#weeding fluff

[lazycats-stuff]

Depois de ver sua última postagem do ra's, tive que vir fazer esse pedido.

Leitor tendo a idade de Dick e sendo filho biológico de Bruce, Ra's e ele têm um relacionamento e estão prestes a se casar.

(no dia do casamento temos a liga da justiça e os bandidos presentes, você decide como continuar, por favor tenha um momento fofo entre pai e filho)

Okay, here is a translation for everyone (including me) who don't speak Portuguese:

After seeing your last post from ra's, I had to come make this request. Reader being Dick's age and being Bruce's biological son, Ra's and he have a relationship and are about to get married. (on the wedding day we have the justice league and the bad guys present, it's up to you how to proceed, please have a cute moment between father and son)

Summary: (Y/N) is getting married to Ra's. Bruce is not sure how to proceed.

Warnings: everyone put their own differences aside for our couple, Bruce is proud and emotional, fluff, wedding fluff, (Y/N)'s mom is not Talia, emotional family, mentions of the Light.

Bruce was still in shock. Even days later after being told the biggest news in his life right now. It has been a normal dinner with Ra's and (Y/N). The two have been together for about 3 years now and even though everyone was skeptic of the relationship at first, later they saw how (Y/N) was being treated.

Somehow, Bruce has felt at ease, but there is always that underlaying feeling of fear for his son being manipulated, but he didn't let his son or anyone else see it. (Y/N) is happy, Ra's is happy with is son and treats him like he is royalty.

When (Y/N) moved out of the manor to live with Ra's, Bruce had to admit, it was difficult. (Y/N) has moved to a whole another side of the world and Bruce was sad, but it was (Y/N)'s life and he is an adult. And Bruce has made sure that the manor is always a place where (Y/N) can come back.

There would be no judgement if something is to happen with (Y/N)'s and Ra's relationship. Bruce has threatened Ra's that if he hurt (Y/N) in any way, shape or form, Bruce would go after Ra's big time and would destroy everything that Ra's has built.

Ra's has promised Bruce that he genuinely loves (Y/N) and would never do something to hurt him intentionally or unintentionally.

Bruce knows that Ra's doesn't lie and that he is a man of his word, but there is always that fear in back of Bruce's mind. He knows Ra's very well and is aware of everything he has done.

(Y/N) and Bruce have been talking about the changes on the phone during their talks on the phones whenever they managed, but it was at least once a day. (Y/N), as much as he loved his suit and his vigilante identity, he has decided to retire it for now.

And as much as it pained Bruce to hear it, again, this is (Y/N)'s life and he can do what he wants. At first, Bruce thought that Ra's forced him to retire it, but (Y/N) and Ra's quickly shut down the idea of being forced.

Bruce could only sigh quietly in relief.

But one thing that he didn't expect to hear from his son was 'Ra's proposed to me.' That made Bruce head spin and he swore that everything went blank for a moment.

Then he passed out cold after standing up. There were shouts of his name and he was promptly hauled onto the couch, Alfred putting a cold towel in his head. He suspected that his blood pressure that just went down.

Bruce came to after 5 minutes and he gave his son a hug. He will swear and claim until the day he dies that it was from shock and not from anything else. Pure shock. And it takes a lot to get Bruce to pass out from shock and just to shock him in general.

Ra's, as much as he was concerned for Bruce as his father in law, he wanted to laugh. But then he realized that the others would go after him big time and (Y/N) would be mad at him.

Bruce and Ra's don't talk about it at all. Even when Bruce was with his son in (Y/N)'s room. It was nerve wracking for (Y/N), who never thought that he would ever get married. Especially in front of the League of Light too, but everyone came as civilians.

They have agreed to keep things civil for Ra's and (Y/N).

And once the wedding is over, they are going to go back to fighting once more. Bruce watched as (Y/N) paced, nervous in his white tuxedo.

" Bruce, I'm so nervous. " (Y/N) said, rubbing his face.

" What is there to be nervous about? I know you love him and that he loves you. " Bruce said and (Y/N) chuckled, shaking his head.

" I love him Bruce. There is no doubt about it. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't love him. " (Y/N) said and sat on the bed next to Bruce.

" You know what you didn't tell me? " Bruce prompted as he put an arm around (Y/N)'s shoulders.

" What would that be? "

" It would be how he proposed to you. I passed out when you told me and then we didn't talk about the proposal, we talked about the wedding preparations here. I still can't believe that the Light is in my garden. " Bruce grumbled and (Y/N) chuckled quietly.

" All right, I will tell you the story now. " (Y/N) said, adjusting himself in his old room. It felt very weird to be back here after moving to live with Ra's.

" He came to Gotham and we went to my favorite restaurant. " (Y/N) started, sighing quietly and dream like. He leaned on Bruce and Bruce happily allowed it.

" Then he took me to Paris, you always know I wanted to visit. And in a VIP booth of the restaurant we were in, he started telling him I'm the best thing that has ever happened to him and then he got down on one knee and popped the question. I cried for 10 minutes. " (Y/N) said and Bruce snorted.

" I didn't think you were such a sappy person. " Bruce joked and (Y/N) tried to get away from him in mock hurt, but Bruce hugged him tightly. " I'm just kidding son. "

" You better. " (Y/N) said and Bruce smiled.

" You know, I never thought that you would be getting married. " Bruce said, giving (Y/N) a soft kiss to the head. " Especially not to Ra's. "

" Way to ruin the moment B. " (Y/N) said, patting his dad on the arm to let him go.

" Are you ready to go? " Bruce said and (Y/N) nodded. Was he really ready? He had enough anxiety for at least 3 people so that would probably not be a yes, but a no.

" Just relax. Once you exchange vows and you have your first dance, you will want to get out of here. "

(Y/N) just raised his brow in question. " And you know that how? " (Y/N) asked as Bruce lead him through the familiar halls.

" A good friend told me. Now, put a ring on him and go to your honey moon. Where are you going? Bahamas, Maldives... " Bruce started, trying to coax an answer.

" Actually, we are going to Switzerland. He has a cabin there and it has just snowed. "

" So you, Ra's and the woods? " Bruce asked, crinkling his noes together. (Y/N) smacked Bruce's arm at the implication.

" Stop it. " (Y/N) warned with a warm smile, no anger in his voice or face. Just pure amusement.

" You know I'm kidding. Now, lets get this show on the road. " Bruce said, adjusting his grip on (Y/N). Bruce still didn't believe that he would give him away, as if he was a bride, to Ra's.

(Y/N) took a deep breath when the music started. Bruce didn't show any type of anxiety, but he was... He does not really feel like he can do this calmly.

The ceremony went without a single hitch. A single one. Bruce and the rest of the guests have shed some tears when the vows were being exchanged. These two really love one another. Bruce wiped his eyes quickly and hugged Damian from the side. Damian was quietly crying from the emotions he felt.

Damian has never felt those emotions. Ever in his life. Jason, Dick and Tim weren't doing any better. Dick was on the verge of wailing and Jason was just trying not to cry. Tim was crying quietly in his seat. He was huffing quietly and everyone clapped when the two shared a kiss.

They had their first dance outside on the stage outside in the garden. The two were surrounded by gentle light, dancing to their song. Bruce had to hide inside after the dance to compose himself. After he got some composure back, he went outside to the garden.

He watched the villains as they mingled through the crowd. Bruce knows for a fact that they all want to hurt one another, but it is nice to see that they can all be civil for once.

Especially when they all knew each others identities. The reason why they don't even try to kill one another is because there is the factor of revenge. You do something to the kids, you can expect the world to be burned to the ground.

And if you go after the parents too, the kids are going to burn the world for them. Same would go for the villains and their kids too.

In conclusion, the world would burn.

Bruce had to admit it was all nice to see. There are no plans to destroy something, nothing to send a message or just hurt anyone. Just people having fun and celebrating love.

" Hey dad. " (Y/N) greeted as he sat down next to his father outside in the garden. Everyone moved inside to continue celebrating, but Bruce needed some air. And evidently so did (Y/N).

" You left Ra's already? " Bruce teased and (Y/N) snorted at the statement.

" No. I left him to deal with everyone talking. I have hit my social limit. Ra's is thankfully an extrovert who can do it for hours on end. " (Y/N) said and Bruce had to nod at that.

" I still can't believe you got married. " Bruce said, looking at his son in his white tuxedo. He appeared relaxed and happy, despite being surrounded by a lot of people, both heroes and villains.

" I know. I'm more shocked by the fact that everyone is civil tonight. " (Y/N) noted and Bruce had to admit, it is shocking. But as long there is no trouble, it will all go smooth.

" I want to thank you. For allowing us to have the ceremony and reception here. " (Y/N) said and Bruce hugged him tightly.

" No need to thank me. I will do it for every one of you. Expect for maybe Damian. I love him, but I don't think that he will open his mind to love. " Bruce said, resting his head on top of (Y/N)'s.

" Never say never B. Give him time. " (Y/N) mumbled and Bruce nodded. He looked over to the entrance where Ra's was standing, watching the scene. (Y/N) turned in Bruce's arms, smiling at Ra's, his husband.

Still a weird thing to say.

" I don't mean to intrude, but we have to go to our honeymoon. " Ra's said and Bruce let go.

" I will walk you both out. " Bruce said and led the duo through the house to the front entrance. The other boys followed too and Alfred also decided to see his grandson off.

" Now, I want weekly phone calls and dinners at least every 3 months. Ra's is invited too. " Bruce said as he hugged his son and shook hands with Ra's.

" You know the drill, something happens to (Y/N), Alfred is going after you. " Bruce said and Ra's nodded. (Y/N) said goodbye to his brothers and Alfred with hugs and promises of communication often. After the goodbyes, Ra's and (Y/N) got into the car and left.

Bruce brought his sons and Alfred into a hug when the left. Everyone teared up to a certain degree.

" I can't believe he grew up. " Dick said, tears flowing.

" I can't believe I don't have my partner in crime anymore. " Jason said, wiping his eyes every second.

" I can't believe he is... No. He is not grown up. " Tim declared.

" I can't believe that he is marrying my grandfather. " Damian declared with some amusement in his voice and everyone laughed.

" And I can't believe that (Y/N) grew up in front of my eyes. " Alfred concluded the circle and now everyone officially teared up at this thought.

" Now, get some composure and then we are going to escort the guests and then we are going to break down. " Alfred said, wiping his eyes.

There was a chorus of yups and yesses. Damian yawned and couldn't even stand at this point.

" Dick, I need you to carry me to my room. " Damian said and Dick nodded.

" I don't know if I can sleep when (Y/N) isn't officially here anymore. " Jason has admitted and an unspoken sleepover arranged.

" My room, 10 minutes? " Dick said, putting Damian over his shoulder as if he was a sack of potatoes.

" Yup." Was the unanimous answer.

" Master Bruce, I will need some assistance. I need someone who can take those villains on. I feel like I'm going to get my ass kicked. " Alfred said as he turned to walk back to the house.

The others followed too and Bruce stayed for a few moments. It will be difficult to adjust to (Y/N)'s absence, but they will manage. If (Y/N) doesn't call weekly, he will have to resort to kidnapping him back home.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #ra's al ghul x male reader #fluff #weeding fluff

[mcdynamite]

Kissing has never done all that much for Steve, if he’s honest.

It's just not really something he's ever given much thought to before - the way someone kisses - despite the fact that he's locked lips with plenty of people. For him, kissing has always been something nice, but not particularly special. It's never been earth-shattering. Never taken his breath away, the way people talk about in movies and books. It's just a way to be closer to someone, and it's nice, but it's never anything more than that.

Then, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time, and suddenly he gets it.

They're high when it happens, laying side by side in Eddie's unmade bed while the weed sinks into their bones. Steve loves the way it seems to slow down the world around them - makes everything syrupy and sweet, so he feels every brush of Eddie's fingers against his own in every inch of his body as they pass the joint back and forth.

The casual contact makes him long for more, and when he's high, Steve just...gives into the longing. He lets himself drift closer until they're pressed together so closely that Eddie can hide his face in Steve's uncharacteristically messy hair when he's trying to cover up a snort of laughter in response to Steve's deranged weed-induced musings.

Tonight, they meander their way through a directionless conversation - as they so often do when they get high together - until the joint is so small it nearly singes their fingertips. When Eddie finally sits up to stamp it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, Steve tries not to miss the feeling of Eddie's body against his own too much, knowing it'll be back soon enough.

"I'm thinking of handing over the DM throne to Will for the next oneshot, after we finish this campaign," Eddie says, speech slow and thoughtful as he puts out the blunt. "Think he'll be good at it."

Steve just hums, eyes heavy-lidded, gaze fixed on the curls he wants so badly to run his fingers through, just to know what it feels like. He's high enough to not care about the consequences when he decides fuck it, and reaches out to feel the soft ringlets beneath his fingertips.

"You're good at it," he muses - a delayed response to Eddie's comment. If Eddie is bothered by the way Steve is carefully petting his hair, he doesn't show it. Instead, he turns back to look down at Steve with a soft smile that makes Steve's insides feel all gooey.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, a hint of a smirk overtaking the softness. "You ready to admit that you like watching me play my little nerd game, Harrington?"

Steve blames the quiet whine that escapes his throat on the weed, along with the way he honest-to-God pouts in response to Eddie's words. He tugs on a lock of Eddie's hair petulantly. "Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie's face does something strange then, and Steve can't quite parse out what it means with the weed making his brain all foggy. He looks...surprised? Fond? Maybe both?

"Sorry, Stevie," he replies, teasing but somehow genuine at the same time. Steve smiles dopily, an expression that Eddie returns. "That better?"

Satisfied, Steve nods. Hums in affirmation. "Yeah. I like that one."

And it's true. Steve loves when Eddie calls him Stevie, because Eddie always sounds so fond when he does, and it makes Steve's heart feel too big for his chest.

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, still grinning as he leans down until he's propped up on one elbow, hovering just over Steve on the bed. "What else do you want me to call you, hm? Stevie? Steve? M'lord?"

The last one makes Steve laugh and close his eyes, happy to bask in the sound of Eddie's voice as he floats along with their conversation.

"Sir Steven? Sweetheart?" Eddie continues, and Steve's heart jumps just a bit at the second one. Then, Eddie murmurs, "Baby?" 

And Steve's eyes fly open.

Steve stares at his friend with wide eyes - lips parted as a soft, punched-out oh escapes him - and it's weird, is the thing. Because Steve has been called baby before, lovingly by his grandmother when he was still a little boy causing mischief while his parents weren't watching, meanly by boys on the playground when he cried over something silly like a scraped knee…and when he got older, teasingly by the girls he took on dates.

It's not a new name for him, but it feels groundbreaking nonetheless.

Because the word sounds so much better coming from Eddie's mouth than anyone else's. It's soft, and fond, and knowing, and...

It's longing.

"Yeah,” Steve croaks. "Yeah."

"Which one? Sir Steven?" Eddie asks playfully, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. He grins maniacally when Steve huffs and shakes his head in disappointment. "No? Which one was it, then, that you liked the most?"

"Eddieeee," Steve complains, burying his flushed face into the pillow and avoiding his friend's gaze. "You know which one."

Eddie shakes his head in an almost scolding manner and Steve is convinced he must've moved closer, because Steve can feel Eddie's breath against his skin, and the air in the room feels about a hundred degrees hotter.

"Nuh-uh, Stevie," Eddie says, poking him playfully in the ribs. "You gotta tell me which one."

Steve hesitates, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second. He sort of wants to hide, but he also really wants Eddie to call him that again. It's probably thanks to his intoxicated brain that he allows himself to answer truthfully. "Baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically shy.

"Yeah?" Eddie says, voice and smile softening in tandem. "You like when I call you baby, Stevie?"

Steve stares up at him with wide eyes, hardly able to believe this is really happening, and nods. "Yeah. That one."

Eddie is so close, now, that Steve can feel the warmth that emanates from his skin; can see the flecks of gold in his eyes amongst the molten chocolate brown. He's got freckles - Steve realizes. Tiny little dots across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks that form constellations on his skin. Steve thinks, maybe a bit deliriously, that he would be perfectly happy spending hours tracing them, the way astronomers of old once traced the stars.

"Eddie..." he breathes, heart pounding as he begins to feel more and more desperate for...for something. Anything to let him know that he's not the only one succumbing to the gravitational pull between them.

Eddie blinks slowly, and his eyes widen as though he's just realized something important. Steve watches his throat bob nervously before Eddie finally whispers, "Yeah, baby?"

Steve inhales sharply through parted lips - a soft, plaintive gasp that draws Eddie's eyes to his lips, and-

Oh.

That's what Steve wants, isn't it?

"I-" Steve tries, helpless to stop his own gaze from falling on Eddie's lips - pink and parted and just a little bit chapped, and so, so close.

"Baby," Eddie says again, and this time it's different. Unintentional. Like Eddie said it without meaning to. And maybe it's just the weed, but Steve swears he can feel the word burrowing its way into his chest and settling around his heart like a blanket. It makes his whole body feel warm - something only made worse by the hot coal of desire that begins smoldering low in his gut.

He's so lost in it all that he can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed when he whispers, "Please."

Steve waits with bated breath until finally, any remaining nervousness retreats from Eddie's eyes, and Eddie smiles in that way that makes Steve's stomach flutter. It's such a pretty smile. Steve can only watch as it grows closer, going cross-eyed for the briefest moment in his quest to to stare at Eddie's lips until suddenly his eyes are fluttering shut, because...because...

Because Eddie kisses him with lips still curled into a smile, and Steve thinks - utterly nonsensically - that feeling Eddie's lips against his own is so much better than just looking at them. The thought makes him giggle, just a bit, and he finds himself grinning into the kiss, too.

They part for a moment so Steve can let out another quiet giggle, and Eddie seems to pause for a moment, smiling down at Steve with poorly concealed affection. "Baby," he murmurs reverently, and then he's leaning down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss.

This time, Steve is ready for it, but it draws a muffled whimper out of him nonetheless. His nose fills with the scent of weed and cigarettes and cheap cologne - the smell of Eddie - and it's so overwhelmingly good. He lets his lips fall open on a gasp...doesn't close them when Eddie tentatively brushes his tongue against Steve's own. He shuts his eyes, because the press of Eddie's hand to his cheek and Eddie's chest to his own feel like so much more like that.

