#tw intoxication

[shrimperini]

❕ cw alcohol intoxication ❕

hi chelley fans. decided to do a part 2 of the party comic because im so incredibly normal about them❤️ also im weak for the drunk flirting trope so fjsicisjfjdjf

part 1 here!

[mini-ism]

#— LIT CIGARETTES.

paring: gallagher x gn!reader (female anatomy, no use of “breasts”)

words: 3.1k

synopsis: gallagher meets a companion that he invites on a smoke break.

warnings: MDNI! intoxication, p in v, dubcon, alcohol, semi-forced smoking, smoking, cigarettes, kinda OOC?, choking, wrist binding, cunnilingus, light degradation, spanking.

DARK CONTENT AHEAD, DISCRETION ADVISED!!

flick, flick…,

the haze of fresh smoke covered his face as he leaned against the stone wall. the golden hour of penacony was ever-bustling. gallagher took a long drag from the cigarette, taking it out of his mouth with his index and thumb, ashing it slightly, and exhaling the smoke.

a cigarette every so often was refreshing, sometimes soulglad can be sickening. or at least to gallagher, though he might be the sole believer of that. damn near every night was the same, “can i get uh… soulglad?” another drunken patron slurred. the face of this patron is just as muddled as their voice. likely because every night, every person asked for a bottle of soulglad. gallagher obliged, as it was his duty, finishing wiping a glass, then uncapping a fizzy bottle of the drink, and passing it to them without a complaint or a mere word.

he took another puff, a longer one. he sighed, murky grey clouds leaving his mouth and nostrils. he put the cigarette back into his mouth, brushing his long, brown hair out of his eyes, savoring every intoxicating breath. he crushed he butt beneath his shoe, tobacco smearing onto penacony’s smooth pavement, watching it fizzle from existence. another benefit of the dream, one could assume.

he scratched at the stubble on his jawline, walking back into one of the many bars he frequently bartended at, bracing himself to serve more damn soulglad for the nth time tonight.

the chestnut-brown hair on his shoulders bounced as he strode back inside, music blaring a bit too loudly for his liking. he cracked his neck, then his gloved knuckles, and made his way behind the counter.

“how was your break?” a coworker inquired, “you smell like smoke.”

“it was alright, i guess. nothin’ too special.” he spoke, “is that a bad thing?”

music rang in his ears as he wiped down a few more glasses. the same coworker tapped on his shoulder after a few moments, “gallagher, look to your left. total cutie over there.”

gallagher wasn’t the type to pay attention to anyone’s looks. he listened. that was simply his job. he just so happened to look to his left, grumbling slightly. “i mean, they’re alright. what’dya want me to say?”

“come on, man, just have fun for once. i get that this is your job, but it never hurts to bend the rules a lil’, huh?” they responded, “i’ll give you like, 200 credits if you talk to them.”

“make it 500 and i might.” he joked, watching as his bartending partner pulled exactly 500 credits out of their breastpocket, slipping it into his pocket.

“do it,” they snickered.

he watched as you settled into your seat at the bar, waving to your friend from across the club. “anything i can get you tonight?” a voice rung from behind you, slightly raspy, yet smooth, and tired.

he was just as tired-looking as his voice led you to believe, “well, firstly, are you okay?” you asked curiously, hands resting on the edge of the marbled countertop.

“yeah, i’m alright. is there anything i can do for you?” he asked again, his amber-colored eyes focused on you, accented by his eyebags that happened to be deeper than oceans. he was visibly aged, and had scars littered all over him.

in the quiet moment you were investigating his appearance, he too was “checking you out.” you looked nice, now that you were in front of him. his vision wasn’t the best nowadays, but it suffices well enough to delineate all the delicate features painted onto your skin and your face. he liked that.

“could i get a crimson sunset?” finally, something that wasn’t a fucking soulglad.

“sure thing, not a problem.” gallagher grabbed a glass with his hand, pouring a mixture of syrups, drinks, and spirits into the glass masterfully. he smiled tiredly at you, passing the drink to you on a red napkin. the drink itself was a pretty red-orange color that faded into a deep purple.

“mind if i get myself a drink?”

“are you allowed to do that?” you replied.

