hi 😬 I'll go straight to it and say that I'll be no longer posting anymore, I might come back, but I have no motivation to write right now and I don't feel like forcing myself to keep trying to post when I don't feel like it. I'm barely on tumblr, I rarely read fics, I'm just not in the vibe and I'm sorry if someone liked my fics, if I ever feel like writing I'll for sure post here, just won't be posting regularly. thank u all for everything, it was really fun 🩵
hehehe we finally have an au to work with here 🤫 sorry it's taking me soo long to post, but I'm still here and I'll keep posting! lemme know if y'all like this idea 🩵
I wonder if he's busy or doesn't want to talk to me. It's been a week with little communication between me and Matt, ever since our last argument he made no effort to be present. Something so stupid, like forgetting to bring him the soda he asked for, and now we barely talk, even though we're dating.
I try to call him again, my hand shaky as I hold my phone against my ear.
-Hey! -I say, excited when I realized he picked up this time. -I was wondering if I could pass by your place later? I miss you.
I hear him sigh on the other side of the line and my heart immediately breaks, knowing it wasn't a good sign.
-Not today, I'm tired and I'm still upset with you, I need more time.
Oh. Of course, he needs time, that's totally fine...
He hangs up without even giving me a chance to talk. I sit on my bed, remembering the times we were so in love and happy with each other, talking for hours straight. When he used to text me to say how much he missed seeing me and we'd hang out the next day.
I keep crying oceans for him, and he keeps giving me reasons to believe I deserve to drown in my own tears.
"Good morning :)
I think you're busy these days since you're ignoring me, I don't know if you need more space, but can you please just let me know?"
I'm sure love's not supposed to feel like this. You don't own anyone's love if you have to beg for it. It's not fair to keep waiting for someone while he's out there probably not giving a fuck. I'm here worried, upset, feeling like shit, and he can't even text me. For days.
I can't help but think of all the signs and the amount of times he's let me down, how dumb I was to let him in. He broke my heart once before, and now he's doing it all over again and even knowing that he'll do the same I can't let him go.
Driving to his place unannounced was probably the worst mistake I've ever made, but I needed answers and if he refused to talk to me through the phone I'd make him talk to me in person. I knock on the door, his tired eyes staring at my swollen ones for the first time in two weeks.
-Are you okay? -I ask, noticing how his features didn't look as carefree and peaceful as they used to.
-I'm fine. -He says, tone firm and arrogant.
It was clear he didn't expect me to be there, and he didn't like it. I tried to talk to him, asked so many questions, followed him around like a lost puppy, cried, and begged for anything, for him to share any thoughts or feelings.
His scent filled my nostrils, giving me a weird sense of familiarity, his sad eyes looking at mine, but it felt like I was staring at a cold wall.
He hugged me, without saying anything, and my shoulders dropped, my heart melting at the slight show of affection. I take deep breaths, letting my eyes close as I try to regain my posture.
Is it insane? Letting him in again when he gives me so little? Letting him break me whenever he wants?
It must be nice to have someone like this, who loves another so much that let them break their hearts twice.
I wonder if he's busy or doesn't want to talk to me. It's been a week with little communication between me and Matt, ever since our last argument he made no effort to be present. Something so stupid, like forgetting to bring him the soda he asked for, and now we barely talk, even though we're dating.
I try to call him again, my hand shaky as I hold my phone against my ear.
-Hey! -I say, excited when I realized he picked up this time. -I was wondering if I could pass by your place later? I miss you.
I hear him sigh on the other side of the line and my heart immediately breaks, knowing it wasn't a good sign.
-Not today, I'm tired and I'm still upset with you, I need more time.
Oh. Of course, he needs time, that's totally fine...
He hangs up without even giving me a chance to talk. I sit on my bed, remembering the times we were so in love and happy with each other, talking for hours straight. When he used to text me to say how much he missed seeing me and we'd hang out the next day.
I keep crying oceans for him, and he keeps giving me reasons to believe I deserve to drown in my own tears.
"Good morning :)
I think you're busy these days since you're ignoring me, I don't know if you need more space, but can you please just let me know?"
I'm sure love's not supposed to feel like this. You don't own anyone's love if you have to beg for it. It's not fair to keep waiting for someone while he's out there probably not giving a fuck. I'm here worried, upset, feeling like shit, and he can't even text me. For days.
I can't help but think of all the signs and the amount of times he's let me down, how dumb I was to let him in. He broke my heart once before, and now he's doing it all over again and even knowing that he'll do the same I can't let him go.
Driving to his place unannounced was probably the worst mistake I've ever made, but I needed answers and if he refused to talk to me through the phone I'd make him talk to me in person. I knock on the door, his tired eyes staring at my swollen ones for the first time in two weeks.
-Are you okay? -I ask, noticing how his features didn't look as carefree and peaceful as they used to.
-I'm fine. -He says, tone firm and arrogant.
It was clear he didn't expect me to be there, and he didn't like it. I tried to talk to him, asked so many questions, followed him around like a lost puppy, cried, and begged for anything, for him to share any thoughts or feelings.
His scent filled my nostrils, giving me a weird sense of familiarity, his sad eyes looking at mine, but it felt like I was staring at a cold wall.
He hugged me, without saying anything, and my shoulders dropped, my heart melting at the slight show of affection. I take deep breaths, letting my eyes close as I try to regain my posture.
Is it insane? Letting him in again when he gives me so little? Letting him break me whenever he wants?
It must be nice to have someone like this, who loves another so much that let them break their hearts twice.
I look at him from the other side of the room. With his friends and his brothers he seems so happy, free. Talks about whatever comes to mind, enjoying himself and making everyone feel included. It's one of the reasons I fell in love with him, seeing how great he treats others.
But it's not the same when he's with me.
Whenever is just the two of us, I feel invisible. Even though he made an effort to keep me close enough to make me his girlfriend, now that I am it looks like he doesn't want me anymore. He's always too busy, he finds stuff to do when I'm around so he won't have to talk to me. He never gives me gifts, or tells me how much he loves me, or makes me feel wanted.