Eddie breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath, and inexplicably, that's what really sends every last bit of restraint in Steve's brain packing. It's so simple, so ordinary - the soft, quick sip of air Eddie takes in. It's a breathy little sound that Steve has heard from countless others before, but maybe that's why it puts him in this unfamiliar chokehold of wanting.

This isn't just anyone.

This is Eddie.

And Eddie is making those quiet, lovely little sounds because he's kissing Steve, and Steve is very rapidly realizing that he is utterly incapable of being normal about any of this.

He feels his cheeks go hot as he forces his heavy limbs to move so he can tangle his fingers in Eddie's curls, holding him close (because Steve thinks he might die if Eddie stops kissing him, now). And it's bliss. It's addictive. It's ruinously tender, and Steve feels himself unraveling from within. Feels the knots in his heart - left behind by absent parents, cruel friends, and distant girlfriends - turn to dust at the gentlest brush of Eddie's lips.

He whimpers into Eddie's mouth and clings to him even tighter, feeling his throat grow strangely tight as his eyes sting at the corners, and when Eddie pulls away he's got a small furrow in his brow, just under his bangs. 

"Stevie?" Eddie murmurs. His eyes dart to Steve's cheeks, and when he brushes his thumb along the skin just under Steve's eye, it drags a bit of wetness with it. Only then does Steve realize...he's crying.

And Eddie is wiping away his tears.

"I..." Steve croaks, eyes wide and spilling more tears with every blink. He drags his hands down from Eddie's hair to rest on his chest, beginning to curl into himself as the embarrassment sinks in.

Christ, he's crying. And all they've done is kiss.

Eddie's frown deepens, but he doesn't pull away completely. Instead, he lets their noses brush and breathes, "Baby..."

Steve's breath hitches.

"You're shaking, sweetheart," Eddie continues, still brushing Steve's tears away with gentle fingers. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Steve gasps hurriedly, because as far as he understands, it's the truth. "Nothing's wrong, I just..." He closes his eyes. Swallows the lump in his throat and admits with a trembling voice, "I didn't know it could be like this."

He opens his eyes and sees Eddie's expression soften, but the concern remains. "What do you mean?"

"I just..." Steve tries, sniffling and letting out a quiet, distressed laugh. He slams his eyes shut again and rubs them roughly with his palms, trying to force the tears back into his body. "Jesus, this is fucking embarrassing, man."

"Steve..." Eddie murmurs. He sounds sad. Conflicted. Like he's not sure what to do or how to help - if he should stay or go - and that just won't do, because Steve is certain he'll drift away on the breeze without Eddie to ground him. He's got to try to explain, even with his thoughts still feeling syrupy slow from the weed.

He wants to tell Eddie that he's kissed dozens of people before, but kissing them never felt like this. He wants to explain that he's used to taking the lead, and that it's nice having someone else set the pace, for once. He wants to tell Eddie about the way most people he's kissed have done so - frantically...lustfully. Kissing has always been a simple means to an end. And it's never made Steve feel like this.

What he actually manages to say is slightly different, though.

"No one's ever kissed me like they love me, before."

His eyes are still covered by his own hands, so he can't see what is surely a stunned expression on Eddie's face, but he can hear the way Eddie gasps in response to Steve's words.

It’s too much, he thinks. He's said too much, fast-forwarded too far into the movie. It's too early to be talking about love. Steve knows this. It's just...

His stupid, floaty little brain can't envision a world where someone kisses the way Eddie does without being hopelessly, irrevocably in love.

"Shit," Steve breathes after several minutes of silence. Or maybe it's several seconds. He really doesn't know. Time feels funny, when he's high. "I know that's, like, way too much. I'm too much. I don't know why I-"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts, and Steve snaps his mouth shut. He feels Eddie's hands wrap carefully around his wrists to pull them from his eyes. Eddie is being so careful with him...like he can't see that his tenderness is exactly the thing that’s ripping Steve apart at the seams.

Steve wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to drag Eddie back down and kiss him until he can't breathe. Until Eddie's sweetness becomes warm and comforting instead of feeling like the scalding heat of jumping into a hot tub after a dip in the cold waters of the pool.

"Baby, look at me," Eddie says softly.

Steve is helpless but to obey.

Eddie's gaze is sad but kind when Steve finally meets it with his own. He's got the barest hint of a smile on his pretty lips - the same ones Steve so desperately wants to feel against his own, again - and Steve feels his stomach swirl with something he can't quite describe.

"It's not too much," Eddie continues, voice steady. "And neither are you, okay? You, Steve Harrington, are never too much. Not to me."

The words settle over Steve like a blanket, and he can't decide whether it's comforting or suffocating. He just wants to stop talking about things so they can move on. He just wants Eddie.

"Eds..." he rasps desperately. "I don't- I just want-" He cuts himself off with the hitching breath of what may be a sob. He's not really sure, at this point.

"What can I do, honey?" Eddie says, and he really needs to stop with the pet names, or Steve might genuinely fracture into pieces. "What do you want?"

Steve is sunk too deep into the syrupy slow feeling of the weed - too desperate to feel Eddie pressed against him again - to do anything but tell the truth.

"Just want you," he says.

Eddie smiles - eyes crinkling at the corners - and Steve breathes the sight in like oxygen. "You have me, baby," Eddie murmurs. He's rubbing small, comforting circle into the sensitive skin of Steve's wrists now, and it's perfect. It's wonderfully, disgustingly perfect.

"I do?" Steve asks dumbly. His brain feels fifteen seconds behind everything, but he thinks that's probably okay. Eddie seems to be just fine waiting for him to catch up.

"Yeah, Stevie," Eddie chuckles quietly. "Had me for a long time, now. Just wasn't sure if you would want me the way I wanted you."

"You want me," Steve says breathlessly, more to himself than to Eddie. "You wanna kiss me."

Eddie's resulting laugh is a bit louder, a bit brighter, this time. "I do," he says. The sadness is fading from his eyes, giving way to something that looks an awful lot like elation. Steve remains still and watches, entranced, as Eddie carefully hauls himself up until he can swing a leg over Steve's to straddle him.

Still smiling broadly, Eddie leans down until their faces are mere inches apart, studying Steve with those big, brown eyes. "You gonna let me?" he asks Steve, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Steve nods, lips parted in surprise he can't quite seem to shake, and Eddie's expression softens.

"Gonna let me kiss you like I love you, Stevie?" Eddie whispers.

Steve's not sure when, exactly, his tears had begun to dry up, but he knows they must have at some point, because they're returning with a vengeance, now. "Please," he breathes.

Eddie shifts, and Steve expects Eddie to go right back to kissing him, but that's not what he does.

Instead, Eddie releases one of Steve's wrists and cups his cheek tenderly. This time, the feeling of his thumb brushing the tears away is a familiar one, and it makes Steve smile dopily.

"You know the reason I kiss you like I love you?" Eddie asks. Steve shakes his head and tracks Eddie's gaze as it drifts towards the place where his fingers are still wrapped around Steve's wrist. His lips quirk into a smile as he uses his grip to pin Steve's hand to the mattress, right beside Steve's head, and laces their fingers together.

Their noses are brushing, now, and Eddie's hips are resting on Steve's, and Eddie's hair has fallen around them like a curtain to keep the rest of the world out, and it's so much. Eddie is everywhere, and he's everything, and Steve is completely, unquestioningly in love with him - probably has been in love with him for ages, now, and just never let himself think too hard about it.

"I kiss you like I love you, Steve Harrington," Eddie breathes, and their lips brush as he speaks. "Because I love you."

And the thing is…Steve has spent his entire life wondering what it would feel like to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved. It's something that's eluded him for twenty years.

So it's all the more miraculous when Eddie kisses him again, and suddenly, Steve knows. He knows that Eddie Munson loves him. He feels it in the way Eddie kisses him slowly and deliberately, like it would never have crossed Eddie's mind not to. He feels it in their linked hands, in the way Eddie squeezes his hand when Steve makes a desperate, wanton sound into his mouth.

He feels it when Eddie brushes the hair out of his eyes and smiles before kissing Steve's forehead, then his nose, and then his lips again.

Feels it when Eddie's lips begin to wander down his neck.

When Eddie sucks a mark into the thin skin above his collar bone, just because Steve begs him too.

When Eddie pulls Steve's shirt over his head with careful hands, then lets Steve do the same, because Steve needs the intimacy of skin on skin.

He feels it when Eddie stops Steve's wandering hands from venturing too far south with a firm grip and apologetic eyes, because Eddie wants him - of course he does - but not when they've been smoking. Not when there's even the slightest chance that Steve might wake up and regret it in the morning.

And he hears it, too, later that night when they're laying in Eddie's bed exchanging soft, sleepy kisses, unwilling to drift off and let the night end, just yet.

Their legs are woven together - bare, aside from their boxers - and Steve has lost track of how long they've been tangled up in each other like this. He doesn't particularly care, though. He's pretty sure he could happily spend the rest of his life exactly like this.

"Love you, Stevie," Eddie whispers against his lips. They both smile into the next kiss, and Steve's heart is full to bursting, because he believes it. He knows, now, what it feels like to be loved...to be adored.

"I love you," he murmurs in reply, relishing in Eddie's sharp intake of breath. He giggles a bit, for no reason other than the pure joy that's been coursing through his body all night. "God," he laughs. "I fucking love you, Eddie Munson.

Eddie is quiet for a moment before his face splits into a grin that could rival Steve's own, and he's so goddamn beautiful that Steve almost feels like crying again.

He doesn't cry, though. He just watches adoringly as Eddie smiles and nudges Steve's nose with his own. "Yeah, baby?" Eddie teases.

"Yeah, Eds," he answers simply.

And he's pretty sure Eddie knows - is pretty sure Eddie can feel it - because Steve kisses him for the umpteenth time that night, and he pours every ounce of his heart into it. 

Steve kisses Eddie like he loves him, because he does. God, help him, he does.

And Eddie?

Eddie kisses Steve like he loves him back, and Steve gets it now, because it’s more than just a kiss.

It’s perfect.

It’s earth-shattering.

It’s everything.

--

Shout-out to @lyphyshard for the beta!

For more of my Steddie blurbs and one-shots, check out my masterlist!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #soft steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #first kiss #cw: weed #stranger things #i'm so normal about them

[moonstruckme]

i recently started following you and i absolutely love your writing! you have such great talent!

no pressure at all and feel free to scream at me if this is out of your boundaries (i read ur guidelines so it shouldn’t be but you never know). I’m curious if you could write reader with literally anyone, just in denial that they like them. like she used to go out with really shifty guys and is just appalled that this person actually likes them

(this definitely isn’t self-indulgent at all….)

Thanks for requesting baby! (I would never scream at you lmao) I did this with dealer Eddie, hope that's alright :)

cw: weed, mention of transactional sex

dealer!Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Eddie’s grinning big when he opens the door to his trailer. He takes off his headphones, hanging them around his neck. You can hear Black Sabbath still playing from the speakers. 

“Hey.” His voice has a slightly raspy quality to it, and you wonder if he’s been singing or smoking. “You lookin’ for a fix, pretty?” 

You grasp the strap of your bag self-consciously, forcing a bouncy “yep” past your lips. Eddie’s got a way of saying things that makes you feel awkward and flighty, like your heart might lurch right out of your ribcage at any moment. It should be routine by now, but you’ll probably never get over it. 

Eddie only nods and opens the door further, inviting you in. He sets a hand on your back as you go by, and you try not to look as shy as the touch makes you feel. 

“Same as usual?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You lean against the counter while he crosses the room to the drawer where he keeps his stash. 

You’ve been coming to Eddie for years now. You weren’t exactly friends in high school but you were always friendly, and every time you leave his place you’re freshly shocked by the realization that you actually really like him. You appreciate that he keeps it business. Well, as business as anything can be with Eddie. Flirting is just part of the package, but he doesn’t try to smoke your stuff after he sells it to you and doesn’t seem to expect anything other than money in return. Shitty as it sounds, a dealer like that can be hard to come by in your experience.

“I’ve been missing you, sweet thing,” he says, taking out a big zip lock bag of bud and a smaller one to portion yours into. “Thought you might’ve found someone else to keep you happy.” 

You don’t respond for a second, and Eddie’s head tilts up from where he’s picking through the bag, eyebrows going up in intrigue.

“I was seeing this guy for awhile,” you say, looking sideways out the window. “He got pre-rolls from someone else, and he’d let me have them sometimes.” 

“Well shit, I can roll for you if it’ll keep you coming over.” 

You look at Eddie in surprise. He grins at you, jutting his chin towards the couch. 

“Sit down, I’ll get you set up.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” you say. 

“Gotta keep my favorite customer happy, don’t I?” You don’t move, and his smile softens into something more genuine. “It’s no problem, just sit down. Tell me about this guy. Does he treat you right?” 

You follow directions, going to sit on the less saggy and dingy-looking of the couch cushions while Eddie bends over the counter across from you. “Not really,” you say indifferently. As if thinking about it doesn’t send a dull ache blooming through your middle. “We aren’t together anymore.” 

Eddie glances up at you, something odd flitting across his expression. “That sucks,” he says bluntly. “I’m sorry. I mean, it sounds like he sucked, so I guess I’m not sorry that it’s over even if I’m sorry that you’re sad. Are you sad?” 

A little laugh startles out of you. “Not really,” you say, and it’s halfway to honest. You’d been sad to break up with him, but Eddie is right; he sucked. You’re not really sad it’s over either. 

“Good.” He nods, appeased. “Thought I’d have to go beat someone up or something.” 

You snort, and Eddie’s mouth drops open in offense. He looks back down at the roll, sticking his tongue in his cheek as he shakes his head.

“Feels like you’re not taking my threat of vengeance super seriously.” 

“No, I am,” you laugh. “I am, it’s just—you don’t seem like someone who wins a ton of fights.” 

“Ah!” He clutches a fist over his heart, looking at you in absolute betrayal. “So little faith! I’ve fought worse monsters than your jilted beaux, okay?” 

You roll your eyes. “I’m guessing it’s a little different in real life than in your game.” 

Eddie pauses for a half a second, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far in your teasing, but then he bends back over the table, bringing the paper to his mouth. “Right.” He runs his tongue quickly across the roll. “Well, anyway, I have a spear in my garage if you want me to give it a try.” 

You smile at the thought of Eddie jabbing his (in your imagination, plastic and nerdy) spear at your most recent ex. 

“Thanks, but I think I’m good,” you say. 

He shrugs. “Your loss. I’d have taken off my shirt for the battle, but I guess you’ll have to get that show another time.” 

You laugh, crossing your legs as he starts on another roll. “Hey, you don’t actually have to roll all this,” you say. “I won’t stop coming to you.” 

“I don’t mind it,” he replies, packing the next with easy, practiced movements. “Unless you’re in a rush or something. Do you have to go?” 

“No, I’m…I’m good.” You’ve never spent this long at Eddie’s place before. It’s usually that you show up, he gives you a bag, you pay, and you leave. You’ve never taken much time to survey the trailer, the way Eddie moves around the cramped furniture with such ease or the way the windows let in just enough light to make his skin look softer and his eyes browner. “You can leave half of it, though, if that’s okay. I’ve still got a bowl at home.” 

“Whatever you want.” He keeps his focus downward, ringed fingers moving carefully. “You know, I’ve actually kind of missed having you come around.” 

“You said that already.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, smiling even though he’s not looking. “I told you I’ll keep coming back, Eddie, you don’t have to butter me up.” 

His gaze flicks to you, eyebrows rising on his forehead. “I’m not,” he says.

Something about his tone has the hairs raising on the back of your neck. You keep intentionally still as a slight chill goes through you. 

“I like hanging out with you.” He shrugs, looking back at his roll. “Would you want to hang out again soon?” 

You hesitate. “I…don’t think I’ll be needing any more for a bit.” 

“Well, ideally you wouldn’t be here to buy.” 

For a second, you’re confused, and then realization and dread collide in your gut with enough force to make you nauseous. The disappointment is more potent than either of them. 

“Oh.” Maybe Eddie isn’t so different from the other dealers you’ve had after all. “Um, I just feel like I’ve always paid in cash…” 

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and then his entire face contorts. “Christ—no.” He drops the finished roll, holding up his palms as if to ward you off. “Not that! Ew—I mean—” His hands go to his head. “—not ew, like you’re not ew, I just—gah.” He drops his head back, and his fingers disappear into his hair, making fists. He looks almost pained. “I like you. Like, I’m not trying to have sex with you right now. Not that sex wouldn’t be cool—we could if you wanted to—but that’s not what I’m getting at.” 

He blows out a big breath, hands dropping to his knees, and looks you in the eye. 

“Can we just forget about the weed for a second?” he asks, sounding nearly desperate. “I’m trying to ask you on a date. Not to get you to fuck me for drugs.” Your mouth drops open, but Eddie keeps going. “And if you don’t want to go out, that’s totally cool. Very respectable, honestly. It doesn’t have to affect anything.” He presses his lips together. “I didn’t mean to say you were ew. I’m sorry.” 

You’re too shell-shocked to even laugh. You have whiplash. But now he’s looking at you with his big eyes all expectant, and you feel like you have to say something. 

“A date?” you ask. 

“Uh, yeah.” He leans against the counter, looking a bit awkward but somehow all the more endearing for it. “Like, to the arcade or maybe dairy queen or something—I don’t know, you can pick.” 

“And you…don’t want to have sex.” 

“I don’t not want to have sex,” he clarifies. “But, uh, we don’t have to at all. Like, only if you want to, and definitely not if you think it’s some sort of…” Eddie winces “...transaction.” 

You nod slowly, and now there’s a smile tugging persistently at your lips. “That sounds good,” you say. “The date part.” 

“Yeah?” His head picks up. “Really?”

You smile. “Yeah. Are you sure?” 

“Am I sure?” Eddie guffaws. “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure. I’m getting a much better deal here. But no take-backs,” he says quickly, and his grin widens when you laugh. “Are you free tomorrow?” 

“Um, yeah.” You think for a second, nodding. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing tomorrow.” 

“Great.” Eddie presses his lips together like he’s trying to contain the full scope of his smile. He pushes his fingers into the countertop. “Okay, forget everything from today. I’m gonna be such a fucking gentleman when I pick you up tomorrow, you probably won’t even recognize me.”