“well, i mean, never hurts to bend the rules a lil’, yeah?” he answered, unintentionally charismatically.

his accidental confidence made you laugh slightly, “go ahead, mister…?”

“gallagher,” he said, pouring himself his own drink. he isn’t mixing it with anything, just straight alcohol from the bottle into the same type of glass you have in your hand, “no need to be so formal. you can just call me gallagher.”

“alright, gallagher, it’s nice to meet you.” you grinned brightly, taking note of the faint smile painting his features and lighting up his dull eyes.

“it’s nice to meet you too… ah…” he trails off.

“(your name).” you replied, giggling slightly as you take a sip from your drink, admiring the complex profile of gallagher’s mixing skills, “by the way, this is really good.”

“thanks,” he shuffles awkwardly, mimicking you by taking a swig of his own drink, “it’s really nothin’ though, just a lil’ bit of gallagher magic.”

he watches as you sip from your drink again, raising his glass again and finishing the rest of the liquid inside. he can feel the alcohol burning in his throat as he drinks it down hungrily, blurring his own mind as you start to talk again. he’s listening, but not a word is registering in his head. gallagher refills his glass with a more potent drink, leaning over the counter and propping himself up with his toned forearms.

“…and that’s how i ended up here, with my friend,” you finished off, the mix starting to get to your head too. he has no idea you could be such a talker, it almost makes him want to shut you up, but that’s not nice and he should play fair! he never does anyways.

“well, ain’t that a story!” he laughs, sipping on his own concoction again, flashing a grin, “here, lemme getcha another drink, it’ll be on me, hun.”

“thank you, gallagher!” you smiled drunkenly, watching him show off his mastery of mixology like it’s a performing art, pouring the beautiful mixture into your new glass.

“mmmn, what? you like the way i do that, eh?” he teased, leaning over the marble counter again, sliding you the glass, “so what if i do?” you teased back, your words starting to slur together to form one big super-word.

“i can do it again for ya, if ya like,” he breathed, his tired eyes starting to look more like bedroom eyes.

“really? can you?” you nearly begged, awe-struck at his sheer skill.

“yeah, i can show you everything i can do. ‘m not jus’ good at mixin’ drinks, y’know?” he said, sending a shiver down your spine, making your back nearly arch with just a single sentence. he looked at you again, greedily sipping his drink, his eyes imploring you to do the same without a single word from him. you do just as they say, watching the spark ignite within his pupils like a flick of a lighter. his lips curl into a smile as he finishes his mahogany colored concoction, a marvel of alcoholic creativity. you cough slightly as you finish up your own drink, the burn in your gut rising like a flame. it travels from your tummy all the way up your esophagus, tickling your lips with a sting.

“do you like it, babydoll?” he collects the glasses, putting them in the sink for later, “i hope you did. i worked really hard on making you a nice drink.”

you nod sloppily, words caught in your throat like the eager blaze that’s simmering within your body. words are barging into your mind, but you cannot decipher, nor string them together, properly. “that’s wonderful. would’ya mind joining me for a smoke break?”

“sure, we can do that…” you smile, your cheeks hot and your skin prickly with fire. gallagher walks out of the bar, helping you walk out of the bar with enough stability. he leads you back to the wall he stood against before, the golden hour much darker than before. you leaned against him within the alleyway.

“have you smoked before?” he asks, taking out a cigarette from the carton in his pocket, where the credits from before lie.

“nooo…” you slur, giggling against the wall as gallagher helps you up, the unlit smoke between his lips.

“…wanna try?” he asks again, lighting the cigarette, flick, flick, shielding the flame with his free hand.

you considered it for a moment. you never thought you’d touch a cigarette, nevertheless smoke it, yet here you are, “uh… sure…?” you said with a hiccup.

gallagher takes a long inhale of the cigarette, his lungs filling with smoke before he takes it out, filling your own mouth with smoke as he puts his lips on yours, gently cupping your jaw with his other hand.

he exhales the rest of the smoke, watching you cough with a weirdly sick pleasure, “you like it?”

just as you were about to whine and say ‘no,’ the rush of nicotine blurs your mind, you can barely muster up a whimper, let alone nod your head weakly. “thas’ good, hun.”

he passes you the lit cigarette, watching you take it between your fingers as you take a small puff, the paper that wraps the tobacco burning up. again, you cough, but the menthol soothes your throat a bit more this time.

