#i'd smoke a blunt with him

[cowinthestars]

who would believe me if i said this

was my favourite NPC of any game ever? not for anything he does but because i decided he wanted new eyes to get some bitches with his W rizz.

[cuntwrap--supreme]

I don't think my pothead neighbor actually knows how to smoke weed. He's out on his porch with a blunt and is straight up hacking his lungs up. He sounds like he's severely ill. But nope. This is just the morning routine. Wake up and inhale that pot smoke in, apparently, the most painful way, tears in his eyes, SoundCloud rap in his (and everyone else's because goddamn does this guy not understand he lives in an apartment) ears, hope in his heart. Or something.

[bumblingbee1]

I’d say Father Martin is my favorite antagonist of Outlast. While everyone else can be rather annoying, I love how there’s never a dull moment with this guy. Also, I would actually want to hear whatever stories and whatnot he’s got.

[ariestrxsh]

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧˚ ⋅₊ ⊹🍒⭒⋆. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧˚ ⋅₊ ⊹🍒⭒⋆

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, oral, praise, daddy kink, semi-public, risky, drugdealer!chris, enemies to lovers

✍️ Summary: ✍️ You start rebelling against your cop dad, and who better to be your partner in crime than Chris Sturniolo, the local drug dealer your dad busted last year and told you to stay away from.

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧˚ ⋅₊ ⊹🍒⭒⋆. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧˚ ⋅₊ ⊹🍒⭒⋆

"You look a little out of place here," a familiar voice from behind me broke through the sound of the loud music and startled me, causing me to nearly drop my red solo cup. I whipped around to see who it was. Chris Sturniolo. My dad had warned me about him. He'd busted Chris for selling weed last year, but of course, he didn't learn his lesson and was still just as much of a scumbag as ever.

"What do you want, Chris?" I rolled my eyes after subtly looking him up and down. He looked really fucking good. He was in a black tanktop, a grey flannel, grey sweatpants, and a backward black hat. He held a blunt loosely between his lips as he smiled at me. "What I'd really like is to get out of here and smoke this with you," he said, taking the unlit blunt out of his mouth and holding it out to me.

"You know my dad would kill me if I smoked weed, but he'd kill me twice if I smoked weed with you," I scoffed. "He doesn't have to find out, sweetheart. Plus, he'd be pissed that you were at this party to begin with. Why stop pissing him off now?" Chris responded, smirking at me.

I was going through a bit of a rebellious phase. Growing up with a cop father, there were a lot of things I couldn't participate in as a high school student without being worried he'd play detective and find out or something. But I was finally starting to branch out and test the water a little bit when it came to boys and drinking. After all, I was 19 with nearly no experience. Why not weed, too?

"I've never smoked before," I told him. "I know. I'd love to be the one to pop your cherry," Chris devilishly grinned at me. I rolled my eyes at him and smoothed out the wrinkles in my dress. "Listen, I know you're trying to rebel against your dad. This is your first party. This is probably your first alcoholic drink," Chris said, pointing to the cup in my hand, and he was right, "and I'd love to help you rebel a little bit."

"What's in it for you?" I glared at him. "Revenge on your dad for busting me last year. Corrupting his little girl would be my pleasure," Chris leaned in and whispered to me. His lips brushed against my ear lobe, sending shivers down my spine.

I thought about it for a second. I'd always hated Chris, and I was still weary of him, because my dad had warned me about him, and had pretty much forbade me from ever making friends with him, even though he wasn't my type of people. But I was a little morbidly curious about him. "Fine," I agreed, and he extended his hand out to me, and I took it.

He led me through the crowd and out the back door, our shoes crumpling the dead leaves beaneath us. There was a spot on the side of the house that was tucked away behind a tree that Chris brought me to. We both leaned up against the house, looked up at the starry night sky, and were glad to get away from all the noise and people.

The autumn breeze kicked up as Chris attempted to spark up the blunt. "Here. Help me? Hold your hands out like this," Chris showed me, and I made a little cave with my palms to shield the lighter from the wind. The fire from the lighter was warm, especially compared to the cool outside air.

He took a few hits and then passed it to me. "Now, just take one hit. This is your first time, so you don't wanna overdo it," he said in a low raspy voice, "and make sure that when you inhale, you inhale into your lungs, not just into your mouth before blowing it out."

I held the blunt up to my lips, and as I sucked, the cherry on the end made a faint crackling sound. The smoke felt warm and thick in my lungs. "Hold it, hold it. Okay, now you can exhale. Good girl," Chris whispered, and as I blew out the smoke, I coughed hard, and I wasn't sure if it was from the smoke or if it was from when I gasped when Chris called me that.

"Just sit tight for like ten minutes, and if you don't feel anything, I'll let you have another hit, okay?" Chris said, rubbing my cheek. "Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked him, giving him a skeptical look. "Because I was once in your shoes, experimenting with drugs for the first time, and there was no one looking out for me, but I wish there were," he answered, taking another puff and blowing it in the opposite direction as I was standing. "I have a question for you now," he stated, glancing at me with his beautiful, bloodshot blue eyes, "why do you dislike me?"

"Chris, you're a drug dealer. My dad has warned me about you. You're a dangerous man," I told him, looking down at my shoes. "I promise I'm not dangerous. You don't know me, and your pig dad doesn't know me. Yeah, so I sell weed. That's one very small part of who I am," Chris replied, with a genuine hurt in his voice.

I could relate to his dismay in being judged by someone who doesn't even really know you. After all, having a dad who was a cop and being the odd one out when it came to experience with boys and drugs came with a lot of judgment as well.

"I'm sorry. I guess I don't know you," I responded in a shaky voice. "That's alright. After all, judgments aren't all bad. It's your judgment that tells you not to walk into a lion's den," Chris responded, blowing a cloud of smoke above him, and I watched it dissipate into the night sky.

"I think I'm starting to feel it," I whispered, fixating on the way the smoke danced through the atmosphere with Chris' every exhale. I felt less uptight and less serious. "Does it feel good?" Chris smirked. "Yeah," I said, my eyelids growing heavy while I smiled over at him like an idiot.

"You look so pretty when you're high," Chris whispered, holding the lit tobacco leaf back up to his lips. "God, I wish I were that blunt," I whispered back, and Chris' eyes widened as he smiled in disbelief. "Oh my god, did I just say that out loud?" I asked, covering my mouth with my hand.

"Yeah, is that how you really feel?" Chris asked, winking at me. I blushed. "I'm sorry. I'm high. I was thinking, and I didn't mean to say that out loud. Are weed and alcohol supposed to make you horny?" I asked, glancing down into my nearly empty solo cup.

"It can have that effect sometimes," Chris teased me, offering me the blunt one more time. I accepted it, inhaling just like Chris told me and blowing the smoke out, but this time, because the blunt was so small, it slightly burnt my fingers and lips when I took a drag. I still coughed, but Chris rubbed my back.

"Did you mean that earlier? About wishing you were the blunt?" Chris poked fun at me while he took a last puff and put out the cherry on the bottom of his shoe. I innocently bit my lip and ignored his question.

