say yes to drugs

Make up - Request

Requested by anon:  HI! I was wondering if you could write a smut one shot for Sherlock?😇he & the reader were in a fight (not important one )in 221B and they end up having rough (always with consent) make up sex against the wall or a table? Thank you!

Summary: Everything from above.

Pairing: Sherlock x reader.

Word count: 1,357

Warnings: Smut - rough, unprotected, dirty talk (I guess, but not really), hair pulling, dominant!Sherlock

A/N: “Against the wall or a table” why not both? ;) ;) ;)
Also, I love him in that purple shirt so…


Originally posted by imaginesherlock

“You’re always like this!” (Y/N) exclaimed, “You’re a… Psychopath!”

“Sociopath! Sociopath!” Sherlock replied in the same loud tone, “I’ve told you a million times I’m a high-functioning sociopath!”

“I don’t care!” She hissed. Sherlock huffed loudly, and (Y/N) then decided to leave – it was unfair for Mrs. Hudson to hear them fighting – so she grabbed her pursed and tried to walk out but, before she could open the door, Sherlock grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He inquired angrily.

“Out.” She snapped.

“You are supposed to be helping me with this case.” Sherlock spoke. His words were carefully pronounced and his blue eyes shined in rage, causing a both intimidating and tense aura around the couple.

“Maybe I don’t want to help anymore.” She muttered and tried to pull away. But Sherlock was quicker. He pushed her to the table next to him, which had papers and folders with disgusting pictures of the victims, besides his laptop that had now turned off due to the lack of activity.

His hands moved from her arms to the lower part of her back and pulled her against his chest, crashing his lips against hers in a ravishing kiss. (Y/N) tried to push him away, but ended up giving in to him, like she always did.

He nibbled on her lower lip, while his hands got rid of her blazer, throwing it off to the floor. (Y/N)’s fingers found the curly locks on his head and twirled them, pulled them, angrily but at the same time in that way she knew Sherlock adored.

His tongue begged for entrance, which was quickly granted, and he explored every inch of her mouth. Meanwhile, his hands went down to her arse, squeezing it shamelessly. He pulled away slightly to throw the papers at the desk away – in the most dramatic, porn-like motion possible – before carrying her to sit over the wood.

Her legs framed his hips, his hands were cupping her jaw and their lips were against each other, fighting for control. With expert hands she got rid of his coat and unbuttoned half of his purple shirt. Her cold hands wandered over his bare chest, making him shiver.

Keep reading

Weed (Connor Murphy x Reader)

this isn’t gonna be a “you and connor do drugs together” fic if that’s what you were thinking. it’s a “connor has big old crush on you and you need weed for a party but you don’t smoke and it’s awkward and like cute” fic

tw: angst, mentions of drugs, use of weed, drug deal

4005 words :)))

(Y/N) had always been the light at the end of the tunnel for Connor. A deep dark long tunnel called high school that Connor didn’t think he’d ever make out. But (y/n) was is one and only hope, the molecule of illumination that was so subtle, you’d miss it. Though, (Y/N) barely knew Connor. It wasn’t even like she never heard of him, because boy, she heard a fuck ton about the estranged Murphy boy. Some argued he was a sociopath, some just thought he was just a freak. But, despite the rumors, (Y/N) just thought he was some other kid. Although, anytime Connor did anything in school, or someone did something to Connor himself, he’d instantly regret everything because he’d know you’d hear about it. Connor cared more about you than you will ever care about himself, and he didn’t even really know you.

Connor had 2 classes with you this semester. Last year, he had a total of 5; 1 the first semester, and 4 the second (his attendance was really good at that point. Sophomore year, he only had 1 all year (his attendance was very poor that year). And freshmen year, he had 3. That was the year we fell in love with you.

At your district, it was pretty big that there were two middle school. The two of you, went to differing ones, stars unaligned at that stage of your life. The two of you lived close to the each other, just missing the cut off line for the other school. He’d often see you ride your rollerblades and it made him chuckle (you wanted to become a roller derby girl. That didn’t pan out.) He never saw you up close though until high school high. But he knew immediately it was you. You had a huge brush burn on the entirety of your left leg. He overheard you saying it was from skating. Instantly, he was enamored.