#dealer!eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x self insert #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #stranger things s4 #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fandom #stranger things x reader #tw drugs #tw weed

[inkyray]

lazy messy high sex w virgin!reader or bestfriends w chris lol im so high rn so idk if anything im sayin makes sense lol have a gday

2.8k words

a/n: yall rlly fw the virgin bsf trope w chris huh, well you ask so i give!! here yall go enjoy, keep sending requests, do not be shyyy

warnings/content ahead: drug use, weed, mentions of alcohol, high sex, smut, straddling so like cowgirl??, oral male!receiving, virgin!reader(again) x bsf!chris(again), wrote this in literally one sitting so beware for the possibility of it being fast-paced and a bunch of mistakes

NORMAL?

You were confusing to say the least. Everyone knew that every once and a while you liked to get high out of your fucking brain on weed and shrooms. Yet, they knew you were a virgin, which was an interesting combo.

It wasn't the vibe you gave off, in fact, it was the opposite. You were confident with a high sex appeal. People knew because you were open about it, never understanding the whole concept with feeling shameful about keeping your virginity.

That didn't mean you were completely pure, though. Although you have kept your virginity, you had still admitted to giving multiple blowjobs and handjobs, so you weren't completely inexperienced.

You were at home practically doing nothing when you got a message from your best friend, telling you to come over and bring some pre-rolled blunts. You almost jumped at the message.

Putting his ego and sex life aside, if someone were to ask you, you would call Chris a goody-goody, which would really piss him off. In your 10 years of knowing the kid, he'd refuse to do any drugs or alcohol. He was open with the fact he didn't want to consume anything that would alter his brain chemistry. You couldn't do anything but respect him, still offering him some every once and a while.

In that sense, you two were opposites. He was always banging some new girl while you were doing pot with the rappers of LA. But in every other aspect, you two were identical. People, even his triplet brothers, would point out how you were like a female version of him, and how it made sense that you two were so close.

You were practically thrilled Chris had requested such a thing, your mind racing at all the possibilities as to why he'd ask you to bring your stash.

Standing in front of his house, you search for your gifted spare key, opening the place up and announcing that you were here. You had to keep yourself from skipping through his house in pure utter excitement.

You freeze at the sight of Chris in his kitchen, fully expecting him to be in his room. Quickly, you throw him the plastic bag of pre-rolled blunts and joints. The same second Chris registered you here was the same second he caught the plastic bag of weed, catching it with one arm.

"Drive safely here?" He questions, opening the plastic bag. You grin, imagining how high Chris could get, how'd he be. "I didn't drive high, don't worry. I was waiting until I got here." You seat yourself on the kitchen island's stool, leaning yourself against the table as you watch him sniff the bag.

"Mm. Good." He hummed, his face expressionless. You immediately furrowed your eyebrows. "What's wrong?" You ask the moment you felt his vibe was off. He looked up at you, he was great at expressing his positive emotions, his negative ones? Not so much.

"A bunch of bullshit on the internet. People love to wake up and act all fucking dumb." He mutters, throwing the bag against the table, sliding it toward you. "Chris, how many time do I need to fucking tell you." You sigh, taking out a roll and your lighter.

"'Don't take that shit seriously.' Yeah, I fucking know. It's just hard when it's constantly in your face." His tone is aggressive and louder. You take a moment before asking, "Is that why you told me to bring these?" You gesture to the weed.

Chris nods, "Yeah. Before I fucking punch someone." He goes on to tell you about how Nick and Matt left to go do some influencer shit you didn't understand, seeing how the internet had gotten him so hostile, insisting it'd be good if they left him alone for a few hours. "They shouldn't be back until a long fucking while."

You smile, "Should be enough time for us to get high and out of this fucking world, am I right?" You hold up a fist for him to bump. He just stares at it. "Just light the fucking blunt." He groans. You grumble, "Come on Chris, seriously? You gonna leave me hanging?"

He sighs, fist bumping you. You then fist bump the air in victory, quickly going to light the blunts. You bring your roll immediately to your lips, watching Chris as you hesitantly hold his up. You huff the smoke out of your nose. "Are you sure, Chris?"

"I'm sure." He blows in, you watch as the paper burns as air gets sucked out of it. His puffing interrupted by a cough, smoke forcefully leaving his mouth as he coughs it all up. "Don't worry," you say "this is normal for your first time, try holding it in?" You suggest.

He glares at you. "What? I'm not the one who made you cough, tough guy." You shrug.

He holds it back up to his lips, looking at you the entire time as he sucks in softer this time. He manages to hold the smoke in and blow it back out, leaving both his nose and mouth. "Mmm." You buzzed, smoking from your roll. "Good boy." You sang as he blew some of the smoke at your face. You scrunched up your nose, laughing.

"I also brought my bong, by the way."

-

Your back was slumped flatly against his kitchen table, you hadn't bothered to leave his kitchen since you stepped in there.

You watched as smoke painted abstract lines across his ceiling, the light so bright it had your blinking hurt. Chris felt his mind pooling out of his ears as he sat on his couch in the living room, holding onto your bong.

"Should've brought the shrooms." He utters, finishing his blunt. Chris lost count of which one this was. You laughed slowly, "Slow down, druggie."

He turned his head, examining you laying on his kitchen table, "Hm, you comfortable?" You shake your head. "Not at all."

"Then come sit next to me, dumbass." He huffed, you slouched yourself off his kitchen table, feeling the cramp on your back beginning to form. You stretched quickly before plopping yourself beside him.

"You fuck with it?" You ask him, he turns to look at you, glassy blue eyes rimmed with red. It only makes you wonder what you look like. Your brain feels hot, and you direct it to his lips. You watch as he's about to puff some fog out, but quickly sucks it back in mouth and blows it out of his nose. "Heavy." He answers you, his voice a tone louder than a whisper.

He manspreads through his baggy black sweatpants as you sigh. "If I could go back in time to when I first got high like this, I would."

Chris nods slowly. "Like, try something new?" He questions, his voice more hoarse than when you got here.

"Yeah. New and addictive, as fucked up as it sounds. I don't want to regret it. Sort of like the same thing you're doing right now." You pat down the surface of your blunt on an ashtray, getting rid of accumulated ash.

It's a comfortable silence for a moment. There's not really much to say when you could barely feel your mind in your head.

"I have an idea in mind, but you're not gonna like it."

You're immediately intrigued, turning to look at him, raising a weak eyebrow. "Let's be honest, I'll probably fucking like it."

He hums, his voice purring in some sort of acknowledgement. "Let me fuck you?" He gets straight to the point, and you can't even say you're surprised. You back yourself away from him for a moment, taking him all in. You'd be the earth's biggest liar if you said you wouldn't take him right then and there.

"You'd be comfortable with that?" You draw out, watching his pink lips begin to form a response. "You're the virgin here, I should be the one asking you that."

He's right. You raise your gaze back to him. He blinks slowly at you, hair falling perfectly on his forehead as pieces continue to messily look longer than the others. His necklace glimmering lightly under the dimly lit living room as he looks at you lazily through his eyelashes. "I don't think there's any other time I'd like to lose my virginity than right now." You admit.

His smirk grows as he pats his lap. "Come here." You looked at him as you crawled onto his lap, straddling him as he put his blunt out. Sitting on him, his gaze darted everywhere on you, following from your eyes to the slope of your neck, melting to your chest.

"Don't be awkward." He ordered, grabbing the side of your face as he kissed your soft mouth. You kissed him back, your mind immediately going blank as he pulled away. "Already?" You whined before shutting up immediately. He kisses the curve of your jaw, trailing down your neck, giving you sloppy wet neck kisses, leaving your skin glistening with a layer of his spit, unknowingly grinding into his growing erection.

Without a question, he lifts your shirt off of you, you place it off to the side as he looks up at your red eyes. Tugging out your bra, he asks "Can I take this off you?"

You slip your hand into his pants, snapping at the elastic of his boxers. "Only if I take this off you." He grins, "We're getting there, baby." His voice low and jagged from everything he's been smoking, you feel yourself getting wetter, deciding to be the one who dives in for this kiss.

Without really meaning to, you give him an open-mouthed kiss, your lips immediately wrapping around his bottom ones and sucking gently on it, feeling him unclasp your bra as he sticks his tongue inside of you, slipping it off.

His fingers run themselves through your hair before transitioning to your bare skin, his palms sliding down the hill of your boob and grazing the dip of your waist before holding tightly onto your hips, holding you down as he pushes you back and forth onto his crotch.

You rhythmically grind yourself into him as he guides you, your kissing becoming less in order and more messy, more wetter. You both taste like weed, the smell fogging up the place around you and even your minds, every moment more intense and harsher, out of order yet perfect.

With a hand holding your hips hard enough to leave marks in the morning, his other hand uses two delicate fingers to brush down your spine, the tingling sensation sends a small shiver down your spine, arching your back to the touch. That same hand moving to the opposite side of your hips, caving into your leg and groping your thigh as he bites your lip when you went to take a break for a breath of air.

He whimpers your name, clearly more into this than you thought. You scatter off of him and he watches you confused, pressing down to his crotch. You shove his hands away, sitting  on your knees and you lean toward him. "You're so beautiful." He looks down at you as you take his sweatpants off, instinctively folding it and putting off to the side. That's how you knew you were high. "Let me suck your dick." You say in response to his compliment.

He plays with your hair, grabbing small strands and following it until he reaches the edge and they fall out of his grasp, repeating the action. "Thoughtful girl, hm." Chris mutters, he moans when you shove his boxers off and without warning, wrapping your lips around him.

Your tongue swirls around his tip before collecting all the leaking pre-cum from his hole, pressing your tongue in it which makes his hips buckle up. Your boobs graze softly against his legs as you let go for a moment, saliva drooping down his length as you spit at your palm, looking up at him as you begin to stroke him. He throws his head back, loud whimpers of your name slipping from his mouth. You continue your stroking as you bring the tip of him to your mouth once again, bopping your head up and down, matching the speed of you stroking as he grips the top of your head, pulling on your hair. "Fuck– I'm gonna– fuck!" He cums in your mouth and you pull away, strings of liquid managing to connect from him to your mouth as you swallow him down. 

"More?" You question once he's caught his breath, he looks down at you. "It felt like my virginity just got taken away from me." You laugh at his comment, grabbing a joint and quickly lighting it up for a quick puff. His eyes were still bloodshot, but you held the smoke in before you got closer to him, he opened his mouth, his eyes on yours as you blew the smoke straight into it. He sucked in the fog and released it through his nose.

You sat back on him, the only thing keeping your bare skin from touching was the pants you still haven't taken off yet. You brought the joint back to his mouth and he happily took a long drag. "Still a virgin, by the way." You remind him, licking your thumb and index finger, stinging the half-smoked joint light gone. "Right. Here for business aren't we?" He blows the smoke from his mouth, pointing it to his right so it wouldn't hit your face. "Damn straight." You nod.

"Nice tits, by the way."

"Chris just fuck me."

Your pants were off in seconds and you found yourself hovering right over him, hesitant to just fully take him.

"We don't have to." He trails, holding onto your waist, sure you were both high to the point of seeing stars, but he was still considerate. "I want to." You muttered, holding onto his shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. Your walls immediately clenched around him and it was almost painful, slowly but surely Chris helped you raise yourself as you raised his hips with you, your moans muffled out of your hearing capacity, hyper focused on his noises and the idea of fully thrusting with him.

"Want me to go slow?" He groans, slowly pushing himself farther into you once he is out. "Just do it how you normally would." You drop your head to his shoulder, facing his neck as his thrust become more common, his speed going faster. Your nails clawed at his other shoulder as you kept everything in you not to bite onto him for closure. You would lift yourself up as he pushed himself inside you once you drop yourself back down, following his pace that would only just quicken.

Maybe it was the weed, but you could've sworn you had a warm tear make its way down your cheek, it was painful, but pleasurable, his size definitely not what you were expecting for your first time. You placed damp kisses along his neck and collarbone, feeling your stomach clench harshly. "Chris–"

"I know, baby. I know. Me too." He moans, barely able to utter a few words. You quickly push you off of him, both on que as you cum everywhere. You're thankful he did, not really sure what you would do if you got pregnant from your first time.

You lay on the gray couch completely naked, trying to get your breath in order. Chris does the same, turning to look at you to do so. His eyebrows furrow, "Did I hurt you?" He wipes away your tear with his thumb. "A little." You admit, "but I think it's normal. Right?" You question. "As long as it's not anything you didn't want, it should be normal." He nods, running his hands softly over your cum-covered stomach.

"How are we going to clean the couch from this?" You question, he looks up from you. "We better get to fucking work."

You stand up, your legs shaking as you attempt to put your underwear back on. Chris clicks his tongue. "Sit back down, I'll do it." He stands up, shoving himself back into his boxers, unfolding his sweatpants and putting them on.

You sigh, thinking about a shower and how good Chris felt against you. He manages to come back from around the corner with a towel. You attempt to help him clean. "We're so fucked." You mumbled.

He looks back at you and realizes just how high you two are. This event will definitely give you something to talk about later on, but for now Chris steals one more kiss from you, long and passionate. A different kind of euphoria for two idiots high out of their minds.

"I think you might be the bestest friend I've ever had." He says.

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolos #sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo smut #girls who smoke weed #cannabis #nicolas antonio sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfiction #fanfic #weed smut

[poebot]

Thinking many thoughts about my favourite masc. (drabble)

The greatest part about dating a girl like Ellie besides from her 10/10 head game is how easily you can turn your brain off around her. You don’t have to lift a finger around your girlfriend because she’s always three steps ahead of determining your needs.

She’s the type of girlfriend to sprint out of the driver’s seat to open your door if she sees you reach for the handle. The type to spoil you any chance she gets with small gestures like silly trinkets that remind her of you, or little sketches of your face with cheesy puns and motivating messages attached that she’d sneak into your bag when you’re on your way to class.

A professional purse/jacket/uncomfortable shoes holder whenever you go out together, despite reminding you twenty something times that maybe you should wear something more comfortable or ditch the bag in the car. She’d roll her eyes at you and grumble under her breath about how she ‘tried to tell you’, but the second she sees you limp in your heels or shiver even slightly, she’s at your rescue, wrapping you up in her hoodie or carrying the heels under her arm.

You learned how to roll ages before meeting her, but it’s just so easy to bat your eyelashes and watch the dopey grin on her face as she takes the papers out of your hands. “Don’t worry about it, babe. I got it.” And as fiercely independent as she is, the way she melts whenever you do anything to show your care for her would be sad if it wasn’t so endearing. Her cheeks would flush and she’d turn her head away, avoiding your gaze as you hold her face in your hands and press soft kisses across her freckled forehead. “You didn’t have to do that…” She mutters, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard it if not for the proximity. But the sheepish smile on her face and the way she brightens up under your touch lets you know she appreciates the pampering just as much as you do.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #brief weed mentions #tlou #wlw #fluff #drabble #ellie headcanons #ellie tlou #the last of us

[sluttywoozi]

After LIKE Part One | smg x f!reader

Posted first on my Patreon

Rating: M | WC: ~4.8k

Mingi has been your plug for nearly three years now. You've always liked him well enough, but something has changed between you. What happens after like?

Notes/Warnings: plug!mingi, weed use, food mention, kissing, stress/anxiety

Grad school is hard. Really hard, you’ve discovered.

You knew it would be, of course, but it’s difficult in ways you didn’t expect. First of all, you have no money. You can afford groceries and rent, thankfully, but luxuries are scarce. You’re also stressed nearly all the time, with your thesis looming over your shoulder and begging you to work on it even when you’re in class. You have friends, but you don’t really get to see them between your work and their own, so you return to an empty apartment most of the time.

You do have a lot of bright spots in your life too, though. You get to study what you love, you have friends to miss, and you can still afford little things that make your life better.

Your phone dings, a tone that means one of those bright spots is especially vibrant today. You just got off work at the coffee shop, a double from 6 AM to 4 PM, and your hair still smells of roasted espresso beans and turmoil but you’re beaming as you throw your uniform off and pull on clean clothes.

Mingi is free for you to come pick up, and after you complained of having trouble last time, he promised to roll your joints for you. He’s an expert and they always burn perfectly, and it also makes you feel a little special. Mingi doesn’t roll for just anybody, and considering that you’re quite literally terrible at it, you really appreciate that you’re somebody to him.

You and Mingi met in junior year of college. You were majoring in Psychology and Mingi was getting his degree in Hospitality, and somehow, you managed to have a shared class nearly every semester. He was cute but your eye was already focused on grad school and you didn’t think you had time for distractions. Then he approached you at San and Yeosang’s party nearly begging for help on the next exam and you decided maybe you did.

You also happened to spot the joints in his t-shirt pocket. You’d been looking for a plug for a while but hadn’t found anyone reliable, and having Mingi in your class would make it incredibly easy to arrange pickups.

Thus, you became Mingi’s tutor and Mingi became your plug, and you kind of sort of became each other’s friends too.

Three years later, you’ve both graduated and moved on; you to a Master’s program in Applied Psychology and Mingi to cooking school. He still deals on the side, but only to a select few as his reputation in the kitchen steadily grows.

The commute to his flat is easy, just a couple stops on the bus and a short walk to his building, and he buzzes you up as soon as you press the intercom button, meaning you only have the elevator ride to the third floor to prepare yourself to interact with him. It’s not that Mingi is intimidating or annoying or hard to deal with, it’s just that he’s so fucking hot you have trouble concentrating sometimes.

He’s always been tall but he’s gotten bigger and bigger over the years, and now the way he fills out his shirts and sweatpants makes you breathless. And, ugh, his smile. It’s so sincere, and kind, and sometimes playful, and sometimes knowing.

He doesn’t know everything though.

He doesn’t know you bought from Wooyoung two weeks ago, and that he smoked you out first.

Mingi always offers; he even offers to pick you up so you can try it before you buy it, but you hardly ever take him up on it because you just can’t get close to him now like you used to. In college, he didn’t affect you this way. He was just the cute guy you bought weed from that could make you laugh, and now, he’s the incredibly hot and caring guy you buy weed from that frequently makes you dizzy.

You needed a break from that, and Wooyoung was available. You can never let Mingi know though, he’ll get too jealous and you won’t be able to handle it.

You arrive at his flat before you’re ready, and you’ve barely knocked when the door unlocks and Mingi and his crooked smile appear in the frame.