Chris leaned in and kissed me. His lips were smooth and soft, and he tasted of weed and cherry chapstick. His tongue begged for entrance into my mouth, and I allowed it. His kiss was gentle but powerful, and his hands immediately started wandering my body. I'd made out with boys before and even been touched by them before, but the way Chris' fingers danced across my neckline and down to my waist made me think we might go further than I ever had before.

Chris' hand traveled down to my thighs, and he pushed up the hem of my dress and started rubbing the front of my panties. "Oh my, look at you getting all wet. Is that because of me?" He asked, looking into my eyes. "Mhmmm," I moaned while he held my neck with one hand and slid his other down the front of my underwear. I gasped as he made direct contact with my clit and started gently toying with it.

"Has anyone ever kissed you here before?" He asked while he rubbed it. I looked up at him and shook my head, a little embarrassed. "Well, then, you're gonna love this," Chris whispered to me before he descended to his knees in front of me. He helped me out of my panties, one leg at a time, and he looked up into my eyes while he brought his mouth closer to my pussy.

As soon as he started twirling his tongue over my sensitive nerves in small, concentrated circles, moans started streaming from my lips. "Do you like it when I go slow like this?" He asked, moving his tongue in long, slow licks over it. "Or do you like this better?" He asked, while he sped up the pace and started fiddling my clit with his tongue faster than I thought anyone could ever move their tongue before. My knees grew weak, and I could barely think.

"Just like that," I whimpered while I entangled my fingers with his locks of hair. "Yes, daddy," I squealed. Why did I just call him that? I was so embarrassed, but he didn't stop or shame me. Instead, he started moaning against me, sending vibrations through my body. Maybe he liked that I had called him that.

"Oh, daddy, you lick me so good," I quietly cried out. "Mmmm, good girl. Cum on daddy's tongue, princess," Chris teased me as I swiveled my hips in circles against his gorgeous mouth. I couldn't take it anymore. Chris' words, his tongue, his eyes piercing my soul, the built up sexual repression, it all sent me over the edge.

I could barely stand, but thanks to the wall behind me and the way Chris was holding me up, I was able to let my body fall limp and relax into my orgasm. What a sweet release. The first orgasm that anybody had ever given me besides myself. And it was better too. Chris stood up after he lapped up my mess and leaned beside me back up against the wall, grinning at me.

"I wonder what your daddy would think if he knew you were drinking and smoking with me, calling me daddy while I eat your pussy."

taglist: @ariithereyet @bsturnzmtt @sofieeeeex @ribread03 @fratbrochrisgf @strnlxlqve (if I forgot to tag you, i'm sorry! if you wanna be added to the taglist, let me know!)

[comicalgrievance]

stoner!choso and his HANDS

ft. fem!reader, stoner!choso kamo

pls do not interact if you are a minor xx

content: drug use (weed), sex outside, oral (f receiving)

i'd start this off by saying thank you to @navi-n0 for inspiring this and giving me ideas because choso smoking is hot and i will take no arguments

first off let's start here, HANDS.... imagine this man rolling a blunt for you, hands working delicately yet deliberately (similar to the way he works his hands on you hehe) and he brings up the cigar to his mouth to lick it shut, making eye contact with you the whole time.... OH BOY dirtiest thoughts imaginable...

"angel you're staring..." knowing FULL DAMN WELL WHAT HE'S DOING

and then there's the smoking bit, him lighting up the blunt, tilting his head back as he takes a puff... getting to see the whole expanse of his neck as he blows out smoke... and he groans a little because the man LOOOOVES smoking and he loves weed

he DEFINITELY notices you staring at him, so he'd get up, take another hit and grab you by the chin and tilt your mouth towards his... blowing smoke into your mouth (at this rate this man is HARD)

and i imagine y'all being outside, and he passes the blunt over to your hand, and then gets down in front of you on his hands and knees and starts grazing his fingers on your thighs and your teasing and touching you.... until he unceremoniously rips your pants off and just starts LAPPING his tongue at you. feeling how fucking wet you are against his tongue is just getting him even harder.

and you're obviously distracted, and he looks up at you, so much LUST in his eyes and he just goes "sweetheart dont forget to take a hit, can't waste the good shit now can we?" gesturing over to the blunt, as he goes back down to keep eating you out... and you try to maintain your composure but this man is NOT letting up ever... at some point you have to push his head away so you can hand him back the blunt...

and he's not a man to waste weed, so he gets up, probably finishes off the blunt as quick as he can just so he can take you back inside and finish what he started

ANYWAYS im high and horny, goodbye!

[baby-yongbok]

The Wolves

Boyfriend!Seo Changbin x Afab!Reader

♡ Genre - Explicit (non-idol) - Bad boy!Changbin ♡ WC: 3.2k ♡ CW: Public sex, Marijuana usage, Binnie gets ✨confrontational✨

♡ Summary: Your Changbin's girl, everyone knows that. You're off limits but sometimes the wolves forget that and the two of you have no problem reminding them.

♡ A/N: When I saw these pictures I knew that I'd end up writing to them. I was right. This was something quick that I wrote in a day and saved to be apart of my Binnie Birthday Week! I hope you enjoy + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

✧ Masterlist ✧

  You and Changbin don’t match, that’s been clear since earlier in the night when some of his friends that you never met gave you narrow confused glances as you walked in with him. He’s mean looking and clad in leather while you’re donning a small smile with a knee length sundress that your boyfriend gifted you earlier in the week. 

The friends that you’ve already met know that as odd as the visuals may be the energy between you two is an undeniable match. It just seems to be off putting to those who haven’t seen you two together before. 

“Thought you weren’t coming.” His friend, who you think is named Chris, greets your boyfriend with that complicated handshake that they made up. Changbin tried to teach it to you once but you just can’t do it. “Is this the girlfriend that I’ve heard so much about?” 

You smile over at Chris, giving him a small wave. He gives you a once over, ending with a grin before looking back at Changbin who’s glaring at him. “Behave yourself or no one here will ever see you again.” You giggle at the threat and Chris throws his hands up in surrender. 

“She’s cute that’s all.” Chris looks over at you. “You’re cute, but I’m gonna go so your rottweiler of a boyfriend doesn’t maul me.” 

“Hate that guy.” Changbin mumbles with a crooked smile and you smile back. It’s clear that he doesn’t but you play along anyway. “He seems terrible.” You both laugh as you move further into the group.

 It’s a small and scattered get-together. People are drinking, smoking and everything in between. You’re one of the few girls in the group and you stick out like a sore thumb which earns you a lot of looks from some of Changbin’s friends you know and some that he’s told you to stay away from. 

The two of you are sharing a blunt when Chris pops back up and sits next to Changbin. He leans in and whispers something that turns your boyfriend's face sour on his exhale. You’re pressed against his side so you can see it all as you take another drag of the joint. 

His eyes wander across the room and over to a group of guys that you know he doesn’t like. You call them the wolves. From what you’ve heard there have been a couple of fights between him and the one staring back in this direction. The one staring at you. 

Chris pats Changbin’s shoulder and smiles over at you before retreating back to his spot with the freckled blonde across from you. 

“Binnie?” He hums but his eyes stay on the man across the room. “What’s the matter?” 