When I realized just how bad I was, I tried to distance myself. I didn't call him so much, didn't text him, I made excuses not to go see him, and he never seemed to care.
It's been three weeks since we last saw each other. I tried so hard to tell myself that he's just reserved, he's not so outgoing because I'm not one of the boys, he's not a gift type of boyfriend and he just... He's just bad at showing his emotions.
When he asked me to come over for the second time after so many days I wondered if things could be different. If he missed me and my presence, if he was going to finally give me the attention I crave so badly. So I got ready, even though I had no strength to make myself look pretty or even healthy, I thought he wouldn't care if my eyes looked swollen and red and if my body looked skinnier since I hadn't been eating too much.
When I got there and knocked on his door I felt a wave of anxiety hit me. He opened the door looking as unbothered as ever, not even saying anything. He steps back, giving me space to walk in, immediately walking to the living room couch.
-Hi. -I whisper, nervously, looking at him.
-Hey. -He turns on the tv, like I wasn't even there. -So, avoiding me now, aren't you?
My heart breaks with his tone, so cold and so distant, almost accusatory. I sigh, taking a seat on the other side of the couch. Normally I wouldn't sit so far away from him, but right now I just couldn't bring myself to be any closer.
-I was just trying to spend more time with my thoughts. -I explain, hoping he'd get it.
He scoffs, sarcastically, but not even look at me. I feel one more pang in my heart.
-Yeah, right.
All I wanted was for him to understand me, to be here for me, to want to listen to me. I wanted him to act like the label he placed on himself, like my boyfriend, not like a stranger.
I wonder if it's best for me to feel the emptiness, to be alone, to feel like I felt for the past three weeks without him, than to feel like I feel when I'm next to him. To feel like I'm so unimportant. It makes me look like I'm begging for something I'll never have.
-How have you been? -I ask, in an attempt to change the subject, maybe have a decent conversation with him.
-If you wanted to know you wouldn't shut me off. -He shrugs.
Ouch.
I couldn't hold back the tears anymore, the amount of sadness in my body, how upset and disappointed I was with myself for knowing I'd feel worse coming here and coming here anyway.
-Yeah, you're right, sorry. -I whisper, looking down at my legs.
For a second, I think he realized how harsh he was being, moving closer to me.
-Why are you distancing yourself? -He asks, his voice calmer, but still not giving away any emotions.
-I thought it would be best.
He turned my head so I could look at him, his eyes studying mine. It was so clear to know exactly what I was thinking about, but Chris was impossible to read.
-For me or you? -One more accusatory tone, one of his eyebrows arching.
-For us.
The sad smile was inevitable, I couldn't smile if it wasn't a sad one, but it was my way of trying to keep the conversation as calm as possible, I couldn't handle arguments.
He immediately drops his hand, nodding and clenching his jaw.
-Like that, huh? Just gonna distance yourself until there's nothing left? Is that what you want?
If there's any way of feeling your heart physically shuttering then I felt it right there. It doesn't only hurt psychologically, it hurts physically, everything hurts. Am I the wrong one? Am I so bad for trying to feel better? Is it hurting him too? If so, why doesn't he try to keep us together? He could've called, texted me, knocked on my door, asked me out on a date. But we haven't been on a date for ages...
-I don't know. -I swallow, looking away from him. -What do you want?
My vision was blurred by the tears, my stomach was swirling in the worst way possible, my body felt heavy and tired, and my head was spinning. Even being scared of breaking up, I feel like being alone is starting to look better than being with him. A relationship shouldn't feel so exhausting. It should be good, happy, calm. He should make me feel loved and cared about, talk to me, want me close. Instead, I feel like I'm useless.
-I don't know. -He responds, indifferent.
-I'm going home. -I say, even though I didn't stay for five solid minutes.
Chris's head snapped up at my announcement, a flicker of panic crossing his face before he quickly masked it with the same unbothered expression he always has.
-Yeah? Go ahead then. -He replied with a casual shrug.
I nod, standing up and walking to the front door, my hands shaking with my emotions. I stop with my hand on the handle, the door half open, and look back at him.
-I just wish one day you make me feel like you want me as much as I want you. -I say, not staying long enough to hear a response, closing the door behind me and making my way to my car.
I look at him from the other side of the room. With his friends and his brothers he seems so happy, free. Talks about whatever comes to mind, enjoying himself and making everyone feel included. It's one of the reasons I fell in love with him, seeing how great he treats others.
But it's not the same when he's with me.
Whenever is just the two of us, I feel invisible. Even though he made an effort to keep me close enough to make me his girlfriend, now that I am it looks like he doesn't want me anymore. He's always too busy, he finds stuff to do when I'm around so he won't have to talk to me. He never gives me gifts, or tells me how much he loves me, or makes me feel wanted.
When I realized just how bad I was, I tried to distance myself. I didn't call him so much, didn't text him, I made excuses not to go see him, and he never seemed to care.
It's been three weeks since we last saw each other. I tried so hard to tell myself that he's just reserved, he's not so outgoing because I'm not one of the boys, he's not a gift type of boyfriend and he just... He's just bad at showing his emotions.
When he asked me to come over for the second time after so many days I wondered if things could be different. If he missed me and my presence, if he was going to finally give me the attention I crave so badly. So I got ready, even though I had no strength to make myself look pretty or even healthy, I thought he wouldn't care if my eyes looked swollen and red and if my body looked skinnier since I hadn't been eating too much.
When I got there and knocked on his door I felt a wave of anxiety hit me. He opened the door looking as unbothered as ever, not even saying anything. He steps back, giving me space to walk in, immediately walking to the living room couch.
-Hi. -I whisper, nervously, looking at him.
-Hey. -He turns on the tv, like I wasn't even there. -So, avoiding me now, aren't you?
My heart breaks with his tone, so cold and so distant, almost accusatory. I sigh, taking a seat on the other side of the couch. Normally I wouldn't sit so far away from him, but right now I just couldn't bring myself to be any closer.
-I was just trying to spend more time with my thoughts. -I explain, hoping he'd get it.
He scoffs, sarcastically, but not even look at me. I feel one more pang in my heart.
-Yeah, right.