“Hey, come in,” he grabs your hand and tugs you inside, your legs working overtime to keep up with his large steps. He leads you to his living room, sitting down on the couch and patting the cushion next to him. You settle a safe distance away, far enough that your thighs don’t touch, and bite back a smile at the way he eyes the space between you.

He leans over to the table next to the couch and pulls a tin from the drawer before opening it and passing it to you. It’s filled with neatly rolled joints, at least ten, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when he tells you the price.

“That’s way too little, isn’t it?” You respond incredulously, looking between him and the tin.

Mingi just shrugs, plopping a small jar of ground weed on the couch cushion between you and replying, “Includes that, too.”

“Mingi,” you try to hold back the whine that wants to sneak out in your voice, only pouting further when he holds up his hands and says, “It’s competitive pricing.”

Competitive pricing. So he does know.

Wooyoung must have bragged to Mingi about it, knowing his meddlesome nature and proclivity for playing with his friends. He’s harmless at his core but likes to cause trouble sometimes, and this is one of those times.

“I can’t believe you let him smoke you out,” Mingi crosses his arms and leans back against the arm of the couch to turn the full force of his guilt trip on you.

You groan pitifully, folding over to bury your face in your knees so you don’t have to look at him any longer. You don’t really have an excuse to give him, one that doesn’t give you away at least, and you definitely can’t explain yourself.

“Ahhh, it’s okay, babe, I’m just teasing,” Mingi rubs your shoulder with a big hand, pulling you up out of your shame bend. He seems sincere, but his eyes still look a bit dim and you vow to yourself that you won’t pick up from anyone else again.

You squeeze the hand on your shoulder before grabbing your phone and sending him the money he’d requested, plus a little extra. It went straight into his account so he can’t do anything about it, and you know he won’t send you the money back because cooking school is so expensive. He glowers halfheartedly at you when he sees the notification but as you thought, does nothing beyond putting his phone away and scrunching his mouth at you again.

Grinning triumphantly, you close the tin and tuck it in your purse along with the little jar he’d prepared for you. It seems you win this round, and you can only hope you win the next too.

Keyboard clicks and taps of a slipper on hardwood fill your room, the silhouette of your hunched, exhausted form illuminated by the bright light of your computer. You have a meeting with your thesis advisor tomorrow, and there’s still so many changes to make. You procrastinated in making use of her comments, leaving your editing to the last minute as usual, and now you’re paying the price.

You’ve been working for hours now, proofreading and crying and proofreading again, and you’re starting to feel like you’re losing your mind. You need a break, desperately, and your phone pings just as you push away from your desk to go lay on your bed.

You could cry (again).

Texting him back with what you think is an appropriate amount of waterfall-eyed emojis, you hop in the shower and go through your routine quickly.

When you emerge from the bathroom, you feel like a person again, and you’ve just slipped into your clothes when Mingi texts you back.

He’s… outside? You rush to your street-facing window and look down, finding Mingi leaning against his car with a beanie covering his hair and a smile big enough to power the stars covering his face. He spots you easily, waving and cupping his hands around his mouth. You fumble with the lock of the window, pushing it up and poking your head out to hear him yell, “Come on, the food’s getting cold.”

Your stomach grumbles, reminding you that you haven’t eaten since breakfast and it’s now, you swear as you check your watch, eight pm. You’re starving and your brain is still making dial up noises and your back hurts from your terrible posture but none of that matters, because Mingi is outside, waiting for you. With food.

You fly down the stairs, bursting out of your building with tears in your eyes and your arms already open for a hug. He pulls you into the cradle of his chest immediately, smoothing a hand over your hair and rubbing your sore back. “Everything okay?” He asks, pulling away to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowing when he spots the bags under your eyes and your stress-bitten lips.

“Let’s get you over to mine, yeah?”

After opening the door with a flourish, he ushers you in with gentle hands and watches as you click in your seatbelt. He jogs around the front of the car, jumping in and checking his surroundings before pulling away from the curb and starting on the way to his place.

“Here, eat something.”

A searing hot bag gets dropped in your lap, smelling of fresh fries and salvation, and you dig in without a second thought. You catch Mingi’s cheeks curving in a smile out of the corner of your eye and fight back a grin of your own, always charmed by the way your happiness becomes his.

Mingi rolls into his parking space with ease, shutting the car off and turning to you to say, “I think you’ll love this new one, I tried it with Woo last night and it knocked us off our asses.”

That sounds like exactly what you need, and you follow closely at his heels as you traverse the hall to his flat. His body blocks your entire view but you stop at the right door anyway, so used to this walk that you could do it with your eyes closed. He unlocks the door quickly and beckons you in first, a wall of scent hitting you and making your eyes tear up.

They’re not watering out of disgust (as they have in the past in other men’s apartments), they’re watering because you can smell spam fried rice, and you know he’s made it for you.

Mingi speeds past you to the kitchen and you go straight to the living room. He said in the beginning to make yourself at home, so you do. You settle into your preferred corner of the couch, noting with something like dragonflies in your belly that he’s already prepared a coaster, blanket, and the remote for you.

You wonder if all his other clients get this kind of luxury treatment, but find yourself not wanting to think of him having other clients at all. You know he does, obviously, but prefer to think he likes you the best and never need to know otherwise.

When you turn the TV on, it’s set to soccer. You’d love to change the channel but recognize the team as Mingi’s favorite, so you leave it on and bump the volume up. Just as they score a goal, he returns from the kitchen carrying two steaming bowls, a pair of water bottles, and utensils. You bounce in your seat as he carefully sets them down on the coffee table in front of you before leaning over to retrieve his bong and lighter from the end table. He’s already packed it, the angel, and he passes it straight to you.

Mingi raises his hand to light it for you as you bring it up to your mouth, and you look up through your lashes at him while you inhale. He holds your gaze, biting his lip and watching you take the hit with darkened eyes.

The taste is sharp in your mouth, the smoke sitting heavily in your lungs for a second or two before you blow it out with pursed lips. You angle away from Mingi, too polite to blow it straight in his face though you have a sneaking suspicion he just might enjoy it. You can still feel his eyes on you, but you need a second to yourself to let the effects roll in.

When you turn back to Mingi, it’s like everything around you has slowed down. He’s grinning proudly, and you’re not sure whether he’s proud of you or his own weed, but you don’t really care either way. You’re just happy that he’s happy, and you hand him the bong with a smile of your own.

Mingi takes his hit quickly and skillfully, and you let your focus fall to the hot rice waiting for you on the coffee table.

It’s delicious, as his food always is, and the comforting flavor shrinks your stress with each bite. Just the one hit was enough to melt you into the couch and with your free hand, you reach for the blanket. It’s hard to spread it over your legs while holding the bowl, and Mingi sets the bong down to help you.

His hands brush your thighs in the process, and you thank yourself for putting yoga pants on after your shower. You already feel floaty, you don’t need the feeling of Mingi’s hands on your skin adding to that.

You hum, taking another bite and snuggling into your blanket before looking up at Mingi. His eyes are already on you and you can see the tips of his ears turn red as a sheepish smile rises to his face.

Catching him looking at you is one of your favorite things in the world, and it happens oh so often. You’re not sure why you’re so fascinating to him, but you won’t complain about it, especially when it means you often get all of his attention.

It’s something you noticed in uni when you started hanging out with him after picking up at parties instead of just leaving like you used to. He would usually be surrounded by a mix of people when you arrived, and as soon as he set eyes on you, it’s like they’d all disappear.

Mingi grabs the bong and offers it to you, exchanging it for your rice. He sets it on the table next to his and lights the bowl for you, tucking into his own rice as soon as it’s burning enough. You take in more this time, feeling the smoke sear down your throat and into your lungs and letting it stay there before pushing it out away from Mingi again.

You breathe for a while, swallowing down a cough with a mouthful of water before turning to Mingi and saying, “Thank you for this, and for the rice. It’s fucking delicious.”

“Course, babe,” he nudges you affectionately with his elbow. “I know it’s your favorite. How’s your thesis going?”

You grimace thinking of the work waiting for you at home, and Mingi rushes to assure you, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

“No, it’s okay. I just have a meeting with my advisor tomorrow and I left accommodating her comments until the last minute, like a dummy. So I’ve been working on it all day and I’m like, three quarters of the way done but before you texted, I was seriously on my way to losing it.”

Your head falls to rest on Mingi’s bicep, the muscle surprisingly cushy and his smooth skin warm under your cheek.

“You’re not a dummy, you’re a genius. You just procrastinate because you know in your heart that you work best under pressure.”

“No, I just didn’t want to do it,” you reply with a shrug, tilting your head to look up at Mingi.

“Shhhh, my way sounds better,” he places his index finger against your lips and you take a quick breath in, freezing in place. Mingi freezes too, his half-lidded eyes locked on your mouth for one, two, three heartbeats before he pulls away with a forced laugh. He pulls off his beanie to run his fingers through his hair, his attention briefly pulled to the game as his team scores again.

He cheers and bounces in place, flashing a grin at you that turns small, secretive, when he sees the look on your face. You’re still reeling from the moment you just shared, and it’s frustrating that he seems to have completely recovered. Maybe touching you just isn’t that big of a deal to him, maybe he doesn’t feel the distance like you do, or maybe you’re much further gone than he is.

You can believe the first two, but the last one would hurt.

Mingi picks you up this time, takes you for a drive. You think he can tell that you’re not doing the best mentally, because he grins at you softly and squeezes your hand when you get in the car.

You don’t know where you’re going and you don’t care, all you care about is that you’re not staring at your thesis in the quiet dark of your room anymore. It was starting to mock you, the work left undone, and you desperately needed a break.

Mingi texted at the perfect time, just when you were about to officially call it quits. He could somehow tell that you were at the end of your rope, and told you he’d be there in fifteen with something to relax you and a new playlist for you to enjoy.

He arrived in twelve, and your heart fluttered the whole way down the stairs.

Now you’re on the way to a place you don’t know, the street names unfamiliar and the distance growing between your flat and his sedan. You don’t mind it, having needed a getaway for a while, and you settle into your seat with a sigh as the car travels down unrecognizable roads.

An undetermined amount of time passes, your mind going into a soft, relaxed state the further you go. Eventually, you pull up to a deserted park and Mingi turns off the car, looking at you with warm eyes and a charming smile.

“So, I’ve got some blunts for us, and I also went to the convenience store and grabbed your favorite snacks.”

“You sweet, sweet boy,” you breathe, dangerously close to leaning over and kissing him right on those plump lips.

He grins shyly, passing you a blunt and holding up the lighter as you bring it to your mouth. You take in a deep hit, holding the smoke in your lungs for as long as you can take before exhaling away from his face. You feel the haze set in immediately, your combined stress and exhaustion making you that much more susceptible to the high coming over you.

Mingi’s eyes stay on you, feeling like physical weights holding you down as you stifle the rising coughs. You pass him the blunt, watching as he takes in a pull of smoke and blows it out into the vacant backseat.

He holds it out for you, letting go just before you take hold and nearly dropping it in the place of no return that is the gap between the seat and the console. He gasps, fumbling to catch it before it can burn the leather or fall in between the seats.

He grins sheepishly before grabbing your hand in his and wrapping your fingers around the blunt to be sure you’ve got it. You bring it to your lips and take in a breath, feeling the smoke settle in all the crevices of your lungs before you exhale it toward the roof of the car.

Mingi’s eyes are still on you but they feel different, heavier, and when you turn to him to pass the blunt back, his gaze is on your lips.

The hazy air buzzes with electricity, the cab of his sedan suddenly feeling two sizes too small. The blunt burns away where you hold it aloft, just waiting for Mingi to take it. He doesn’t move, seemingly frozen in place as wasted smoke fills the space between you. He finally raises his hand, but instead of the blunt, he reaches for your face, his big palm spanning your whole cheek.

“Y/n, can I kiss you?” he breathes, his voice so full of longing that it takes yours away, leaving you to nod as he leans in. Your eyelids flutter down, your lips just barely puckered and your heart galloping in your chest. It flips when his mouth touches yours, skips when he lets out a wounded noise and presses harder, soars when his fingers slide to the back of your neck and tilt your head to the angle he deems best for kissing you out of your mind.

You sigh into him, melting closer and closer until you’re all but draped over the middle console with just his hand holding you up. He laughs against your mouth, his teeth digging into the plush of your bottom lip just enough to sting. You feel calmer than you ever have kissing someone but you also feel like you could vibrate out of your skin, and it can only be the potent combination of good weed and Mingi.

It’s a cocktail you’ve tried before but never like this, and it only takes a few minutes of his lips pressed to yours for you to know that you can’t go back. You can’t go back to not knowing what it’s like to kiss him, to feel his fingers in your hair, to get this close to him and then have him pull you even closer.

You can’t go back to just being a friend/client, someone who only sees him when they need something.

You want to be more than that to him, and see him all the time, and kiss him all the time, and-

And he’s pulling away. Why is he pulling away?

“Y/n?”

“Hm?” You force your eyes open and lean back far enough to take in his expression. He looks… sad? Regretful? Not exactly what you expected or what you’d like to see after he’s just kissed you for the first time, but you try not to let your feelings get hurt and wait for him to speak.

Except… he doesn’t. He swipes a thumb over your cheekbone and pulls away, reaching into the backseat before setting the bag of treats on your thigh and putting the car in reverse. You’re unsure of what just happened and what to do about it, but you are hungry and you could really use some sugar right now, so you glumly open the bag and start eating.

You chew absentmindedly, your eyes wandering over to Mingi’s face. You can tell he’s focused on driving but he looks stressed, his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed. You wish you could make him feel better but you don’t actually know what’s wrong, and with your mind still buzzing from weed and the kiss, you think talking may not be the best idea.

You ride in silence for a few minutes, watching the buildings whiz past and bopping along to his playlist. When Mingi’s favorite song comes on and he neglects to sing the opening line, you decide you’ve had enough.

“Mingi, what’s wrong?” You plead, your eyes tracing his side profile and your fingers itching to intertwine with his. He sighs, chewing on his lip and nervously darting his eyes from mirror to windshield to mirror.

“I just… I didn’t want it to happen that way. I know I asked, and that’s my fault, this whole thing is, but I- fuck. I’m doing this all wrong.”

Shaking his head, he clicks the blinker on and pulls carefully into a dimly lit parking lot. He turns the car off and undoes his seat belt, turning to you and fighting to tuck one knee up on the seat.

You’re sure your confusion is clear on your face, as is the small amount of hurt you can’t will away, and Mingi takes both of your hands in his, looking at them instead of you.

“I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that. I mean, we were high, you’re stressed, and you’re buying. I guess I just wanted it to be more… romantic, but I got impatient and ruined everything.”

He wanted your first kiss to be romantic. He’s thought about your first kiss before, and about how he wanted it to be.

You could scream, but you figure you should reassure him first.

“Mingi, that’s so sweet I want to cry, but don’t be so dramatic. We can always kiss again.”

“We can?” He pouts, finally looking up and meeting your eyes, his own swimming with what you fear are unshed tears.

“Yes!” you squeeze his hands emphatically, “Literally any time you want.”

“Like… right now?” His eyes dart down to your lips, lingering there as they stretch in a grin. You nod, still smiling, still freaking out inside that he’s envisioned your first kiss, and still desperately hoping for a second.

He leans in closer, his lashes brushing his cheeks and his lips parting before he presses them softly against yours. You can’t help but hold your breath, somehow more nervous about this kiss than the first. It doesn’t take long for Mingi to relax you though, his fingers sinking into your hair and his air mixing with yours.

You sink into the kiss, sighing out the rest of your worries and cupping his jaw to hold him to you. He makes a soft sound as his whole body tips closer, his fingers tightening in your hair and his teeth digging into your bottom lip again. You can’t help but wonder where else he’d bite if given the chance, and can only hope the answer is all over.

When he pulls away this time, you’re dizzy, the sun has gone down, and you’re inches from launching yourself over the center console to climb in his lap. There’s nothing you want to do more than keep kissing him, but it seems he has other plans.

“I should get you home, you need to rest,” he breathes, his voice ragged and his thumb tracing the darkness under your eye.

“No, you should kiss me some more,” you exhale back, sliding your fingers into his hair and using your hold to tug him back to you. His chuckle sounds more like a sigh but he gives in anyway, pressing his plush lips to yours and letting a big hand cover your thigh. You were feeling warm before but with his calloused fingers brushing over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, you feel hot, like you could melt or burst into flames or combust.

Any one of the three is a possibility so long as Mingi keeps his hands on you, which is why you’re part relieved and part devastated when he pulls away. You lick your lips, chasing his taste but letting him settle back into his seat. Your hand falls from his hair and he catches it, smooching the back with a loud smack and brightly grinning at you.

You giggle freely, feeling lighter than you have in days and barely even dreading returning to your flat. “Can I take you home now?” He asks, squeezing at the flesh of your thigh just because he can.

“Yeah, you can take me home now,” you whisper back with a small, fond smile, covering his hand with yours to keep it there as he turns the headlights on and exits the parking lot. You drift for most of the ride back, Mingi’s soft, low voice lulling you slowly to sleep.

You blink awake as he pulls up to your flat, rubbing at your eyes and at the numb spot on your face where you were resting against the window. You look over with a drowsy smile and lean forward to kiss him goodbye, clumsily unbuckling your seatbelt as you do.

“I would walk you up, but I got towed last time,” he pouts apologetically, making you let out a sleepy laugh and respond, “I know, baby, you called me crying after.”

“I wasn’t crying!” he swears as you climb out of the car and gently shut the door.

What you don’t see as you walk away is him slowly tipping forward to rest his head against the steering wheel, whispering gleefully to himself, “She called me baby.”

AN: written as a commission for a diff idol and reworked to fit mingi!! beta’d by @petrichor-mingi thank you!!

part two will have smut :-)))

Part Two

pls reblog if you enjoyed! i would love to hear your thoughts 💖

My Masterlist

#mingi fanfic #mingi x you #mingi x y/n #mingi fluff #mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi imagines #ateez fluff #ateez au #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #✨emily writes✨ #tw weed #cw weed

[saintmurd0ck]

all up in smoke

masterlist

pairing: frank castle x f!reader

summary: based on the prompt: 'sit on my lap and let's smoke a joint'

warnings: alcohol, weed (rolling a joint, smoking, shotgunning), frank being a cute little whore, heavy petting/teasing but no sex, high epiphanies (mostly fluff!)

a/n: happy late birthday to the ever lovely @chelseasdagger , this one is for you babeyyyyy 💗

Home is a solace on your lips as you step inside, your keys joining the others in the bowl by the front door. Despite the events of your day, still fresh in your mind, you feel the knotted tension in your body begin to dissipate, the pressure easing in your temples. The few lights that have been left on are dimmed, filling the house with the kind of ambient coziness you’ve been longing for all day. 