Your speech is slower than usual, a clear indication that you’re on the road to being high outta your mind. Whatever Jisung put in that blunt is definitely some serious shit. “Nothing, bunny.”

He pulls his gaze away, looking over at you with mean eyes. You know that look, that’s the look he gets when he’s feeling possessive. “C’mere.” 

He takes a deep drag of the blunt and you sit up to lean into him. He grabs your jaw lightly and you fall into place, following his gentle lead. He blows the smoke into your mouth and you inhale every bit that you can. Once he’s completed his exhale his lips crash to yours. He kisses you hard and rough, keeping one hand softly on your jaw and the other grabs your waist to pull you closer. 

You exhale the smoke through your nose, the hand that isn’t supporting your weight against the battered sofa is rubbing across Changbin’s lap and over his soft bulge. You know that he’s trying to send a message and you have no problem playing along. 

He breaks the kiss, pulling away a bit to look you in the eyes. His are just as red and droopy as yours. His dark pupils are dilated but now there’s something different about them, something foggy and heavy. “I don’t know if I should’ve brought you here tonight.” He whispers, eyes searching yours.

“Mm, Are the wolves hungry?” Changbin turns his head for a second, he looks back at the men across the room to find them all staring back at him. Some with clenched jaws, some with smirks on their face and some just watching. You’ve even seemed to earn the attention from some others outside of that group. “They are.” 

You hum, untangling yourself from him and standing from the couch. You offer him your hand and he takes it, standing with you. “Then let’s feed them.” You sneak a mean glare to the men across the room and their smiles fade almost instantly.

“Outside.” Changbin mumbles before he springs into action. He moves you in front of him and leads you to the back exit where there’s nearly no one around. Just a couple making out on a fire escape and Changbin’s friend’s Minho and Hyunjin getting head from some girl over in the dark corner by the door. 

The cool summer air hits you hard once you step out of the door. It feels different with the weed in your system. It feels good, but not nearly as good as Chagbin’s hands on you as he leads you down to the end of the - surprisingly clean - alleyway.

He pushes you up against the graffiti littered brick. His hands wander over your breast and up your arms as yours squeeze and scratch at his exposed muscle and over his leather clad shoulders. The hood to his jacket falls back leaving him with just his hat as he leans in for a kiss. It’s hungry and hard and fast but organized. It’s firm and possessive. 

In Changbin’s head he’s still kissing you in front of them. He’s showing the wolves what they can’t have and he wants to make it clear, you’re off limits. You on the other hand are messy. Your movements are blurry and hurried as you unzip your boyfriend's jacket and move to his belt buckle. You’re still showing off to the wolves in your head too. You want to make it clear to them that you’re his, you’re off limits.

You’re whining into Changbin’s mouth and he hastily swallows every sound. He can tell that you’re getting antsy, you want him to touch you, that’s how you always get when you’re high. You’re the touchy and horny type while he’s the laid back type. 

“Needy little thing." He pulls back and strips his jacket off of his shoulders. You watch with pleading eyes as he lays it on the floor next to your feet like a blanket. He wraps an arm around you, turning you so that your back is against his front so that you can sit in his lap but a sound pulls his attention to the door down the alley.

He looks down and his jaw instantly clenches, It’s him. That one fucking wolf who was staring at you and his fucking friend are leaning up against the wall, drink in their hands while they steal glances at the two of you. “Can I fucking help you?” Changbin shouts at the pair of them and it’s only then that you notice them.

“Ignore them.” You whisper to him and press your ass back against him. “I’m not letting them see you like this.” He turns you to the side so that you’re mostly out of view. 

“You’re mine, no one else gets to see you fucked out for me.” Changbin turns back to face the two, hands balled into fists and ready to fire but he relaxes a bit when Chris walks through the door. His eyes meet Changbin’s instantly and he can feel the tension in the space between them.

“I suggest that you two head back inside, yeah?” Chris glares at the two and they return the hostile gaze. “If you wanna see someone fuck so badly I can get you two a room and a mirror. I’m sure you’re no stranger to that.”

“The fuck did you say?” They step towards Chris, their glass bottles are in tight fists and Changbin takes this as his cue to get over there. Your boyfriend takes a couple of steps towards Chris and his friend takes a couple of steps towards the wolves. “Basically what I’m saying is…” 

Changbin finishes his friend's sentence with a venomous growl to his voice, one that you’ve never heard before. “Get fucked up or get the fuck out.” He tilts his head, watching them both carefully. 

“Your choice.” Chris finishes and the two just stare back at them. A second or two pass before the duo decide to avoid a beating and head inside. “Good choice.” Chris mutters as your boyfriend follows the two with angry eyes.

 Once they’re out of sight you can visibly see Changbin’s shoulders relax. He stretches his fingers and neck and Chris gives you a quick glance before patting his friend on the back. 

“Go, don’t keep the pretty thing waiting.” You’re leaning against the brick as you wait for Changbin, thighs pressed together and a blunt between your fingers. You’re taking a drag when he gets back by your side. 

“Where did you get a blunt?” Changbin smiles at you, he can feel the tension melt away now that he’s back with you but it isn’t enough. Not yet. “Your jacket pocket.” You smile over at him lazily. Jisung really outdid himself with the weed today. 

“You don’t even care that a fight was about to break out next to you?” He cages you against the wall between strong arms. He plants a hand on either side of your shoulders and you bring the spliff up to his lips for an inhale. “I know you got me.”

You smile up at him and he breaks a bit. He takes the blunt from you and loosely sits it behind his ear while he pulls you into him. You take this opportunity to finish unbuckling his belt and move to the button of his pants. If it were up to you, you’d be on your knees already with a mouth full of him but he always likes to feel you first. 

“You’re right.” He grabs you, wrapping you in his arms and swinging you around so that his back is to the wall and your back is to him. “I got you.” 

He moves down the wall, dragging you into his lap and spreading your legs over his. His fingers tickle your skin as he hikes up your dress and slips your panties down until they pool at his feet. 

Moans tumble forward as he sucks marks into your shoulder in between filthy whispers of all the things he’d like to do to you. You squirm at the sound of it all, already slipping deeper into that fucked out state just from his touch. The weed is hitting harder now, it’s peaking in your system and your core drips in response to it all. 

"Shh shh, baby. You'll feel good soon, I promise." His fingers slip through your folds, spreading your slick before pressing into you slowly. You whine, too floaty to properly moan for him. "See, you feel good don't you? You like being stretched by my fingers, bunny? You like swallowing me up like that? "

You're shaking your head, mumbling confirmations mindlessly as he curls his fingers against your most sensitive spots. “I needed to feel my baby’s pretty pussy to calm down. You see what you do to me?”

You’re grabbing at his pants as he fucks into you, you scratch at the leather in a mindless attempt to ground yourself. "You're doing so well. You look so pretty like this, you know? You make me so fucking hard for you." He presses his bulge up into your ass and you moan breathlessly. He's so thick, his fingers are barely good enough to prepare to take all of him. 

"Feel that?" You're shaking your head. "You'll suck it for me, won't you? You'll suck and slobber on my cock just how we love it, right?” 