All I wanted was for him to understand me, to be here for me, to want to listen to me. I wanted him to act like the label he placed on himself, like my boyfriend, not like a stranger.
I wonder if it's best for me to feel the emptiness, to be alone, to feel like I felt for the past three weeks without him, than to feel like I feel when I'm next to him. To feel like I'm so unimportant. It makes me look like I'm begging for something I'll never have.
-How have you been? -I ask, in an attempt to change the subject, maybe have a decent conversation with him.
-If you wanted to know you wouldn't shut me off. -He shrugs.
Ouch.
I couldn't hold back the tears anymore, the amount of sadness in my body, how upset and disappointed I was with myself for knowing I'd feel worse coming here and coming here anyway.
-Yeah, you're right, sorry. -I whisper, looking down at my legs.
For a second, I think he realized how harsh he was being, moving closer to me.
-Why are you distancing yourself? -He asks, his voice calmer, but still not giving away any emotions.
-I thought it would be best.
He turned my head so I could look at him, his eyes studying mine. It was so clear to know exactly what I was thinking about, but Chris was impossible to read.
-For me or you? -One more accusatory tone, one of his eyebrows arching.
-For us.
The sad smile was inevitable, I couldn't smile if it wasn't a sad one, but it was my way of trying to keep the conversation as calm as possible, I couldn't handle arguments.
He immediately drops his hand, nodding and clenching his jaw.
-Like that, huh? Just gonna distance yourself until there's nothing left? Is that what you want?
If there's any way of feeling your heart physically shuttering then I felt it right there. It doesn't only hurt psychologically, it hurts physically, everything hurts. Am I the wrong one? Am I so bad for trying to feel better? Is it hurting him too? If so, why doesn't he try to keep us together? He could've called, texted me, knocked on my door, asked me out on a date. But we haven't been on a date for ages...
-I don't know. -I swallow, looking away from him. -What do you want?
My vision was blurred by the tears, my stomach was swirling in the worst way possible, my body felt heavy and tired, and my head was spinning. Even being scared of breaking up, I feel like being alone is starting to look better than being with him. A relationship shouldn't feel so exhausting. It should be good, happy, calm. He should make me feel loved and cared about, talk to me, want me close. Instead, I feel like I'm useless.
-I don't know. -He responds, indifferent.
-I'm going home. -I say, even though I didn't stay for five solid minutes.
Chris's head snapped up at my announcement, a flicker of panic crossing his face before he quickly masked it with the same unbothered expression he always has.
-Yeah? Go ahead then. -He replied with a casual shrug.
I nod, standing up and walking to the front door, my hands shaking with my emotions. I stop with my hand on the handle, the door half open, and look back at him.
-I just wish one day you make me feel like you want me as much as I want you. -I say, not staying long enough to hear a response, closing the door behind me and making my way to my car.
Selling weed to drunk teenagers and young adults at parties wasn't my first option, but high school ended a few years ago, I live alone since my parents kicked me out of their house and college is expensive as fuck. I tried to get a normal job, but my classes were taking a lot of time and it wasn't working out. Maybe it could, but I felt like I was going to explode any second, and mental health is also expensive so I couldn't afford a therapist if I needed one.
I used to love parties, drinking and dancing with my friends, just running away from all the responsibilities. Now I hate them. I have to talk to people I don't like, people I don't know, weird guys that give me what I need to sell and then I get back barely enough to pay my bills. They're not exactly dangerous, but I don't have the energy to fight back and ask for more.
My luck was to become friends with a girl in college who knew influencers and got us in a few parties. Honestly it wasn't a surprise that almost all of them used something, I mean, they have to find a way of going through life and sometimes getting high is a great escape from reality. I do it myself and I don't even get hundreds of comments about everything I do online.
Since they were all rich or close to being rich I always charged more than normal. They could pay and I needed that money, so it's only fair. Funny thing though it's not all influencers are assholes and I ended up getting involuntarily closer to one of them.
Matthew Sturniolo. Didn't seem like the kind to use stuff, and didn't look like he had done it before when I handed him a joint. I had to teach him how to smoke, something I've never done before to anyone, and when I realized his shaky hands and bouncy legs I immediately caught the reason he even asked for it.
We talked a lot the day we met, even told him my number in case he wanted more weed, but deep down I was curious and hoped he would text me so I could see him again.
When days later he called me wanting more I was surprised. First because he called, not texted like everyone does, second because for some reason I could feel through the tone in his voice that he felt the same he did at that party. He was beyond anxious and I felt bad, he seemed decently nice to be in the environment he was in that day, but I guess he needed to be present.
I found out he's a triplet, and his brothers had no idea that he wasn't sober anymore like the other two. I wonder if they're also as nice and calm as he is, at least he talks about them with love so I think they're all really close.
I have no idea why, in fact, it's a really bad thing for him to trust me enough to get in my car and smoke with me without even knowing me, but I was glad he did. It was the first time I was hanging out with a customer, and I wasn't mad at all. I did the talking for a few minutes, watching as he visibly calmed down, and eventually started talking back.
When he left I made sure to warn him about the smell so he could take a shower before his brothers noticed, and when I drove back to my place I couldn't stop wondering if he'd call me again.
But this time he texted. And he was alone, so he asked if I wanted to smoke with him inside his house. It was a bad idea, clearly a huge red sign, and I still said yes. We know a little bit about each other by now, and he had the opportunity to do anything when he got into my car, yet he seemed more like a scaredy cat than anything else, for him I probably looked like the dangerous one.
Matt is cute, all shy, but kind. More of an introvert, he gets anxious a lot, but have things to help him, and people, weed shouldn't be on the list. It was the third time we saw each other, the third time smoking together, third joint I had sold him, and I was already starting to regret selling him.
-Why did you want to smoke? -I ask, holding my joint in between my fingers and looking at him.
His smile falters as he processes the question, taking a deep breath before deciding to open up.
-I think my anxiety was getting worse and I couldn't find anything to help me anymore. I didn't want to bother my brothers, they have their own things going on as well.
I nod, feeling more empathy for him than I probably should. Talking to him felt like talking to a normal boy, not like talking to those internet famous people who somehow became "famous". He was genuine, he was showing true feelings and being relatable, I just couldn't help feeling like he was my friend and I had to help him, or try to.
