doechris

[doechris]

You’re my drug: part 1

currently, you were half way through your senior year. you are Chris weren’t close, far from it infact, but he’d broken his radio silence three weeks in. “you reek of weed”, he seethed. the tone in his voice made it sound like you offended him. you didn’t care, of course, simply responding “you reek of ass”. this made him smirk slightly, though when you caught a glimpse of it he quickly went back to his usual brooding expression.

since then, it’s been little things. you’d share your sweets with him when you got the munchies in class, he’d fill you in on announcements you missed when you were spaced out, he’d make little comments to himself about how stupid Mrs Adams is that’d send you into a fit of giggles. most of the conversations you had were you yapping to him about anything that came to your mind, and him just sitting there. you didn’t know whether he was listening to you, but something about him made you feel so seen. so heard. something not even your parents had ever made you feel. you weren’t close, far from it infact, but you could feel a small friendship forming.

that’s what you told yourself, at least. ever since he first flashed you that stupid, entrancing smirk, you’ve looked for him in the hallways. you’ve made eye contact with him in the lunch hall, pulling your face at your “friends” and rolling your eyes, making him quietly laugh to himself. the thought that anything you say could make him laugh, could make him break the hard exterior he fought so hard to keep up, sent butterflies straight to your gut. not the happy, floaty kind of butterflies the movies describe but an uncomfortable, sickening kind of butterflies. you knew he’d never go for you, you knew you were barely even friends nevermind anything more, you knew he’d laugh in your face if you ever told him how you feel. which is why it hurt so much.

on this particular day, you’d ran out of weed. you hadn’t had your morning joint, resorting to your thc pen which often made you feel ill. ‘a high is a high’, you told yourself as you ignored the growing sick feeling in your stomach. you were sat in homeroom, Chris sulking about something or other next to you, Millie laughing loudly with Todd. everything was getting on your nerves, which you out down to not being high enough. you pulled the sleeves of your grey jacket down over your hands, took your esig filled with thc liquid from your pocked into your covered hand, leant forwards so you didn’t bait yourself out, and starting to inhale the drug. at first Chris looked at you confused, until he clocked onto what you were doing. he let out a low scoff and you rolled your eyes at him. he was about to make a comment, when Mrs Adams spoke up. “problem, Chris?” she asked, more rhetorically than anything. Chris side eyed you before shaking his head no.

once the attention was back away from you both, you quickly exhaled the smoke downwards to the side. “what the fuck was that?” I whispered angrily, “you nearly got me caught.” he rolled his eyes again, not even looking at you as he responded lowly, “you don’t need that shit. you’re killing yourself and you don’t even fucking care.” you didn’t even know how to respond to that, which shocked him. usually, you were the first to snap back at him. to say something he could act like annoyed him but secretly he loved. so when you stayed silent, hitting your pen again, he stared at you blankly.

when the bell rang, you put the pen back in your pocket. you stood up, swaying slightly, and grabbed your tote bag. you took a moment to try and compose yourself, and Chris just stared at you like a deer lost in the headlights. “dude, you good?” he asked. you nodded your head lazily, before attempting to walk past you. as you did so, he grabbed your arm and pulled you back to face him. then same sickening butterflies erupted in your stomach, making you feel even worse. you didn’t look at him. you couldn’t look at him. you knew he was gonna make a snarky remark, and all you wanted to do was make a b-line to the bathrooms and sit there until you’d mellowed out. he didn’t like the fact you couldn’t make eye contact with him. it proved to him that somewhere, deep down, you were ashamed of the things you did.

he grabbed your chin gently but firmly and tilted your head up so your eyes had to meet his. you felt like your whole world stopped. you stopped tensing up, which you hadn’t even realised you’d been doing, and Chris searched your eyes for something you just couldn’t put your finger on. after a moment, he tutted and let go of your face, pushing hit back slightly as he did so. you were about to walk past him again when you felt his hand in your pocket. your bodies were close, almost touching, when he leaned down and muttered into your ear, “you’re better than this shit and you know it.” then, he walked away. as if nothing had happened. as if he hadn’t just made you fall in love with him more than you already were.

you put your hand into your pocket, mimicking his movements, and your hand landed on a small packet of haribo. the strawberrys. now, to any other person this wouldn’t have meant anything. a simple packet of sweets they probably hadn’t seen since they were young. but to you, this meant something. really meant something. because he remembered. he remembered the times in class you got the munchies and pulled out a big pack of haribo. he remembered you saying you couldn’t eat the tangfasfics because you sometimes got dry mouth and the sourness sugar sometimes hurt your throat. he remembered you saying you liked the strawberry ones because they weren’t overwhelming, they were just one plane flavour that filled the empty hole that made your stomach rumble. he remembered.

you walked out the classroom to see Millie waiting for you, staring with a giddy smile and a knowing look on her face. “what was that about,” she asked, her tone absolutely drowning with excitement. you rolled your eyes playfully at her, “nothing. just.. name calling like always. hey, could you tell Mr Jameson that I’ll probably be late if I even show up at all, I’m going to the bathrooms to mellow out. tell him I feel sick or something, yeah?” she nodded and you began to walk away, unable to help the smile crawling onto your face. “it didn’t look like just name calling!” she shouted as you walked away, but you didn’t acknowledge her. you just made eye contact with the boy that’d taken over your thoughts as you pushed the bathroom door open and walked inside.