"Mmhm, 'm gonna suck it." He pushes his fingers in up to the knuckle and a particularly loud squelch of your cunt has you groaning. 

"How does such a tiny pussy stretch out so perfectly?" Changbin kisses the back of your neck and around to your ear. He kisses and nibbles at the shell with whispers in between. 

"You wanna wet my cock, bunny?" Kiss. "Wet my cock so I can treat this pussy just right." Kiss. 

You're nodding as he pulls his fingers out of your messy cunt. His other arm wraps around your waist to keep your back flat against his chest while his slick soaked fingers push past your waiting lips. You suck and swirl your tongue the best you can, being fucked out and hazy. 

Drool is dribbling down your chin as you suck just like Changbin wanted. "I want you to spit all of that onto my cock, keep all that spit in your mouth, okay?"

He's moving you over so that you're sitting on his jacket next to him. He tugs on his zipper and fights his pants down his thick thighs just enough for his cock to pop free from his boxers, you can feel more spit pool in your mouth at the sight of it. "Get it wet, baby, go ahead."

You clumsily sit up on your knees with Changbin’s support and lean forward a bit so that your mouth is right over his cock. His hand rests on the small of your back while the other takes the blunt from behind his ear

He takes a long drag as you pucker your lips and let the spit pooled in your mouth flow down onto his cock. It coats his tip, dripping down the sides and pooling at the hilt. "Ah, fuck, look at that." He praises you on his exhale, smoke clouds the two of you as he watches your hands wrap around his shaft and twist just the way that he likes. 

"So fucking nasty, shit." You lean down to lick at his tip as you jerk him, twisting in opposite directions while your hands move up and down on his dick. "Kiss on it a little. Fuck, that's it, that's right, baby." 

You plant open mouth kisses on the head of his cock and he tips his head back against the brick in ecstasy. Between the weed in his system and your godly hands jerking his cock he swears that he could ascend into a higher state of being. 

"Gimme your throat, bunny." You move your hands, placing them on your lap like he taught you while his hand moves from the small of your back to the back of your head. He pushes your head down ever so slightly and bucks up gently. "Oh that throat, that tiny fucking - nuhhahh you're gonna make me cum."

He fucks your throat slow and deep, taking in the way that you swallow around him and choke a bit when he hits the back of your throat. "Fuck, c'mere. Pull your dress up." He lifts your head and helps you lift your dress up around your waist. 

"Binnie is gonna slip into your pretty cunt is that okay?" He asks you, looking up at your low lidded eyes with his own. "Please, need you inside."

Those were the magic words to have Changbin positioning you in his lap. Your dripping cunt rests over his leaky dick and you grind down against him, his cock slips and slides perfectly between the lips of your pussy. The head of his cock bumps your clit just right, making you moan into the air and earning whines from Changbin.

"Baby, baby, baby. I can't take that." He guides you with one hand on your hip despite his protest to the impromptu pussy job. The sounds of your combined slick gets picked up by the slight breeze and is carried around you.  

"Such a fucking tease, don't you wanna be fucked?" He brings the blunt up to his lips and then to yours. Allowing you to take a drag from between his fingers. 

"Wan' your cum." You grind down harder, swirling your hips a bit faster. Changbin puts the blunt back behind his ear so that he has a free hand to land a firm slap to your ass while the other grips the plush of your hip tighter. You moan, throwing your head back and swaying a bit. The hand that was gripping your hip now wraps around your waist to keep you up while you move over him. 

He exhales smoke into the air with a moan, his hips buck up into you and you put your hands on his strong chest to brace yourself. "Lift up, baby.” 

You lift yourself, whining at the loss of contact but that pout is quickly replaced with pure bliss as he positions himself and sinks into you. "Bin - 's so full. So full of you." 

He's whining too, moaning and biting at his bottom lip with his head kicked back and his eyes on you. "So tiny, fucking tight." You grind against him and he's popping your ass to get you to stay still. 

"I'll cum." He shakes his head and you whine again. You busy yourself with planting kisses to his cheek and up the side of his neck. "Wan' your cum."

"Yeah? Fine." Both of his hands grab your waist and he presses further into you, interrupting your kiss with a deep moan. "She wants her cunt creampied, huh?" He's grunting as he pulls back, slamming into you again before repeating. 

"Oh - ah ah - my god. Oh my god, oh my - ah" He's hammering into you now. Fucking up into you at a brutal pace while he holds you in place.

"Oh fuck, fuck, bunny's so - fucking - sounds so pretty. Such a pretty - shit, I'm gonna cum."

"Close, close." You're panting with your head hanging back and your tits bouncing out of the flimsy cups of your sundress. "There, there, right - I'm gonna cum, gonna fucking -"

You're screaming his name as you come undone. Spirts of squirt wet Changbin's torso as he continues to fuck you through your high and chase his own. 

You're hanging on by a thread as you try to remember how to breathe. You’re staring up at the sky, moaning mindlessly as you blink up at the clouds. They’re hazy but they almost appear to be brighter, closer, more vibrant. 

"Fuck I'm gonna bust, bunny. Gonna fill this pussy, yeah? Gotta fill it up. Get you full of - oh fuck, baby kiss me. Kiss me." You're sitting up in an instant and crashing your lips to his. You were already dizzy but the feeling of his lips on yours while he moans into your mouth mixed with his strong arms circling your waist as he holds you down against him and fills you with sticky white ropes of his cum makes you feel like you could really lose it. 

"Ah ah ah, baby." High pitched whines tumble from him as you clench and grind against him as he rides out his high. "Don't, can't take that." 

"More, Binnie." He smirks at you, it’s one sided and a bit lazy as his sparkling dark eyes look up at you on top of him. You're still stuffed with his cock. Your hole is plugged up to keep his cum inside and you want more.

"Greedy, baby."

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@krayzieestay, @soulsbbg , @stay-bi , @yzsqu , @gho-ster , @lghtdarling

[jellypopswag]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do an imagine where Clapton goes over to the readers house and have a smoke sesh, maybe make out and goes outside, riding his skateboard together🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

𝙎𝙢𝙤𝙠𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙨𝙝

♡ ♡ ♡ jelly's notes ; ~13k words, clapton x gn!reader, m rated, lapslock, shotgunning, mentions and depictions of smoking weed, more romance than i intended

he can't get enough of you.

he's excited to see you, even just by the way he knocks on your front door—eager, fast, and loud.

you've come to believe that, when it comes to you, he thinks like a dog. every minute spent apart feels like an hour, and every hour spent apart feels like ten.

"coming!" you exclaim as you emerge from the kitchen, carrying some snacks. you make your way to the front door— at a leisurely pace, of course. the longer he waits, the more affectionate he'll be when he finally sees you.

you place down an ashtray and some snacks on your coffee table— chips, freshly popped popcorn, soda— the kind of junk food that you feel less guilty about eating when you're doing it with someone else.

closing the distance between you and the front door, tugging it open, your senses are ambushed in an all-too-familiar way.

clapton pulls you into a tight embrace, enveloping you in his arms. this close, you can smell his cologne— a deep, masculine scent, with an addicting tinge of sweetness you can only smell up close.

after a moment of basking in his embrace, clapton pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes. "I missed you," he says, as if his eagerness to get his hands on you didn't make that obvious already.

you smile at him, his hands easing downward to grasp onto your waist— holding you there.

clingy is an understatement.

you reply with a quick kiss; just enough to leave him wanting more. "what movie do you want to watch?" you ask innocuously, pulling away from him to sit on your couch.

his hands slip from your waist as you turn to walk off, causing you to grab his hand and pull it into your own— so as to not lose physical contact with him completely.

maybe the clinginess goes both ways.

he interlocks his fingers with your own, sitting down on the couch right beside you— leaving as little space between you both as possible.