You round the corner, and there he is on the couch: feet kicked up on the coffee table, immersed in a hardcover book you swore he’d never touch. A pang of emotion stirs in your stomach — a cross between yearning and consolation; something you just can’t place, but are grateful for nevertheless. 

“Hi, Frankie,” you smile, drawing the curtains open, letting the cool night air filter into the living room. 

He lifts an eyebrow, glancing up at you from behind the book. “Hey, sweetheart. Long day?”

You stretch your arms over your head, nevermind that his voice stirs something in you, and set your bag up on the kitchen counter. “Mmhm. Glad to be home.”

Frank leans forwards, fingers closing around the drink he’s left on the coffee table. His eyes flick to yours as he takes a sip, caring not to break contact, before jerking his chin at the bottle of scotch next to your bag. “You want some of that?”

He points at you, clicking his tongue as you move to pick the bottle up. “Don’t move. Stay right there.” Setting his book aside, the pages splayed face-down onto the table, he makes his way over, utterly impervious to your flurried attempts in getting him to remain where he is.

“D’ya really think I’d let you pour your own drink?” Frank says, looking affronted, but a furtive smile spreads along his face as you shake your head.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let me take care of ‘ya,” he adds, delicately.

Carting you gently to the side, he digs around in the freezer, reaching for a couple of ice cubes that clink mellifluously in the glass. You watch intently as they bob in line with the whiskey streaming in, and then as he inspects the amber liquid closely, as if to examine its quality. 

When he’s satisfied, he turns to you, and raises the rim of the glass to your mouth. “Here,” Frank murmurs, condensation collecting around his fingertips. “Drink up.”

You shudder as the whiskey cascades hotly through your veins — each note of pepper, caramel and nutmeg lingering on the surface of your tongue like molten honey. You swallow another mouthful before pushing the glass away, not taking your eyes off of him for a second as he sets it down.

Frank runs his tongue over his teeth, raking his eyes across your face. He focuses on a stray drop of whiskey at the corner of your mouth, using a knuckle to brush it away. Your heart thunders at his calloused touch; as he pauses to swipe his broad thumb over your bottom lip. There’s a faint throbbing within you — a wild drumbeat steering you towards nothing but desire — so you flick your tongue out, circling his fingertip, relishing in his taste of salt, earth and whiskey.   

He lets out a soft groan, mumbling something that sounds like your name; maybe even a plea to slow down. You’re attentive, knowing he doesn’t want this night over yet, that he wants to wait before taking you to bed. 

It’s a good thing then, that you have something planned. 

You inch forwards, swallowing as Frank’s hand sweeps over the contours of your face, coming to rest at a spot near your ear. He tips your chin upwards, letting his ragged breathing fan over you. He stalls, allowing his dark eyes to bore into yours, and for a moment you forget where you are, the stressors of the day long gone.

All you know is him. 

His beard prickles your skin as he captures your mouth with his own, but you lean into the kiss, savouring his ardent warmth. He moves with you, deepening the kiss as you slide a hand into his hair, curling your fingers at the nape. Your thighs squeeze together as he pivots you around, pushing you against the counter while his tongue melts against yours. Using his leg to knock your knees apart, you arch into his touch, gasping as the bulge in his jeans settles where you need him the most. 

You won’t be able to stop if you don’t pull away now.

“Frank,” you whisper. “Frank.”

He looks at you, placing a small kiss to your jaw. “Mm?” 

“Before… uh,” you start, lightheaded and fuzzy, unable to comprehend anything but the heady weight of the whiskey and the ache between your legs. “I've got something for us. A little surprise. And I think,” you indicate, wagging a finger from him to you, “we should save this for later.”

He arches his eyebrows, smiling inquisitively. “Yeah? And what’s that?” 

You step aside to rummage through your bag, taking only a few seconds for you to find what it is you’re looking for. You hold up a clear plastic container, giving it a little shake in front of Frank’s face. His eyes widen in comprehension.

“God, I love you.” 

“Hey,” you smirk, “not God. Just me.” 

He chokes on his own laughter, draining the last of your whiskey. “You got it, sweet girl.”

You bite down on your growing smile. “Anyway, I was thinking the plan could go something like… get a little high, have some fun. You know what I mean, right?”

“S’that right?”

“We both deserve it.”

“You need some help with that?” he asks, pointing at the rolling papers you’ve set down on the counter. 

“Nope. Walk away.” 

You’re an image of rapt focus with your tongue between your teeth, cautiously grinding the weed before packing it into the rolling paper. You slip a filter on one end of the joint, and using your thumb and forefingers, you roll it into place. Bringing the free edge of rolling paper up to your mouth, you skirt your tongue along the narrow strip of glue, quickly moving to seal the joint. 

You shoot Frank a resolute look of determination. “Not bad, huh?” 

He folds his arms over his chest, leaning back into the couch. Almost hidden in the tangle of his beard, the corners of his mouth tick upwards. You can’t quite tell if he’s astonished, impressed, or a mixture of everything in between, but the expression on his face is a priceless ego boost. “Attagirl.”

“Mmhm,” you reply drily, admiring your handiwork from up close.

“Baby?” Frank calls, breaking your tethered focus. A glimmer of a smile in your periphery catches your eye.

“Yeah?” 

There’s a sound of rustling fabric as Frank spreads his legs, motioning you over to him by patting his thigh. “C’mere.”

Your gaze softens at his request. “That sounds good, Frankie. Let me grab my lighter.”

“Got it right here,” Frank chuckles, holding it up and thumbing it open.

Twirling the joint in your fingers, you meander over to his spot on the couch, watching the tiny orange flame dance in his eyes as he holds down the lighter button. 

He’s a solid comfort under you as you sit down on his lap, shuffling back until the side of your body is angled to his chest, using the armrest as additional support. His scent is a blissful, pacifying force – distilling in you where it matters. 

Frank wrests the joint from your grip, assiduous in the way he places it between your lips, then as he lights it for you. The lit end glows as the papered edges begin to burn, flickering in its reflection in the window ahead. You take a drag, letting the smoke fill your mouth before inhaling it into your lungs. Maybe it’s in your head, but your body feels lighter already; even more so as you exhale. 

The grey-tinged smoke remains opaque for only a second, vanishing into the air as soon as you pass the joint to Frank. You breathe out again, more deeply this time, allowing the grassy, herbal scent of the weed wash over you in waves of tranquil calm.

You cock your head to the side, studying the normally terse man before you leisurely smoking the joint, taking two drags instead of one. Gratitude forms a lump in your throat — nights like these are rare, and to see him so carefree, his mind unoccupied by the workings of the larger world, is a luxury you’ll never get tired of. 

After tapping the gathering ashes into his empty whiskey glass, Frank hands the joint back to you, closing his eyes while he waits for your next pass. As the weed-induced euphoria starts to take effect, you wrench one of Frank’s hands from its spot on your thigh, interlacing your fingers together. You take your time in mapping his knuckles, tracing over every crease, scar and perfect imperfection. 

You tap on Frank’s shoulder, wanting him as a credible witness for a successful smoke ring, but like all your past attempts, it morphs back into a cloud, hanging there in contempt. 

He laughs softly, putting you right to shame with a series of flawless rings that fall forwards in an arc towards the coffee table. 

You giggle, jabbing him in the chest with an expertly-placed elbow. “Don’t get too cocky now, Castle.”

His mouth quirks to the side. “Yeah? What are you gonna do, hm?”

“I’ll…” you search around the room for something to say. “I’ll withhold sex!” 

He gasps, feigning an expression of outrageous offense. “That’s cruel, darlin’.”

Laughing, you reassure him you wouldn’t, really, but he takes the opportunity to soar through the cracks of your defense, hauling you backwards until his face is flush with the shell of your ear. “Really think you could resist it? Not havin' sex?” 

The retorts crumble away as he tells you to ‘open up, sweetheart’, lifting the joint back to his lips. He breathes in deeply, turning his head to then exhale the smoke into your parted mouth. Your eyes roll back as he seals it with a kiss, and it catches you a little by surprise, but you run with it, inhaling as much as you can.

Not quite ready to let go of your earlier comments, Frank does it again, shotgunning into your mouth until you're left with nothing but a dreamy expression and no thoughts left in your mind.

You let out a contented sigh as the weed goes to your head, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where his beard scratched your lip. 

Eyes drooping, Frank wraps his arms tightly around you, holding you as close as he can, trailing kisses along your shoulder blades, down your arm, whispering sweet nothings and notes of ‘I love you’ until you slacken in his grip. You touch your lips to his forehead, now resting in the crook of your neck, his steady breathing keeping you anchored to your reality.

The next hour passes by in a haze — you’re mildly aware that there was another joint rolled in that time, courtesy of Frank, probably, but your memory retains the best parts: the giddy, high epiphanies, the smoke-filled kisses, the long-drawn-out touches… the fact that his skin has never felt so soft.

Exceptionally and utterly stoned, you move, draping your legs over his lap, clinging onto his neck so you can bury your face in his shirt – so spaced out that you barely register him talking. 

“...Who the fuck is “Drake” anyway?” 

“What?!” you sputter, snickering as if it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. “He’s a rapper, Frankie.” 

“He’s off limits, so don’t even try” — you stumble over your words — “enacting your justice or… whatever.”

Frank frowns at you, pressing his lips into a thin line. 

And then he bursts into laughter. Unequivocal, heaving sobs of hysterical laughter. And it might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Enacting my justice? That what you think it is?” he howls, bringing his fist down onto the couch. “You really think I’ve got nothin’ better to do than hunt down rappers?!”

“A little bit,” you sniffle, wiping away the tears of joy streaming down your face. “You know who’d love this conversation?” 

He shakes his head as you continue. “Micro.”

“Micro,” he nods, affirming your point. “Bet he’d know more about “Drake” than me.”

You chortle at his aggressive hand gestures. “You don’t need air-quotations every time you say Drake, you know.”

He waves a hand in the air. “Ahh, I know.”

“Frank Castle,” you say, kissing his cheek once, then twice, “I think this is the wisest you’ve ever been.”

“Oh, c’mon. Really?”

You gesture at the stub of your second joint, floating in the bottom of his whiskey glass. “Yep. You might have to do this more.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

“Better me than what’s out there. Right, Frank?” you croon, batting your eyes at him.

“S’right, darlin’. That’s right.”

tags {x} @darlingshane @castlesnchurches @reborn-rekall @marvelswh0re @itwasthereaminuteago @simple-lovebot @chvoswxtch @pedrito-friskito @chellestrash @theradioactivespidergwen @twilightbarnes @splendiferous-bitch @bl4ckpr1ncess @kaybeeboop @kdogreads @swearwolf13 @rqgnarok @qu1etwolf @honeyedheartss @runa-falls @whistle1whistle @awkwardalie

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle fluff #frank castle fanfic #the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher fanfic #frank castle fanfiction #x reader #rhi writes 💻 #tw weed #cw drugs

[farfromstrange]

Weed Cookies | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 3 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Karen receives a box of cookies from one of their clients. Foggy and Matt take a bite. Even with his heightened senses though, Matt doesn't realize what's wrong with the cookies before he's absolutely wasted, and you have to babysit him. Yes, they were edibles.

Warnings: Fluff, faint hints at S3 depressed!Matt and suicidal ideations, attempt at humor, crack fic, accidental drug use, for the sake of this fic we are going to pretend that the edibles were made well enough for Mister I-Know-Everything to miss it

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I wrote this after watching the episode of Grey's Anatomy with the Weed Cookies. I took some behaviorisms from my own experiences and exaggerated them a little to fit the vibe of this fic. I scraped parts of this and once again adjusted them because this was even more poorly written before than it is now, and I added the Nelson, Murdock & Page Season 3 narrative again because that's now the running theme of this event. Anyway, if you choose to consume edibles, stay safe! (Also, I'm just copying and pasting my usual tag lists. if anyone wants to be added for this event, do let me know)

“We just got cookies from Ms. Lebowsky next door,” Karen announces happily when she enters the office, balancing the transparent Tupperware in one hand and her handbag in the other. 

“She told me to thank you for helping her get out of that hellhole,” she says. Her eyes crinkle in the corners as a mischievous grin takes over her face. “There’s plenty for all four of us. Although she did mention Matt a few more times.”

“Ms. Lebowsky?” Foggy asks. He stands in the doorway of his office, holding a freshly brewed coffee. “Isn’t she the elderly lady we helped last week?”

“Yeah, that’s her. I think she has a crush on Matt.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Of course, she does. Who doesn’t? Not that I do, but—well, you get the gist.” The blood rushes to his cheeks, and Karen giggles in response.

From the office on the left, Matt’s voice rings out, “We just did our jobs,” he says. “She made us cookies, dude!” Foggy inspects the box on Karen’s desk. “They’re chocolate chip cookies. Our favorite. See what good looks can buy you?”

Matt chuckles, his fingers tracing the Braille indentations in the documents that are starting to form a mountain before him. “I think we got them because we’re good lawyers, Foggy.”

“Yeah, right. No way! That woman was smitten the second she came in. I really gotta get that blind thing going. I mean, she’s way too old for you, but come on! You’re in a serious committed relationship, and women still come piling at your door. It’s not fair.”

The way he whines like a little kid who has just been denied his favorite candy makes Karen laugh at his antics, and even Matt can’t help but join in. No matter how stressed he is, and how badly he wants to focus, Foggy never fails to lighten the mood.

Ever since moving offices, things have been going well for the trio. 

When Matt met you, he was at his lowest. You helped him climb out of a dark hole that was threatening to swallow him whole after losing Elektra and almost losing everything he worked so hard for to Wilson Fisk. Thanks to you, he found the will to fight again. You brought him back to life.

He wanted to die. He hated himself for the longest time after the building collapsed and forever took the first woman he ever loved down with its ruins, but then you came into his life, and you didn’t care about his baggage. You were far too good for him, but that didn’t matter to you. 

He fell for you hard and fast, and maybe the timing was a little off because what he needed was therapy and not someone new to get attached to. Still, if you hadn’t pulled him back to his feet and encouraged him to fight back against Fisk, saving his friendship with the people he cares most about in the process, he would have never made it far enough to get therapy.

Matt trusts you with his life because he feels like he owes it to you, but he also loves you more than anything. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. You’re his soulmate, and he couldn’t be happier.

Nelson & Murdock added Karen to their permanent repertoire. With her, things are flowing much more smoothly, and they’re actually making money now. They’re expensive, as Foggy likes to say it. Matt’s friends are just as happy as he is, giving him hope for the future.

“Hey,” Foggy snaps him out of his trance, “Earth to Murdock.”

Matt blinks behind his glasses, his fingers halting their frantic movements along the paper. “While I don’t disagree with what you’re saying,” he says, “please don’t let my girlfriend hear you say that women are piling at my door.”

Karen snorts. “Trust me, Matt. She knows,” she says.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t remind her of that.”

“My lips are sealed. Foggy?”

He sighs, once again dramatically. “As long as you don’t sleep with them, you have nothing to fear, my friend.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” says Matt. “The one I’m sleeping with is incomparable.”

Foggy grimaces. “Oh, dude. Gross! You know, God made conscious thought as a mechanism for humans to know when to shut up.”

“To be fair, ninety percent of the population don’t know how to use that mechanism,” Karen jumps to Matt’s defense.

As he laughs, he takes a whiff of the air surrounding their new baked goods. Matt can smell the sweet chocolate of the cookies, and somewhat of a herbal essence, but he can’t quite pinpoint why the scent seems so familiar. 

Karen walks around her desk to drop her bag and her coat. “So, do guys want a cookie?” she asks, swiftly changing the subject.

“I’ll take one,” Foggy is quick to answer.

Matt nods from his desk. “I’ll try one, too.”

The innocent decision to indulge in a sweet treat soon comes back to bite them in the ass though. Heavily.

When Matt first bit into the cookie, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. It tasted like chocolate mixed with basil, sugar, honey, and the kind of flour Ms. Lebowsky used, but he didn’t find much else wrong with it. Perhaps if he hadn’t allowed himself to get distracted by his phone calling out your name and the sweetest text he could have possibly received this early in the morning from the love of his life, he would have noticed that something tasted off about these cookies. And that what he believed to have been basil as a secret ingredient was something else entirely.

When lunchtime finally rolls around, you drop everything you were doing before and make your way to Matt’s office. You always spend lunch together. It’s your favorite time of the day. For an hour, you can forget the stress of your workplace and focus on him. He’s your safe haven. Your home. You crave to memorize his features anew every day so that you will have something to carry around with you when he has to work a bit longer, or when he goes out at night and his Daredevil duties drag on beyond what he planned. 

You need to be with him as much as possible because you’re scared that your happiness will shatter on a white cloth, and you will be forced to move on—you can’t imagine losing him. You dedicated your life to loving him, and the thought of ever losing that privilege kills you. 

On your way out, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You smile, thinking that it’s Matt, but when Karen’s number pops up on your screen, you frown. 

‘We have a problem,’ she texted you. Without context. 

All the alarms in your head start blaring, and you start to walk a little faster. You start imagining all possible scenarios. When you ask Karen what’s going on, she doesn’t even reply. What if someone got hurt? What if something happened to Matt? You almost lost him once; you can’t go through that again. 

You burst into the new office space that your friends share a few minutes later, your chest heaving and sweat dripping down your pulsating temples. You’re ready to fight whoever dared to hurt the man you love, or possibly threaten your friends, or both, but when you look up and see your darling boyfriend with his cheek pressed against one of the leaves on their gigantic office plant as if the overgrown Calathea were the coziest pillow he has ever touched, you understand why Karen texted you that you—both you and her—have a problem. A big one, too, judging by the looks of it.

“What is going on here?” you ask the dreaded question, shutting the door behind you.

Only then do you notice Karen to your right in Foggy’s office, trying to get him off of his office chair. He’s belting the chorus of Defying Gravity at the top of his lungs, and he’s got a broom clutched tightly in his right hand.

Oh boy. Your wide eyes drift to Karen’s desk in the middle of the room. As soon as you see the chocolate cookies inside the Tupperware, it slowly begins to dawn on you.

