back up towards me, placing the vibrator back on my clit, automatically putting it up to max. Immediately squirming and whining. It's too much. I start to beg to take it off. "You want it off for a minute? Okay." As soon as it lifts off I'm met with a hard smack on my cunt. I can't do much besides flinch and moan. "So greedy..." Another five smacks in a row. It starts to sting pretty well. It only stops for him to put the vibrator back on at max. I'm begging for it to let up a little bit as he just keeps telling me why I deserve this punishment. Going back and forth until he's satisfied with how exhausted I am.

"Alright, alright, you've had enough, my love. Cmere." He puts everything away and pulls me onto his chest. "My sweet girl, taking all that for me." Petting my hair and letting me calm down into his skin. Theres lots of close hugs and praise until I settle all the way down. Making me drink some water and get talking again.

Maybe a nap or get something to eat, just regular sappy Aftercare <3<3<3

[batty4steddie]

Can I Keep It?

@spicycinnabun and I's contribution to steddiebang 2023! ❤️️ | Chapters: 4/12 | Rating: M | Read, kudos or comment on ao3 | We have a playlist. ❤️️ | Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Chapter 4: Rough Day, Sweetheart?

Steve’s nerves were shot from everything that had gone down. It was half past ten by the time he got home. He needed some peace, quiet and weed. Dustin had run his mouth all damn day. He loved the kid, but damn, he never knew when to shut up. Steve felt like a forty-year-old single mother who just needed a cigarette once the kids went to bed. 

While his mom was probably disappointed that he hadn’t been home for dinner, he knew she’d still have a plate waiting for him in the fridge. 

From the outside, Steve was surprised that it was completely dark inside. He entered the same way he’d exited the house, through his bedroom’s sliding glass doors. He thought that was probably best since it looked like his dad had made it home from work. He thought he’d gone on a business trip, but now his and his mom’s cars were in the driveway. 

The first thing he did was turn on a light. The soft, dim glow from his bowling pin lamp illuminated a completely passed-out metalhead who was looking particularly soft in his bed, dressed in Steve’s favorite pajamas, and to top it off, his hair looked tamed and bouncy—a telltale sign his hair products had been used. Eddie looked too damn peaceful to disturb, so Steve didn’t. 

He headed over to his closet after he shrugged off his jacket. He put it away, having to push his letterman jacket further back to make room. He kicked off his Nike’s and tried not to groan at how stiff his body felt from the fright Sinclair had given him.  He had to get out of his jeans. God, he was a mom.  

Steve stripped right down to his boxers, losing his collared polo, too. He went to take a piss before coming back out. He went to his dresser next and immediately took a pair of socks out from the back of the top drawer. He kept a small baggie of rolled blunts in this specific pair of socks. He took one out before balling the socks back up. He put the joint between his lips while he closed that drawer and opened another. He dug around until he found his next favorite pair of pajama pants and pulled them on. 

Steve still felt warm from getting heated earlier, so he left his shirt off. He quickly grabbed a lighter he had hidden in his pencil holder on his desk. He lit the blunt and walked back over to the sliding glass doors, and opened them a crack, knowing he had to let the smell out if he was going to enjoy this blunt by himself.

* Eddie’s nose lifted in the air and twitched a few times before his eyes opened. He thought maybe he was still dreaming because the first thing he saw was a silhouette of a half-naked man in the window and the pungent musk of that elusive Miss Mary Jane. Eddie squinted and sat up, wiping his eyes a few times to clear them. 

The half-naked man was Steve, of course, and Eddie had fallen asleep in his bed. Whoops.     The alarm clock told Eddie it was ten-forty. It had been several hours. Steve’s back was facing him, so Eddie took a moment to observe him quietly. 

It was a strange situation to be in. Not like it was the first time he’d stayed over at a guy’s house, but Steve wasn’t his friend. Eddie was an invader. His hands felt naked, too, without his rings. He shouldn’t have taken them off to shower. 

That was the smoldering cherry of a lit joint between Steve’s fingers, though, and that was enough to dislodge any weird shyness Eddie felt.     Eddie made a show of stretching and groaning to make it clear he was awake. He then rolled off the bed, padding over to the sliding glass doors Harrington was currently looking out of. 

Steve was taking his first wonderful puff when he heard Eddie stirring behind him. What were the odds that weed was what woke him up? Steve smiled around the joint. 

Waking Eddie with his joint was one way of getting him out of his bed. Steve really wasn’t trying to do that, though. He would’ve taken the couch since Eddie was his guest, after all. He had manners and wouldn’t disturb a sleeping man. 

Even though the door was only open a crack, the cold air hit Eddie’s sleep-warm body and made him fold his arms around himself to contain his heat. He didn’t know how Steve was shirtless right now. He took in Steve’s posture, his head hanging slightly in exhaustion.     “Rough day, sweetheart?” Eddie asked with a coy smile and the over-the-top faux sweetness of a nineteen-fifties housewife, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. 

Of course, Eddie was being cute. Steve’s mind was already easing as he took another drag. When he turned, he caught Eddie playing with his hair. He couldn’t stop a second smile as he blew out the smoke and took Eddie in. 

His hair looked nice, and he didn’t smell as funky as he had when Steve left—he smelled like warm spice mixed with a little sleep musk and clean from soap and a bit like him from his clothes. Yeah, it was nice. 

Steve wanted to answer and say, “Yeah, it was rough,” since it seemed so genuine of a question, but didn’t. 

No guy had ever called him sweetheart before. It made him shiver. Although, it could have just been the freezing early March air he was letting billow into the warm room.

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly. He had no idea Harrington was such a hairy beast beneath those polos. Jesus Christ. It was enough to discombobulate his thoughts, but he quickly recovered, dropping the act (and his hair) as the severity of the situation hit him.  “It’s pretty late. What happened? Everyone alright? Any news?”  Steve lifted the joint and offered it to Eddie so he could answer his questions. “There was another death nearly identical to Chrissy’s: Fred, Nancy’s friend from the school paper. They went to the trailer park to investigate what happened. They split up to ask questions, but Nancy couldn’t find him. They found him dead on the road. That’s what all those cops were rushing to when we saw them earlier. Don’t know if you knew him, but the police still suspect you somehow, but still haven’t released your name. Some people in Hawkins might’ve concluded that it was you without them confirming it.” 

Eddie’s stomach dropped. Vecna had claimed someone else. He didn’t know any Freds off the top of his head, so he shook his head minutely, accepting the joint with fingers that trembled with a little more than just the cold. 

“Jason, Chrissy’s boyfriend, he was the one insisting it was you. You were the last person who saw her,” Steve continued. “He’s after Dustin too now, because he thinks Dustin knows where you are.”  

Steve knew it was a risk hiding Eddie, but Jason wouldn’t think Eddie was here. Jason didn’t know he and Dustin were friends as far as he could tell. 

Eddie paled even further. He more than knew Jason, not that he was about to mention that to Steve. He was exceptionally grateful for the toke, pulling it in as deeply as his lungs could handle before exhaling. “Fuck,” he muttered, passing the joint back to Steve. “Fuck, man.”     The THC did its magic, dulling some thoughts that tried to start rapid firing in his head, turning them into more of a leisurely ping-pong game instead. Hopefully, Carver wasn’t lame enough to go banging down Mrs. Henderson’s door, and Dustin would be safe tonight. 

Steve could see that Eddie was cold, and he felt another shiver coming on when Eddie’s hand grazed his as he was giving the joint back. Steve flicked the bud outside and pulled the door shut as soon as it was finished. 

He walked over to his bed and sat down. It was still warm and made. Eddie hadn’t even gotten under the covers. Steve shifted and leaned back against the headboard. He put his legs out in front of him since he started feeling more relaxed. “Thanks for keeping my bed warm,” he told Eddie, patting the spot beside him. He wasn’t ready for bed just yet. 

Eddie let out a soft huff, debating whether he should explain. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep in Harrington’s bed; it had just happened. Steve didn’t seem too bothered about it, so he relaxed.  “Couldn’t resist testing out the royal bedsheets,” Eddie replied. 

He climbed onto the empty side of the bed, sitting in the center facing Steve, his legs pulled up like a pretzel and his arms wrapped around them. 

Steve waited for Eddie to get comfortable before he went deeper into what was going on. “We think Vecna’s next victim is Max. She had a vision tonight. Same one Chrissy and Fred had a day before they died… Heavy shit, man.” 

Eddie listened carefully, focusing better on Steve’s words and not the other stimuli around him, thanks to MJ’s help. “Shit, poor Max,” he said, tone sympathetic. He rubbed his mouth. Vecna had his sights set on her now. They had to stop him before he got to her, too.

They both stewed in that silently for a few minutes.

Steve wasn’t high enough to spiral. He was just high enough to have the munchies. He changed the subject. “Hey, you hungry? Bet my mom left dinner in the fridge, and I could sneak one of my dad’s beers for us to split. I could use some beer. Bet you could, too.” He smiled a dopey smile as he threw his legs over the side of the bed.

“Starving, and always,” Eddie said. “Can I come with you?”  

Steve’s parents had probably gone to bed already, right? The nap had envigored him, and he wouldn’t mind seeing more of the Harrington house. 

Steve hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so he was starving too. He hesitated, but just for a second. He finished climbing off the bed and gave Eddie a nod. “Course you can come.” 

Steve waited until Eddie un-pretzeled himself, then led the way up the stairs. 

There wasn’t a need to worry about his parents. It was silent. The TV wasn’t on in the living room, so they most likely had gone to bed, given the time of night. It was eleven now, and their room wasn’t even on the same floor as the kitchen. It was right off the basement stairs, so it was a quick trip for Steve and Eddie. Not that he couldn’t just lie about who Eddie was if his parents found them raiding the kitchen, but he knew his parents well enough to know they wouldn’t be checking on him. 