"anything," he says, like he often does, which is code for 'i won't be paying attention to whatever we watch anyways.'

you eye him for a moment, an amused grin tugging at your lips. he really does love you, if the adoration in his unwavering gaze is anything to go by. it's no wonder that, when you're in the room, he can't focus on anything else.

"alright then," you slip your hand out of his own, a conscious choice on your part to make sure he continues to ache for more. You grab the remote off of the coffee table to scroll through netflix.

as if your sudden lack of physical contact knocked him out of his lovesick daze, he suddenly remembers something.

beside you, you hear shuffling as clapton adjusts to pull something out of his pocket: a small plastic bag, with a few pre-rolled blunts inside.

very classy.

turning to glance at him, you chuckle at the sight; already amused by how this night will inevitably go.

he leans in close, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before tossing the bag on the coffee table, shoving his hand into his other pocket to tug out a lighter.

"if I didn't know any better, I'd think that you're trying to get me to do drugs," you comment, with all of the amusement your teasing tone can convey. you grab the bag off of the coffee table, tugging it open.

"good thing you know better, then," he says, tone just as playful, and snatches the bag from you with a cheeky grin. "this is all for me."

you huff, quickly followed by a laugh, reaching to grab the bag from him. he lifts the bag up above his head, keeping it out of your reach. his grin has turned into a full, cocky smirk.

in your attempts to grab the bag from him, you end up in a rather compromising position; leaning over him, with one hand firmly on the back of the couch as your other arm stretches out as far as it can— trying to grab the bag and failing. to avoid losing your balance and collapsing atop him, your outstretched hand lowers to prop yourself up-- accidentally trapping him beneath you.

the laughter between you both slowly quiets, as the implication of what tonight entails begins to set in.

and, as cocky as clapton is, moments like these make his blind confidence melt.

he's in awe of you atop of him for a moment too long, leaving you just enough time to grab the plastic bag from clapton— getting off of him in the process.

laughing triumphantly to yourself, you pull a blunt out of the bag as clapton readjusts himself to sit upright. he grabs the lighter, shifting so that he can turn to you— an expectant glint in his gaze.

by now, you've long since realized something about clapton: he loves doing things for you.

if he had any say in it, you'd never have to lift a single finger again. oftentimes he doesn't even realize the ways in which he spoils you; down to his insistence that he always light blunts for you.

"let me do it for you," he'd said, the two of you crammed in the corner of a shitty house party.

you were just trying to score some weed, to make a shitty evening a little more bearable, but he thought you were beautiful— far too beautiful to do something so frivolous yourself.

you press the blunt to your lips— smiling around it, leaning into clapton just slightly— thumb and index finger holding the blunt in place.

with practiced ease, his gaze focuses in on your mouth— a quiet fizzle searing into the air as the other end of the blunt is carefully singed.

a comfortable, intimate silence falls over you both as you inhale— the familiar, earthy taste seeping into your mouth.

a quiet clanking sound signals that clapton has tossed the lighter down, although you barely register the noise— a haze washing over you as you sigh, light puffs of smoke flowing from your mouth.

your throat burns with it, but you've done this enough times to be largely unphased. you inhale again, pulling the blunt from your lips to pass off to clapton.

clapton takes the blunt from you, and in one swift motion— his lips are pressed softly against your own, blunt carefully outstretched to be certain that he doesn't accidentally burn you.

it's easy to melt into clapton; from the addicting sensation of his kiss, to the gentle way in which his unoccupied hand snakes its way upwards to cup your jaw in his soothing touch.

it was no secret that clapton was a fan of shotgunning. it hadn't been a secret for quite a while, actually. once you two had established frequent smoke sessions with each other, it hadn't taken long before his lowered inhibitions had enabled him to start making some rather bold moves.

you lean into his kiss, tilting your head as your lips part just slightly. with a gentle huff, the pool of smoke seeps into clapton's own mouth-- filling the air between you both with a dizzying haze.

before you can fall too deeply into the passionate kiss, clapton is pulling away-- with a dazed, cheeky grin you can't help but to admire.

maintaining eye contact, clapton presses the blunt to his own mouth-- inhaling deeply. plucking the blunt from his lips, he shifts his body to set the blunt down in the ashtray on the coffee table.

everything happens in slow motion after that.

seizing the opportunity, you use his distracted state to your advantage-- waiting until the moment he lets go of the blunt to gently shove him down onto the couch.

he stammers for just a moment as you crawl atop him, clapton looking up at you with big, dazed eyes.

you make a conscious effort not to touch him-- body hovering above his. you lean down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his own. quickly taking the hint, he returns the kiss in tandem-- a puff of smoke flooding into your mouth once again and filling your senses with nothing but dizzying want and the desperate need to cling onto clapton and never let go.

foolish, to think you could last more than a moment without getting your hands on him.

clapton reaches up to you, one hand cupping your jaw as the other trails downward to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

you hum, the sound reverberating into his mouth as you place a hand flat on his sternum-- fingertips carefully stroking his chest.

the weed-induced haze easing into your bones causes the kiss, while initially passionate and firey, to melt into something more languid. slipping your tongue past his lips, the taste of him seeps into your senses-- causing your pounding heart to beat even faster. your breathing grows heavy, body desperate with want.

but you're not too far gone yet.

smiling into the kiss, savoring it for just a moment longer, you pull away completely-- lifting yourself off of him and sitting back down on the couch, grabbing the blunt out of the ashtray.

you take another deep inhale of the blunt; with no intention of sharing this time.

clapton, still breathless, sits upright-- hair slightly tussled from his previous position.

he huffs, gaze fixated on you. he could pounce on you right now-- reverse the roles and have you pinned beneath him, kiss you until you're dizzy with it, and you'd be completely fine with that.

but you both enjoy this game. the push-pull nature of it, the way that any pleasure you get, you've worked for. it makes the reward taste so much sweeter.

coming to a mental conclusion, clapton stands up, outstretching a hand to you. "let's go for a ride, yeah?" he asks, his familiar, bright tone tinged with a sense of admiration exclusive to you.

you raise an eyebrow. "you rode here on a skateboard," you retort, noting that there's no extra car parked in your driveway.