You’re not sure which is worse: Matt cradling a houseplant with his glasses discarded and the first three buttons of his dress shirt undone as he’s coated in sweat, or Foggy singing one of Broadway’s greatest ballads so off-key that the Calathea is starting to wither.

It takes Matt much longer than usual to sense your presence in the room. He calls your name, and his lips curl into a bright grin. Even completely out of it, he looks like an angel on earth. 

“Matthew,” you say. You approach him like you would approach a little kid. He’s on his knees, so the analogy isn’t far off. 

“Hi, honey. What’s going on?”

“Sweetheart,” he greets you, and you have never heard this man sound so relaxed. His hazel eyes are red-rimmed and glazed over, but the most obvious change lies in his behavior. 

“Feel that.” He reaches for your hand when you’re close enough for him to smell you, but he misses. “Where are you?” Matt pouts. “I can’t see.”

You want to laugh, but this is not the time. “You are blind, baby,” you remind him. 

“Since when?”

“Over twenty years.”

“Oh.” He finally gets a hold of your hand. The conversation seems to go right over his head. “Feel the power of nature,” he tells you. “It’s so soft.”

You want to drag him away from the potentially dangerous plant if he decides to eat it, but the sight of him is one to behold. He looks downright adorable. 

You have to focus though. You gently pat his hand. “Maybe later,” you say, and then you make your way to Karen’s desk to inspect the cookies.

Behind you, she calls your name. You twirl around. From the looks of it, she managed to get Foggy down from his chair, but he remains singing at the top of his lungs. All the signs point to one thing, and one thing only.

“Did you give my boyfriend weed cookies?” you sound a lot more condescending than you planned to. 

Karen shakes her head. Her face is pale, and she looks just as panicked as you do. “Those are not mine,” she says. 

“But you knew they were edibles?!”

“Of course, I didn’t! I started questioning it when Matt started cuddling the plant because his Braille felt like boobs and he didn't want to cheat on you, so he decided that he needed to touch some grass.” She points to him, exasperated. As if on cue, Matt lets out a happy little sigh.

Your brain struggles to process all of the information at once. “I’m sorry, what?”

“He said that his Braille feels like boobs. I don’t know! I thought he was messing with me until Foggy turned into Elphaba, and that’s when I took a bite and realized there was weed in them,” she says.

You groan, your worried eyes momentarily flicking back to your high boyfriend. High. That’s not a word you thought you would ever associate with him. “How did this happen?” you ask.

“Ms. Lebowsky, the lady next door, we helped her out the other day, and this morning, she gave me these cookies. I called her when these two started acting like idiots—more than usual, anyway. Turns out, she confused them with the ones her niece made for her birthday party tomorrow.”

“Her niece made edibles for her birthday party?”

“Please, don’t ask. I don’t have all the details. I just–”

“It’s fine,” you cut her off. “Just tell me that you’ve got Foggy under control.”

Karen peeks in through the window to his office. “More or less, yeah. You’ve got Matt?”

“Yeah, I’ve got him.”

You have to take care of him. He’s your responsibility. But as calm as he is right now, his heightened senses make the situation a lot more complex than the mere accidental consumption of edibles.

Walking over to him, you try to haul him up. He protests, at first, but then he feels the fabric of your shirt, and he slacks.

Matt wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. “You’re so soft,” he coos. “You smell like honey.”

With his entire weight on you, you have to widen your stance so you won’t fall over. His usually quick reflexes are nonexistent right now; he won’t be able to catch you if you trip, and then you’re both going to get hurt.

“You know what’s even softer?” you ask.

“The plant,” he answers confidently. He sounds like a more careless version of himself. You can’t deny that it does something to you.

“No, silly,” you chuckle softly, “I meant your bed.”

“Oh. But I’m not tired.”

“You’re high.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” You stroke his back. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

He stiffens and relaxes at the same time. You swear you can feel the electricity in his veins as his nerves respond to the feeling of your skin on his. It’s like he’s on fire. Like your touch feels a million times more intense, and he’s being crushed under the weight of it in a way that makes him crave more. 

He squeezes you tighter, trying to get swallowed by you, consumed to the point that you are the same person. The drugs are doing a number on him, and his already heightened sense of feeling has increased tenfold to the point you’re not sure if it’s pleasurable or painful or both. It must be agonizing, yet at the same time there is a high chance that the weed is calming his nerves and dampening his perception to the point he’s taking everything in without the added weight—he’s enjoying the newfound sensations in limbo, and he’s unaffected by it. You wonder how long that is going to last. 

After bidding farewell to Karen, wishing her good luck with Foggy who has now reached a point of his high where he’s lying on the floor, demanding to listen to Bohemian Rhapsody and cry over Freddie Mercury. She assures you that she has got it under control, apologizes again, and then sends you on your way.

“Bye, Karen,” Matt says. “You have very nice hair.” His hand tangles in yours, and his face lights up like a Christmas Tree. You managed to convince him to put his glasses on, at least, or he might get irritated. “Never mind,” his voice turns into a pur. 

Usually, you would shiver at his fingers in your hair, tracing the strands and sensually massaging your scalp only he knows how to, but today is not one of those days. You’re still concerned about the effects that the weed might have on him, so you want to be careful, although you’re not sure how much longer you can keep yourself from laughing. 

As you maneuver Matt through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, his cane hovers above the ground and his arm is hooked around yours. Without you, he would have run off into traffic by now. He has absolutely no spatial awareness anymore. 

Every sound, scent, and texture seems to capture his attention, but there's one sensation in particular that he can't seem to shake: thirst. You’re not even home yet, and you had to stop by a convenience store to get him a bottle of water. He shed his coat, which you are now carrying for him while also guiding him while simultaneously trying not to attract any unwanted attention. 

You can’t help but look at him as though he is your whole world. He is. He is everything to you, even high on edibles he never meant to consume, and acting like a feral toddler. If anything, you are even prouder now that he is yours. 

“Hey,” he whispers, leaning close to you, “do you think fire hydrants taste like licorice?”

You shake your head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Matt, don’t lick the fire hydrant.” 

He pouts. For a moment, you think that you have steered off any possible disaster, but that was only wishful thinking.

Matt’s curiosity knows no bounds, and he’s soon reaching out to touch anything that catches his eye. He runs his fingers along the rough brick foundation of a building, marveling at the texture, and he stops to sniff a flower, declaring, “This is the most beautiful flower I have ever smelled.”

You pluck it for him, and he carries it in the pocket of his coat with a happy smile. 

You’re both exhausted when you finally make it to his apartment. Getting his large frame through the door is one thing, stopping him from tearing the tap off the sink as he desperately searches for liquid with the words, “Water!” is another.

“Okay, okay,” you try to calm him. You grab a bottle from the fridge, open it for him, and force him to take it. “Drink.”

One touch is enough for him to drop it. “It’s cold,” he recoils in agony.

You sigh. “Tap water it is, then.”

You have never seen him down so many glasses of water. He is severely dehydrated and sensitive to changes in temperature. It’s either too hot or too cold, and you’re so glad that Karen texted you when she did.

You manage to get him to the couch with some snacks that he devours within seconds. If he moves one more inch today, you may not be able to catch him again.

His lip twitches. “Chickens don’t have any arms.”

You pause in the process of wrapping him in a blanket, staring blankly ahead at him. “Excuse me?” you ask.

“Chickens don’t have any arms,” Matt states. “Every American citizen has the right to bear arms under the second amendment in the constitution. If an egg was fertilized on US soil, and the chicken hatched there as well, technically, that makes them a citizen of the United States of America, therefore allowing tiny creatures without arms the right to bear arms, but who gives the bears their arms?” 

You’re so flabbergasted that the absurdity of the situation eludes you. The words process only slowly in your mind, and when they do, they cause a wave of confusion to wash over you before it turns into genuine amusement, and it takes every ounce of self-control to keep yourself from laughing at him.

You can pinpoint the exact second the thought escapes his mind and something else replaces it. His hand brushes over the leather couch. “Smooth,” he observes. You haven’t even fully processed his very philosophical question about the animal kingdom before he drops his cheek down on the couch.

The man who has been carrying the weight of the world in bricks on his back for years is finally relaxed; it shouldn’t leave such a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

You kneel in front of him, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Do you need anything?” you ask.

Matt’s gaze is filled with an odd sort of clarity. “Nah. Just you,” he mumbles.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you brush a sweaty strand of hair away from his forehead. "I'm right here," you reassure him. 

He nods, his eyelids drooping as the effects of the edibles start to take their toll. “Good.” He searches for your hand, and you help him intertwine your fingers. A giddy smile finds its way onto his face. “You’re warm.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “And you’re high,” you tease.

Matt huffs out a breathy laugh. “Mmh, yeah,” he says. “But it’s okay. ‘Cause you’re here.”

Despite the chaos and the unexpected turn of events, there’s a sense of contentment settling over you as you watch him drift off into a state of bliss. He deserves it more than anyone. 

You stay by his side, watching over him as he succumbs to the pull of sleep that you’re all too familiar with after a sudden high. 

“Note to self,” you say to yourself, “never eat a stranger’s cookies without drug testing them first.”

And love has funny ways of making even the most absurd moments feel strangely beautiful.

Matt Murdock Tag List: @littlenerdyravenclaw @yarrystyleeza @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @thatonegamefish @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattkinsella @itwasthereaminuteago @linamarr @gpenguin666 @acharliecoxedfan

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil x reader #reader insert #from the vault #charlie cox #weed cookies

[eveomo]

virgin green - levi x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ synopsis : after dating for 3 years, levi finally decides to indulge in your... habit

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ warnings : recreational drug use, brief nsfw mention, swearing

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ contains : modern!au , levi x reader , gn!reader , no use of y/n

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ wc : 1.0k

it was early june, and the earth was beginning to embrace the warmth of spring, much like levi was currently embracing yours. 

you were both laid on the couch, the soft whirring of a fan relaxing you both after a long day of running errands, the incoming summer heat exhausting you both. his head was resting on your chest as he laid on top of your body, softly sighing as your fingers explored his undercut, tracing shapes into his scalp. 

the feeling of his head moving attracts your attention and you open your eyes and gaze down at him, meeting his eyes. he doesn’t say anything, but a look flashes in his eyes.

“penny for your thoughts?” you hum, tucking some fallen strands of his hair behind his ear.

“well?” levi replies, bringing his hand from your side to cup it just slightly above his head. 

you blink once, twice, before you realize what he means

“i don’t- why the fuck would i have a penny?” you laugh out, the soft vibrations of your voice sending a blazing warmth through levi’s body.

“then why the fuck would you offer one?” he deadpans, a teasing look glinting in his irises. 

“it’s just an expressi-“ you stop and sigh, bringing your hand to your face to briefly cover your eyes in exasperation.  “you know what i mean levi, just tell me what’s on your mind.”

“i want to smoke with you.”

what?

you were transparent with him from the beginning that you smoked weed; it had never been an issue for him but he made it clear he did not want to partake in your smoke seshes. he would sit with you, of course, but would never ask for a bowl or a hit of your blunts. it wasn’t an issue for you, content to enjoy the hazy, warm feeling it would envelop your body in alone. 

you understood, given his upbringing you had assumed initially that he would have looked for someone else due to your… reliance on the substance, but he surprised you instead with his lackadaisical reaction toward the subject. while you were fine smoking alone, there had always been a part of you that wanted him to experience it with you, too. 

“…really?” there was a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, and levi let out a soft laugh. 

“yes, really. i’m just… curious,” levi spoke mindfully, choosing his words carefully. 

he was never one for big displays of what he wanted, usually just hinting at what he wanted. this time around, you caught on instantly. 

“curious? or tired of not being able to fuck me when i’m high?” you teased, knowing full well how much it pissed him off when you’d get needy while high. not because he was upset that you were high, he was upset that he couldn’t touch you. 

“fuck off and pack me a bowl.” he scoffed and sat up, pushing himself off of the couch. 

“really? you don’t want to start with a joint?” you quirked an eyebrow. 

he shrugged his shoulders, and crossed his arms, wearing an expression of boredom. 

“okay.” you shrugged back and went to grab your grinder and bong. 

—

the two of you were now sat on the deck, shoulder to shoulder on the small outdoor loveseat you’d thrifted when first moving in. you packed his bowl— a brimmer. 

“if you’re gonna toke you’re gonna toke the right way!” you announced playfully as he rolled his eyes, taking the bong from you. 

“okay, hold it there- yeah, perfect. when you see the cherry sink-“

“the fuck is a cherry?” levi interrupts you, and you feign offense. 

“i have failed you as a partner. three years together and you don’t even know your terminology…” you sigh sadly, shaking your head back and forth as he scoffs. 

“whatever, keep talking.” he demands, fidgeting with the beaded bracelets you’d decorated your glass piece with. 

“okay well- the cherry is the part that gets pulled into the chamber when you smoke, like when it goes from quiet bubbles to loud bubbles, you get me?” he stared at you blankly, before replying. 

“..sure.”

your explanation may not have been the best, you decided to have two bowls to yourself before smoking levi up. 

“your fault for not paying attention when i was toking,” you blew a raspberry at him before continuing. “anyway, when you sink it, pull the bowl and keep inhaling until the chamber is clear, okay? i’ll light it for you.”

levi hummed in agreement before a long exhale, ‘at least he learned one thing from watching me’ you thought to yourself before flicking the lighter above the packed bowl. 

levi began to inhale, the orange ember travelling down the bowl until it sank into the water sitting at the bottom. levi pulled on the bowl and-

oh no

he pulled out the fucking downstem.

levi’s eyes widened before all the smoke left his lungs and mouth with a cough, saliva dripping out of his mouth. you quickly grabbed the bong before he dropped it, rubbing his back as he coughed. 

“jesus christ levi, i said pull the bowl not the fucking downstem!” you chided him before reaching for the water bottle on the wooden table in front of you both. 

“fuck *hack* off.” he said through coughs, darting to the railing so he could spit out the saliva filling his mouth. 

he sat back down and took the water bottle from your hands, gulping it down to soothe the fire in his throat. 

“you fucking do this for fun?” he asked, wiping the tears pricking from the corners of his eyes as he continued to let out small coughs. 

“it’s fun when you pull the fucking bowl properly, dumbass.” you flick his forehead and he glares at you, a pinkish hue replacing the whites of his eyes. all of a sudden, his eyes widen and he stares at you.

“oh.” is all he can manage to say before you both burst out laughing, tears threatening to escape from the corners of his eyes. you take his hand and lead him back inside, shutting the glass door behind you while levi stands there wobbling.

“yeah.. maybe a half bowl would’ve been fine,” you giggle and place a kiss on his cheek before resting your head in the crook of his neck, sighing softly as your body slowly is enveloped in a buzzing warmth. levi’s hands crawl down your sides before resting on your hips, steadying himself. 

“my mouth is so fucking dry.”

this is one of the most self-indulgent things ive ever written in my LIIIIFEEE also i wrote this instead of finishing the first chapter of my fic im working on LMFAO

anyways i hope u guys enjoyed this!! pls reblog if u did <3!

#divider by cafekitsune #attack on titan #levi ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #captain levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #levi aot #levi ackerman x reader #levi fluff #levi ackerman smokes weed for the first time #levi ackerman aot #levi ackerman snk #i love levi ackerman #snk #aot #aot x reader

[sage-green-matcha]

SMOKE SLOW - ETHAN LANDRY 🚬

“So take your time while you’re mine and smoke slow” - Joshua Bassett

Content includes: marijuana/smoking that’s it idk 😭 also this is a Drabble? Mini story..? Enjoy!

<3

<3

<3

Ethan was shocked when he saw what you pulled out of your pocket at Chad's party. But at the same time, it wasn't unexpected, especially from you.

He watched as you rolled up the herb into the paper, licking it and rolling it closed. You lit the end, placing it onto your lips, taking a deep breath in, the burning plant entering your lungs. You blew out a cloud of smoke, handing the blunt to Anika.

He watched as it was passed around, Tara bumping his shoulder. "I...I'm not sure how to smoke it?" "I'm not surprised" Anika laughed. "Don't judge him, it's okay I'll teach you. Just take it to your lips" he did as you told him, the blunt in between his two fingers.

"Good, now suck it like.." you laughed, not knowing how to explain it. "Yea, inhale it into your lungs" he inhaled, his eyebrows furrowed with an uncomfortable expression on his face. "Okay hold it! Hold it" You waited a couple of seconds before instructing him to exhale. He let out a couple coughs, his eyes watered with tears. "Don't worry, that was good you'll get it" he smiled up at you.

The blunt was passed around a couple more times, Ethan with it in hand once again. "Okay try it again, you can do it" he felt some type of way when you praised him, shaking it off as he inhaled. This time he did do it right, smoke escaping from his lips. "See? I told you you'd get it"

The blunt was almost gone, and so was everyone in the circle. "Who wants to shotgun?" You asked, Anika, rolling her eyes. "I have a girlfriend" "What's that?" Ethan asked, eyes a light red color. "I'll show you, come here" you patted the spot next to you.

"Okay, soo...I'm gonna exhale it, and you have to inhale it from my mouth, then we kiss? Yea?" Kiss? He thought, kiss you? He nodded anyways. His face was flushed pink, heart beating faster as you inhaled.

You took his face into your hands, holding his jaw so he would look at you. He opened his mouth slightly, inhaling the air that you were letting out. It looked like he was sucking out your soul, the smoke transferring from one mouth to the other.

He exhaled, the smoke trailing from his lips. "Now kiss!" Tara laughed, clapping with a smile. You leaned into him, closed eyes as you placed a kiss on his lips. You deepened it, the taste of smoke light lingering in your mouths.

"Not bad, Landry" You pulled away, the sound of the kiss still lingering in his brain. His mind felt fuzzy, his body relaxed as you leaned against his shoulder. "Hey! Anika...are you high?" Mindy's hands were on her hips, an annoyed expression on her face. "Yea! You should've joined us" she giggled, looking up at her girlfriend.

"Okay, we're going home. But I'll see you stoners later" she smiled, Tara waving as you let out a small goodbye, Anika following behind her. You turned your head slowly at Tara, her phone ringing in her lap. "It's fucking Sam" she grumbled, leaving to take the call somewhere else.

"So, how's the first high?" You asked, a small laugh coming from your lips. "I feel weird" Ethan mumbled, eyes almost shut. You scooted down against him, hugging his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulder. "You're warm" you mumbled against his chest, eyes barely opened.