He could tell you everytime you had contact which each other. I mean, he probably wouldn’t actually tell you, but you know what I mean.

Freshmen year: he had a total of what he called 1 first person contact, 3 second person contact, and 8 third person. Let me explain. Connor had a chart in his head, he would never dare to write it down: first person meant you talked to him one on one, second person was you guys didn’t speak but made eye contact, and third was you spoke through, with, about him to others. (The about was never in a bad way. He was just always listening nonchalantly and would hear you stand up for him. This made his heart physically hurt he was so in love with you.)

Sophomore year: 0 first person, 6 second person, and 1 third person.

Junior year: 2 first persons (a new record), 10 second persons, and 4 third persons. He was very happy with these numbers.

Senior year: 0 first persons, 0 second persons, 0 third persons. On the contrary. He was not very pleased.

This bothered him. Was he doing something wrong, did you hate him, did you somehow find out about his (Y/N) Interaction Tally sheet that was in his head? The latter was ridiculous, but he didn’t get it. Maybe it was too early in the year.

Today was the day he could add a tally to the first person score board though. Or rather, a multitude of marks.

He wasn’t going to come to school. His parents (his dad really) were being assholes to him, his sister was being cold, and he was in a mood. A “I have to get high by 7:30 am or I will not make it to 7:30 pm” mood. Zoe left without him (as per usual) so he decided to walk and get super fucking stoned. You were in this first block. He didn’t really want to get there late, making the odds increase that he will get a second person tally mark (an unwanted one because it’d be obvious he would be high as a kite, and even know he’s known as a druggie at your school, he still thought that maybe you didn’t know that. You did.) But he misjudged how long it would get there. He it was only 20 minutes into first block, an hour class. He was impatient, so he didn’t really want to dwindle around the school, so he signed in and made sure his hair was blocking his eyes.

The door was locked.

“Fuck.” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. The teacher heard the twist of the knob and started to approach the door. This was going to make such a scene.

“Nice of you to join us Mr. Murphy…” the teacher said, Connor noticing him inhaling to smell the scent of weed. Even the teachers knew, he just wanted to confirm that was the reason for Connors tardiness. Connor limply passed the teacher his late slip between his pointer and middle finger. Connor tried not to look at you, but his brain forced him. You were staring back, all doe eyed and such. God, that made him weak in the knees. He couldn’t look away, resulting in a slight awkward desk bump to his thigh. The only bad thing about smoking and Connor was it gave him tunnel vision, his peripherals were limited. The desk assault made him quickly cease eye contact with you, embarrassing him indefinitely. Plus, his thigh kind of hurt now. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, so he didn’t hear a single word of the teachers lecter, didn’t take a single note, and didn’t realize that you were racking up points in the second person tally list. You couldn’t stop looking at him.

An amount of three thoughts began to consume your mind: How high is Connor Murphy? Does Connor Murphy sell weed? When did Connor Murphy get cute?

You had a dilemma. You were going to a party. A dumb college party your friends were dragging you too. And you were nervous. You, being the innocent flower you were, had never smoked weed in your life. But since your anxiety was going to be off the charts, you needed a little help. Your friends told you weed would help, and you’d look so cool at a party smoking weed. You didn’t care about the cool part, you just wanted to make it through the night. And Connor Murphy might be your answer.

You had your first and last block with him. You decided over the course of the day, you were going to approach him about the matter, which in turn, made you about as nervous as the party. Not that Connor scared you or anything. You’d spoken to him before and even though he was distant, he wasn’t rude my any means. But what if he didn’t sell, what if he gets offended that you assumed he did. You didn’t want to ask around if he sold either, you didn’t need people thinking you smoked. Not that it was a bad thing, but your dad was on the school board, and word would get around, so you decided best to keep it on the low down. Your last block came, and you kept looking over at Connor, figuring out what you were going to say. Were drug deals usually this stressful? (a/n: yes, don’t do drugs.)