When they reached the first floor, they were met with a modern eighties kitchen. It had lots of tiles and wooden cabinets, with hidden appliances that were just covered with wood paneling. The space was large and open, perfect for entertaining, as more windows and another set of sliding glass doors led outside to the currently winterized pool.

Eddie looked around curiously at all the appliances. There was a blender on the counter with the biggest bowl of fruit beside it that Eddie had ever seen. He wondered if Steve or Steve’s parents made smoothies with that. Was Steve a protein shake kind of guy? Ick. 

Steve went over to the fridge and opened it. There it was: his mom’s pot roast, waiting for him with a note that read Stevie . He smiled. She was always so thoughtful. 

Steve started pulling out the roast as well as the sides. His mom always made two sides: a potato and a vegetable. The pot roast had carrots and potatoes, but she had also made mashed potatoes and corn.  It looked so fucking good, even cold. 

Eddie’s attention caught on a picture affixed to the fridge door with a lemon-shaped magnet. The photograph was of a much younger Steve in a swimsuit and goggles and an older man and woman whom Eddie figured were Steve’s parents. Steve was between them, a big smile on his face. He was holding up a silver medal to the camera. Steve’s dad was borderline unsmiling, looking out of place in a stiff business suit, but Steve’s mom was grinning, her arm around Steve’s shoulders. 

“I’m excited,” Steve told Eddie as he grabbed a couple of plates and started dishing out the food onto them. Luckily, they didn’t have to eat it cold since he had a microwave. He put them in it, and while they were warming, Steve cleaned up the dishes and returned to the fridge for the beer. 

Sure enough, his mom had gone to the store earlier, and they were fully stocked again. His dad wouldn’t miss two beers, now would he? Steve smirked and snatched them right out. He passed them to Eddie so he could get their food out before the timer went off. God, it looked so good. “Bet you haven’t had a meal this good in your life. My mom’s an amazing cook.”

Eddie tore his eyes away from the photograph when two beers appeared in his hands. “You’re probably right,” he said, eyeing the loaded plates. “Although, I did have dinner at Dustin’s house once, and Mrs. Henderson made us a pretty mean Hamburger Helper Stroganoff.” The squiggly noodles had reminded Eddie of Cthulhu’s tentacles, which had made eating the grey sludge a little more fun. “Your mom might have some competition there.”

Steve had to smile when Eddie brought up Dustin’s mom. He loved her, too, and she was a pretty good cook. He could agree with the mean Hamburger Helper. Steve also liked that, but his mom did a lot more cooking from scratch than Dustin’s mom did, which couldn’t be beat. Eddie would find that out with his first bite. Steve grabbed a couple of forks and led the way back to his room. 

He couldn’t help but be grateful for his mom whenever she cooked for him and his dad and still did it, even if neither of them were home on time. She’d been a good mother to him and a good wife. It wasn’t fair that her husband was unloyal, but Steve was about to eat and wash away those harboring feelings.

Eddie followed Steve’s lead and settled on the couch with his plate on his lap. Their fingers brushed again as Steve passed him one of the forks. Steve’s fingertips were overly warm from handling the hot plates. Eddie nearly dropped the fork between the couch cushions but managed to save it before it fell. 

He cracked open the beer first. He hadn’t had water in a while, but beer was hydration, right? “I’ve never had pot roast before,” Eddie said after he set his beer down on the coffee table. 

The meat was so tender it didn’t even need a knife. The mashed potatoes were buttery and glorious. Even the vegetables tasted good. Eddie inhaled half his plate before he felt the ghost of Uncle Wayne’s hand smacking him upside the head for eating like an animal and forced himself to slow down. Chew your damn food, boy. 

“Never had it,” Steve commented softly and shook his head about Eddie never having pot roast. How? He thought that was sad. It was one of his favorite foods. He couldn’t imagine never having had it before.  

He took a long swallow of his beer before he started eating. Steve didn’t think Eddie was eating too fast. He chalked it up to the good food and Eddie just being hungry from going all day without any. 

Steve didn’t know much about Eddie’s home life. He knew he was unpopular and poor… given he lived at the trailer park with his uncle. Eddie was also older than him by a year, or maybe they were the same age. Steve thought he was supposed to graduate a year before he did, though. 

Regardless, Eddie was an adult on his own, pretty much. He cared enough to try and finish high school despite his parents not being around.  

 “I wonder if the police questioned my uncle yet,” Eddie said suddenly, putting his fork down. 

Jesus, his uncle probably thought he was a murderer. He probably hated Eddie now. Was Eddie ever going to see his uncle again? And even if he did, would Wayne want anything to do with him? 

Steve sat his fork down, too, and tucked some of his hair behind his ears. That triggered his memory of where they’d gone today—they’d swapped information when they’d sat down together at the picnic table. “They questioned him, alright. Nancy mentioned that she had questioned him, too. He didn’t want to talk to her at first since the police weren’t having that you didn’t do that to Chrissy. She said Wayne defended you. He said that he knew you and you’d never do a thing like that.” 

Eddie’s insides twinged in guilt, and his nose burned a little. His uncle had defended him to the police—of course, he had. Wayne was the only person who had ever thought Eddie was worth a damn for anything. And even if he did think Eddie had done it, he probably still would have defended him. Munsons weren’t snitches. 

“I wouldn’t,” Eddie confirmed, somehow getting his emotions back in check before he did something stupid like cry (again). 

If he got out of this mess somehow, he would have to defend himself with his own words, but knowing his uncle was still in his corner was comforting. Weirdly enough, it seemed like King Steve was, too. 

“No way anything human could’ve done that to one, let alone two people.”  

Steve needed more beer. He set his plate on the coffee table, grabbed his beer, and started downing it. Today was way more stressful than he’d care to admit. Despite embarrassing himself in front of everyone and Dustin being Dustin, the alcohol couldn’t hit him fast enough. He wiped his mouth after finishing the bottle. 

He noticed that Eddie had finished his food, and his beer was half-empty. Steve put his hand on Eddie’s knee. “You can have what’s left of my food if you’re still hungry. You want another beer?” He patted Eddie’s knee as he stood up and picked up the empty plate to take it upstairs. 

Eddie’s knee flew up like a bird startling and taking flight, but Steve had already let go. He set his foot back down quickly and slumped back against the couch. Why was his heart racing? More importantly, why did Harrington keep touching him? 

Eddie shot Steve a nervous smile, jaw ticking as he tried to appear normal. Or at least normal-ish. Another beer wasn’t going to be enough for either of them. “Uh, got anything stronger?”

Mr. Harrington had to have a liquor cabinet they could raid. 

Steve’s eyebrows rose at Eddie’s suggestion. It was as if he had read Steve’s mind. He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’ll be right back,” he promised. 

Eddie’s nervous smile dropped as soon as Steve left the room. Now, it was just him and the remains of the pot roast Steve had left on his plate and offered to Eddie. Eddie’s nose wrinkled at the thought of eating somebody else’s leftovers. Still, Mrs. Harrington’s cooking was too tasty to resist, and his stomach wasn’t full. He quickly finished Steve’s plate and set it back on the coffee table, trying not to think that that fork had been in Steve’s mouth, and then it had gone into his mouth, so technically, they had swapped spit. 

*

It had been a while since Steve had raided his parents’ liquor cabinet. They had a wet bar upstairs for entertaining, but the cabinet was where the harder liquor was. 

Steve rinsed and dried the dishes in the kitchen, tucking them back into their places. He paused and listened for any noise from upstairs before going to the cabinet. He crouched down on his knees in front of it and held his breath as he started to open it. The wood creaked incredibly loud. He paused again, but still not even a stir from upstairs.  

He let out a breath when the doors were finally open. There was a good mix of bourbons, gins and whiskeys. American, Irish and Japanese. Steve grabbed one from the back. Surely, this bottle of Jameson wouldn’t be missed by his father. Steve groaned internally when the bottle clinked another as he pulled it out. He quickly shut the doors and stood up, then grabbed two whiskey tumblers from the bar and practically ran back to his room. 

Unsure of where his nervousness had suddenly come from, Steve turned it into a confident grin directed at Eddie. He proudly showed him the green bottle and set the glasses on the coffee table while he used his mouth to help him open the bottle. 

Eddie sighed thankfully when he saw the whiskey. MJ was wearing off. “You’re officially my favorite person right now, Harrington. Top of the list. Admittedly, a short list to begin with, but at the top, there you are.” 

Steve could feel his cheeks warming. Even if it was just because he’d gotten them booze, he liked being liked. He wasn’t expecting praise from Eddie. Granted, he was harboring him, had fed him, shared his weed with him, and now they were going to drink together. As jealous as he felt when Dustin acted like Eddie had hung the fucking moon, he had really come around. Something about Eddie just made Steve want to take care of him. 

Steve playfully shot the cap from his mouth in Eddie’s direction before pouring a good amount into each of their glasses.

Eddie laughed as the bottle cap hit him on the nose, batting it away. He leaned forward to grab one of the glasses. The lights flickered as he was about to take a sip, making him pause with the rim against his lips. They blinked again, a low buzzing in the air, then held their brightness.  “That happen a lot?” 

Please say yes, Eddie thought. He tipped the glass and swallowed a mouthful of whiskey, gulping against the burn. 

 “Nope,” Steve replied, throwing back the entire contents of his glass.  

The burn distracted him through the lights flickering, and luckily, they didn’t continue. Steve sat back on the couch, bringing his glass and the bottle. He quickly refilled his cup and topped off Eddie’s before setting the bottle down. He just sipped this time. It stung his nose worse, and he felt his cheeks starting to get rosy again.  

“Nothing good ever happens when the lights start to...” Steve gestured towards the lights, and they flickered in a heartbeating motion. Steve blinked a couple of times and looked at Eddie to ground himself. 

It was going to be okay. They were safe. Everyone was safe. For now, Steve could feel his mind, probably from the booze, starting to help him let go of the fear that had been raging since the previous night.  