First official part guys, how are we feeling. Please let me know your opinions, and likes/re blogs are heavily appreciated <3

🏷️ : @matts-girlfriend @sturnsblogs @courta13 @izzylovesmatt @crazyforsturniolo @sturniololoverrr14

[doechris]

Introducing: “you’re my drug”

©️tiggerchris

ever since you turned thirteen, you decided you hated the world. it’s fucked up. it’s unfair. reality sucks. girls are expected to look, act, sound, be a certain way. and that was something you couldn’t stand. so, from the age of thirteen, you thought ‘fuck it’. you didn’t care anymore, reality is stupid so what’s the point in staying connected. you turned to substances. weed. alcohol. nothing too bad, but enough to take your mind off of the shitshow that is the modern society.

you lost a lot of friends in middle school, and didn’t really have any friends at the start of high school. no one wanted to be associated with the “druggie”. you were a mess. a lost cause. a waste of space. everyone knew it, so you just kept to yourself. until the new girl arrived at school, Millie. you were barely sixteen years old when she showed up. bright, hopeful eyes and a beaming smile. you knew from the moment you saw her in homeroom, she’d be popular. so what shocked you was when she walked up to you, smiled, and asked if the seat next to you was taken. you shook your head, mellowed out, with a lazy half-smile on your face. you guys talked the whole lesson, and after that, you were pretty much inseparable. she made more friends. popular friends, who hated you. but Millie insisted you always hang out with them. “I know you,” she’d claim, “I know you don’t like being on your own, not really.” and you hated that she was right.

senior year started months later. you and Millie were still as inseparable as ever, except this meant you both never stopped talking. the two of you together were often described as a disruption. that’s why, when senior year commenced, your homeroom teacher split you up. Millie was put next to some boy named Todd, whilst Todd’s original desk partner was moved next to you. Chris Sturniolo. quiet. reserved. self-renowned loser. you didn’t have a problem with Chris. how could you? you’ve never spoken to him a day in your life. he was always sat with his head down and AirPods in, whilst you were either sat chatting to Millie or with your head on the desk to stop the room from spinning.

he sat next to you with a huff, throwing his bag down on the floor like this situation was a huge burden. like sitting next to you was physically hurting him. you glanced at him, sending him a brief awkward smile as you locked eyes. but when he saw your sclera turned red, and the slight puffiness under your eyes, he scoffed and faced the front. you ignored him. you were used to being judged even before the substances. you were never the prettiest one in the room, and your parents never let you forget it. the acne that started at eleven. the ‘baby fat’ that you could never seem to jog off. the short, ugly bob that’d only recently grown out. you’ve always been used to the judgement, so it didn’t bother you. you simply put your head in your arms down on the desk and blocked out whatever Mrs Adams was droning on about.

before you even knew it, the bell rang. you shot up from your seat a little too quickly. your head started to spin, and your stomach started to churn. Chris smirked slightly at the look of your discomfort, but didn’t say anything. you sling your tote bag over your shoulder and saunter out the room. as you do so, you bump into Chris’ shoulder. you look backwards over your shoulder, seeing the annoyed look on his face. you notice the way his eyebrows are slightly creased downwards, the way his jaw is clenched, and the way his hold on his backpack tightened just enough for his knuckles to pale. you smirked.

you didn’t know much about Chris Sturniolo, but what you did know was that, as long as he always gets annoyed that easily, this year was going to be a lot of fun.

hello beautiful people!! I hope you enjoyed this little intro. likes and reblogs are very highly appreciated!! please let me know your thoughts. ask questions. interact. my main account is @fadedstvrn <3

🏷️ @sturnsblogs @courta13 @izzylovesmatt

©️tiggerchris

[doechris]

INTRODUCING:

teenagedirtbag!chris

18. “creep” by radiohead. loner. redbull. the colour black. fights. converse. vandalism. straight. silver chain. smart but pretends to hate school. anti-drugs. video games. listens. horny. trespassing. cocky. AirPods. middle fingers. triplet.

messy!stoner!reader

17. “no surprises” by radiohead. lots of friends but really just lonely. vodka lemonade. pink lace. wind-up. doc martians. pink rolling papers. not smart and doesn’t care. cherry red lipstick. talks. scared of intimacy. quick-witted. digital camera. sarcastic smiles. only child.

AAAAAA MY BABYS. I’m so insanely excited about this. please let me know if you like the concept or not!! I’m lowkey so scared about this but I’m hoping it’ll turn out amazing!!

©️doechris 2025