Connor notice you were staring now. He became instantly self conscious. Like did he look weird to you, did you hear something? Because Connors been off the radar for a while so if you did hear anything, it was definitely a rumor.

The bell rang. Connor bolted out.

“Connor!” you called faintly out, already messing up your game plan. You wanted to make it seemed like you knew what you were doing. Connor knew it was your voice. He thought he was hearing things, so he turned around, although he was pretty positive it was his imagination. You gave him a smile smile and skipped up to him, Connor feeling as if he fell asleep in class and it was all a dream. There, the two of you stood, in the middle of the hall, with a sworn of students passing by.

You noted Connor was really tall, probably a head taller than you, “Hey…” you forgot your lines. Connor numbed himself on the outside, looking like he didn’t care about what you were about to say. But on the inside, he was freaking the fuck out.

“Do…. uh…. do you…” you were tripping over your words. You had to spit it out, “Sell?”

Connor furrowed his eyebrow. He didn’t think you smoked. He was right.

“What.” he gawked out.

You shifted awkwardly, looking around if people were looking. “You know… like sell…. weed.” you felt dumb. How did these things go. Connor was taken aback however.

He didn’t want to say no to you. Because, Jesus Christ, it was you. This was the longest first person encounter with you. It was longer than all the first person encounters put together. So he lied, “Yeah.”

You smiled… you did it. “Could I buy…” you couldn’t remember the amount. It wasn’t an Ounce, that was a lot. A cut was a lot too. Shit, you couldn’t remember. “Some? Off of you?”

Connor had a dilemma now. He didn’t want to sell you weed, because he didn’t want to think that you smoked like he did. But at the same time, he also didn’t want to say no to you, because maybe you’d never talk to him again since he let you down in this aspect. So he went with the latter. “Sure. When do you need it by.”

“Tonight?” you admitted. How long does it take to get weed. Connor raised his eyebrows, trying to think of how to get it to you.

“Um…. okay. Yeah, I can do that.” He wasn’t sure if he could, but he was going to do everything in his power. “Um. My stash is, like, at my house… So i’m going to have to go home, and i didn’t drive today.”

“I can drive. Um, unless you’re busy. R-right now.”

“No,” he said a little too quickly, deciding to slow his roll. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Alright, let’s go then.” you smiled, leading the way. Connor gripped onto his handle, you couldn’t believe the amount of time you two talked. And how he was going to be in your car.

Shit. This was overwhelming. He had to be cool though.

The car ride to his house was silent. Both of you not wanting to say anything dumb. Connor didn’t need you knowing he was actually a weirdo, and you didn’t want Connor knowing that you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing. Both of you didn’t want the other to think they weren’t cool, even though the two or you totally weren’t.

You pulled up to his house. There weren’t any cars in the driveway.

“Should i come in?” you asked. Connor just nodded, instantly regretting it. His parents were definitely both gone. But Zoe might get there any minute, it depends on if she’s hanging out with friends or not. You followed him inside, taking mental notes on how nice his house was. You noticed pictures of Zoe and Connor when they were kids. He looked a lot different. Shorter hair…. Less lanky…. Happier… You also noticed that there were a lot of current pictures of Zoe, like at recitals. But the most recent picture of Connor, he looked about 12. Connor went straight to his room. It was clean. Like way to clean for a teenage boy. Like a type of clean that was like no one actually lives here. (Like a type of clean where he murders people for a living.) He went over to his book shelf first, grabbing a book. He grabbed a key out of it. Then, he walked over to the other side of his room, unlocking a chest, pulling out a jar, half filled with weed. Still, it was a lot of weed.

“Um how much do you want?” he asked awkwardly. You pulled out a 20.

“However much a twenty can get me.” you said, hoping he wouldn’t catch on to your none smoking ways. He started to, but then he thought maybe you just always smoked other people’s. He was giving you the benefit of the doubt.

“Do you want a lot, like are you sharing it?”

“No. It was just for me… like a one time thing.” you wondered if that sounded dumb.