“Ugh,” replied Eddie. His jaw clenched briefly with nerves, but the whiskey would calm him down in a few minutes. He just hoped Vecna wasn’t about to go for him or Steve right now. 

Eddie distracted himself by moving to sit sideways on the couch, one leg folding underneath him so he could look at Steve instead of whatever ghostly shit was happening with the light bulbs. The movement made him aware of how closely they were sitting next to each other. His knee was only an inch away from touching Steve’s leg. Steve was already looking at him, his face flushed. 

Looking at Eddie helped Steve, too. He was smiling. Was he getting drunk? Steve laughed, though he didn’t know what was funny other than he and Eddie Munson were hanging out and getting drunk. The turn of events couldn’t have been wilder. 

Eddie didn’t think he’d be in this circumstance ever in his life, either. He understood why Steve was laughing. 

“I never thought we’d hang out as badly as Dustin wanted me to play D&D with you guys,” Steve said. “What’s that even like? Is it actually fun?” 

Steve couldn’t comprehend D&D the few times he’d been around when Dustin, Mike and Lucas had played. He chalked it up to something incredibly nerdy. He also knew he probably wasn’t smart enough to follow. On top of being competitive as hell, it just wasn’t for him, was it? 

“Is it actually fun?” Eddie’s face quickly became animated. “Man, I wouldn’t have been playing it since I was thirteen if it wasn’t, so obviously, I think it is. Play isn’t even the right word. It’s not just a game, okay? It’s an adventure. And never the same adventure, either. Each campaign has a new story that unfolds differently.” 

Eddie narrowed his eyes slightly, going on the defensive automatically and daring Steve to make fun of him. He was aware of Dustin’s eagerness to try and get Steve to join their party, though he’d been less than enthused at the idea of a former jock coming in and crapping all over their game. Actually, he had openly expressed his disdain—several times. 

Eddie’s voice drew Steve right in. Steve tried to focus. While he always acted uninterested, he’d caught glimpses of the joy the game had brought his younger friends, and he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t piqued his interest a time or two. Sure, he didn’t understand it—there were many things Steve had trouble comprehending—but it was part of why he was asking.  

Steve could draw parallels between how he felt about sports and how Eddie felt about D&D. It wasn’t just a game. He’d said that, too when people had told him that losing the state championship wasn’t that big of a deal. It was just a game. Bullshit. 

Eddie poked Steve in the shoulder. “Have you ever wanted to be someone else before? Be some where else? Somewhere where the normal world doesn’t exist, and magic does? Be a hero? Hell, maybe you want to be the loyal sidekick to the hero who gets to slack off and have a good fucking time. You can even play a villain if that’s your thing. You can create whatever sort of character you want. Be whoever you want.” 

Steve felt himself starting to nod. There were times he had been the hero and the villain—in real life, though. “I don’t think I’ve ever really wanted to be someone else.” Steve had been pretty content with who he was. Now that he was done with sports and school, he felt more like himself than ever.  

No, I guess you wouldn’t have, thought Eddie. What reason would King Steve have to want to change who he was? It must’ve been nice to feel so secure in himself growing up. 

“I get the appeal, though. Wanting to be in a different place, be surrounded by different people and have magical powers…” Steve laughed at saying that out loud. It reminded him of El. Was she a real-life D&D character? “Tell me about some of your magical powers in DND.” He was genuinely interested. Was Eddie a hero or a villain? Did he use his powers for good or evil? 

Eddie found no unkind laughter in Steve’s eyes when he searched them. Maybe because they were drinking, Steve was more open to conversation with the freak and his freaky game, but maybe he truly wanted to know. Eddie smiled at him then, warmer than he had all night.  

The whiskey was absolutely hitting him now because Steve was beginning to take the shape of a handsome knight. A shiny coat of armour and a big sword would suit him. 

Eddie had a habit of imagining what characters people would play. Jason Carver, for example, was a Sibriex: an enormous, hideously constructed demon that oozed blood and bile and smelled like rotting vegetation.  

“I’ve cast many spells and wielded very powerful magic in my days, Sir Harrington.” That came out much flirtier than intended. Eddie swirled the whiskey in his glass instead of taking another sip. Too much more, and he’d be batting his eyes like a cheap tavern wench. “One of my personal favorites to cast is Fireball. Pretty self-explanatory, that one. It’s a low-level spell, but it always adds a bit of chaos and flair to the battlefield.” 

Becoming enamored with Eddie's speech about the game, Steve listened intently and felt his face heat up rapidly. His cheeks were pink, probably from the whiskey, but could it have been from Eddie calling him Sir Harrington? Like the knight in shining armor he always craved to be. Who knew? Perhaps it was a combination of the two. Steve couldn’t help but stare. Eddie was so animated and passionate. Steve was entranced. He was doing the impossible: making something incredibly nerdy sound cool. 

“And then there’s Meteor Swarm. That one is just plain fun, man. It’s like Fireball on dru—” 

The stereo turned on, whooshing with loud, dead air. It crackled at a volume of one hundred, overloading the speakers. The lights burned intensely bright, and the bulbs broke with a loud pop. 

It startled Eddie so much that he was the one to reach out for Steve this time, grabbing his forearm and squeezing it hard as they were plunged into darkness.  “Jesus!” Eddie hissed. 

The screeching sound caused immediate pain in Steve’s ears. He was about to cover them with his hands to stop the piercing noise from hurting him further when it suddenly became silent. The speakers had blown. 

Vecna was doing this. The Upside Down was creeping into Steve’s house, but why? He didn’t know or understand. 

Eddie’s hold made him tense up because his grip was so strong, yet Steve could feel Eddie trembling behind the tight grasp. He didn’t know what to do and had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. From experience with the Upside Down, he knew whatever was happening wasn’t good. Vecna wasn’t done fucking with them yet. 

Steve had an urge to run to his bed with Eddie. They could get under the covers and wait out whatever was happening. Pretend it wasn’t real and it wasn’t happening like they’d done when they were kids. 

Unfortunately, they weren’t kids, and this wasn’t a fictional monster—the kind Steve’s dad would reassure him wasn’t there and wasn’t real. This was happening, and it was real. They couldn’t hide. It was something they had to face right now. 

Maybe it was naive to believe that they were safe. Steve thought bringing Eddie there was a good idea and that his house would be a safe haven. Somehow, he thought it would still be okay. 

Eddie was still holding on to him. Steve touched his arm. “Eddie, it’s alright,” he said confidently. Steve gave his arm a soothing rub and a reassuring squeeze. 

Steve was touching him again. This time, it was probably because of Eddie’s death grip on his arm. He couldn’t see much of Steve in the dark, but his voice was calm, and his hands were soft like he put on lotion twenty times a day. 

Steve was feeling lightheaded, trying to figure out what to do, not because of the situation or because Eddie’s touch was raising his blood pressure. 

Eddie started to breathe normally again when the spell between them was broken. 

“ROBERT!” 

The scream made the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck stand up even higher.

The next thing they heard was a loud thump directly above them, and immediately following, there was another softer thump. Steve’s eyes got big, and he jumped up, dismantling Eddie’s grip. “Mom? Dad?!” 

Taking off, he ran up the stairs as fast as possible in the dark to see what was happening to them. 

Eddie didn’t want to follow the cry of terror. He really didn’t want to. Every muscle in his body was locked, and screaming do not fucking run towards that it is BAD news, but Steve was already up, and Eddie couldn’t let him face this alone. 

Scrunching his hands into fists, Eddie stood up.  “Steve, wait!” he called. 

Luckily, he hadn’t had so much whiskey that he couldn’t walk straight, but it seemed to be doing the trick in making him more courageous, thank Christ. He caught up with Steve when he was already at the top of the staircase, staring in frozen horror at a middle-aged woman who’d collapsed in front of a half-ajar door. 

It was Mrs. Harrington, the maker of that wonderful pot roast—the maker of Steve.  

Eddie touched Steve’s shoulder before kneeling beside her with him. She looked ashen and unmoving. Eddie pressed two fingers against her neck, searching. He waited a few seconds before looking up and admitting, “I don’t… I don’t feel a pulse.”

[concreteburialplot]

Virality // 06*

06 - Whiplash*

summary/masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3

word count: 3.5k

cw: smut, alcohol, weed, fingering, drunken (consensual, protected) sex, kinda intense ruffilo 👀, 18+ MDNI

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc

a/n: don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :) future chapters w smut will have a * by the title

VALLIE

Nicholas and I get Noah onto his feet and practically carry him to his room which thankfully is on the first floor. Since Nick and I are also pretty drunk we sort of just plop him on his messy bed and set some water and ibuprofen on his nightstand.

Even though I’m crossfaded, it doesn’t stop me from observing his room. It’s what you’d expect, posters everywhere, a gaming chair with two monitors, striped navy sheets, but he at least has a bed frame. It reeks of weed, cigarettes, and sweat. What throws me off the most is how filthy the room is – I never expect a man’s room to be immaculate, but this is a disaster. There’s trash everywhere, crumpled soda cans, glass bottles, empty cigarette boxes, ash everywhere. His bed is full of mess too, piled with game controllers, books, rolling trays, lighters, a laptop, an ipad, and that’s just from the brief glance at it. The disarray takes up half of his entire bed and he is left with a sliver of mattress.

Nicholas carefully closes the door behind us like Noah is a baby he doesn’t want to wake. The house is empty, no boys, no music, nothing. “Do you have any more weed?” I blurt out, I need something and maybe smoking would help reign in my intoxication. He gives me a funny look with peaked brows. “What!” I ask playfully, still feeling the swirly buzz of alcohol spinning on my tongue.

“You just didn’t strike me as a smoker.” Giving me a small smirk before rounding the table, “It’s in the living room.” He gestures across the house and I follow closely behind. He snatches a glass jar and a neon green plastic bong from the bookshelf next to the TV then sits down on the couch, placing both items on the coffee table. “Folio is the roller so, I hope you don’t mind a bong? I can get a pipe if you want, I’m sure I could find one-.”