"That was weird, ew sorry" you laughed into his chest. You took the blunt back to your lips, inhaling harshly before blowing the smoke up, the cloud hitting his face. You felt Ethan adjusting himself, placing a kiss on your head before stealing the blunt from your fingers. "Hey..."

"Sharing is caring Y/n/n"

#fanfic #cute #celebrities #ethan landry #scream #avatar #ethan landry smut #jack champion #jack champion x reader #romantic killer #jack champion oneshot #jack champion x y/n #jack champion scream #jack champion fanfic #jack champion fluff #girls who smoke weed #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fluff #scream 6 smut #scream smut #scream 2022 #scream franchise #scream vi #scream movies #scream 6 #joshua bassett #men who smoke

[princesssmars]

DEALER!ELLIE

#she puts this on her close friends #after adding you #would leave you on read if you said get me outta this thing #ellie #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #dealer!ellie #carts is weed right

[tomssexdoll]

omgg write a fluff w tom/ bill where him and the reader are high outta their minds that would lowk be hilarious it could also be a little smutty in the end 👀

HAHAHA YESSS

Stoned

PAIRINGS: Tom 2007 x Female reader CONTENT: FLUFF + SMUT (just a bit) SYPNOSIS: Y/N and Tom are high as FUCK, they are friends and she comes over to his house to try this "new" thing he has. She assumes it's some sort of drug or weird guitar solo, they watch movies, cuddle and at the end get a lil bit freaky... A/N: haven't been high in over a year so don't bash me if i get the feeling wrong, it's from what i remember lmao WARNINGS: teasing, kissing, drug use (weed)

Me and Tom have been best friends for over 10 years, he has been my rock, supporting me through everything. He never changed, always hanging out with me, showing me off to new friends. He was amazing.

One day he called me and said he had something to show me, something "new" he wanted to try out with me. I immediately knew it was a drug or a weird guitar solo, he is full of surprises I guess.

I got into my car and started to drive to his house, wondering what stupid thing was going to consume my day.

I arrived eventually and greeted Tom, hugging him tightly and walking inside, sitting in his room. He came in with a little baggie of what looked like weed, he handed it to me and I sighed "Tom this is a lot of weed, do you plan to smoke it all tonight?" he chuckled "no of course not, if we like it we can try it again at the party next week" he rummaged through his draws, pulling out a small black bong, decorated with skulls.

"Wowww real edgy" I rolled my eyes playfully, he laughed and slapped my arm playfully "shut up it was on sale, i'm not spending 50 fucking dollars for a small bong."

I stood up and grabbed the grinder that went with is, putting the bud in there and grinding it down, once it was finished I grabbed the bong, packing some of the weed in there.

"Wow you really know how to do this huh?" he smirked, admiring what I did. "Well my brother smokes and it's not like I haven't done it before so.." I shrugged and grabbed the lighter, sparking it and hovering the flame over the bud, sucking in the smoke. (did i just give you guys a tutorial..)

I inhaled it, feeling it burn the back of my throat but in a nice way, a familiar feeling to when I smoked cigarettes. "Fuck..that's some good shit..where did you get it from" I blew the smoke out, starting to get the effects already.

My head a bit woozy, eyes drooping ever so slightly and everything becoming a bit more brighter. I looked back at Tom, finishing the rest of the cone, the way he threw his head back when inhaling was so sexy..the way his lips slightly parted and his eyes slowly shut.

"I got it from Greg, you know, Janes older brother" he looked back at me, blowing out the smoke as well. "Oh.." I said slowly "well it's not dodgy weed I'll tell you that" I giggled.

Everything was a bit slower, my talking, movements. It felt wonderful, like I was as light as a feather.

"Let's have some more, cmon" he scooted closer to me and we had 3 more cones each, it was hitting hard now, things were much more slower, I looked down at my hands and they were slightly out of focus, like I had 4 hands.

I got up from his bed and grabbed his hand, going towards the kitchen and raiding his pantry, grabbing all the snacks I could find and a few cans of soda. I sat down and dropped everything onto the coffee table, laying down next to him, resting my head on his lap, "should we order pizza.." he mumbled, I nodded slowly and grabbed my phone, dialing the store and ordering 2 large pizzas, one cheese and one meat lovers.

"Fuck..we are gonna feast" he chuckled, his eyes super red and droopy, I smiled and picked a movie to watch.

After 45 minutes our pizza FINALLY ARRIVED. I ran to the door and quickly gave the pizza guy the cash, slamming the door and almost tripping trying to get back to the couch, "fuck!" I yelped, Tom just laughed and grabbed one of the boxes, stuffing his face with pizza.

"Mmm...so good" he groaned, I grabbed a slice and ate it, savouring the taste "has pizza ever tasted this good?" I said, it was like they put magic into it, usually pizza was mid but this time it was amazing. Our movie was ending soon, we picked a horror, which was kinda dumb because we were so high.

I sat up and held him tightly at the suspense, screaming and hiding my face into his arm when the jumpscare popped up "jesus" he chuckled "it wasn't that bad" I rolled my eyes and softly shoved him "shut up..wasn't even scary.." I mumbled

By the time we had finished 3 movies everything was DEVOURED. We decided to chill for a bit, have a talk and enjoy each others company. I layed down on the couch and he spooned me from behind, holding me close.

Usually we'd always cuddle, it was never weird to us but this time, the tension was super high. Not even in a bad way, it's like the air was thicker...the way his arms were wrapped around me and his face pressed softly on the top of my head made me feel some kind of way.

I turned around and looked up at him, it's like in that moment, we were the only people alive. His eyes washed over with desire and love, surprising me. "You know, you are so beautiful y/n, you're the most beautiful girl i've ever seen" he smiled softly, brushing a hair away from my face.

"Yeah whatever, I'm sure you tell every girl you hook up with that.." I rolled my eyes, secretly enjoying the praise. "No, y/n..I mean it, you are so beautiful" he leaned closer, our lips basically inches away.

"Tom..." my breathing hitched slightly, searching his eyes for deciet but all I saw was sincerity, love and compassion, I smiled softly, blush creeping onto my cheeks.

"I want to kiss you.." he whispered, his breath hot on my lips.

"ok pizza breath.." I giggled and leaned in, kissing him gently. He kissed back, wrapping his hand around to the back of my head and pulling me closer, locking our lips into a passionate embrace. His kisses got more urgent, his erection becoming prominent in his pants, pressing up against my leg.

"See how you make me feel? You drive me crazy" he moaned against my lips, slipping his tongue in my mouth. I reached my hand down and softly palmed his clothed cock, making him groan softly.

His hands snaked down to my waist, then to my ass, squeezing it softly. Then, his hand came back up, slipping under my shirt and grabbing my breasts, rubbing his thumb over my nipple, sending shivers down my spine.

I had grabbed one of his shirts earlier, removing my bra since you weren't able to see much anyway, it was getting a bit hot so I changed my outfit.

"My shirt looks so good on you..might have to fuck you in it" he mumbled, grinning widely.

I chuckled "we'll see about that", I rolled us over, flipping me on top of him, deepening the kiss.

#tom kaulitz #tokiohotel #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x y/n #tokio hotel smut #tomkaulitztokiohotel #tom kaulitz smut #2000s #late 2000s #y2k #i love tommy #i love him #cannabis #bud #smoke weed everyday #smoking #tom kaulitz fluff #fluff #smut #female reader #x reader #fem reader

[moonstruckme]

Could I request something for Steve harrington x reader? I’d love to read something in which they get high together and at first they’re having fun and so but then reader starts to feel uncomfortable and it’s like no more fun for her and she’s scared that she’ll experience a bad trip and he’s trying his best to comfort her in his state

Or the other way around so that Steve’s the one getting scared would also be so interesting to read⭐️🧚

Thanks for requesting!

cw: weed

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 762 words

When you come back downstairs with the freshly delivered box of pizza warm and fragrant with grease in your hands, you’re not sure you’ve ever been so deeply content in your life. 

“Steve,” you announce, “this is about to be the best meal you’ve had in your entire life.” 

Your boyfriend twists around on the sofa to see you, and you’re not sure if you were expecting applause, exactly, but it’s a bit dissatisfying when he frowns. 

“How long is it gonna take for the smell to get out of here?” Steve asks. 

You shrug. The movement feels loose and pleasantly heavy, just like the rest of you. “We can probably air it out in a couple hours if you want to. What, worried your parents are gonna suddenly start caring what you do?” 

His frown worsens. “I dunno, what if they do? The only time they ever got really pissed was when I spilled punch on the couch. I don’t want to get weed smell in the carpet or whatever.” 

“It barely smells in here,” you laugh. “It won’t stick around, trust me.” 

You set the pizza down on the coffee table and flop back onto the couch beside him. Everything about Steve is especially nice right now, even the tickle of his leg hair against your thigh, and you tilt your head up to kiss softly at his jaw. 

Still, the frown persists. 

You try to rally your most can-do energy. Steve so naturally takes the lead in most situations, it’s tough for you to remember that you’re both in your wheelhouse right now. You’re the only one of you who has experience being high, and you’d encouraged him when he asked about it, so it’s your job to fix him. 

“Listen,” you say, keeping your voice light as meringue, “the smell usually goes away pretty fast, but we can totally air it out if it’d make you feel better.” Steve relaxes slightly, and you dot more kisses along his jaw to help the process along. “I won’t let you get in trouble. Don’t get paranoid on me, baby.” 

You know you’ve said something wrong when his breathing pauses. 

“Is that something that happens a lot?” 

Shit. “No, no,” you amend quickly. “It’s not common, and you’re not the kind of person who would anyways. Let’s just eat our pizza before it gets cold, okay?” 

“What’s the kind of person that would?” 

You laugh. It slips out of you like your windpipe’s been oiled up, easy and natural as breathing. “Stevie, baby.” You turn your body towards him and take his face in your hands, looking him deep in his eyes. They’re really pretty, the soft brown made darker by the low light of the basement and his blown pupils, and it takes you a few heartbeats to remember what you wanted to say. “You’re fine, okay? You’ll feel so much better if you eat some pizza, I promise.” 

Something in Steve’s expression eases. He looks back at you with a mixture of tenderness and amusement. “You’re like a dog with a bone about this pizza,” he observes, and you grin. 

“Have you smelled it?” 

“Mhm, it smells good.” 

“That’s the smell we should be talking about, is all I’m saying.” 

He sighs and tips forward until his head rests against your shoulder, fluffy hair tickling the underside of your jaw. “Sorry, I’m not trying to be a bummer.” 

“You’re not a bummer,” you tell him earnestly, petting the back of his head. You feel warm, both from the toasty basement and something soft and mushy inside you. “I’m just trying to keep you from spiraling out. You can trust me, you know?” 

“I know.” Steve takes a breath, turning his head to the side so his exhale blows hot against your neck and you can hear him clearly when he says, “You never usually call me baby.” 

Now you feel warmer than warm. “No?”

“Nope. You’re saying it a lot today.” 

“Well, pot makes me sappy.” 

Steve chuckles, his back shaking. He turns so he’s looking up at you. You brush a hair away from his eye. 

“Don’t usually play with my hair so much, either.”

“You don’t usually let me,” you counter. 

He hums. “I’m rethinking my priorities.” 

You laugh, and he smiles. It blooms over his face slow and warm like a sunrise. You weave your fingers in close to his scalp. 

“I want you to feel better,” you whisper dotingly, “but I still really want the pizza.” 

“Feed it to me? I don’t feel like moving.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x self insert #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fandom #stranger things x reader #tw weed

[cosmicanakin]

lavender haze.

mature content!

pairing. vinnie hacker x female reader.

outline. you reconnect with vinnie after some time apart, over shared smoke under the stars.

contains. smoking, marijuana, fluff, cuddling, college workload, vinnie being your stress reliever.

authors note. getting high with him is on my bucket list.

you sighed contentedly as you curled further into vinnie’s side, basking in his warmth on the chilly autumn evening. clad in a cozy yet casual outfit of your own — a long-sleeved black top with a low neckline, paired with soft gray sweatpants and pink uggs slippers — you felt relaxed yet put together for your reunion with vinnie. around your neck hung a delicate silver necklace bearing his initial, a gift from your first anniversary together.

his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders while your fingers traced nonsensical patterns on his chest through his black purgatory hoodie. the sun was setting over the hills in a spectacular orange glow, but you were perfectly happy just drinking in vinnie’s company after too long apart.

“i missed this,” you murmured into his neck, savoring the familiar woodsy scent of his cologne. it had been over a month since your last proper date night/cuddle session due to midterms and assignments piling up at school. video calls simply weren't the same as feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your palm.

vinnie’s lips pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering more than usual in an unspoken “i missed this too.” his eyes drowned in affection when you peered up at him, thumb brushing your cheek softy. “i’m just glad my busy bee finally has a break. now we can catch up properly.”

you grinned, nudging his side playfully. “well, i think a certain someone promised me something to help with said catching up...” vinnie snorted, fishing in his pocket to produce a familiar plastic baggie and rolling papers.

“as my girl commands,” he teased, placing a quick peck on your lips before sitting up to prepare. the sun was dipping below the horizon now, casting everything in a rosy glow that highlighted his delicate features as he worked. you took a moment to admire how far you’d come - just over a year ago this perfect boy was an online face you watched from afar, never imagining the sweet bond you'd form.

your smile stretched with giddiness at the memory, distracting vinnie until he booped your nose with his finger playfully. “quit staring creep, help me out here will ya?” rolling your eyes fondly, you set to assisting in grinding the fluffy green buds and tucking them into a clean paper.

once the joint was prepared to perfection, vinnie glanced to the darkening sky and said softly, “we should light up soon before it gets too cold out.” it was then you realized the sharp night breeze had picked up, nipping at any exposed skin and causing you to shiver slightly.

your boyfriend peered at your reaction and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “baby, why didn't you say you were cold? here...” he hesitated, before tugging the beanie off his head. “this should warm those ears right up.”

melting into a puddle at his thoughtfulness, you let him gently tug the knit hat down over your head, engulfing your senses in his warm cotton and woodsy scent. “babe, are you sure? now you'll be cold...”

he waved off your concern, draping an arm back around your waist to tug you firmly into his side once more. “nah, i run hot remember? ‘sides, looks cuter on you anyway.” you giggled and burrowed into his chest, fingers fiddling with the soft fuzz of the beanie adoringly.

vinnie struck the lighter with an expert flick, watching the flame catch on rolling paper until it glowed faintly purple at the tip. taking a long pull, he held the smoke in his lungs for a beat before exhaling a billowing cloud towards the darkening sky. you followed suit, feeling tension instantly melt from your shoulders as a pleasant haze settled over your thoughts.

snuggling deeper into your boyfriend’s embrace, you soaked in the lingering sunset glow and the earthy notes of high grass on your tongues. chilled air no longer bothered you wrapped in vinnie’s steady warmth - inside and out. finally, after far too many days apart, you felt yourself relax fully for the first time in weeks.

he seemed to feel it too; his thumb resumed its idle caress along your arm as relaxed sighs puffed against your hair. neither said a word, too content just absorbing the presence and comfort of each other’s company after the long separation. this was the calm and closeness you craved, needs now sated in each other’s arms under dusk’s rosy light.

the joint was long gone by the time twilight settled fully into muted indigo tones overhead. languid and fuzzy from smoke, you tilted your chin up with a soft hum, finding vinnie already peering down at you with hooded affection. his lips brushed yours tenderly, sweet, and slow like crawling into a cozy bed after being on your feet all day.

this was home - his embrace, his care, his love. you melted further into every ounce, heart fit to burst as his arms cradled you more securely in the chilly night. no amount of distance or time apart could diminish the perfection of moments like these, nurturing your bond back to full bloom once more. nothing in the world felt quite as calming or right as cuddling safely in vinnie’s adoring hold.

#﹙ kari writes 𝜗𝜚 ﹚ #vinnie #vinnie hacker #vinniehacker #vhackerr #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker x female reader #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie blurb #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker fanfiction #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie imagines #vinnie x reader #vinnie x y/n #tw weed #tw smoking

[jayflrt]

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 uncut: happy weedsgiving

SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he's stoned off his ass.

back to the masterlist

#don't tell the other characters but i have the most fun writing ab the weed wednesday gc #enhypen #enhypen smau #heeseung smau #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #enhypen imagines #lee heeseung #enhypen social media au #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios #enhypen drabbles #heeseung drabbles #enhypen reactions #heeseung reactions

[lyn-1225]

Full Control

Pairing: Carl Gallagher x fem!reader

Warnings: Weed, Fluff, slight angst, medical mentions.

Word count: 4600

A/N: this imagine took me awhile to make. I’ve been putting it off along with all of the other imagines I have ideas for and am writing. Now that it’s out I hope you enjoy it :)

——————————————————————

Your POV:

The first person that I thought of was kev.

I knew he’d have what I was looking for.

I didn’t even know why I was looking for it. I’d never done it before let alone wanted to try it, but for some reason the idea of trying weed came into my head.

The Gallaghers always seemed to be doing it and they all seemed fine afterwards. That’s one of the reason I was afraid to try it. I was afraid of what It would do to me.

Even though I was underage, I walked into the Alibi walking straight up to the counter.

Kev was pouring a drink for one of the older men at the counter. “What’s up y/n” Kev greets me passing the drink to the man that was weirdly staring at me.

Feeling uncomfortable I scooted away from him turning my head back to Kev. “Can I talk to you” I ask messing around with my fingers.

“Yeah sure what’s going on?” He asks wiping down the counter a bit. “In private” I slightly whisper pointing my head to the back door.

Getting the hint he nods his head taking the lead to the back door. I follow after him feeling like I’m about to make a drug deal even though I wasn’t.

Closing the door behind me I turn to face him. He looks at me with a confused look wondering why I wanted to talk.

“What’s up?” He asked crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was wondering” I start trying to find the words I wanted to use next.

“If you had any edibles” I asked waiting for the ridicule I was about to get.

“I do but it’s not going to you” he says using a sort of harsh tone. He starts to walk away towards the back door making me run after him.

“Oh come on please” I plead grabbing his arm to turn him around.

“No absolutely not! I’m not giving a 15 year old weed” he yells trying to convince himself not to do it.

“I’ve never tried it before, and you were the first person I thought of” I sigh letting go of his arm.