“feels real good, don’t it?” he breathes on the junction of skin between your collarbone and your neck, the burn boiling over as you exhale, feeling his hot breath against your prickly skin.

gallagher takes the cigarette from you again, taking a long drag from it, and exhaling in front of you, a bit of the smoke tingling within your throat.

“gonna feel better sooner or later,” he murmurs, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and kissing the intersection between your carotid artery and your clavicle, tickling your skin with his raw, swollen lips.

you whine as his hands crawl up your body, feeling your chest and your covered up nipples. he’s getting handsy as he finishes the rest of the smoke, holding it in for longer, then exhaling in your face with a sinister chuckle, “you’s needy. i gotcha babydoll, don’t worry.”

you fall into him as he crushes the butt-end of the cigarette, the orange menthol filter dissipating out of existence. his gloved hands feel all over every inch of your torso, from your collarbones, to your low abdomen. gallagher plants more rough kisses onto you, picking you up and leaning you against the wall, your back facing him as your cheek presses against the cold, hard surface of the wall.

your vision is spinning as your intoxicated state seeps deeper into your mind and body, watching as he unties his pretty magenta-colored tie. gallagher binds your hands with the tie, keeping your hands behind your back, in place and secure.

“you wanna stay here like this? i’m not gonna ask you again, so you’d best tell me now if you don’t wanna go through with it.” he commands, his grip tight, but loose enough not to bruise flesh.

truthfully, you want to do this, your body does too. your words are failing you as you make little noises, your cheek scraping lightly against the ragged surface. you mustered up a meager, “wannit, gall… ger…”

“yeah, hun?” he whispered breathily, heat radiating against the shell of your ear, “you gonna be good f’me?”

“yessss…” you whine in response, shuffling against the wall, your mind buzzing with every possibility.

“thas’ good, so good already.” he smiles, you can feel his lips curl against your neck as he gives you another little kiss, his raw, rough lips grazing against your tender, needy flesh.

gallagher was buzzed himself, he’s always had a high tolerance for things like alcohol and nicotine, being high off life was almost entirely new. something he hadn’t felt in so long, and here you were, back arched, being all obedient. all for gallagher, bartender and bloodhound (that of which you were unaware of).

in a swift motion, he tugged your at your clothing, moving it out of the way, so he can paw at your undergarments. you looked so cute like this, wrists bound and legs spread. all of this just so he can see what awaits him, “my, my, you’re all wet.”

“nnnmh, yeaaah…” you heaved, you’re dizzy, needy, you’re hammered, and you’re vulnerable. how much more adorable can you get? his fingers traced circles around the dampened spot in your underwear. you’re soaked already.

gallagher pulled your underwear to the side, tucking it in the crevice between your lip and your asscheek, working his fingers on your wet slit. he took some of your slick on his finger, rubbing your clit with his dominant hand. he gave your pussy a self-indulgent slap, before teasing your entrance with a thick finger. wordlessly, it slipped in with relative ease, eliciting a loud moan to pass through your swollen lips. he chuckled at your reaction, pulling it out, then slipping the digit back inside.

another moan fell from your lips, throaty and whiny. his finger started to move inside you, at first unbent and quickly fucking you. you slid against the wall, knees buckling slightly, before gallagher’s free hand pinned you to the wall, keeping you in your place. his single finger curled inside you, hitting your spongy g-spot. you mewled, crooning at the sensation, practically seeing stars. your vision started to blur as black splotches started to cloud it, but all you could feel, think, understand, want, smell, need, was him. he continued fucking you with his finger, watching your legs shake and your juices drip down his finger and onto his gloved palm.