“I can handle a bong, thank you.” I bite down on my bottom lip to hide the smile that begs to plaster itself across my face.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” The words seem to be edged with some hint of accusation, but I dismiss it as me just being a paranoid smoker. He packs the bowl with green carefully, making sure to pick out any stems or inconsistencies. Then, he hands me the piece and a lighter. “First hit.” Offering it towards me.

Sober me would definitely over-analyze the sanitation of this bong, seeing as it’s been shared amongst at least four men with I’m sure questionable guests – but I’m not sober, and I need this hit. Seamlessly, I press my lips to the thick black rim of the bong, use the lighter to sizzle the ground flower and inhale the opaque smoke. For a moment, I think I took it like a champ, until I completely exhaled and am consumed by a coughing fit. I shakily hand the bong back to Nicholas who’s laughing at me. “Dude, your face is so red right now. Are you good?”

“It’s just been a long time since I smoked from a bong.” I struggle to get out the words between coughs. I use a water bottle I’d stolen from the fridge to help ease the burning in my throat. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything fun, I haven’t even drank in months since I’ve been so busy managing the last stadium tour. I needed this night more than I thought.

He easily takes a hit, exhaling a thick white cloud above us. “I got you.” He states as he leans across the coffee table and reaches into a decorative wooden bowl, grabbing something that sounded like crumpled plastic. His hand opens to reveal a small hill of vibrant Jolly Ranchers, “These help with the coughing, don’t ask, they just do.” A kind smile tugs at the edges of his mouth.

“Thanks.” I mirror his smile and take a blue raspberry rancher. After unraveling it out of the wrapping, I place it on my tongue. Much to my surprise, it does help significantly. “Wow, that’s crazy how fast that works. My eyes were fucking watering.”

“You’re welcome.” He replies with a smug smirk as he picks out a cherry flavored one to eat.

The events from that first rainy day at my house repeated themselves because we were once again sitting criss cross in front of each other on the couch eating snacks. From the amount of giggles that filled the living room and the heavy slur in our voices, it is clear that we were insanely crossfaded. I thought smoking would help my drunkness, but it only amplified it.

It’s 2 am and the house is still dead silent except for us. We’re trying to keep it down and speak in whispers, but it always seems to fail. Our knees are practically overlapping as we hold a tub of fruity sherbet between us. Somewhere along the adventure of eating the sorbet, I became aware of his eyes on me. Any time I catch a glimpse of him blood rushes to my cheeks, so I try my best to avoid it. But then, it becomes another drunken game I want to win.

I place a bit of the cold sugary treat on my tongue, taking my time to fully clean off the spoon and pulling it from my mouth with a pop. His stare follows my every movement and lingers on my mouth. “Hm.” I hum, “Can you check if my tongue is still blue from the Jolly Rancher?” I don’t know what I’m trying to get out of that, but it feels like some sort of a power move.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure.” He answers, his voice lined in caution.  

I lean forward, making sure to show off my low cut top and innocently stick my tongue out. His eyes widen slightly, “Yeah, still blue.” Before I can retract, he matches my energy, “What about mine? Still red?” He offers out his tongue just like I did.

I tug at my bottom lip with my eyes glued to his tongue thinking about what it would feel like to be under it. “Mhm, yep.” I nod. There’s stillness between us as our gazes shift between each other’s lips and eyes.

Our lips clash together, and it’s like a cage of butterflies locked in my stomach just unleashed throughout my entire body. Between the butterfly frenzy, the alcohol and the weed, my whole body is buzzing and on fire. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t care, everything feels so fuzzy and so good.

We mutually pull from the kiss, analyze each other’s eyes, then reconnect our lips again. Trembly hands find their ways into each other’s hair, pulling us closer. I can tell he’s holding back but I need more. My body’s moving faster than my mind, I don’t even have a moment to think before I practically throw the tub of ice cream onto the coffee table in order to deepen the kiss.

Every last bit of professionalism and restraint leaves my body when his large hands find my waist and pulls me closer. His tongue sweeps against my bottom lip and I oblige with entrance. Our tongues dance together at the same momentum that our bodies are reacting to each other. I draw away for just a moment, “I normally don’t do this with clients.” I breathe out hastily.

“I don’t do this with managers.” He shoots back immediately, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Do you want to stop?” But the hunger behind his silver eyes answers for me. He meets my lips again and pulls me into his lap, with my knees anchored at each side of him. My short skirt rides up my thighs, so it is just my panty-covered core against his strained jeans. I roll my hips against his in an attempt to get some friction. He lets out a deep groan from the back of his neck, his hands gripping my hips hard as I move against him.

He detaches from my lips and soon finds my neck, beginning to suck at the sensitive skin below my ear. “Fuck.” I whine out quietly, still grinding against him.

“We should probably move to my room...” Nicholas mumbles with a reluctant urgency in his voice.

I think about it for a moment, but I know I’ll back out if I comply. If I agree I won’t follow through – which is the smarter idea but I’m not thinking with my brain right now. My head is drunk and hazy and all I can think about was him. “I don’t want to.” I answer under my breath.

“But if the others catch us –.”

“They won’t.” I briefly look around and take an oversized blanket off the back of the couch, draping around me, creating a small fort over us. “We can hide if we need to.”

He nods subtly and finds his way back onto my neck, my eyes flutter closed in ecstasy when his tongue begins drawing circles into the sensitive skin. He abruptly stops for a short second, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” Whispering just below my ear.

“I know.” I reply in a hush. Neither one of us complies to our logic though. Nicholas leans back against a cushion behind him, bringing me down with him. “Do you want to stop?” I repeat.

“No.” He presses sloppy kisses across my neck to the other side. “I fucking need you.” His voice is deep and raspy and it sets my stomach ablaze.

I let out a whimper as his sucking on my skin intensifies. Any other sober version of me would be losing her mind about the inevitable hickies, but right now they’re making me tingle all over. Between my thighs there is a throbbing that is begging for him. My hand curls into his long hair and perhaps I need him just as ferociously. I grab his hand resting on my hip and guide it between my legs. He freezes below me, like touching me would get him in trouble. His grey eyes gaze up at me, they’re masking primal hunger with innocence. “Touch me.” I instruct in a whisper.

That’s all the convincing he needed and there is nothing hiding his desire anymore. His fingers easily slipped into my panties and ran two digits up my folds. I inhale sharply; the pleasure is almost too powerful when his fingers finally reach my clit. “You’re so fucking wet.” He breathes out gruffly, unmistakable need in his voice.

My own hand traces down his abdomen landing on the button and zipper of his jeans which I instantly undo and dip into his boxers, wrapping my hand around his already hard member. “You’re so fucking hard.” The sudden stimulation sends him into overdrive, bucking his hips up into my hand and a deep groan comes from deep in his chest. 

His glimmering eyes search mine for something, but I can’t tell what it is, maybe permission? At first, I try to decipher the search but then I begin to notice the soft edges of his cheeks and the fullness of his lips, the perfect slope of nose. In this moment he looks just so… beautiful, in a way I hadn’t noticed before. Maybe it is the conglomerate of substances in my body that’s making me see him this way, like some sort of extra cushion to allow myself to sleep with him.

Suddenly, he uses his free hand to seize my jaw to meet his lips again. His hands roughly grab and grope me, his own professional and polite demeanor slipping from him. The pads of his fingertips teasingly roll against my clit before sliding down and slipping two fingers into me. I gasp sharply into the kiss when he hooks them right into my g-spot sending shock waves through my blood vessels. I collapse into his neck whimpering with each curl of his fingers. His free hand is firmly gripping onto my hip in a way that could easily command my entire body. With every passing moment I see a much different side from his normal calm and kind, right now he’s feral and rabid and looking at me like I’m the first meal he’s had in years.

I’ve slept with enough men to know when they’re giving their all, and I can tell he’s not. He has a loose grip on control, under any other circumstances, with any other man, I’d try to provoke him. But the intensity of his restraint almost scares me, it feels like observing a hungry shark from within the safety of a protective metal cage. His energy is circling me, hunting me, looking for my weak spot – but I know he won’t go for it, he just wants to see me squirm.

I spit into my hand before moving up and down on his veiny shaft and he lets out a low groan that sounds more like thunder rolling. His fingers dig into my hip bone so hard I can almost feel the blood rushing to form bruises. I wonder if he’s only like this because he’s drunk.

His cock is thick and long and pulsing in my hand; the more I jerk him the more I need him. As if we communicated telepathically, his hand squeezes the cheeks of my face forcing me to look into his eyes again, “I need you.” He demands, a bit louder than before.

“Yes. Me too.” I nod desperately, “Do you have a condom?”

He runs his tongue between his lips and points to a ceramic jar on the coffee table that he can’t reach. I lean over and just barely get it with the tips of my fingers, rolling it closer to the edge. I pull the interlocking lid off to find it full of condoms. I pick the first one I see, rip it open with my teeth then slide it down his length. The whole time he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me whole. He pulls his fingers from me so I can align my entrance with his cock. I pump him slowly to tease but his nails digging into my thigh tells me he’s not patient. I let myself sink down onto him and he fills me wholly, completely, almost painfully, if I don’t keep myself suspended a bit. “Fuck.” I breathe out.

He hasn’t moved and the way he’s looking up at me feels like the calm before a storm. Unexpectedly, his hand snatches my jaw and the air slips from my windpipe as he brings me down to his lips, “You better start moving if you don’t want me to destroy you completely.” He growls lowly and I obey, beginning to rut my hips on him. We let out a long moan almost in unison and our lips meet again. One hand I tangle into his raven locks and the other goes down to find my pulsing clit.