“Um… You know what. You don’t have to pay me. I’ll just give you a g…”

“No really. I don’t want you to just give it to me. Just take the 20 for a ‘gee’.”

“Never pay $20 for a gram (take notes kids BUT DONT DO DRUGS), just take it. I’m serious.” he took some out, weighing it and put it in a tiny bag.

“Connor, just let me pay you.”

“I said don’t worry about it.” he said, irritated you just won’t take it from him. Like if it were some hot football player, you’d comply. That wasn’t who you were though, Connor was just self conscious.

“Why won’t you let me pay you?”

“Because I don’t want your money. Think of it as a gift.”

“You barely know me.” this made him laugh. You barely knew him, he knew you better than you’d ever know. You fumble with the bag, “Okay. Fine. Thank you. A lot. Um, I guess I’ll see you at school monday…” you go to leave his room but the door opens. You wondered why he insisted on giving you free weed.


Connor got up and ran to the door. Closing it.

“You can’t leave yet.” he whispered yelled, realizing he was scaring you by being so cryptic. “Shit, not in a weird way. My sister just got home, and she’ll wonder why you’re here. And she’ll just know. So can you just wait until she goes to her room and closes her door.” he pleaded.

You nodded, going over on his bed and sitting down. He’d never had a girl on his bed before. And he never thought the girl of his dreams was going to be the first. You looked back down at the bag of weed.


How were you going to smoke this.

Connor watched you intently, trying to figure out what you were thinking.

“Connor.” you whispered. “How… How am i going to smoke this.”

“Wh-what?” he was perplexed. “Don’t you have a piece or something?”

“A what?”

“Don’t you have like a bowl or a one hitter?” you shook your head, confusion written all over your face. He squinted at you. He knew. “You’ve never smoked before have you?”

You eyes went wide. Before you could say anything m, he beat you to it. “Come here…” he mumbled, one of the corners of his mouth pulled up into a crooked smile, going over to his desk and opening the bottom draw. He got out cigars. Why did he get out cigars? “Give me the bag.” he asked kindly. You placed it in his hand, swiping your pinky over his palm, making his heart race. He decided he was gonna add another category to his list, fourth persons: accidentally touching. He opened the cigar packet, carefully tearing a cigar open right at the seam and dumped the weed out. He opened the bag of weed he gave you and started spreading it out in the wrapper, wrapping it back up and licking it shut. He took his lighter at the end of it all, and sealed it.

“Woah…” you purses your lips, “You have skill, Murphy.”

“Smoking weed isn’t a skill.” he retorted. You laughed lightly. He didn’t. “Why do you even want to smoke?” he muttered.

You sighed, “I’m going to some party that i don’t want to go to, but i heard weed makes you chill out. Thus, i am here.”

“Why are you going…. I mean, if you don’t want to go.”

“Friends are going.”

“So if they go you gotta go too?” he asked irritated. The thought of you not having fun and probably getting gropes by some guys pissed him off.

“It’s more than that-”


“It just is Connor… I don’t know. You don’t get it.”

“Because i’m a freak.”

“No…. that’s not what i meant at all. Because you don’t care about trivial things. You don’t have shitty friends.”

“I don’t really have friends in the first place.” he told you, not daring to say a word. You didn’t know what to even say. He could feel your discomfort, “…um. You shouldn’t smoke weed, tonight.”

You leaned on his desk, “And why’s that?”

“Because sometimes it makes you more stressed out. Like it like helps me calm, but something’s it heightens people’s nervousness.”

You go to reply, but you hear Zoe walk up the steps and slam her door shut.

“I guess this is your out.” he joked, getting up to open the door and make sure Zoe was actually in her room. “I’ll walk you out, um, if you want.”

“I’m okay, I think I remember where your front door is.” you smile, about to walk out his bedroom door. “I’ll think about what you said, Connor.”

And with that, you exited out. He waited to close his door until he heard the front door open and shut. Closing his door, Connor leaned his back against it, knees buckling out from under him.

You were in his room. You spent time with him. You talked to him.