"that's what i meant," he replies, as you concede and reach out to grab his hand. he chuckles, tone sickeningly sweet, and interlocks your fingers as he lets you lead the way outside.

leaving the house, you barely get the front door locked before he's pulling you to follow him-- skateboard lying carelessly upside down in the center of your front lawn. from its position, you can tell he spared no extra time earlier when it came to coming to a stop and rushing to your front door.

his obvious eagerness to be with you; to see you, talk to you, touch you, is dizzying.

by the time you make it to the empty road in front of your house, skateboard tucked securely under clapton's free arm, the buzz of weed has gone from jarring and dizzying to soft and mellow; a warm buzz flooding your skin.

clapton pulls his hand away from yours to set the skateboard down, planting his feet on the board with practiced ease.

he places both hands securely on your waist, helping you step onto the board in front of him-- your back practically flush with his chest.

once stable, he moves to fully wrap his arms around you for just a moment-- leaning his face in close to yours. "ready?" he asks, kissing your temple when you reply with a nod.

moving back to a more stable, standing position-- hands retreating back to grip your waist-- he plants one foot on the ground, propelling you both forward at a relaxed, gentle speed.

The pace he's set is comfortable, allowing you to ease into his touch, not paralyzed by fear of flying off of his skateboard.

seeing that the road ahead is straight, and it'll be a short while before you're concerned with turning, you tilt your head back-- leaning it on his shoulder.

he laughs, and you feel the way his chest rumbles with it-- pressing a kiss to the juncture between your neck and shoulder; one of his favorite places to kiss you.

"clapton," you say around the blunt, eyes fixated on the stars above you.

he hums in acknowledgment, as if not wanting to speak and break the serene moment that has fallen over you both.

glimmering stars in the sky, with the chirp of crickets and the gentle bustling of tree leaves serving as background music to this moment.

and clapton, hands gripping onto your waist-- tight enough to be firm, but meticulously careful enough not to bruise-- with his face practically nestled into the crook of your neck.

you pull the blunt from your lips with a deep inhale. "i love this," you sigh. and maybe it's a sudden burst of confidence willed up by nothing but your own subconscious, or it's a drug-induced boldness, but either way, you only contend with yourself for a moment before saying it. "i love you." you continue, hoping clapton doesn't notice the deep, pounding throb of your racing heart.

you feel clapton stiffen just slightly, a subconscious reaction born purely out of shock-- and a weed-induced difficulty to actually process what you just said.

clapton's grip on your waist tightens just slightly, adjusting his head so that he's practically whispering in your ear. his tone, while packed full of barely contained joy, is also shaking slightly. he's nervous, and it's the most endearing thing in the world. "...really?"

you laugh. "so much for a romantic response," you tease, grinning from ear to ear.

clapton carefully brings his skateboard to a stop, leading you off of the board so that you can turn to face him.

he pulls you in close by the hips, gaze locked on your own.

you find yourself dizzy again, nerves beginning to prickle at your skin with every second of silence that falls over you both.

clapton takes the blunt from your hand and tosses it aside carelessly, kissing you in a manner so full of love you could drown in it.

he murmurs it against your mouth, then. a quiet "i love you too" sighed onto your lips, his own breath wavering almost unnoticeably at the end. not from uncertainty, but from a certainty so strong his body can't properly contain it.

you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in close as you kiss him deeper.

you're addicted to each other, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

♡ ♡ ♡ thank you for reading! i had so much fun writing this. fun fact: i was high while writing at least a quarter of this fic (¯▿¯) ran into some formatting issues, so hopefully this post doesn't look too weird on y'all's end,, i apologize if any weed jargon was incorrect or sounded awkward, i'm pretty much exclusively an edible user so i'm not very familiar with the smoking side of things (*￣▽￣) check out my other works here!~ © jellypopswag

[peachyloveswriting]

Hi can u do a Jealous Kyle?(THXS)

"Yeah. But you're mine." --- (Kyle Brovloski)

SUMMARY: Eric has always had the feels for you but it's really starting to get to Kyle.

WARNING: Slight smut, just making out that's it. Nothing too serious, recording. :).

NOTES: I've written in first person before and I do like it better than second person idk if it's gonna stick just lmk what you think.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

The lunch table around me is loud, I can barely hear any coherent conversations other than my own. I find myself shouting over the table, bickering with Eric. He glares at me smugly, a glassy film over his eyes. Usually it's Kyle who yells at him but I find that the space beside me has gone silent.

"Just shut up fatass!" I snap.

He snickers at me. "Only for you."

I cringe and shake my head, adverting my gaze to the untouched plate in front of me. It's likely cold by now from being so enthralled in my argument but it's much more appealing than looking at Eric's face. I'd rather look at death in the eyes than listen to Eric make such comments about me to my face. Eric has always flirted with me though, but I've never been interested in him. It's been happening everyday since fourth grade and occasionally I stop to think; If I just said me and Kyle were dating he might stop but for the sake of my privacy, I say nothing. At the start of our relationship, we agreed to not tell anyone so we could keep it to ourselves. I was and still am perfectly fine with that, until Eric started flirting with me again.

"I'm going to go roll me one, y'all coming with me?" Kenny pipes up from the end of the table.

Kyle's hand grips mine as he stands to his feet, turning everyone's attention to us. "I'm coming." He announces. After being quiet this whole time, I feel surprised to see him suddenly jumping to volunteer for skipping class. That's not much like Kyle at all.

When we snuck out the back with our stuff, there were five of us, Kyle, Kenny, Stan, Craig, and I. Sneaking out was almost a hassle but we all managed to get away unscathed, leaving the rest of our friends behind. Now that I'm further away from school, I can collect my thoughts. Kyle never wants to openly skip like that, especially not to smoke weed.

"You sure you wanna smoke with us?" Kenny asks, looking at Kyle with curiosity. Looking over at Kenny, he shakes his head. With my hand in his, he lightly tugs me closer to his side.

"I just wanted to get out." Kyle admits sheepishly before looking ahead.

I watch Kenny's eyes widen, exchanging glances with Stan in surprise. I was honestly thinking the same thing, Kyle hasn't smoked a blunt a single day of his life and he suddenly went to smoke with Kenny. Now I know that's not actually true but that he wanted out and that never happens. Something about this whole thing is off, from openly holding hands to skipping school. It's just not like Kyle.

"If you don't mind I'm going to my car." Kyle points back towards the student parking with his thumb. Everyone bids us goodbye and he begins to pull me towards his parking spot. The silence between us feels thick on the walk over, his grip on my hand is tight. So tight that my palms are beginning to sweat. I look up at Kyle, his face is contorted into disgust and discomfort, in his eyes dances a quiet anger. One that I know is settled in his belly. I don't say anything until we reach the car, close our doors and settle in. At first I'm honestly unsure of what to say, he doesn't seem sad, but he seemed disappointed and angry. Like he's confused on what to feel and it confuses me.

"Hey." Kyle is looking out the back windshield, his arm spread to the back of my seat for leverage while he backs out. He's not looking at me. I wait until he's at a stop at the exit to grab his attention back. "Kyle, I need you to pull over up here." Kyle wat he's where I'm pointing. Though he's looking with furrowed brows and wandering eyes, he does what I ask and pulls over onto the aide of the road. His gaze meets mine, he's questioning me silently, confused by what I'm doing. I know he wants answers but I take a second to put the car in Park for him.

"Why?" He finally asks stiffly. I look back up, meeting his gaze. His eyes are searching mine for any clues. Softly taking his hand into mine and intertwining our fingers, I frown at him. There's just something he's not telling me, it's been happening for a while now. I just didn't know how to address it.