The pace I’m keeping isn’t enough so I speed up like I’m trying to satisfy a hunger I can’t reach. Our tongues are intertwined and fighting for dominance but he’s winning. I tug at his hair and ride him faster to gain control. Both of his hands glide up my thighs and take hold of my hips, I don’t think much of it until he begins to ram into me from below. I crumble completely in his hands and fall into the curve of his neck letting out pathetic whimpers. He thrusts up rhythmically, reaching the deepest parts of me and setting fire to every cell in my body. His deep and raspy grunts fill my ears and only furthers the tingling that’s spreading over my skin. My fingers roll into my clit quicker with each passing second, “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come.” I warn, sensing my climax rapidly approaching.

“Come for me, baby, come all over my cock.” Nicholas grunts out sternly, sounding more like a command. His own breathy groans tell me he’s close too.

Bliss washes over me, bursting through every inch of my body and threatens to come out in screams. My hand grips his hair tightly while I bite down hard onto his shoulder to stifle the noises wanting to come out. His frenzied thrusts land into my sweet spot over and over and it’s too much for me to handle. The pleasure comes out in tears, spilling down my cheeks and onto his shirt that is crinkled underneath my piercing teeth. At my highest peak, he’s beginning to unravel with sloppy but hasty ruts into me until finally, he slams into me hard and goes rigid. I feel his cock twitch and throb inside me, spilling his seed into the condom. He lets out short, breathy groans while he rides out his orgasm.

Finally spent, I deflate and land on his chest. Our breathing is in sync with our chests rising and falling together. I expect that the following moments will be excruciatingly awkward, but he surprises me. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer into him. I breathe in deep and his woodsy cologne fills my nostrils, scaring away all the uncomfortable fears immediately. It’s comforting to have someone’s smell and warmth to hold onto, which is vastly different to my most recent hookups offered. 

Contrary to the beast I just encountered moments ago, Nicholas is now gentle and delicate, like normal. It gives me a feeling similar to whiplash, how he could flip from playful and sweet to something quite the opposite. Just the thought spins an excitement in my tummy that I’ve never felt before.

We lay there for a while in silence, probably because we don’t know what to say or how this happened or how we got here. I clear my throat and lift myself up on my palms and wrap the blanket around me, suddenly feeling exposed. “Do you mind if I crash here? I definitely can’t drive.”

He wipes the sweat from his forehead, “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He discretely takes care of the condom, tying it off and tucking it into the wrapper.

There are external worries about what this all means banging on the outside of my drunken head so, I need a distraction. I reach over for the bong and take a few consecutive short hits until it eases the growing anxiety of everything. I want to tell him how good it was, how good he made me feel, how I want to go again, but it seems forbidden to speak about. It shouldn’t be talked about. 

“You can, um, sleep in my bed if you want. I can sleep out here.” He offers. “You done with that?” He tilts his head to the plastic in my hands.

“Oh, yeah.” I exhale milky smoke above us. “But um, I’m fine just sleeping out here? Do you have an extra charger?”

“Sure.” He answers and takes the bong from my hands. After a hit or two Nicholas gets up, picking up the trash and ash on the coffee table before leaving the room without a word. He returns with a spare duvet folded up topped with clothes and a charger. “Here you go.”

I take the stack and recognize the baggy shirt and joggers to be merch I didn’t see at their table. “Thank you.” I reply softly, averting my eyes away from him.

“You can keep ‘em. They’re just old unused merch.” He circles his fingertips into his temple and yawns, “Can I get you anything else?”

I shake my head, “No I’m good. I think I’m just gonna crash.” I can hear myself slipping back into my normal stiff work persona even through the weed.

He nods awkwardly, “Okay, well. I guess I’ll let you get some sleep then.”

I give him a tightlipped smile. “See you in the morning.”

He heads towards his room which happens to be just behind the couch. I press my palms into my eye sockets trying to make sense of what just happened. “Fuck.” I mumble then let out a long sigh. I decided that this is a tomorrow-me problem and that I need to get some sleep. 

Being too lazy to get up, I change beneath the blanket we fucked under and assess my bedding situation. I decided that the thin duvet would make a better pillow than a cover. Once tucked in with the blanket we used as a fort, the same woodsy cologne fills my nose and oddly comforts me. I close my eyes in an attempt to ignore the scent and the feeling that accompanies it but it’s useless. My hands find the corner of the blanket, bunch it up into a little cushion, press it to my nose and inhale deeply. It smells like him, cozy and warm. A part of me wishes I’d let myself sleep in his bed, maybe even asked him to sleep in it with me. But I am anything but warm and cozy, I am frigid and stale. He wouldn’t want me chilling his bed anyway and I shouldn’t want to siphon off his warmth. I was right in that first meeting, this is already more than I bargained for.

Next Chapter -> 07 - Heartthrob Strategy

a/n: thank you so much if you took the time to read this! I'm extremely appreciative of those of you who are reblogging or commenting on previous chapters 🥺

lmk if you liked it 🖤

[specialinterestshows]

Have an early morning smoke session with your girlfriend in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic

Warnings for this section: Cannabis (weed), dirty talk, biting, hickies

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 43 of ?): R(h)emind Me I’m Yours

Squinting in the face of the lamp you just lit, you let your eyes adjust before sitting down on the couch. You usually didn’t smoke at this hour unless you’d woken up from a bad dream, and your apartment seemed a bit surreal. Glancing through the dark windows, you feel almost as if you’re sitting in a liminal space - just waiting for the bus or the train at some odd hour of the night.

“I’ll get us some more water, babe,” Rhea says, walking out from your bedroom and giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze as she passes you.

“Thanks, Rhe,” you reply, smiling, watching her duck into the kitchen before getting your supplies together. Searching the cushions for your lighter, you realize you had left your phone on the couch when Rhea had carried you to the bedroom earlier.

Recalling the message Liv sent before you went to bed, you decide to check your phone later and continue looking until you’ve found the lighter, getting to work packing a new bowl once you do.

Flashes of the dream you had just woken up from kept entering your mind as you packed the flower. It hadn’t been much of a question in your mind as to whether or not you wanted to see anyone other than Rhea - until you had met Liv. As much as you hoped the dream meant nothing, your dreams had never been particularly metaphorical or difficult to decipher; this one was no exception. However, entering into a relationship with someone who already had a partner was new enough for you. Starting something with someone else at the same time seemed like too much right now, especially someone your girlfriend had a history with. Yet it seemed like the thought wouldn’t leave so easily.

“Don’t tell me you started without me!” Rhea joked, taking in your distant stare as she turned the corner with two glasses of ice water.

“I would never,” you reply, brought back by the comforting sound of her voice and gesturing to the untouched greens you had packed. Sitting next to you, Rhea set down the drinks before snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. The pressure from her lips made you smile, as if a bit of happiness from every other time she had kissed you was pouring from her mouth and into yours.

“Shotgun me?” Rhea asks, tracing your lips with the tips of her fingers after pulling away an inch. You nod slowly, caught in her hypnotic gaze - the look she gave you when she knew you wanted her.

“Take a nice, big hit for Mami,” she says, voice low and sultry as she moves the mouth of the bong in your direction before plucking the lighter from your hand.

“Good girl,” Rhea praises you as you inhale the bowl she lights for you, eyes not leaving yours as you squirm in your seat. Pulling out the bowl, she smirks as you struggle to take in the rest of the smoke - a bit more than you’re used to, taking up the last of the space in your lungs. Helping you keep the piece steady with one hand, Rhea leans in and sucks out the smoke from between your lips faster than you can exhale.

“Don’t forget to drink plenty of water, baby,” she says, letting the smoke escape as she spoke, “You’re going to need it.”

Setting the piece on her own lap instead, Rhea gave your lower back a gentle squeeze, encouraging you to grab your water and take a few sips. Even having broken eye contact, you felt her eyes watching you, making note of every small signal you couldn’t hide that you wanted nothing more than to be underneath her.

Turning around at the sound of the bong water bubbling, you catch Rhea taking in the last of a hit she must have started while you were too distracted thinking of what you wanted her to do to you. Grinning, she pulls you back close to her by your waist, setting aside the piece and lighter to free her other hand.

Caressing your face, Rhea pries your lips apart with her tongue before forcing as much smoke into your mouth as she could, as quickly as she could. The strength behind the way she touched you seemed to have returned to intensity with which she held and played with you before ever having hurt you, teeth moving to your neck, making you let out a desperate “yes!” once she started sucking and biting. As wonderful as it was when Rhea was soft and gentle with you, you had been craving the passion that knocked you off your feet - unfiltered, unrestrained, pure desire.

“Tell Mami what you want, baby,” she purrs in your ear, groping you underneath your shirt.

“Mmm, fuck,” you whisper as her fingers find your nipples - then louder, “Please, Mami… I want you to be rough with me. I want you to cover me in marks so everyone knows I’m yours.”

“Such a dirty girl,” Rhea praises you, pulling hard on your nipples before letting go, chuckling at the moan you let out, “Let’s cover that pretty body of yours in bites and bruises, darling.”

[end part forty-three of ?]

Part 44: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/728674790535282688/absolute-smokeshow-part-44-of-definitely-a

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Tag List (thank you!)

@cherryberryshine , @littlemiss-fanficlover , @elisewithak , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domlynch

[nappstrrquinks]

Roommate series: Part 1

“I’m going outside to smoke, do you want to come with me?” I ask. “Even just for company.” I add. It was still early, but in the colder months, it’s dark by 8.