“feels real nice, don’t it?” he cooed, slipping in another digit without warning. his scarred, toned arm flexed with every movement, curling and slipping inside and outside of you. his fingers made their way to your clit, rubbing it with vigor and passion, before he spread your other lip with his thumb and put his lips to your pussy. he gave it a rough, sloppy kiss, pulling away to listen to you cry out. nobody could care any less, they were experiencing the dream. in all actuality, this feels like a dream within a dream, if that makes sense. you were just so amazing, you were alluring. definitely worth more than 500 credits. he gave your pussy another sopping wet kiss, his scratchy stubble rubbing against your skin, creating friction. his tongue darted to your clit, licking and sucking it between his lips and teeth. his thumb still held your cunt open. gallagher gave you a couple more long licks and kisses for good measure, savoring your every drop, relishing your taste, before standing up.

“ready, babydoll?” gallagher rhetorically asked before unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants (which happened to be the same magenta color as his tie). you nodded, drooling and zoning out. all you could understand was the pleasure he was giving you, all you could care about was how much more pleasure he could give you, “great.”

he pulled his thick cock out from his boxers, lining it up against your entrance, savoring the difference in size. your small, little cunt and his big, fat dick. how cute. gallagher re-adjusted you, spreading your legs just a bit further, then putting some pressure on the lumbar portion of your back, causing you to arch more instinctively.

without warning, the burning within your body had boiled over again between your legs, the stretch to accommodate his girthy dick nearly destroying you. you screamed, but nobody gives a damn, “scream all you want, babe, you gonna take it.”

gallagher pulled out again, just a little, to slam back into you, watching your cunt stretch as much as it could. he savored how warm and tight you were, tight as a vice could get. your eyes rolled into the back of your head, saliva dribbling your chin and onto your clothing. a loud crack, followed by a searing pain, flooded your senses. his palm made contact with your asscheek again, slapping it roughly for a second time, pushing himself into you with as much force as he could use before breaking you in half.

“you takin’ me so good, ‘m proud of ya, doll,” he chuckled, smiling again. gallagher had found a pace inside you, his hand snaking up to your throat and wrapping around it. he applied pressure to your jugular and carotid with his thumb and his other four digits on their respective sides. he sped up slightly, gripping your hips as air flow lessened.

gallagher continued to slam-fuck into you, speeding up with every thrust, chasing his high. his breath was hot and heavy, huffing in your ear as your vision and hearing fizzled out like the cigarette butt on the pavement. your breathing became ragged as he bullied your pussy ruthlessly, “you ever been fucked like this, huh?”

air rejuvenated your senses as he let go of your throat, you heaved a weak, drunken “no.”

“ain’t no dick good as gallagher’s, huh? good as mine, mmm.” he groaned, his hips colliding with yours faster and faster andfasterandfaster…, “gonna cum, babydoll. i ain’t pullin’ out, though.”

you hoarsely whined, your fucked-out brain needing more of him, any morsel of him is good enough, and it just feels so good, and youreabouttofuckingcumtoo…

“mmn, i’m cumming, hun. i’m gonna fuckin’ cum in you, you needy bitch. fuuuuckyeah…” gallagher’s grip on your throat tightened the moment the burning hot coil in your stomach loosened, allowing you to orgasm and scream out his name just as soon as he came. he groaned and huffed in your ear, his brown hair messy and clinging to his sweaty face, “feels so fuckin’ good, fuuuck.”

you let out a choked noise, prompting him to let go and pull out of you. he leaned over you, resting his forehead against his forearm, that of which was supported by the wall you leaned against. your knees wobbled, and before you could fall, gallagher instinctively held your abdomen with his other arm, tucking you against his chest. you stared at his scars, which littered his arm, as you came down from your intense orgasm.

“…you okay?” he asked with a newfound gentleness. he helped you back up as he untied your wrists and pulled up his pants, fixing his belt. he chuckled, “i bet you’re tired.”

“very,” you panted back in response.

“how ‘bout i clock out and carry you home, how’s that sound?”

“sounds amazing, gallagher,” you leaned against him as he lit another cigarette before walking back into the nightclub.

[princessbrunette]

König x drunk!reader

Reader goes out with friends and calls König to pick her up and he’s never seen her drunk before

She’s so sweet and needy and touching him so inappropriately while he just wants to get her home safely and prep her for nighttime

He’s watching her eyes practically change to heart shapes as he has to manhandle her and be stern since she’s not following his instructions

you knew what you were in for when you decided your drink of choice for the night would be wine.

as expected, each sip went straight to your clit — so by the time your boyfriend had arrived to collect you, you were on a mission. unfortunately, you’d indulged in the feeling just a little too much, and couldn’t even walk in a straight line.

he stands there with his thick arms crossed over his chest and you wanna fuck him right there on the street outside the bar. has he gotten bigger?