He pushed himself you, running over to the window and watched you pull out.

He was in that car. Right, next to you.

He watched your car until he couldn’t see it anymore. His door opened.

“Who was here?” Zoe asked, not daring to actually enter in his room.

“Get out.” he hissed, running back over to slam the door in her face. She put her arm on the door, not letting Connor successfully close it

“That was (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s car.”

“I said Get out.”

“I’m not in.” she remarked, making it evident her feet were surely outside the door frame.

“Why the fuck are you talking to me.”

“Because i want to know why (Y/n Y/L/N) was here.”

He couldn’t tell her it was to buy drugs. Zoe obviously knew he smoked, and although Connor didn’t actually sell other than this one time because it was you, Zoe would for sure tell their parents and Connor would probably be shipped off to rehab or narcotics Anonymous. They didn’t care if he Connor was a drug user, but they’d care if he was a drug dealer.

“She needed math notes.”

“Math notes?”


“(Y/N)’s one of the smartest seniors. Why would she need your math notes.” Connor grimaced at the way Zoe said your. This conversation was overwhelming Connor. He snapped.

“I don’t know, Bitch. Ask (Y/N), I don’t fucking know her intelligence in math. I don’t fucking know her.”

“Why would she ask you, though. She has other friends in that class.” Connor didn’t answer, Zoe kept going, “That doesn’t make any sense.” She looked around Connors room, noticing a jar of weed out in the open. “Oh, my God… Did you sell her weed?” Bingo.

“I didn’t sell her anything.” he hissed back. Zoe noticed a 20 on Connors desk. It was yours, you slipped it there when he wasn’t looking.

“What the fuck is that then?” Zoe pointed at the money.

Shit. “It’s not (Y/N)’s, if that’s what you’re thinking. W-why would she even want weed anyway. That priss doesn’t smoke.” even though Connor lied, it was all true. Expect the priss part, it took a lot out of Connor to call you that.

“Whatever, Connor. If i hear you sold (Y/N) weed, you best believe I’m telling dad. Pack your bags asshole. (Y/N)’s a nice girl.” With that, she left the room. Connor slammed it behind her.

He walked over to his jar of weed, packed a bowl, and got high.

Monday came. Connor got the $20 and placed it on your desk in first period. He pretended to be reading when you came in. The bell hasn’t rang yet. You spotted the $20 immediately. Looking over at Connor, who was very aware of your stares, like painfully aware. He turned the page, when he noticed you moving toward him.

You placed the money in his book, confidently using your fingers to lift his chin up. This made him spin.

“This was a gift. Didn’t your mother tell you it’s rude to not accept presents.” you told him, almost seductively. Connor gulped. “I didn’t do it, by the way. I thought you like to know.”

Connor raised his brows, “wait you didn’t- what did you- h-how was the party then?”

“Pretty bad. I drank bad beer, had to turn drunk college guys down. And for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“What.” thinking he misheard you. He did not.

“I’ll talk to you later, Connor.” you smiled, getting up from his desk and going back to your seat. He wanted to call your name out again, but that’s when he realized.

People were staring. Everyone was staring. The teacher was staring.

Along with Connor, everyone was confused.

The rules reversed at the end of the day. Instead of Connor leaving immediately, you bolted out, Connor trying to catch up to you.

“(Y-Y-N)” he stuttered out, resulting in you turning around, hugging your books to your chest. “I need to talk to you.”

“Listen, Con-”

Connor held out the twenty to you, causing a smile to form. You reached for the bill, gently brushing your knuckles against his. And something happened inside Connor, like he couldn’t hold back to words he was about to say.

“I like you.” he blurted out, the words coming out unsure, more of a question than a statement. He tried to stand up straighter, “Um, I really like you, and I’ve liked you since freshmen year. Actually i’ve liked you since your rollerblading phase.”

Your fingers were still holding a part of the bill in his hands, it was like psuedo hand holding. Your eyes widen, “H-how do you know about that?”