-What did you do when you felt like this?
I take another hit, carefully placing my joint down and kicking off my shoes to get more comfortable on the couch. He follows my movements with his eyes.
-Journalling, going on walks, nature, fortnite. –He chuckles, looking to the other side. -I like seeing animals, watching movies, I don't know, anything that could distract me.
I smile, nodding and taking a sip of water from the third bottle we've opened since we started smoking.
-That's cool. Why don't they seem to work anymore?
He shrugs, taking the last hit before throwing the finished joint into a bowl. The smoke left his lips smoothly, now being more used to the feeling and not coughing, eyes turning slightly red as the effects hit him.
-I don't know. They don't feel the same, it's like I'm losing interest, y'know? -He asks, with his accent showing up.
I nod once again, knowing exactly what he meant. That's one of the reasons why I started smoking, years ago, and knowing how I just simply cannot live without it I feel responsible for making Matt realize this is not a good option and there are other ways of making the anxiety disappear. I don't want him to be like me.
☘︎☘︎☘︎
Matt has texted me at least once a week for the past three weeks and it was starting to worry me how badly he needed more. Smoking more than one joint, smoking alone, I warned him I wouldn't sell him that much, but he was getting used to the idea of not thinking about his problems while high and our texts were no longer just about him wanting to buy stuff.
We talked every day. I tried to keep it as superficial as possible, but it was no use since we ended up opening up to each other. I told him my reason for selling, almost all that happened in my life, and I knew so much about him too. My concerns only increased as the days went by and now, with him in my apartment for the second time this week, I knew I had to do something about it.
-Long time no see. -I joke, seeing him at my front door.
His face said what he didn't need to, he was almost panicking, sweating, pink cheeks, glossy eyes, shaky hands. He didn't seem healthy at all, and it was hurting me to know that part of it was my fault. I gave him access to drugs, I showed him how to smoke.
-I need one. -He sighs, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
We sat down on my couch, him watching me intently as I started rolling a couple of joints.
-That bad, huh? –I ask, my voice sounding a bit lower than normal. -You know I can't keep selling you this shit, right?
I look at him, my eyes sending him a warning. We talked about it before, I had to bring up how much he was contacting me for drugs and how much I disliked it.
-I know, I'll stop, I just feel really bad right now. -He tells me, but I had no trust that he'd actually stop.
-I hope so, I care about you, Matt. You're not just my customer, you know that.
My voice was soft, full of sincerity, and he knew that, his eyes also softening when he realized he was being too much.
-I just need to find other ways to deal with it. -He looks down, almost embarrassed, fidgeting his fingers.
There's a silence for a minute, all we ever talked about, how much I worry about him, how I feel responsible for him, how I'm so grateful we met and how much I hate to see him like this, all going through my mind. I couldn't bear to watch him suffer and fill him with drugs to make it go away, because I knew that it wouldn't, it just makes things worse.
I'm not an addict, at least not to the point it makes my life harder, I just use weed whenever I'm stressed, which is a lot. Although, I have the strength to do what I need to and that's good for me, it means I'm still healthy enough to go through my stuff. But Matt isn't. He doesn't seem or act healthy, and although is not just because of the weed, I think it makes him feel like he can only do stuff when he's high. And that is dangerous.
I try to think about other ways of making him feel better. My tongue sealed the first beck, putting it aside as I worked on the second one. There weren't many options, all the things he used to like seem boring to him now, and there's not much we could do. He needs something that makes both body and mind work at the same time, something that makes him tired, makes him feel.
I was reluctant to ask him what came into my mind, but as I saw him become impatient and my fingers close the second beck, I knew I had to do something, and I had to do it now.
-Matt, would you fuck me? -I ask, sealing the second beck and putting it aside.
I could've worded it better, but I felt desperate to avoid him smoking again. His eyes widen, jaw falling in surprise. I was also surprised with myself, but if I'm being honest it wasn't the first time I asked this, the only difference is that I usually ask it to myself, in my brain, not out loud, not to him.
-What?!
-You heard me.
Saying it once was enough, I had no courage to ask him twice, but at least it was kinda working, he stopped fidgeting his fingers and didn't even look at the joints that I discreetly set on the coffee table.
He seemed to think about it, processing my words, eyebrows raising as his eyes looked everywhere but at me. He licks his lips, placing each hand on each side of his body.
-I mean, yeah, I guess, but why?
His answer was not what I expected, but I didn't know what to expect. It made my heart beat faster and now I felt like the shy anxious one. I never did this before, nothing that I did with Matt I did before in my life with anyone else. Being friends with a customer is not usually the best idea, most of the time it's not even possible, but more than that?
He knows me. He truly does, and I know him, as much as he lets me. This is not just a common selling-buying relationship, it's way past that.
-Well, sex is a decent way to help with your anxiety, better than drugs.
I explain, my voice slightly shaky, eyes meeting his awkwardly, hoping I was making any sense.
When he studies me with his eyes I feel nervous, he could pay for the weed and go away, never talk to me again, say all the worst things he could think of.
Instead, he only nods, face turning serious.
-Do you want to do it or do you just want me to quit the weed so bad you're considering it?
His words caught me by surprise, but by now I shouldn't be surprised with anything anymore. Although it was kind of a harsh statement, I knew where he was coming from and the tone in his voice showed me he was as hesitant as I was.
-I do want you to quit, but I wouldn't do it just because of it. -My answer was clear, and almost a relief, for both of us.
There was another silence, not long, but that carried all the emotions and uncertainties both of us had at the moment.
-I get anxious a lot. -Matt says, half joking, half teasing.
Feels like we got ourselves an agreement, and I just know things are changing drastically between us now.
-I'm aware of that. -I joke back.
We smile at each other, taking in the final moment of acceptance before Matt's lips are on mine. I quickly kiss him back, our lips moving slowly at first, savoring each other's taste. There was a pause to breathe that didn't last long until we were kissing again.