"Is something wrong?"

His face scrunches up. "What? No, Why- I'm good." Fumbling his words, Kyle shuts his lips. His gaze starts to shift away from mine, looking out the windows at other things. He's biting his lower lip, rolling it between his teeth before repeating it again. I squeeze his hand, pulling his attention back to me.

"Baby, you're not acting right. Is something wrong? Be honest."

He stares at me with contemplation falling over his looks, he's looking from my eyes, to my lips, to my hands, and finally back at my eyes. "Kinda." He says, lowering his gaze from mine and shaking his head. Suddenly a smile breaks out on my face, I knew he would say something sooner or later. A little convincing is all he needed, that satisfies a part of me that looks out for him, the one that feeds off his emotions. Not in a bad way of course.

"Tell me, I'm listening." My thumb softly brushes over his knuckles, smoothing out the skin there in time. It's a soft way to let him know I'm here, that he can speak to me. Kyle tends to shut down over certain things, some of which I haven't exactly figured out yet, but his well being matters to me. That includes whatever this is.

Slowly, Kyle shakes his head again. "I just don't like the way Cartman treats you." His eyes meet mine again. "He flirts with you all the time and it pisses me off." Venom flares from his tongue, creating a hateful edge in his voice that tells me he's annoyed. I can't help but wonder if it's because he doesn't trust me or if it's just him becoming uncomfortable.

"I'm not going to let him do anything. I promise." I squeeze his hand again, just to accentuate what I said but he shakes his head again.

"it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I don't trust him. Sure, you could ignore him or tell him off but what's going to stop him from continuously thinking of you like that." A shudder rolls off his shoulders. "I don't like the thought of that."

"I don't either, but it's best if we leave it be. It's been almost seven years and he hasn't made a real move yet. I'm sure it's fine." Part of it is true but the other half doesn't feel as reassuring outside of my head, really my only goal is to sooth Kyle's worries but I seem to be interjecting myself now. He scoffs at my words and I furrow my brows. His eyes shift from discomfort to stern and sharp, an assured glare in his gaze. Maybe not directed towards me, but it sure feels like it.

"Yes, but you're mine." The roughness in his voice washes over me in a rain of tingling sensations, like tiny pellets raining down from the sky, pelting my skin. A shudder runs down my spine again. "I don't like him thinking he has a chance with you at all." Kyle finishes. Frustratedly, he points back at the school and groans at the end. Laughing softly and taking my hand away from his, I cup his cheek with it. The grin on my face can't be helped and neither can the heat, but I press forth.

"Yes, I'm yours. But maybe you should give him a reason to stop."

Suddenly it's like a fire lights up in his eyes, creating an evil grin right along with it. The cogs turning in his head are so obvious that I can practically feel the thought forming in his head. I'm unable to get my own thoughts out before he snaps his seatbelt back and presses a hard kiss on my lips. I hum in shock, my chest squeezing strangely in response. Roughly, our lips move together, a sort of sloppy manner tied in with it. Along my shoulders are his hands almost daring to pin me back against the seat and climb over. Still, they are teasingly holding me in place. I can feel one of his hands disappear from my shoulder but I'm not really looking to see what he's doing.

His teeth sink harshly into my bottom lip, pain shooting through it. Opening my mouth with a gasp, a small noise that can only be heard as a moan escapes me. Kyle begins to smile into the kiss, his other hand sliding down to my waist while slipping his tongue into my mouth. We've made out before but it's never been this intense before. I can even feel the tension building in the pit of my stomach, the kind that begs for attention. I didn't mean for it to slip out, but when it did I think both me and Kyle were shocked. "Please." The whimper is nothing more than a pathetic cry for attention, something that hitches the breath in the back of his throat for just a moment before he pulls away grinning like crazy.

"Yeah. That's right, beg for me." Callous in his voice sends a feeling of arousal between my legs, I squeeze them together in hopes of creating more but I get nothing in response.

"God damnit, Kyle." I huff.

Very slowly, with hazy half-lit eyes, Kyle pulls away. That's when I hear it, the sound of my own small plea repeating itself. My stomach twists, Kyle lifts his phone to reveal the whole thing on recording. My cheeks flood with heat and I look away, shy.

"I'm saving that for me." He mutters.

Looking back over I can see him saving it to his phone before opening up his messages. That's when I realized the name at the top is Eric's. Face red as ever I look back up at Kyle, my lips slightly agape and eyes wide. "Shit, that was hot."

Kyle snorts. Clicking the phone off, he looks at me. "I know it was. But it won't be for him."

"What if everyone sees?" I ask.

He puts the car back in drive with a proud grin on his lips. "They can look all they want." His hand comes to rest on my knee, squeezing softly. "At least they'll know you're mine."

[chouxsardine]

Warm Honey---Jake Kiszka x reader

A short blurb where me imagining getting high with Jake and listening to classical music ended up turning into some jake-playing-guitar worship and stream of consciousness smut. I just feel it's so sexy when your partner can feel the effect they have on you, and I'd like to think Jake loves that. 18+ content below cut. Enjoy!

Warning: 18+! Minors DNI, Drug use (marijuana), sexual content, body worship (kind of)

🎧: Scriabin Sonata No.4 in F sharp major, Op.30

--------------------------------

He is all that you can think of, all that you feel.

Whenever you smoke joint with Jake, you always like to describe your mind as being “in a stake of Jake”. He is not occupying the space as the subject. Instead, he wraps around it in an all-encompassing way. He exists as the warmth of a blanket, a scene from the rear view mirror, the tingling on your skin as the wetness from an open-mouthed kiss evaporates.

Jake is sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, you are lying down with your head on his lap. The air is damp, saturated with the earthy smell. Jake just lets out a puff of smoke. You look up and blink. The light of the floor lamp is hazy through the smoke like the moon halo. Rachmaninoff is playing at a low volume in the background. The title of the melody escapes you. It could be Symphony No.2 or something like that. You are too far gone to put any effort into trying to recall it. Life feels really good at this moment, and that’s all you want to focus on.

Jake’s hand is resting in your hair, occasionally scratching your scalp or swirling the soft strands near your hairline around his finger, sending buzzing shivers under your skin. You squirm a bit, reaching above to grab his hand in yours. The sensation of being in touch with human flesh clashes with your stupefying illusion. Suddenly, Jake’s hands become the most interesting thing in the world.

If Jake is sober enough to look down, he will find you staring at his hand intensely with dilated pupils. The skin around your eyes is tinted with a fluffy shade of pink. And you are staring with the fervent passion of a child looking into a kaleidoscope for the first time, stunned and in awe. His hands are warm. Nails always blunt and well-trimmed, receded tamely behind the finger tips. Veins visible under his skin, knuckles strong and sturdy. You hold up his hand higher to the ceiling, looking at the light seeping through the slits between his fingers as if he has magical powers.