Connor ignored the question, “And I know that you’re you, and sadly, I’m me. But what you said in first period. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Which made me think about all this other shit, and how many regrets I have. And maybe I’ll regret saying all of this to you, but i know I’d regret not saying it more. So… you don’t owe me anything-” he stopped talking abruptly, watching you take the bill and a pen out of your back pocket. You began writing on it, perplexing Connor.

“Here.” you gave the money back, displaying an array of 10 digit numbers. It was your number, Connor held back a smile. “Now you can’t give it back to me, and you can’t even use it because my number’s on there and I defaced it.” you smirked at him, “I don’t have any frat parties to go to this weekend um, so if you’re free. Maybe we could hang out. No beer, no weed, no scumbags. Maybe dinner, or a movie. Or like a stupid date like mini-golf…”

Connor eyes lit up, “I hate mini-golf.”

“Good. Me too, and if you actually wanted to go mini-golfing, I’d take my date offer back.”

“You like popcorn?”

“I love it.”

The two of you walked down the hallway together. All the students were gone, all the teachers were in there rooms, and it was just the two of you.

For once in his life, Connor felt comfortable. Connor felt happy.

The signs as people I know

(I am a Capricorn Sun, Aries Moon, Virgo Rising)

(I’m sorry if I offended anyone in this post lol, your sign is great.)

Aries- really good energy, positive, crazy at some times, nice, a little spacey. Very sweet and considerate.

Taurus- closest friends, warm fuzzy feelings when you’re with them. Good sense of humor, generally cute and bubbly. They like food, sleep, or both. (From my experience this stereotype is true. XD)

Gemini- generally very nice people. You’ll find yourself constantly trying to make plans with them for some reason. They’re a little shy sometimes, but if you’re on their bad side, they’re anger and true character won’t hold back. Possible lack of trust?

Cancer- sweethearts honestly. They’re so nice and lovable, you just wanna hug em. Except they’re so moody. They’re super nice but so fucking moody!! If they like you, they won’t let their moodiness harm your friendship. Very cute and a little sensitive.

Leo- they’re okay. They’re nice, but a tad boring. They never are exciting, but they’re cool Yknow. They’re like the cool people that you try to be like but you never know why you’re trying to be like them.

Virgo- they’re really nice and kind people, they’re likable Yknow…. but for the love of god shut up about your opinions- no one gives a fuck! I’m sorry but it’s true! Like, you’re not always gonna be right, sorry fam. Also very sensitive.

Libra- always fun at first. Like really enjoyable, great for relationship advice, have a good sense of what they like. DO NOT GET ON THEIR BAD SIDE. Once even remotely angered, Libras will socially tear you to pieces. And that friendship will never be the same. Also very sensitive.

Scorpio- what can I say. They’re like drugs. Hot affff. Mysterious. Sarcastic. Funny af. Yes, they’re sexual. They’re really great listeners. Extremely loyal. But omg- they get triggered so easily. Also very narcissistic.

Sagittarius- really cool tbh, really funny, kind of weird, but still cool af. Really curious, always asking a lot of questions. A bit self centered. Always telling random stories about themselves. Lovable, but annoying at times.

Capricorn- what can I say? The GOAT. But seriously sometimes shut up. We get it. You’re a smart and stale asshole. Like you think you always know best, you don’t. At the end of the day a really good and loyal friend who will always come through. A rivaled friendship, but there’s a deeper connection than what meets the eye.

Aquarius- they seem like the OG, you’re best friend, you’ll be obsessed over them at first, then later, it slowly dies and they don’t seem that interesting. Great for talking about completely random things and will take your mind off of most things in life.

Pisces- extremely bubbly, super cute, great sense of fashion. Sometimes you’ll get in arguments with them, resulting in an on off friendship, but if you care as much as they do, the friendship will work out. Great with relationship advice.

What gets me is when people say drug addicts are selfish. Yes, we are at the moment because we have to be. But before our addiction took over our lives, we were some of the most giving people out there. We kept giving away pieces of ourselves until we had nothing left. We had nothing left but to ask ourselves, “What about me?” 

People were always telling me to put myself first… so I finally did, and I paid dearly for it.