With those two kisses I was more than happy with myself for thinking of such a good way of helping him, if I wasn't sure why I felt the urge to do something about it now it was crystal clear. I like him. Talking to him, being his dealer, being his friend, getting to know him, caring about him, it might or might not be in a romantic way, but I like him, a lot.
Feeling his lips on mine, our tongues brushing together, him carefully laying me down on the couch and hovering me, with one hand finally holding my waist. I definitely like him, and I like this, I like his touch as much as I like his voice, I like kissing him as much as I like hanging out with him, I like all of him.
Our shirts were on the floor, my bra hanging over the coffee table, his hands exploring my skin as I shivered, eyes connected as he slipped my pants down. His fingers were cold, pressing on my soaked panties, eyes admiring it like a work of art, speechless.
All anxiety in his body left when my last piece of clothes was discarded and his mouth did wonders on me, moans probably pissing off the neighbors as I tried to pull him closer by his hair.
-Fuck, Matt, I'm gonna cum... -I warn him with a whiny voice, back arching and head falling back.
-Please do, wanna taste you so bad. -He barely takes his mouth out of me to say, hands gently caressing my thighs.
My first orgasm with him was surprisingly good, not that I expected it to be bad, but definitely didn't expect it to feel so... perfect. He smiled at me like he was proud, kissing all over my body until his lips found mine again, making me taste myself.
His clothes were soon discarded as well and just by the sight of him I knew I had one more reason to like him. He seemed the calmest I've ever seen him, considering what was happening, a smirk of confidence on his lips proving he knew exactly what he was doing to me. His hand wraps around his length, teasing my folds with his tip and holding himself up with his other arm.
-Wanted to do this for so long, if I knew I had a chance I wouldn't even ask for so much weed just to see you. -He smirks down at me, circling my sensitive clit with his tip.
The feelings were so intense I almost missed what he said, but when my brain processed his words I was shocked. My jaw fell in surprise, eyes widening and my arm lifting so I could slap his arm with my hand, giving him a look of disbelief.
-You're unbelievable, you didn't have to buy anything, or use anything! We could've just hung out. -I say, trying not to smile at the fact he confessed he wanted to see me.
But in awful terms and I felt even more responsible for his acts.
I didn't have time to be mad at him, though, because he decided it was the perfect time to push all of him at once. My gasp was so loud that the entire building probably heard it, my walls fell on fire for a few seconds and he remained in the same position until my expression softened and he started to move.
His confession fully disappeared from my mind when I felt just how good he could feel. It gave me butterflies to feel him moving at a slow pace, keeping eye contact like he wanted to make sure everything was okay. His eyes looked so pretty, dark and full of desire, but also affection.
Matt kisses me again as he fasteners his thrusts, making me moan against his lips. One of his hands grabs one of my thighs, holding it up against my chest, hitting deeper.
-So fucking good. -He whispers, a long breath leaving his lips as his eyes roll back and his head falls.
My nails leave bruises on his back as I feel my second orgasm building up, sounds getting louder and my body squirming non-stop under him. Didn't take long for me to reach it, him following and pulling off just fast enough to paint my stomach with his seed.
After deep breaths and a long hug to calm down, Matt stands up and walks to my bathroom, already knowing how to navigate through my apartment, and comes back with a towel to clean us. When we were done he left me putting on my clothes again to get me some water.
Both decently dressed, a pause to the bathroom and lots of water later, Matt and I sit back on the couch, looking at each other, my head resting on the backrest and his hand moving my hair behind my ear.
-I didn't smoke all the joints I bought. I gave some to my friends who smoke. I only smoked once without you and I hated it. I was too nervous to ask you to just hang out, I wasn't sure if you'd want to, so I kept coming back to buy more because I knew I could spend time with you that way.
His voice was soft and sweet, only sharing his truth with me without being scared of it. Although it was adorable that he wanted to see me so much he found a way he thought it was the best, I hated how unsure he was if I'd want to spend time with him back. I also hated that weed was involved in this.
I smile at him, taking his free hand in mine and interlacing our fingers, rubbing my thumb against his skin.
-Matt, I really like seeing you and hanging out with you, there's no need to feel nervous, weed or no weed I still want you around. Honestly, preferably with no weed, you don't need it, never did.
His eyes showed so much gratitude, almost shining with relief. He smiles back, nodding his head and looking down at our fingers, his other hand still playing with my hair.
-Yeah, it didn't help me that much, but at least it brought you into my life, so I'm grateful for it.
My heart swells with affection, butterflies flying free in my stomach. I reach out to press a soft kiss on his lips, wanting to show him just how much I enjoyed knowing how he feels.
-I'm so happy to have you in my life, Matt. -I whisper, pulling away just enough to say it.
We smile at each other, both of his hands now on my cheeks, cupping them gently.
-Does this mean you'd say yes to a date?
I giggle, nodding and wrapping my arms around him.
Selling weed to drunk teenagers and young adults at parties wasn't my first option, but high school ended a few years ago, I live alone since my parents kicked me out of their house and college is expensive as fuck. I tried to get a normal job, but my classes were taking a lot of time and it wasn't working out. Maybe it could, but I felt like I was going to explode any second, and mental health is also expensive so I couldn't afford a therapist if I needed one.
I used to love parties, drinking and dancing with my friends, just running away from all the responsibilities. Now I hate them. I have to talk to people I don't like, people I don't know, weird guys that give me what I need to sell and then I get back barely enough to pay my bills. They're not exactly dangerous, but I don't have the energy to fight back and ask for more.
My luck was to become friends with a girl in college who knew influencers and got us in a few parties. Honestly it wasn't a surprise that almost all of them used something, I mean, they have to find a way of going through life and sometimes getting high is a great escape from reality. I do it myself and I don't even get hundreds of comments about everything I do online.
Since they were all rich or close to being rich I always charged more than normal. They could pay and I needed that money, so it's only fair. Funny thing though it's not all influencers are assholes and I ended up getting involuntarily closer to one of them.
Matthew Sturniolo. Didn't seem like the kind to use stuff, and didn't look like he had done it before when I handed him a joint. I had to teach him how to smoke, something I've never done before to anyone, and when I realized his shaky hands and bouncy legs I immediately caught the reason he even asked for it.