“Sure, I’ll smoke too, just let me grab my stuff.” They replied. I love having company when I get high, it makes me feel safer. I wait by the door with my bong already prepped and a big blanket in tow while they grab a pipe and back a bowl into it. We head outside and spread the blanket over us, settling into the couch we put on our porch months ago, just for occasions like this. For the first few minutes, it is mostly quiet, other than the clicking of lighters and slow exhales of smoke. Only halfway through our bowls, I lean my head on their shoulder, saying “I’m very glad you are my friend.” They turn to me and place a soft kiss on the top of my head, and caress the side of my face in their hand. “I love you too,” they reply. We finish smoking between half-stoned conversations, spacing out, and half a dozen subject changes. Finally done, I place my bong on the porch and ask “can we stay out for a bit? I wanna look at the stars.” “Of course.” Is the reply. We have been good friends and roommates for a long time now, so I think nothing of curling up closer and wrapping my arms around their waist. With one arm behind me, their opposite hand reaches under my chin, lifting my head to meet theirs, looking into my face before leaning in and kissing me. Since both of us were single young adults living together, there had been times before where we ended up in each others beds, so kissing was nothing new for us. They appeared flustered after pulling back, so I stretched up and our lips met once again, this time for longer. Underneath the blanket, their hands reach my hips and my hands snake their way under their shirt. Our lips still attached, they shift my weight on top of them and grip my thighs, as if claiming me. It doesn’t take long for them to realize I’m not wearing panties under my white and blue skirt. “Mm was somebody anticipating something?” They tease, feeling how wet I had become under my skirt. Immediately, I felt small and submissive “no, not exactly.” They position my weight over their knees and begin unbuckling and unzipping their jeans. Despite the dark and still being covered by underwear, I can tell they are rock hard. I stand up and with a little bit of wiggling, their jeans and boxers are at their knees. I take my seat again, not yet allowing them to slip inside, but resting against my wetness. We continue to kiss, and their cold hands reach up my shirt to my boobs, making my nipples hard. After them massaging my breasts, I reach down and slide their tip up and down to make sure they are all wet before lining them up at my hole. Putting more and more weight down, I’m only halfway on before I begin to moan from the full feeling inside me, which only gets a smirk in response. I kept going until all my weight was on their lap, and I could feel them bottoming out inside me. “You feel so good on top of me. Such a good girl.” At these words I melt. All I can do is bite my lip and nod my head with my eyes closed. “Come one baby girl, bounce on my dick, make yourself cum.” I needed no other instructions and began a fast, rhythmic bouncing. It didn’t take long for me to feel the heat and pressure building inside. Instead of bouncing, I started grinding back and forth of their dick to get internal and external stimulation. I kissed and sucked their neck while they guided my hips back and forth. It didn’t take long for my legs begin to shake, my head buried into their neck and hands gripping their shoulders, and biting my lip to avoid moaning because we are still outside. I continued to ride out my orgasm with them still guiding my hips before finally resting on them, still inside, and placed one kiss on their neck.

Leaving our weed outside, they grabbed me, still wrapped up in the blanket, and stood up. As soon as they stood up, their dick slid out of my still soaked hole, and they carried me inside saying, “now it’s my turn.”

[nabibeans]

Chapter 6: valley trip part 2

I’m leaving ateez…

The word replayed in the members heads all night, no one slept, not even the staff members. Everyone too shocked at the leader words; yet somehow they’d expected this, the pressure of being transgender in an industry like this wasn’t going to be easy, especially not when he was also expecting a child at such a young age. The night came and went, no one knew what to say, no one knew what this trip would bring. It was roughly 8am when Hongjoong hauled himself out of bed to take care of his morning sickness, Seonghwa hot on his heels to make sure his boyfriend was alright.

Wooyoung was the first to break the eerie silence, “do you think he meant it? Or do you think he was just upset?” Yunho sighed, “both. I’ve never seen his face so serious, I think the shit he’s gotten from staff didn’t help.” The staff members all nodded in agreement, Gia; one of the makeup artist spoke up. “You know, maybe we should weed out the members of staff that have been giving him a hard time, make sure to give Hongjoong-ah a safe space in the company at least.” Everyone turned to the small woman. “That’s not a bad idea, but how would we do that?” Soohyun, a manager spoke.

Mingi spoke up next, “we do an anonymous survey, created by the members. We’re all queer too, it’s not just Hongjoong.” The members nodded, “it’s not fair for our leader to suffer when all of us are lgbt identitying.” Yeosang agreed. The staff smiled amongst themselves, “we can do that.”

•🏳️‍🌈•

Hongjoong panted as he clutched the toilet bowl, his knuckles white from how strong his grip was; barely able to register his boyfriend beside him. “You’re okay, just let it all out.” Seonghwa was worried, Hongjoong was stressed, and his body was showing the signs. The stress would be bad for the baby, he needed to fix this. “You know, you should think about your…” , “ I’m not debuting under a company where managers are gonna call me shit!” Hongjoong snapped, Seonghwa’s eyes widened. The small, soft looking Hongjoong was replaced with an angry, hurt Hongjoong. The worst part was, he had every right to be angry.

“At least think about it during this trip. We’re here all weekend.” Hongjoong got up, wiping his mouth. “I know, I’ll put on a show for the camera then what? I go back to being the tranny that got knocked up!?” Tears fell down his face, a hiccup leaving the boy. “That’s not who I am! I’m Kim Hongjoong, but more than that I’m gonna be a father, to your child!” Seonghwa hugged his boyfriend tightly, letting his small body relax against him. “I know, I know baby.” Soft kisses pressing to the top of his head. “Shhh, it’s okay.” He’d make sure Hongjoong would debut, and if he didn’t. Then Seonghwa wouldn’t debut either.

When the pair came out of the bathroom the other members were working on something at the kitchen table. “What are you heathens up to?” Hongjoong slipped into an empty chair. “We’re making a survey, what’s in the best interest for an lgbt kpop group!” Wooyoung spoke proudly. Seonghwa tilted his head, sitting next to Hongjoong and taking his hand. “What’s that for?” Jongho didn’t look up when he spoke, “to make sure Hongjoong has a safe environment to debut. If you drop out of Ateez so do we.” Hongjoong’s heart swelled up with happiness, they’d defend him? Just like that? Shaking his head he smiled, “how about we go swimming after? I want to have a bit of fun before I’m on bed rest until my baby is born.”

San nodded, “speaking of which, have you two thought about the dorm situation with the baby?” They hadn’t. They hadn’t thought about where their baby would sleep, who would watch the baby while they were overseas, during schedules. “We have time.” Seonghwa held Hongjoong’s hand, seven months. They had time. “Don’t stress it, you have us to help! We’re the baby’s uncles after all.” The group members finished up their work before taking the papers to the staff.

“Now let’s go have fun!”

The group had headed down to the pool once they were all changed, Hongjoong deciding to take a moment to relax on one of the lounge chairs before joining the others in the water, already tired from the walk. “He’s already getting tired from such little activity, is he going to be alright?” San asked. Yeosang nodded, “he will be, his body is changing. It’s normal for pregnancy to make you tired easier.” Seonghwa stayed near the edge of the pool, mostly to keep an eye on his boyfriend who was curled up on his phone, a pillow under his head. “Hongjoong don’t lay directly in the sun at least get some shade.” Hongjoong only nodded in response. “I will.” Yunho came behind Seonghwa, spraying him with a water gun. “Hey come on have fun! He’s gonna be fine.” Seonghwa perused his lips. “Yeah I guess so, I’m just worried.” Yunho smiled, “I know, but hovering over him isn’t going to help.” Seonghwa nodded, “okay, I’m totally getting you back by the way!” Yunho laughed as he swam away. Hongjoong had been recording on his phone and laughed, stopping the recording he was about to play it back when a notification popped up.

Mom: I’ve heard you’re keeping your baby. Don’t contact me anymore. You’re no son of mine. *you have been blocked by this contact*

His blood ran cold, teeth clenching. So that was it? His own mother wouldn’t be in her grandchild’s life? That was fine. Blocking the number back he stood up, “I’m coming in, no splashing!” He stepped into the cold water, shivering a bit. “It’s about time lazy ass!” Wooyoung called jokingly. “Who are you calling lazy ass-aish!” Two arms wrapped around his waist, lifting him into the water. “Park Seonghwa!” He shrieked playfully, holding onto his boyfriend. “It’s about time you got out of your spot and enjoyed the water.” Hongjoong smiled, cupping his boyfriend’s face to kiss him. Seonghwa happily kissed him back, suddenly a rush of cold water made the two separate. “Hey!” Hongjoong splashed back in defense. Laughing happily, it made Seonghwa’s heart warm to see his boyfriend having a good time.

•

•

“You guys are harassing Hongjoong!” The ceo yelled through the screen, the staff had been called to an emergency meeting with the CEO. “We aren’t! It’s one of us.” Soohyun pointed towards Minjae, the manager who’d started the whole debacle. “He shouldn’t be in the group! His pregnancy is going to slow them down and who’s going to watch that fucking infant when it’s born!” The ceo had heard enough, “Minjae; maybe this company isn’t for you, I’d like to ask you to leave and clean out your office. You’ve been terminated. The rest of you, just keep the group happy for the weekend. I’ll address the issues with them once their schedules have settled. For now, if Hongjoong doesn’t want to be filmed don’t film him. Understood.” , “understood.”

•

•

The members had decided they were finished in the pool after a splash fight and a water gun battle, sitting on the edge of the pool with watermelon now as they chatted about their schedules. “Hongjoong-ah, what are you really going to do? Are you really leaving?” Wooyoung asked. Hongjoong hummed, stuffing a piece of watermelon into his mouth. “I was just pissed off, still am. I’ve never been treated with respect as a trans person and honestly, the pregnancy is gonna make getting recognized as a man even harder. I don’t want to leave the group but…maybe I should to give you guys less hassle.” Mingi shook his head. “No way, we’re with you all the way! You’re our captain so stay!” The other members shared their agreement.

Hongjoong’s heart was full as he leaned into Seonghwa, his boyfriend rubbing his shoulder. “Alright; I’ll stay. But only if you guys change dirty diapers for the first month.” , “deal.” The group laughed, enjoying the rest of their day by the poolside. Heading back up to the house was a task, Seonghwa carried a sleeping Hongjoong on his back while the other members ran past him waving sparklers they’d found from god knows where. Hongjoong was staying, he’d debut with them; looking back at his sleeping boyfriend he smiled.