“missed you.” you slur when you reach him, wrapping your arms around his middle. his big hand cups the back of your head, brows knitting a little of the wave of wine-stench hits him, pulling back to get a look at you. he wonders how much you’d had to drink, but realised that asking you is probably pointless as the number you fabricate will be probably less than half of what it really is.

“saw you only a few hours ago, my sweet.” there’s a questioning tone lingering in his voice, and he wraps an arm around your back to guide you to his car without you stumbling into any strangers.

“yeaaah, but i wanted you.” you were whining, smushing yourself into his side to be as close as possible.

he wrangles you into the car, leaning over you to push your seatbelt in — chuckling to himself trying to ignore the hungry smile in his peripheral vision. “what am i gonna do with you, hm?” he tsks light heartedly, turning to you briefly and pinching your chin before standing back up outside your car door.

“i have a few ideas.” you bat your eyelashes and his shoulders shake with a laugh, shutting your door and walking round to his side.

“minx.” he accuses once he’s in, turning the car on. you grin and say nothing, and he thinks you might behave — maybe you’re feeling more sappy than sexy tonight, but as soon as he starts driving— using the extent of his wide palm to turn the wheel as he backs out of his space, stretching an arm behind your seat to glance back — you’re biting your lip in a way he knows all too well.

“ah, liebling — don’t try anything f-”

“m’just so wet, kö. don’t you wanna play with me?” you’re touching his arm, batting heavy black lashes at him and honestly — he wants to. but not like this, never.

“i want to play with my sober girlfriend.”

“i’m fiiiiine.”

“mhm…”

you get home, and become more of a nightmare than before — struggling in a fit of giggles as he tries to pull one of his oversized shirts over your naked frame.

“lemme stay naked, maybe i can — oops— maybe i can convince you—” you giggle breathlessly, accidentally knocking your purse off the dresser in the process.

he tsks, patience wearing a little thinner now as the exhaustion from the day hits him and he grabs your wrists, not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to take full control, manoeuvring your body to follow his orders.

“not playing with you now, little one. do as you’re told.” he frowns, pulling your head through the head hole of the shirt with a pop, a more disheveled version of you appearing. your eyes go wide and a little watery, your smaller hands clasping his black undershirt that he wore. your gaze doesn’t leave him as he continues readying you for bed, finally silent.

when he finally lays you down beside him, letting you curl up into his body, he squeezes your shoulder.

“did i hurt your feelings?” he hums, taking to rubbing at the skin of your arm.

you shrug, sulking.

“just want you.” you whine, playing with the drawstrings of the sweatpants he’d changed into. not quite sure of your next move, he slowly takes your hand and pulls it away from the spot, intertwining his fingers with yours as consolation.

“and you can have me, tomorrow. i’ll make the headache you’re going to have go away. deal?” he tilts his head to look at you as you exhale through your nose, staring at him through bleary eyes in the low light.

“mhm.”

“good girl.”

[goldenbituin]

Let's Find Larry: The New Year's Special (2004)

Another animated special from the now defunct Bituin Galaxy channel, this cartoon features a man named Larry as he tries to leave his troubles behind and enjoy the New Year's Eve festivities of Middlewood.

[littledisgustingart]

tumblr can (hopefully) get a snippet of my spiderdads brainrot as a treat,,, have some Miguel treating Peter to his venom and its glorious effects

see full artwork here (18+ only!)