We talked a lot the day we met, even told him my number in case he wanted more weed, but deep down I was curious and hoped he would text me so I could see him again.
When days later he called me wanting more I was surprised. First because he called, not texted like everyone does, second because for some reason I could feel through the tone in his voice that he felt the same he did at that party. He was beyond anxious and I felt bad, he seemed decently nice to be in the environment he was in that day, but I guess he needed to be present.
I found out he's a triplet, and his brothers had no idea that he wasn't sober anymore like the other two. I wonder if they're also as nice and calm as he is, at least he talks about them with love so I think they're all really close.
I have no idea why, in fact, it's a really bad thing for him to trust me enough to get in my car and smoke with me without even knowing me, but I was glad he did. It was the first time I was hanging out with a customer, and I wasn't mad at all. I did the talking for a few minutes, watching as he visibly calmed down, and eventually started talking back.
When he left I made sure to warn him about the smell so he could take a shower before his brothers noticed, and when I drove back to my place I couldn't stop wondering if he'd call me again.
But this time he texted. And he was alone, so he asked if I wanted to smoke with him inside his house. It was a bad idea, clearly a huge red sign, and I still said yes. We know a little bit about each other by now, and he had the opportunity to do anything when he got into my car, yet he seemed more like a scaredy cat than anything else, for him I probably looked like the dangerous one.
Matt is cute, all shy, but kind. More of an introvert, he gets anxious a lot, but have things to help him, and people, weed shouldn't be on the list. It was the third time we saw each other, the third time smoking together, third joint I had sold him, and I was already starting to regret selling him.
-Why did you want to smoke? -I ask, holding my joint in between my fingers and looking at him.
His smile falters as he processes the question, taking a deep breath before deciding to open up.
-I think my anxiety was getting worse and I couldn't find anything to help me anymore. I didn't want to bother my brothers, they have their own things going on as well.
I nod, feeling more empathy for him than I probably should. Talking to him felt like talking to a normal boy, not like talking to those internet famous people who somehow became "famous". He was genuine, he was showing true feelings and being relatable, I just couldn't help feeling like he was my friend and I had to help him, or try to.
-What did you do when you felt like this?
I take another hit, carefully placing my joint down and kicking off my shoes to get more comfortable on the couch. He follows my movements with his eyes.
-Journalling, going on walks, nature, fortnite. –He chuckles, looking to the other side. -I like seeing animals, watching movies, I don't know, anything that could distract me.
I smile, nodding and taking a sip of water from the third bottle we've opened since we started smoking.
-That's cool. Why don't they seem to work anymore?
He shrugs, taking the last hit before throwing the finished joint into a bowl. The smoke left his lips smoothly, now being more used to the feeling and not coughing, eyes turning slightly red as the effects hit him.
-I don't know. They don't feel the same, it's like I'm losing interest, y'know? -He asks, with his accent showing up.
I nod once again, knowing exactly what he meant. That's one of the reasons why I started smoking, years ago, and knowing how I just simply cannot live without it I feel responsible for making Matt realize this is not a good option and there are other ways of making the anxiety disappear. I don't want him to be like me.
☘︎☘︎☘︎
Matt has texted me at least once a week for the past three weeks and it was starting to worry me how badly he needed more. Smoking more than one joint, smoking alone, I warned him I wouldn't sell him that much, but he was getting used to the idea of not thinking about his problems while high and our texts were no longer just about him wanting to buy stuff.
We talked every day. I tried to keep it as superficial as possible, but it was no use since we ended up opening up to each other. I told him my reason for selling, almost all that happened in my life, and I knew so much about him too. My concerns only increased as the days went by and now, with him in my apartment for the second time this week, I knew I had to do something about it.
-Long time no see. -I joke, seeing him at my front door.
His face said what he didn't need to, he was almost panicking, sweating, pink cheeks, glossy eyes, shaky hands. He didn't seem healthy at all, and it was hurting me to know that part of it was my fault. I gave him access to drugs, I showed him how to smoke.
-I need one. -He sighs, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
We sat down on my couch, him watching me intently as I started rolling a couple of joints.
-That bad, huh? –I ask, my voice sounding a bit lower than normal. -You know I can't keep selling you this shit, right?
I look at him, my eyes sending him a warning. We talked about it before, I had to bring up how much he was contacting me for drugs and how much I disliked it.
-I know, I'll stop, I just feel really bad right now. -He tells me, but I had no trust that he'd actually stop.
-I hope so, I care about you, Matt. You're not just my customer, you know that.
My voice was soft, full of sincerity, and he knew that, his eyes also softening when he realized he was being too much.
-I just need to find other ways to deal with it. -He looks down, almost embarrassed, fidgeting his fingers.
There's a silence for a minute, all we ever talked about, how much I worry about him, how I feel responsible for him, how I'm so grateful we met and how much I hate to see him like this, all going through my mind. I couldn't bear to watch him suffer and fill him with drugs to make it go away, because I knew that it wouldn't, it just makes things worse.
I'm not an addict, at least not to the point it makes my life harder, I just use weed whenever I'm stressed, which is a lot. Although, I have the strength to do what I need to and that's good for me, it means I'm still healthy enough to go through my stuff. But Matt isn't. He doesn't seem or act healthy, and although is not just because of the weed, I think it makes him feel like he can only do stuff when he's high. And that is dangerous.
I try to think about other ways of making him feel better. My tongue sealed the first beck, putting it aside as I worked on the second one. There weren't many options, all the things he used to like seem boring to him now, and there's not much we could do. He needs something that makes both body and mind work at the same time, something that makes him tired, makes him feel.
I was reluctant to ask him what came into my mind, but as I saw him become impatient and my fingers close the second beck, I knew I had to do something, and I had to do it now.
-Matt, would you fuck me? -I ask, sealing the second beck and putting it aside.
I could've worded it better, but I felt desperate to avoid him smoking again. His eyes widen, jaw falling in surprise. I was also surprised with myself, but if I'm being honest it wasn't the first time I asked this, the only difference is that I usually ask it to myself, in my brain, not out loud, not to him.
-What?!
-You heard me.