As soon as they entered the house Seonghwa took Hongjoong straight to bed, quietly working the sleeping male out of his wet clothes and into some dry ones. He was about to change when his phone rang, his mother’s phone number flashing on the screen. Quickly grabbing the phone he answered, “hey mom what’s up!?” , “Honey is Hongjoong there?” , “yeah we’re at a house in the valley for filming why what’s going on?” He could hear rustling, then keys jingling. “I’m on my way to meet with his mother. She contacted me.” Seonghwa arched his brow. “For what?” His mother sighed, “to gather Hongjoong’s things from her. She doesn’t want her son.”

Seonghwa’s heart dropped, turning to look at his sleeping boyfriend. His mother was abandoning him? Just like that. “Don’t say anything to him. I’m sure she’s already contacted him.” Seonghwa hummed, “I won’t.” His mother spoke softly. “I’m going to get you two an apartment near KQ, I’ll even talk to the company and see if it’s alright. I’ll pay all the bills and take care of getting food stocked and the place furnished. Just have fun okay?” , “yeah okay mom.” She hummed. “Goodbye son.” , “bye mom.”

Seonghwa sighed as he hung up. This pregnancy journey and road to debut just got a hell of a lot harder.

|| it’s about to get angsty, sorry it’s so short but I wanted to leave on a cliffhanger. I promise things get better for the young couple and their little bean.

[themarginalthinker]

Saint 'Dimitri'

(also known as DMT. Paul and Michael get high, and go down a list of all the things they can put in their bodies because vampire bodies are only addicted to one thing in the long run. tw: Discussions of drug use, references to drugs. I wrote this very quickly bc the idea bit me.)

-

"Weed?"

"Obviously."

"Yeah." Michael flicks a finger towards the bong Paul was filling. "Obviously. Uh...coke?"

Paul raises a brow. "Jumping pretty far, there."

"So sue me, my mom was an ex-Hippy and I'm a good suburban boy. I don't know a lot of drugs. Have you done it?"

"Yup. Got some left too, if you wanna try."

"Eugh. No. You see those people on TV?"

Paul shakes his head. "Worst case scenarios filmed for the ratings, and like, you have to be using for years, dude, before you ever start looking like that. Which, even if you stuff a pound of the shit up there every night for the rest of your life, you won't, because you ain't human."

Michael still hakes his head. "I don't think I'd like the feeling anyway."

Paul grins. "Yeah, you're spooksy enough as it is."

"I'm cautious, which has kept my ass out of the fire more than I can say about the rest of you idiots," Michael shoots back.

"...Technically it wasn't fire, it was buckshot-"

"-and the pair of you still have it embedded in your asses. Next. Uh...morphine?"

"David likes it, but I also think the guy could ask Dwayne to conk him over the head with a metal pipe and it would work just as well."

Michael cocks his head.

"Sleep aid for the supernatural, Mikey."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess he is kinda fitful, huh."

"He's got his reasons- oh for fuck's sake, light!"

Paul snarls lowly and bangs the end of the little zippo on his knee, face screwed up in almost childish frustration. Michael snorts but spares him the continued pain. He reaches into his own pocket and pulls out the one he's been carrying for a while.

Paul takes it gratefully, and doesn't say anything about how Michael doesn't carry any smokes (or doesn't have Marko's knack for setting things on fire randomly), and how it's a much older model, well-cared for and refillable. Made to last from a past era. Not his.

If he had, Michael may have just thrown it at him instead.

But he doesn't say anything, and Paul doesn't either, and the two laps into comfortable silence as the bowl is passed back and forth.

Michael hums, fingers toying with the frayed edges of a hole in the knee of his jeans. "Um...okay, uh. Oxycodone?"

Paul, leaning back against the pillows, blinks owlishly at him, clearly trying to connect some dots. "...I got some random pills from that one car we pulled-"

"No, no, like. Have you ever taken it?" Michael corrects, getting back to the subject they'd been talking about.

"Oh! Uh, nah, gave me hives."

"Well. Okay, I wasn't asking if you liked it, just that you tried it, dude. So that's a yes."

"Like, I think I get it, pain relief," Paul says, leaning even further back, to look up at the hanging tapestries and the garlands of shiny knickknacks and rackam strewn above him. "But it's like. Different. Than this."

He shakes the bowl a little. Michael reaches out a hand to stop him before he spilled something. "Feels...I don't know. Flatter. It's not up here."

Paul motions to his head, and the buzz he no doubt has going. Michael is feeling it too. He makes a small noise of acknowledgement, and leaves it.

"...DMT?"

In an instant, barely as the letters of the acronym had time to leave his mouth, Paul was up. His eyes wide enough even in his relaxed state to see the whites all around them, mouth set in a grimace enough he was almost showing his teeth.

"No. Fuck no, Mike. That shit is- damn, like, I don't wanna have to feel all the shit in reality, but like. I still wanna be in reality, you know?"

Michael shrugs a shoulder, and when the action makes his head feel like it won't stop tilting that way, he follows it and lets himself rest back against the pillow nest they'd made of the bedding.

"It's not that bad," he says, and Paul just shakes his head slowly.

And then stops. A look of consternation passing over his features.

He squints at Michael.

"...Did you-?"

"Well-"

"Oh my God, Mike!"

He's suddenly sitting even further up, crawling forward. (Michael having to take the bong from him and finally set it aside so they didn't dump hot ash on the bed sheets or spill water over everything.) Paul gets into his space, face half a smile, half pure disbelief.

"You said you'd never done anything stronger than shots and dope!"

Michael, to his credit, does imagine he looks at least a little sheepish.

"I just didn't remember it when I said that. It was a while ago. I also don't really remember much of it, just that. Things got weird, some...guy one of the people hosting the party knew brought this stuff in a thermos, but I was also tired as shit, so I think I just thought most of it was dreams."

Paul laughs, "Pretty spacey dreams, dude."

"Yeah, no kidding, it was like. Dreams in dreams...I think I thought the couch cushions were cracks in an endless pit and I was gonna fall in or something...you've never had it though?"

The laughter turns a little darker as Paul pulls back a bit, giving Michael some air. He flops against him though, head sinking down to rest on his belly.

"Not on your life. Big damn predator, out of my gourd on the spirit molecule runnin' around the woods at night? With the sensory stuff that we can feel without drugs? Can you fuckin' imagine..."

Michael supposes he could. Granted, the images in his mind were mostly funny, and in the bond, the boundaries of which were deteriorating with every passing moment, he passed those on to Paul. It got him a chuckle, and the sound played like low timpani in his head.

The conversation lapsed on.

[changingplumbob]

Villareal Household: Chapter 4, Part 2

More Villareal drama, Devin is an actress after all. The newborns are home but things start to get rocky for Luna when she has trouble producing milk. Devin does her best to be supportive and their families visit for Harvestfest. At the end the boys become infants.

Context: The magic of game code allowed my two female sims to have biological twins. Again gameplay in this part would not be possible without the Child Birth Mod by PandaSama, specifically the lactation for Luna.

Saturday evening and we're all back home. Rilian is in the left bassinet in a blue onesie. Alfred is on the right in a green onesie. Both were lovingly knitted by nonna Calista. The skintones are throwing me off a bit, they don't seem to match either parent. Hopefully this changes on age up.

Luna's milk production doesn't seem to have started yet so she takes a cookie meant to help lactation before her nap. Devin finishes her nap and is delighted to find it wasn't all a dream, her sons are here. She calls Callista to tell her, and confirm they will still host Harvestfest tomorrow

Devin: I hope I didn't wake you

Luna: I needed to eat, why is my milk not coming in?

Devin: Amore every woman is different

Luna: I'll try pumping, hopefully I'll get something

Devin: Well hello Rilian. Come here, mama will feed you some nice formula while mummy works on her milk

Luna: *sighs sadly*

Devin: Hi there Alfred. Do you want some yummy formula huh

Luna: Nothing from that one, I'll try the other side

Devin: We can have formula in the meantime, can't we boys

Rilian: *wails*

Luna: It's my fault, he's hungry

Devin: Lu I just fed him, he can't be hungry

Luna: *sadly* mummy is trying

Luna: I don't know what I'm doing wrong

Devin: You're not doing anything wrong, Rilian just inherited my drama skills

Luna: I feel bad

Devin: Lu they'll survive if you can't produce milk

Luna: But they said breast is best

Devin: They also said leeches were an infallible cure

Luna: How do you know that word

Devin: TV

Luna: I'll have another cookie and try again

Devin: Just remember, they wouldn't make baby formula if it wasn't safe for babies to have

Luna tries again. She doesn't mind having a small chest but worries that's part of the problem with her milk supply.

Luna: SCHATZ! I got some

Devin: Well done Lu

Rilian: *Wails*

Devin: OMW I know you're not hungry yet

Luna: I'll give him some cuddles. Hey buddy, mummy is here

Rilian: *sniffs*

Luna: Next feed you'll have real milk, I promise. And so will you Alfred

Alfred: *blinks*

Luna: They're so perfect

And far too soon

Rilian: *wails*

Devin: Yep, you're hungry, got it

Luna: I'll try get some more milk

Devin: Are you sure you don't want to feed them

Luna: You do it, I need to try get our stock up

Devin: Lu you're not failing as a mum if you can't get breast milk

Luna: I wish it felt like that

Devin: How can I help

Luna: Keep buying the cookies

Devin: Lu-

Luna: I just want to try for a bit longer, please

Devin: You're the boss of your body, but they'll love you whether you're feeding them milk or formula, I promise

Luna scoops up each boy before heading back to bed, waiting on her milk.

Harvestfest is here! When Devin wakes up Luna is already busy trying to pump so she decides to take care of the morning chores. Sleep seems to have done Luna good and she's able to get two bottles ready for when her sons wake up.

After appeasing a gnome Devin thinks she can fit in a run before the boys wake up. Like normal she streams it to keep her fame up.