“I was?” He asks turning back to me with a glint of surprise in his eyes.

“Yes. You were” I nod my head feeling ashamed that i was even having this conversation.

He looks conflicted with himself as he internally battled his decisions.

“Fuck” he swears throwing his hands to his head rubbing the small hairs on his head roughly.

“Fine! Fine” he yells finally giving in to my request.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you” I squeak running into his arms before hugging his waist. I squeeze his abdomen jumping up and down.

“Here” he says handing me a cookie that’s in a plastic bag.

“I was gonna save it for later but I guess you can have it” he sighs as I take the cookie from his hand.

I go to question why he had it on him but before I could he walked back into the Alibi leaving me confused.

Quickly shoving the cookie in my pocket i start to walk down the street to the Gallagher house.

I couldn’t help feel like cops were staring at me. People around here carry drugs on them all the time. I don’t know why I’m so paranoid. Maybe it’s because I’ve never done this before. I’m a goody two shoes what can I say.

I take a turn making a short cut through someone’s lawn before heading down the street towards the one house I felt comfortable in.

The Gallagher house.

More specifically a Gallagher boy that lived in the Gallagher house.

The house comes closer into view making me slightly excited yet extremely nervous.

I had no idea what was gonna happen to me but I was excited to finally get to know what the experience was like.

Coming face to face with the fence I open the door walking straight to the stair case with a hint of fear.

What if I did something stupid?

What if I said something stupid?

The door to the house opened as soon as I took ahold of the handle which meant someone was home. Either that or someone broke in.

Carls military hat was thrown to the side of the room collecting dust next to the window.

Carls home.

Doing a quick knock on the door frame I shut the door behind me maneuvering my way through the living room.

“Carl?” I yell into the house looking around to see where he was.

“In here!” He called back the sound bouncing off the old walls of the house.

I couldn’t exactly pinpoint where he was but it sounded like it came from Fiona’s room.

“Where?” I yell back walking into the kitchen trying to search for any trace of him.

“I’m right here” he laughs walking out of the bathroom just off the the side of the kitchen.

He has is military pants on, the belt undone with him redoing it. His plain beige t-shirt tucked in perfectly to show off his arms and upper body muscles.

“Damn I thought you were upstairs” I chuckle realizing how off I was. I knew I had trouble hearing sometimes but was I really that bad?

“Sorry babe but you were way off” he comments walking over to me standing in the middle of the kitchen.

I move over towards the counter resting my body against it. He walks closer to me with a smirk on his face closing my body in with his arms.

“What’s up” he asks looking from my eyes to my lips. A blush forms on my face as I remember the real reason I was there.

“I got an edible from Kev today” I immediately say getting straight to the point on why I was there.

Well, It wasn’t the only reason why I was there. I wanted to see him of course, but I wanted to be here with him just in case something happened to me.

Obviously I wasn’t thinking something bad would happen but in this day and age you never know anymore.

His facial expression changes from flirty to serious really quick. He never thought in his entire life that he would hear those sorts of words leave my mouth.

“For who?” He asked standing up a bit straighter. The look in his eye showed that he wasn’t fucking around. He was starting to get protective and I knew it.

“For me” I say looking anywhere but him. I was nervous to say the least. I told him that I wanted to try weed because I wanted to see what the experience was like. That was a few years ago though. I only mentioned it once.

“Are you serious?” He asks the shock in his voice showing very clearly. I could tell that he didn’t want me to do it. I knew him to well to not know his tone changes.

“Would you be mad if I said yes” I question turning my head back towards his stiff figure. He seems to be… scared.

Why is he scared?

His eyes stare at me with such intensity that makes me rethink my decision.

“Um” he starts clearing his throat. He runs a hand through his hair turning back toward the kitchen sink.

“Are you sure about this” he asks looking back at me. The look in his eye shows so many emotions that I couldn’t keep up.

“Yes I’m sure” I say pulling the cookie out of my pocket placing it beside me on the counter.

He moves over to me picking the bag up to inspect it. He opens the ziplock bag taking a small whiff of the cookie inside.

His face slightly twists before he closes the bag back up placing it back on the counter.

“Shit you weren’t kidding” he sighs leaning up against the same counter I was leaning against.

“Ok cut the bull shit why are you acting so weird about this” i ask cutting the tension between us with my words.

“It’s just” he starts cutting himself off mid sentence.

I nod my head urging him to continue on with what he was going to say.

“I just don’t want you to get addicted to it and end up doing it everyday” he responds picking the cookie bag back up spinning it around in his hands.

“Trust me after this I think I’ll be done with it” I say the truth to the situation coming out.

I genuinely meant that too. I mean I didn’t want to turn out like Frank or Monica. A one time experience was plenty enough for me.

“Promise?” He asks looking up at me with hope on his face.

“Promise” I say trying my best to reassure him. He nods his head grabbing the bag before opening it and taking the cookie out.

The smell of the cookie hits me like a wave. The stench of skunk fills my nose making me want to gag.

“Holy shit that stinks” I gag putting my hand over my nose. I’m glad I sprayed perfume on my wrist this morning.

He laughs at my comment tearing off about a quarter of the cookie.

“The strong smell means there’s more weed in it. You don’t need more than this” he says handing me the quarter that he tore off.

Taking the part of the cookie that he handed me I take a small whiff immediately regretting it.

“Does it taste like how it smells?” I asks looking up at Carl who’s putting the rest of the cookie back in the bag.

“You’ll see” he smirks putting the bag back on the counter.

“Your not gonna have any?” I ask ripping my piece into two.

Normally he would jump at the opportunity to smoke a joint. Maybe edibles is different?

“Nah I gotta be sober for this” he laughs telling me the truth on why he wasn’t having any.

I laugh as well, the nerves in my body start to over take my movements.

“I’ll be ok right?” I ask a hint of worry in my voice. I was scared shitless.

“Yes I promise you will be fine” he chuckles his eyes giving me the reassurance that I needed.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks wanting me to say it one more time just to make sure.

“Yes I’m sure” I smile taking the first half in my mouth, the bitter and gross taste overtaking my tastebuds.

Why does it taste like this?

The scrunch of my face shows my distaste for the part of the cookie I just ate.

Carls laughter pulls me out of my focus on the taste. I look at him seeing him leaning against the counter with an amused look on his face.

“Taste good doesn’t it? You ” he asks crossing his arms over his chest.

“Tasty” I sarcastically say shoving the other half of the cookie in my mouth so that I could hurry up and get it over with.

I chew the food just enough so that I wouldn’t choke before swallowing it.

The aftertaste left on my tongue lingers making my mouth taste grosser than the actual cookie.

“How long until it’s supposed to kick in?” I ask Carl walking over to the cupboard to grab a glass.

I grab the glass filling it up with some water so that I could get the taste out of my mouth.

“Normally it takes about and hour or two” he says turning to where I was now standing.

I nod my head taking little sips of the water the taste still there but slightly getting washed away.

Now that I’ve eaten the cookie I was even more terrified. There was no going back now.

“I’m terrified” I confess walking into the living room holding the cup to my chest.

“Why?” Carl asks following behind me with his hands in his pant pockets.

“I don’t know it’s just-” I cut off landing onto the couch with a small huff.

He follows my lead falling down on the other side of the couch. He pulls my legs up and onto his thighs undoing my shoe laces.

“Im afraid that I won’t be able to have control over myself” I sigh looking towards his figure.

He continues to undo my shoe laces nodding his head intently listening to me.

Once the shoelaces are un-tied he takes my shoes off placing them next to the couch and out of the way.

“Thank you” I smile wiggling my toes under my black socks. He chuckles at my childish behavior placing his hands on my feet slightly rubbing them.

“You don’t have to do that” I smile feeling the soreness in my feet go away as he works his hands into my skin.

“I’m trying to help you relax” he says continuing his actions. “I promise you that you will have control over yourself” he says working into the heels of my feet.

“Is that based on experience” i ask trying to make sure that I keep my mind busy. “Yes it is” he smiles turning to look at me.

He takes his hands off my feet placing my legs back down on the floor. He crawls closer to my side of the couch laying down to where his face would be on my stomach. I move my legs back up on the couch opening them in a v so that he could place his legs between them.

He crawls up to me slightly leaning up on his knees that we’re currently in between my legs a few inches away from my inner thighs.

“You’ll be ok” he reassures me placing a small kiss to my forehead before leaning onto my body making sure to not put to much weight on me.

He lays his head on my chest wrapping his arms around my waist. Placing my hands in his hair I mess around with his soft brown locks interlocking my right leg with his left.

We sit in silence letting our minds clear of any worry or thoughts. The only thing we pay attention to is the sounds of the cars passing on the streets and the rhythm of each others breathing.

“I remember the first time I ever got high” he says leaning his head up so that his chin was resting on my left boob.

It’s a good thing he wasn’t leaning on my sternum cause that would’ve hurt.

I could tell he liked our position by the slight smirk on his face and the constant wandering eyes.

I smile at him waiting for him to tell the whole story. Knowing him it was gonna be some crazy story that involved illegal activity.

“I was at a friends house” he started keeping eye contact with me. “He asked me if I’ve ever done weed before and obviously I said no. He handed me a small bag of gummy bears which at the time I thought was just a regular bag of gummy bears” he laughs shaking his head.

I laugh as well continuing my hand movements in his hair. “I ate almost the whole bag when he took it away from me. I was confused at first but then I realized that he gave me edibles. I wasn’t opposed to it because I had always seen Lip and Ian doing it and they seemed like they had the best times of their lives” he continued on chuckling after the memory comes to the front of his mind.

“About 30 minutes later his mom dropped me off here becuase it was a school night. While we were all eating dinner at the table that’s when I started feeling it” he stopped looking at me to make sure I was still paying attention. I nod my head urging him to finish his story.

“Everyone at the table immediately knew what was going on. Lip was laughing, Fiona was scolding me, Debbie kept asking me what I was feeling and Ian tried to calm me down from my freak out” he laughed moving his body slightly so that he was in a more comfortable position.

“I got used to it after about half an hour” he says finishing his story time. I smile at him trying to picture the scene in my head. I could imagine Fiona laughing on the inside and Lip completely falling apart with laughter.

It really was a time that I wish I was there for.

“Feeling anything?” He asks moving his arms so that he could lean his head on top of them.

If I was being honest I felt a little warm but nothing out of the ordinary.

“I feel a little warm but that it” I say shrugging my shoulders a bit. It hasn’t been that long so it should kick in a bit later.

“How do I know when it has hit” I ask looking into his eyes. He smiles a genuine smile trying to calm my nerves. “Trust me you’ll know” he answers giving me almost no details to his answer.

Well this should be fun. A guessing game.

For the next hour we chat back and forth telling our stupid stories and experiences we’ve had throughout our lives. Since we’re still young it’s mostly just stupid shit that involved some sort of parent or adult.

My muscles have continually gotten more and more heavy, my body feeling like it’s sinking into the couch underneath me. My mind has become more and more calm the more I listened to Carl talk about his time in prison.

Or atleast I was trying to listen. Every few seconds I’d get stuck in a state of dissociation where I’d forget about everything and I’d be looking at the world as if I was looking at a moving picture.

It was really fucking weird.

The giggle that erupts from my mouth confuses Carl making him look up at me. The first thing he noticed was my thrown back head and the slightly red whites of my eyes.

He starts to chuckle as well giving up on his story to watch me with intent eyes.

“You ok?” Carl asks me placing his chin on my left breast again. I look at him with a smile on my face a sudden spur of words immediately forming in my head.

“I think I might be high” I laugh moving my hand up to my head seeing it move in a weird motion. I didn’t want to get up with how relaxed I was under Carl.

He laughs as well amused with what is going on with me. This is why he wanted to be sober. He wanted to see every single thing that I would do and he wanted to imprint it into his memory.

“You know I’ve always wondered what being high would feel like and this isn’t what I thought it would be like” I confess, the words falling from my lips like an avalanche that I couldn’t control.

He stares at me waiting for the moment my word vomit decided to continue. “I thought it would be the sort of thing where I had absolutely no control over my body, but I think I have control over everything” I say letting my body rest on the couch.

The weight of my body felt like it was sinking which made me feel like I was gonna fall.

“I’m hungry” I suddenly say lifting my hands to pat Carl on the back silently asking for him to get up. “I’ll get you something” he offers getting up and off my body walking to the kitchen making sure to keep an eye on me.

The weight from his body stays on my legs making it feel like my legs were permanently stuck to the couch.

Before I start to freak out, I try to move my leg making it move from side to side on the couch. Thank god I could still move.

It’s very hard to describe this feeling. On one hand I was relaxed, and calm while on the other hand I was energetic, and freaking out.

That was only internally though.

Carl walks back into the room holding a bag of chips and another glass of water. “Here you go” he says handing me the bag before placing the glass on the coffee table for when I want it.

“Thank you” I smile trying to open the bag with a small struggle. My hands were slightly shaking which I think is normal.

With Carls laughter filling my ears I finally get it open plucking a chip out from the bag.

He sits back down on the couch moving my legs on his like he did before.

“These are good” I speak my mouth full with chips. They really were good. Although they tasted very very salty.

Scrunching my face I fold the bag back up placing the clip on it handing it to Carl. “Why do they taste so salty?” I ask reaching for my water that’s on the table.

On a normal day I would talk a lot but never this much. The cookie running through my body was making me want to spill every one of my thoughts out into the world.

“There barbecue” Carl comments looking at me with a look that says ‘are you serious’ and ‘I’m trying so hard not to laugh right now’.

“Oh” I laugh placing the water back onto the coffee table.

The front door opens suddenly another male Gallagher walking into the house. This time it was Ian.

He walks in holding his bag that he takes to work everyday. His shift must be over, either that or he’s on break.

“Ian!” I yell jumping off the couch before running to him. Almost tripping and falling flat on my ass.

“Woah what’s up with you” he asks with a small amused smile on his face. Keeping one hand on the wall I laugh doubling over into the wall.

“She’s high” Carl laughs getting up and off the couch to make sure I don’t almost bust my ass again.

“Wait really?” Ian questions eyes slightly wide. He didn’t expect that to come from Carls mouth.

“Hell yeah bro” he nods placing his hands on my shoulders.

Standing up from the wall I stand tall acting like a soldier that was in training. “Sir yes sir” I say fully aware of what I’m saying.

Carl and Ian both laugh, Ian walking away to get something to eat from the kitchen.

“How was work” I ask following after him. This time I was able to walk without almost falling over. I was getting the hang of it.

“It was alright. Had a few overdoses and a car accident. Thankfully no deaths” he smiles taking a beer out of the fridge.

“Is it scary working in a job like that? I feel like it would be scary walking into the situation thinking life or death. I would be scared to see the person because you never know when you’ll be in that situation you know what I mean?” I rush out making them think back to everything I just said.

Carl and Ian look at each other with raised eyebrows having to think about what I meant. They’ve never heard me talk about genuine fears that I have. Well at least ones that weren’t just irrational.

“Ya it can be scary, but the thought of being able to save the persons life is well worth the fear” Ian smiles taking a gulp of his drink.

“The lights scare me” I say leaning my back against the fridge door looking up at the bare ceiling that suddenly interested me.

“The flashing red and blue” i clarify picturing the lights in my head.

“Why?” Carl asks moving so that he was next to me. I couldn’t see his facial expression but I could tell by his voice that he genuinely wanted to know.

“My dads been in the hospital more times than I’d like to admit” I start allowing myself to catch a breath from all the talking I’ve done.

“Two of the times I’ve had to call 911 for him” I confess feeling the emotion from those nights. It was really scary to see my dad being carried into an ambulance.

“The lights remind me of those times and I just-” I cut myself off starting to feel small tears prick my eyes.

“I just don’t like it” i finish still staring up at the ceiling. All the shit from in my mind that I would normally keep in just fell out and into their laps.

An awkward silence fills the room making me feel slightly embarrassed by my sudden rush of emotion.

Clearing my throat I push my body off the fridge taking my eyes off of the ceiling. “Anyways I’m gonna take a nap” I say trying to get away from the always situation by walking back out of the kitchen not waiting for a response.

Falling onto the couch I burry my face into the throw pillow letting my eyes fall. The rush of calm folds over my body like a blanket as my mind goes blank and my breathing goes steady. The darkness off sleep overtaking me.

Carls POV:

She walks into the living room immediately landing on the couch. It seemed like as soon as she hit the couch she was out.

Her sudden confession about her dad runs through my head.

I never knew much about her family but I did know that her dad was a very bad drug addict.

Up until now I always thought he had some sort of control over how much he does. I guess I was wrong.

My eyebrows furrow at the guilt set in my chest.

“Wow” Ian says cutting through the silence in the room. His face showing a mixture of surprise and sadness.

The beer in his hand almost falls due to the light grip he has on it.

“Ya” I respond looking towards the couch that shes currently sleeping on.

“I have to go back to work” Ian awkwardly says putting his beer on the counter before making his way to the front door that he literally just came through.

“Bye” i slightly sigh little emotion being heard in my voice.

Walking into the living room I stare at her relaxed body trying to figure out a way to move her without waking her up.

That would be nearly impossible.

Deciding to just move her quickly I place my arms under her arms lifting her up. I quickly maneuver my body onto the couch slowly lowering her body onto mine.

She stirs a bit in her sleep making me stop my movements. She groans rolling her head to the other side before quickly falling back to sleep.

To make myself more comfortable I move her legs in between mine making her come out of her sleep.

She groans again her eyes fluttering a bit. She wasn’t fully awake but she was sort of awake.

“Mmm” she moans cuddling closer in my chest her arms moving over my sides to my back. “Hi” she smiles closing her eyes with her ear being placed on my heart.

“Go back to bed pretty girl” I smile lightly running my hands through her h/l h/c hair.

She mumbles a smile forming on her face as she lets sleep over take her again.

Even though she was gonna remember all of this tomorrow I couldn’t help but think about wether or not she was gonna act like the conversation happened.

I smile at the woman on top of me wrapping my arms around her shoulders kissing the crown of her head.

We could deal with everything tomorrow. For now I was gonna lay down and enjoy the silence of her soft breathing and the small smile across her face.

——————————————————————

A/N: This is based on my personal experience, but it’s different for everyone. It was hard explaining everything lol. I wish everyone a great day/week.

#carl gallagher #carl gallagher x reader #shameless #weed mention #light angst #fluff #ian gallagher #content warning