Saying it once was enough, I had no courage to ask him twice, but at least it was kinda working, he stopped fidgeting his fingers and didn't even look at the joints that I discreetly set on the coffee table.
He seemed to think about it, processing my words, eyebrows raising as his eyes looked everywhere but at me. He licks his lips, placing each hand on each side of his body.
-I mean, yeah, I guess, but why?
His answer was not what I expected, but I didn't know what to expect. It made my heart beat faster and now I felt like the shy anxious one. I never did this before, nothing that I did with Matt I did before in my life with anyone else. Being friends with a customer is not usually the best idea, most of the time it's not even possible, but more than that?
He knows me. He truly does, and I know him, as much as he lets me. This is not just a common selling-buying relationship, it's way past that.
-Well, sex is a decent way to help with your anxiety, better than drugs.
I explain, my voice slightly shaky, eyes meeting his awkwardly, hoping I was making any sense.
When he studies me with his eyes I feel nervous, he could pay for the weed and go away, never talk to me again, say all the worst things he could think of.
Instead, he only nods, face turning serious.
-Do you want to do it or do you just want me to quit the weed so bad you're considering it?
His words caught me by surprise, but by now I shouldn't be surprised with anything anymore. Although it was kind of a harsh statement, I knew where he was coming from and the tone in his voice showed me he was as hesitant as I was.
-I do want you to quit, but I wouldn't do it just because of it. -My answer was clear, and almost a relief, for both of us.
There was another silence, not long, but that carried all the emotions and uncertainties both of us had at the moment.
-I get anxious a lot. -Matt says, half joking, half teasing.
Feels like we got ourselves an agreement, and I just know things are changing drastically between us now.
-I'm aware of that. -I joke back.
We smile at each other, taking in the final moment of acceptance before Matt's lips are on mine. I quickly kiss him back, our lips moving slowly at first, savoring each other's taste. There was a pause to breathe that didn't last long until we were kissing again.
With those two kisses I was more than happy with myself for thinking of such a good way of helping him, if I wasn't sure why I felt the urge to do something about it now it was crystal clear. I like him. Talking to him, being his dealer, being his friend, getting to know him, caring about him, it might or might not be in a romantic way, but I like him, a lot.
Feeling his lips on mine, our tongues brushing together, him carefully laying me down on the couch and hovering me, with one hand finally holding my waist. I definitely like him, and I like this, I like his touch as much as I like his voice, I like kissing him as much as I like hanging out with him, I like all of him.
Our shirts were on the floor, my bra hanging over the coffee table, his hands exploring my skin as I shivered, eyes connected as he slipped my pants down. His fingers were cold, pressing on my soaked panties, eyes admiring it like a work of art, speechless.
All anxiety in his body left when my last piece of clothes was discarded and his mouth did wonders on me, moans probably pissing off the neighbors as I tried to pull him closer by his hair.
-Fuck, Matt, I'm gonna cum... -I warn him with a whiny voice, back arching and head falling back.
-Please do, wanna taste you so bad. -He barely takes his mouth out of me to say, hands gently caressing my thighs.
My first orgasm with him was surprisingly good, not that I expected it to be bad, but definitely didn't expect it to feel so... perfect. He smiled at me like he was proud, kissing all over my body until his lips found mine again, making me taste myself.
His clothes were soon discarded as well and just by the sight of him I knew I had one more reason to like him. He seemed the calmest I've ever seen him, considering what was happening, a smirk of confidence on his lips proving he knew exactly what he was doing to me. His hand wraps around his length, teasing my folds with his tip and holding himself up with his other arm.
-Wanted to do this for so long, if I knew I had a chance I wouldn't even ask for so much weed just to see you. -He smirks down at me, circling my sensitive clit with his tip.
The feelings were so intense I almost missed what he said, but when my brain processed his words I was shocked. My jaw fell in surprise, eyes widening and my arm lifting so I could slap his arm with my hand, giving him a look of disbelief.
-You're unbelievable, you didn't have to buy anything, or use anything! We could've just hung out. -I say, trying not to smile at the fact he confessed he wanted to see me.
But in awful terms and I felt even more responsible for his acts.
I didn't have time to be mad at him, though, because he decided it was the perfect time to push all of him at once. My gasp was so loud that the entire building probably heard it, my walls fell on fire for a few seconds and he remained in the same position until my expression softened and he started to move.
His confession fully disappeared from my mind when I felt just how good he could feel. It gave me butterflies to feel him moving at a slow pace, keeping eye contact like he wanted to make sure everything was okay. His eyes looked so pretty, dark and full of desire, but also affection.
Matt kisses me again as he fasteners his thrusts, making me moan against his lips. One of his hands grabs one of my thighs, holding it up against my chest, hitting deeper.
-So fucking good. -He whispers, a long breath leaving his lips as his eyes roll back and his head falls.
My nails leave bruises on his back as I feel my second orgasm building up, sounds getting louder and my body squirming non-stop under him. Didn't take long for me to reach it, him following and pulling off just fast enough to paint my stomach with his seed.
After deep breaths and a long hug to calm down, Matt stands up and walks to my bathroom, already knowing how to navigate through my apartment, and comes back with a towel to clean us. When we were done he left me putting on my clothes again to get me some water.
Both decently dressed, a pause to the bathroom and lots of water later, Matt and I sit back on the couch, looking at each other, my head resting on the backrest and his hand moving my hair behind my ear.
-I didn't smoke all the joints I bought. I gave some to my friends who smoke. I only smoked once without you and I hated it. I was too nervous to ask you to just hang out, I wasn't sure if you'd want to, so I kept coming back to buy more because I knew I could spend time with you that way.
His voice was soft and sweet, only sharing his truth with me without being scared of it. Although it was adorable that he wanted to see me so much he found a way he thought it was the best, I hated how unsure he was if I'd want to spend time with him back. I also hated that weed was involved in this.
I smile at him, taking his free hand in mine and interlacing our fingers, rubbing my thumb against his skin.
-Matt, I really like seeing you and hanging out with you, there's no need to feel nervous, weed or no weed I still want you around. Honestly, preferably with no weed, you don't need it, never did.