Paparazzi: Mrs Villareal! How are your babies? Can you confirm names

Devin: Good morning Ali. No comment

Ali: Understood

Devin: Have a good Harvestfest Ali

Ali: You to

Luna appeases the other gnomes and gets stuck into her gardening. She enjoys looking after the plants, especially her flowers harvested from the romance festival. It's so much easier to weed now that she doesn't have a bowling ball belly. Hopefully the gnomes will bring new seeds.

Luna tells Devin she's happy gardening so Devin does the next feed.

Devin: Can you taste a difference Alfred? Mummy worked extra hard on this for you

Rilian: *wails*

Devin: Yes she got some for you to caro

After a few extra cuddles Devin goes to practice the lines for her next gig tomorrow night.

Luna: Three, four- how many do we need

Devin: Uh my parents, my siblings, Deanna will probably bring Paris, your brothers, and your sister in law, oh and us, 11, may as well do the whole table

Rilian: *wails*

Luna: Sounds like a, change me now cry, I got him

*Doorbell*

Devin: I'll get that

Devin: Come and eat! Joey made this meal for us earlier

Joey: Because I'm the best brother

Kelly: And you wonder why I'm evil

Aaron: Where's Luna

Devin: Diaper emergency

Calista: I remember those

Paris: How are the- bambinos? Is that the right word

Deanna: *nods*

Devin: They're so small but lovely

Luna: They have Devin's eyes

Aaron: The hero returns

Joey: I knew you could push them out

Devin: She was amazing, it was such hard work

Hugo: Hard work sounds like my sister

Luna: I've missed you

Hugo: Sorry, work's hectic

Luna: Where's Max

Hugo: Where do you think, eating inside with Miriam

Hugo: Anything you need me to do

Luna: Can you produce milk

Hugo: Nope

Calista: Are you having trouble

Luna: I shouldn't complain really

Aaron: You should complain. When we had our kids I always told Calista-

Calista: Tell me everything even if I can't help

Hugo: I'll take these dishes

Luna: Thanks

Luna: I only get milk about half the time

Calista: Don't believe those blogger mums, substituting with formula is fine

Aaron: Joey got mostly formula

Joey: And I'm a genius remember

Luna: Think you'll have kids Miriam?

Miriam: Why would I want to be pregnant, looks shit

Devin: Ma, pa, you ready

Calista: We're coming

Devin: This is Alfred, he was born first. Alfred this is your nonna

Calista: Hello bambino

Luna: Then we have Rilian. Rilian this is your nonno

Aaron: Deanna and Kelly are pretty pale but these two might have them beat

Luna: We'll see when they're infants

Once everyone has left it's time. Luna and Devin get in position and manage to start the age up on the boys at the same time. Will I ever get sick of this animation? No, no I will not.

They're looking pretty identical. Quick makeover. Alfred is on the left. Since he had a green shirt on, green is his first favourite colour. He'll also have green socks for identification. Rilian had a yellow shirt so yellow will be his colour. He has blue socks for identification.

Alfred rolled the sensitive trait while Rilian rolled the cautious trait. Both boys have already unlocked their first smile milestone, smiling at their parents as soon as they aged up. First things first, some tummy time. The boys have to learn how to work their necks.

Alfred: *cries*

Devin: I feel so bad

Luna: Please stop crying boys

Devin: Mama is right here caro

Rilian: *lifts head*

Luna: Well done baby

Devin: Did you hear that Alfred. Don't you want to learn like your brother

Alfred: *lifts head*

Devin: Thank you, see you survived

Luna: We better get them down

Rilian sleeps easy enough but he gets sad about being put down. Turns out he has the Loves Being Held quirk. Alfred has more trouble. He has the Gassy quirk which makes his poor tummy sore. He also has the Frequently Hiccups quirk. Luckily Devin soothes him to sleep and kisses Rilian goodnight.

Previous Part ... Next Part

[slutwithagut]

Post #2

The amount of cigarettes I’m smoking is insane for someone with no income! It’s time to ration. It would be cheaper to roll my own… but I don’t know how to roll. Maybe now is the time to finally learn? I digress. We will worry about that at a later time n date.

I have a close friend who employs me to give him rides home from work. Usually every Monday he needs a ride home from work around 8:10 pm because he goes in at 8 something the next day. Occasionally he asks for rides from the local trolley stop that’s about a 10 minute drive from my house.

I bring this up because my weekly income is about $28 on a good week.

So I need to chill on the tobacco.

Things were easier when I smoked spliff bowls (mole bowls, moke bowls, party bowls, whatever u wanna call them) which is cannabis mixed with tobacco. I’ve purchased a great many bags of bugler tobacco. It’s much more cost effective then buying a pack of cigs. The bugler pouch is roughly good for about 30 cigs versus the 20 you find pre rolled. It costs $7/$8 while a pack of cigs is $10/$11

I had purchased a joint rolling machine and filters earlier this year to roll my own. I found it just didn’t hit the same. I also proceeded to break the joint roller. A common theme in my life. Breaking useful objects due to carelessness and or intoxication. If only y’all knew me when I did XANAX and drank heavily while popping. I broke so many things… three lovely bongs, a babyliss hair straightener, bottles, and endured countless bruises and scratches. I also strained some of my personal relationships as you don’t give a single solitary FUCK when your xanned out.

So moral of the story is I am going to start rationing out my cigarettes.

I might buy a vape but I have to go on the black market for one and it seems like such a hassle.

Smoking cigarettes may seem glamorous and look cool. It feeds my oral fixation. But it makes you stink. I literally need to buy gum, scented hand sanitizer, and a small bottle of body spray so I don’t smell bad.

Wish my luck my loves! It ain’t easy trying to kick my vices.

It’s also 12:19 a.m. while I write this. My brain is tired but my body is on high alert. I do suffer from insomnia and weed helps that a lot.

It’s tough to learn how to live my life with out mind altering substances. I also find myself becoming more irritable. I might need to up the dosage on my medicine. I also kind of want to ask my doctor for sleeping pills… but it seems wrong? Since they have a potential for abuse. It would be nice to actually be able to fall asleep around the same time every night. I’ll probably be up until 2 or 3.

If I fall asleep before that I usually wake between 3 and 4 to pee. Then toss and turn till 6 or 7. Get up, smoke a cigarette and if I’m lucky fall back a sleep for a bit. I awake groggy and feeling worse than when I first woke. But still I nap after waking up. It’s a vicious cycle.

I’m going to start wearing my FitBit smart watch to bed again so I can track my sleep. It lets you know how many times you wake up, how deep your sleep was, etc. and it gives you a sleep score for the night. I want to see if my sleep is truly fucked up enough to constitute medicine. The less pills I’m on the better. But sleep is important and staying up late with my thoughts is not the most pleasant experience.

At least now I have you guys to talk and write to, to pass the time.

Restlessly,

D

[ipodtouchtouchtouch]

sleep paralysis and inviting negativity in

i experienced sleep paralysis for the first time. immediately after waking up from it i sent a voice message to my roommate and my girlfriend telling them what happened. i felt like id been attacked in the night, not like id woken up from a dream. dreaming is not so common for me since i smoke so much weed. but most of the dreams i do have are nightmares. i think those just stick out the most. a typical nightmare for me includes lots of teeth falling out anxiety. its stress in my life manifesting when ive not been addressing it properly in my waking life. theres honestly many things in my life i dont address properly. i should make a list of those things probably. but i will do that later. my sleep paralysis happened on a monday night. the week prior my roommate and i had an honestly traumatic experience together involving a show at our basement venue. it all centered around this lana del rave we hosted. but this subject i absolutely can not get in to. it did though bring a lot of negativity in to our lives. i honestly havent cried that much since deciding to drop out of college in january 2020. its almost certainly what brought on my sleep paralysis. or invited this demon in to my bedroom. or whatever it was. bad energy. my sleep started off all wrong. i fell asleep sitting up watching true detective season one sexy matthew ma con a hey idk how to spell it with my roommate. after that i decided it was time to put myself to bed. but i couldnt be bothered to wash my face or brush my teeth as these days ive been hopelessly depressed. went to bed in my dirty sheets with my dirty face and dirty teeth... in an effort to save myself from being a complete failure. i put on the crystal bowl sound bath chakra healing vibrations album on spotify and set it to repeat. i fell asleep to the crystal bowl vibrations really easily. at first i had normal type dreams. i was in my middle school cafeteria but for some reason it was a high school reunion. i was wearing a backpack and feeling embarrassed about it. my old classmates tried talking to me but i couldnt speak because i kept stress eating candy and then stress chewing on the wrappers and drooling everywhere. i think at one point i was trying to answer a facetime with my friend who lives in new york. then the scene changed. i walk in to a room that is bright and all white with a backdrop hanging, a camera, clothing racks. a man and a woman are standing in the middle of the room waiting to greet me. i looked right at them but i dont know what they look like. "congratulations" they said "you made the call back" i felt very sick suddenly. i told them that i didnt feel well and asked if they would pick my outfits for me. then i laid down under the clothing rack to rest. as they were pulling clothes out above me the man pulled a knit sweater off the rack. it honestly kind of looks like this sweater we sell at urban outfitters. as he pulled it out the yarn began to unravel. it tangled around my neck somehow and the more he pulled the tighter it got around my neck and it felt like a rug burn as it choked me. i tried to yell out "stop, stop, stop" over and over again but i couldnt really audibly yell. this happens to me a lot in my dreams. as im getting over the fear of being choked and start to realize that im dreaming i wake up. i open my eyes and im laying in my bed. but i am not actually awake. it is still a dream actually because i rolled over in bed to see that someone else was asleep on my right. i felt so scared honestly exactly how id feel if i experienced this in real life. i didnt remember falling asleep with anyone. did i black out drunk was a thought i had. i reached out to touch the person in my bed, they looked small i thought maybe it could be my friend em. when i touched their back this person or thing sat up abruptly and began to shriek. that is not em i knew immediately. it felt like it was screaming in fear like id startled it awake. as the high pitched shriek continued another figure that i had not noticed rose up from the end of my bed and began to shriek as well.