[rotzaprachim]

Under cut for traumatic content but

Yesterday whilst biking home from my job at rush ish hour I was full on hit by a car that ran past speed limit through a stop sign/four way stop and hit the side of my bike full on. I was biking through a pedestrian crosswalk when it hit me. So far it seems like I had a miraculous survival in terms of I have a broken leg and various torn things, some head stuff, but - it’s overall shockingly good. Still processing that it happened and hit me and for a while my brain was so stuck in the half second of it Happening. For what Happened, a stroke of grace - there were several pedestrians including children in the area and the car hit only me, who was wearing a helmet and protective footwear for my commute.

the driver hit and fled the scene of the crime. Later the police came to collect by bike and helmet, which had both been destroyed, for evidence. The person who hit and ran was driving under the influence, and non receptive to external information and stimuli. Because they do not have the financial resources to pay the $5000 dollar bail they are being held until trial. I don’t…. For a while my mind was so stuck in the half second of the crash, replaying it over and over again. I don’t know how to feel about this. I’m so angry. I’m so angry at the situation. I’m so angry I almost died and that someone cared so little that I was almost killed by somebody. I’m so angry at the situation and the local situation that ended up with someone barreling through a pedestrian commuter area while intoxicated. I’m so angry about inequalities and the violence of drugs and alcohol and I’m so angry at the police and how they got involved and I’m angry about the incarceration. What does that do? What does that do for fucking any of it? I hate that person. I hate that person for how close they came not just to killing me but the middle aged woman and the children on the crosswalk. But I didn’t die, and my injuries I will recover from, and so there’s someone else whose life will be ruined from this, and it isn’t me.

[a-lil-perspective]

Hunter, drunk: Cross, I’m so proud of you. You’re such a good man but you never come home anymore. *cries*

[mhathotfic]

The urge to explore the taboo of sleeping with your favorite, adopted because I won’t write actual incest, cousin is strong tonight.

I’m tried so I’ll try in the morning to explain it better but I’m thinking about your favorite big cousin Eijirou always spoiling you rotten whenever you get to visit each. It was always innocent previously, but now everything is different.

He took you along with his friends to go drinking because you were finally of age and next thing you know you’re naked in his bed, face down ass up while he plowed into you.

You surprise yourself by being more than willing let him do it again sober.

[george-harrisons-last-biscuit]

Hi friends, I am considering getting high. Send me asks about the Beatles so I can terrorize this fandom.

[gentlegaalee]

Chapter 1: pages 33-36💦

[evansbby]

is it bad i want the horrible, disgusting, non-con public fucking between POYT!steve and omega 🥺🥺🥵 i just know it was nasty

gahhhhhh omg (TW major noncon, forced intoxication)

It would’ve been toxic af, just poyt!Steve wanting to show off to his alpha jock friends, making omega drink when he knows she’s never ever drank alcohol before, slipping something into her drink😳 then pulling her onto his lap with her back to his chest and spreading her legs, lifting her dress up. And she’d be like “Steve what’s going on?” And he’d be like “nothing baby, just relax, go to sleep” 😳😳😳 meanwhile he’d put his dick inside her and bounce her on his dick and all his friends are watching and egging him on😳 basically that was what was gonna happen RIP

[introverted-pervert]

You're extremely intelligent and people respect you for that. Not your domme though- she thinks you need to dumb down a little.

She'll ask you questions and when you get them right, she makes you take big fat hits off her blunt. When you start getting them wrong, she'll make sure you keep smoking but only to praise you for finally obeying her. It's only until you can't even tell her what your name is that you hear those two words:

"Good girl~"

[livelaughwhump]

probably a very unrealistic scenario but let’s ignore that for a second

we already saw what pre-whump Elliot is like when drunk (which is positively adorable) but what would he be like post-whump?

Yeah, it's a little unrealistic, but who cares?! This'll probably just be a non-canon drabble

Masterlist

Content: alcohol, intoxication, trauma dumping, mention of past abuse/violence, self-deprecation, self-hatred, vomiting

-

The team was huddled around the coffee table in the living room, a board game set in front of them. Elliot was the only one not playing, but he was still present, sitting beside Lyra and struggling not to flinch with every loud sound that left Landon's mouth.

Landon was already tipsy when he had started handing out drinks to the rest of the group. That was probably why he hadn't noticed that he'd handed one to Elliot as well. In fact, no one noticed until near the end of the game.

The first one to notice was Yvonne, whose cup was still nearly full. Her health problems didn't let her drink very often, but she indulged every once in a while. Because of that fact, she was the most sober person in the room, and was therefore, the first to notice Elliot's odd behavior.

Elliot was swaying from side to side, a dopey smile on his face. Yvonne's eyes widened as she eyed the cup in his hand. "Elliot, what are you drinking?" She asked.