His eyes showed so much gratitude, almost shining with relief. He smiles back, nodding his head and looking down at our fingers, his other hand still playing with my hair.
-Yeah, it didn't help me that much, but at least it brought you into my life, so I'm grateful for it.
My heart swells with affection, butterflies flying free in my stomach. I reach out to press a soft kiss on his lips, wanting to show him just how much I enjoyed knowing how he feels.
-I'm so happy to have you in my life, Matt. -I whisper, pulling away just enough to say it.
We smile at each other, both of his hands now on my cheeks, cupping them gently.
-Does this mean you'd say yes to a date?
I giggle, nodding and wrapping my arms around him.
I picked up an empty red cup and filled it with non-alcoholic cider. The familiar taste of apple sweetened my tongue as I walked back to the balcony, setting my cup on the table beside me and my arms on the balcony. I looked at the sky, which was colorful with some early fireworks.
-Hi. –I hear a low, soft greeting, the familiar voice making me smile.
-Hi. –I answer back, turning my face to look into the blue eyes that had caught my attention months ago, now a little darker in the night.
He leans against the balcony, the genuine smile on his face making me feel butterflies in my stomach.
-Only five minutes left. –He warns, his attention turning to the vivid colors in the sky.
-Yeah, it went by fast, and it wasn't that bad. -I say, chuckling softly, which makes him look back at me with one of his eyebrows arched.
-It wasn't that bad? -He asks, a provocative smile appearing on his lips.
4 minutes.
-Well, it could've been worse, but it could've been a lot better, y'know? –I replied, leaving a hidden message in the air.
Our friends gathered around us, looking at the fireworks that were already exploding everywhere and talking about the year that had just passed.
-What could've been better? –He asked, taking a step to the side to get closer to me.
Our shoulders were touching and he kept his eyes on me, but out of nervousness mine were focused on the fireworks. My cheeks blushed a little at my own thoughts, wondering what answer I'd give him.
3 minutes.
-Mm, I don't know, I could've done a lot of things I like without thinking of what other people would think, I could've talked more about how I feel and maybe confessed my feelings to the guy I've had a crush on for the past months. But, of course, I didn't do any of that. Maybe next year. –I answer, smiling at him, a bit embarrassed about the last part.
He looks at me with a confused and slightly disappointed expression. His eyebrows arched as his eyes searched for any hint of who I might be talking about, but when he found nothing he looked down, the bubbles of his soda becoming the main focus of his vision. A few seconds of silence passed and I was sure that he wasn't going to give me an answer, after all, there really wasn't much to talk about.
2 minutes.
Chris is the only one in my thoughts for the last three months and coincidentally one of my best friends. Ever since we met, I've been fascinated by his spontaneous manner, his ability to make me laugh, his ability to be that friend who makes any hang out better.
We became friends very quickly, but it took me a few months to see him differently. Beauty doesn't do everything by itself, but he wasn't just a pretty face. He makes me laugh, he keeps me entertained with his stories, our conversations never end, his company is comfortable, and he also has his serious side where we can talk about sensitive and slightly heavier things.
-So you're into someone. –His answer came, subtle and unpredictable.
Chris was playing with his red cup, half full of Pepsi, and trying his best to hide his disappointment, but I couldn't ignore the sad, unhappy look on his face.
-Yeah, but I don't know if we would work so I didn't do anything about it. –I say, sincerely, but avoiding saying too much and ending up confessing what I shouldn't.
He nods in affirmation, takes a deep breath and looks out at the view from the balcony. I'm starting to get a little nervous about this interaction, so I find myself biting the inside of my cheek as a way of calming down.
1 minute.
-Why do you think that? –He asks, his voice calm but firm.
My eyes never leave his face, scanning every detail. His few, almost imperceptible freckles, his eyes that looked black because his pupils were dilated, his freshly shaved beard, the shiny earrings in his ears, the backward hat. Everything about him, absolutely everything, was just perfect.
-I don't want to ruin our friendship. –I whisper, giving away who I was talking about.
Fuck it.
His eyes return to me, his face serious, but showing a hint of a smile on his lips.
-Yeah? -He asks, as if checking.
I hear our friends starting to count down, 10 seconds.
-Yep.
My cheeks turn red in embarrassment and his smile only grows. I couldn't stop looking at him, even though I wanted to, it was like his eyes were hypnotizing me.
9.
I couldn't hide it any longer. It was a time for change, and regardless of whether it was for better or worse, it needed to happen, I needed to tell him.
8.
-You like me? –He asks, as if he still doesn't believe it.
7.
He turns his body, no longer leaning against the balcony, but standing in front of me, just one step away. It was like my entire body panicked and I felt as nervous as a teenager talking to her crush.
6.
I also change my position, now facing him, reluctantly studying his eyes.
5.
-Yeah, I do. –I finally confess.
This is terrifying, my heart is beating so fast, I feel like my fingertips went numb, my cheeks are burning and my mind is thinking of a thousand things at once.
4.
The voices of our friends on the countdown and the fireworks already bursting loudly in the sky were the only things I could hear.
3.
His smile grows even more and it makes me a little less nervous, at least he's not mad, right?
2.
He takes the last step forward, bringing our bodies together, one of his hands on my hip, squeezing lightly, and the other on the back of my neck, pulling me closer.
1.
Chris brings our lips together in a long, calm and delicate kiss, making me immediately melt and kiss him back, my arms wrapping around his neck.
HAPPY NEW YEAR.
The voices didn't separate us, not even the screams of our friends when they realized we were kissing.
I didn't tell anyone about my feelings for Chris, I thought it'd be a bad idea and initially I thought it was just a crush that would eventually fade away, but obviously it didn't. So, to say the least, they were all surprised.
We only separated when the air ran out, a giant smile on our faces. Our foreheads were still touching when he whispered.
-I've wanted to do this for a long time.
I giggled happily, but didn't have time to answer him. We were both pulled away by our friends for New Year's hugs and a lot of questions from our confused friends that neither of us knew what to answer yet.
It was my first kiss of the year, and my first kiss with him, and I couldn't have had a better New Year's Eve than this.