All eyes turned to Elliot, but he didn't seem to notice. He giggled and peered into his near-empty cup. "I d-dont know. L-Landon gave it to-to me." Lyra's eyes narrowed and they shot a furious look at Landon. Elliot giggled again. "I'm-I'm so glad you guys r-rescued me. I didn't l-like being a-a pet."

Lyra glowered at Landon and mouthed the words I'm gonna kill you, though it didn't looked like he was paying much attention. He too was looking at Elliot.

Broderick abruptly stood up and said, "I'll go get him some water."

Elliot hiccupped, his heavy-lidded eyes fluttering. "My-My Master wasn't very n-nice to me. He always s-said I was wo-worthless. Th-Then, he would h-hurt me."

"Elliot," Karine said. "You don't have to-"

"S-Sometimes he would b-beat me up," Elliot interrupted, completely oblivious to everything around him. "He also l-liked to wh-whip me. S-Sometimes it was b-because I was b-bad, but-but sometimes he d-did it for f-fun." Elliot's loopy smile faded as he looked up at Lyra. "Some-Sometimes I'm afraid that-that you'll decide to-to do that to me."

Before Lyra could respond, Broderick returned with a tall glass of water, which he handed to Elliot and said, "Here you go, sweet. Drink this. It'll make you feel better."

Elliot shook his head and pushed the water away. "Not th-thirsty. I feel f-fine."

Broderick kneeled down in front of Elliot. "Sweetheart, you're drunk. You need to drink some water or you'll be sick tomorrow."

Elliot giggled again. "I got s-sick at M-Master's house once. He th-threw me in the-the basement until I-I was-was better."

"Elliot, please drink some water," Broderick urged. "It's good for you."

Elliot ignored him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. His lower lip started quivering. "You-You guys are the-the only people that are n-nice to me." Tears started to well in Elliot's eyes. "No-No one l-likes me."

Broderick pressed the glass against Elliot's lips and forced him to take a sip. "There you go," he whispered.

Lyra rubbed Elliot's back. "That's not true, Elliot. People like you."

Elliot shook his head, his tears beginning to spill over. "I-I don't l-like me." Broderick forced Elliot to take another sip. Elliot sniffled as it was pulled away. "I'm-I'm ugly and-and stupid. I-I..."

"It's okay, Elliot," Lyra said, wrapping him in a gentle but warm hug. They gently rocked him back and forth as he wept into their chest. "You probably won't remember this tomorrow, but we really do love you. We love being with you and we love having you here. Just let Broderick take care of you, okay?"

Elliot sniffled again. "D-Don't f-feel well," he mumbled.

"What was that?"

Almost immediately after she said it, Elliot gagged and clamped both hands over his mouth.

Broderick immediately picked Elliot up out of Lyra's hold and carried him to the bathroom. Broderick set him in front of the toilet and guided him to lean over it. Elliot gagged several more times before finally retching into the toilet. Broderick's hand rubbed calming circles into his back as he cried and heaved.

"There you go," Broderick whispered. "Get all of it out. You're okay. I'm here."

When Elliot was done, Broderick took some toilet paper and wiped away the excess spittle on Elliot's chin. Elliot sniffled and wiped away his tears.

"You okay, sweet?" Broderick asked.

Elliot blinked a couple times before he said, "Tired."

Broderick smiled. "Then, let's get you to bed. I'm sorry, sweetheart. We shouldn't have let you drink that."

Elliot's eyelids fluttered, and Broderick couldn't even tell of Elliot had heard him. Broderick pursed his lips. "Would you like me to carry you or can you walk on your own?"

Elliot hesitated. For several long seconds, he didn't even move, until he leaned back over the toilet and vomited one more time for good measure.

Once he was finished, he sniffed again and said, "C-Carry me?"

Broderick smiled. "With pleasure, sweet."

-

Fun fact, I don't drink so I had to ask my mother what it feels like to be drunk😅

Still not sure if I did this correctly, but I hope you enjoyed it!

If anyone has any other requests, suggestions, or questions for me or my characters, please feel free to send them!

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[cheeseburgersinparadise]

do you ever think about how intox is hot as fuck