His hands truly are magical. The way he makes his guitar whine and moan on stage. You close your eyes briefly, recalling the way his right hand firmly grasping the neck while the palm of his left hand resting on its rear body. Sometimes he does that devious thing where he pushes the guitar back and forth as if shaking someone’s shoulder, the intensity of it cushioned by their connection through the strap, thereby creating a tensile and magnetic stretch between them. Once, you asked him why he would do that; “it helps with the trills and echoes,” he said, flashing you a smirk. You don’t believe him for one bit. When his fingers slide across the fretboard in an elegantly frantic speed, you wonder why there aren’t sparks bursting out because it surely looks like swiftly striking the head of a match against the side of the box. And you love the way he does tremolo, oh, the dazzling movement of his fingers on the higher end of the fretboard, his ring finger and pinky curved, alternating so smoothly that it looks like he is tickling someone. Well, it surely tickles your heart. And your pussy, if you are being honest. That’s when you feel it. The wetness sneaks up on you slowly. Jake always turns you on at the flip of a switch, the blink of an eye. Normally, you are already soaked as your mind is preoccupied with the yearning for his mouth, his fingers, and his cock. However, the weed amplifies all senses. This time, you can almost feel the titillation trickling down your spine, like morning dew collected on rose petals.

Without much thought (not that you can form any coherent ones now anyway), you hold up his fingers, make them spider-walk across your belly before lowering them down into your panties.

Jake lets out an amusing humph. With all the sensory stimulation stealing his words, he’s not much of a talker when he’s high. Your communication during times like these are almost telepathic—you could tell from just a simple raise of his fingers that he wants another handful of chips, and he could tell just by the slightest turn of your head that you want another hit. He always jokes that you read each other between the lines. The reassuring silence weaves a velvet blanket that falls and lands on both of you in a floating manner.

You look up and find him looking down on you with a lopsided smile. So lackadaisical that it’s almost goofy but smug nonetheless. He quirks his eyebrows, and you put up a finger against your lips.

“Shh.”

You’ve always known that Jake loves to watch. He gets so hard just by watching you getting yourself off, using all of his willpower not to come in his pants while somehow managed to take mental notes of your preference. He always looks down the moment your bodies connect, whether that’s him entering you or you sinking down on him. His mind is always blown by the way he disappears into you bit by bit and your malleability to adjust him. It’s almost like you were made for each other. The combination of the visual image and the physical sensation short-circuits his brain. The sigh and moans that escape him drive you crazy. Jake loves the process as much as he enjoys the maddening pleasure. And this time, with the weed delaying the need to fuck each other, you would like to let him experience that.

At first, it’s just his dry and warm palm covering your lower belly, his finger slotted between your fold, with his finger pad resting against your hood and finger tip grazing your clit. You feel he move, instinctively wanting to rub it.

“Nuh uh,” you tightens your grip, “I want you to feel it, babe.”

You are certain you are getting there. You can almost picture it, like honey slowly descending down the wall of a glass tube. It’s an agonizingly slow process, like a golden snake with malicious intent, twisting and turning its body; its expected sweetness drawing out the moisture of the mouth, causing one to salivate.

Ah. Here it comes.

Without meeting his gaze, you know that Jake feels it too. His fingers have long familiarized themselves as the hierarch of the territory which is your pussy. He has learned, through time and experience, the prelude of your arousal. Every respond is picked up by the tactile receptors on his finger pad and his muscle memory. Much like with his guitars, Jake is always caught in an affectionate paradox when it comes to your pussy—he walks this ground with confidence and pride over the possessiveness he has over it, albeit constantly carrying a veneration for its beauty and the sincere humbleness to learn and explore.

The previous friction has now transformed into a gentle rise of temperature and the coated slickness provided by your discharge. Your clit presses more firmly against his finger tips now that it starts to swell and throb.

“Damn, love, can almost feel your heartbeat.” Jake grunts, his words a bit slurred.

“That’s the point,” you arch your back, feeling vainglorious about your little trick, “my tell-tale heart. Feel what you do to me by simply existing?”

“Gosh, you’re gonna end me one day,” Jake tilts his head backwards, his eyes rolling back too, “but I wouldn’t want it any other way. And the epitaph would say, ‘gone doing what he loves’.”

You laugh, knowing that the filter between his brain and mouth has melted away now. Meanwhile, you are getting silkier and warmer by the second. Jake feels like he dips his finger into a jar of honey, the snugness of your walls trapped him there. He’s an insect preserved in a sea of saccharin, captivated by the moment as the waves wash over him again and again, reminding him that he is the reason why his girl is so turned on, he is the reason why this body lying against him coordinates all its nerves and cells to produce such an amazing response to his touch.

You can hear the clarinet playing in the symphony. If your memory serves you right, it won’t be long until the allegro vivace of the last movement kicks in. You look up at Jake’s face again. He swallows, his Adam’s Apple trembles in a way that makes you want to take a bite. With his eyes closed, his eyebrows pulling together, and his lips pursed, that man looks like he could be having an orgasm right there. It’s almost whimsical, given that he is the one who has his hand in your pants. You let out a low chuckle.

“What?” He cracks open an eye.

“You know they said weed slows people’s movement?” You quip, tapping your fingers provocatively over his, a sultry tone in your voice.

“Oh,” Jake’s eyes darkens, the familiar devious smile shine through his relaxed features.

“Now, those are fighting words, doll. You wanna test them out?”

--------------------------------

[heartfullofleeches]

Practice

College Yan + Older Neighbor Reader [M + G.N]

Summary: A friend requests a favor from you after a rough night

Warning: Legal age gap, mentions of alcohol and drugs, emotional manipulation, groping

-

12 missed calls....

"..Hey, Y/n. Just realized you're probably still at work right now....l I just wanted to say thanks for everything. Without you - I don't think I'd be out here tonight.."

"Y/n - hey! Oh... just missed you I guess. I just arrived, and... honestly I'm really nervous. There's more people than I thought there'd be and I don't know anyone. You mind if I call again? Even if you don't answer - it's nice not being alone."

"Y/n... things are going pretty good so far. Someone just came up to me and handed me a cup. I've never drank before, but I have too many regrets already to have another. This goes out to you."

"Are you afraid of dying alone?.... it never crossed my mind until my grandad died a few years back. Nobody liked the guy so he just.... wasted away alone in his house. I don't want that to happen to me. I wish you were here."

"Y/n?.... fuck... please don't listen to that last message. Can you come pick me up? I sent the address to you earlier, but I forgot to tell you. I think I drank too much and I know it's late but... fuck."

"You're coming to pick me up...aren't you? You wouldn't leave me behind like everyone has... I'm so happy I-"

Message Saved.

You didn't need to hear the rest. Teddi was the sweetest guy you've met in recent years. A little rough around the edges, sure, but it's a given with everything he's been through. Once you cracked that shell, he revealed that dorky, loveable self of his who still cried when animals died in movies yet gushed for hours about his fascination with horror media as a whole. You thought you were doing the right thing by trying to get him out of his comfort zone - keep him from turning out like you.

Breathing through your teeth, you toss your phone into the passenger seat as you exit the vehicle. Beer glasses and someone's glasses left out in the field crunch beneath your feet as you cross the lawn up to the house and adjacent door. Poking your head through the crack; a sea of young adults and their peers overcrowd the living space - egging each other into boisterous acts and having the time of their new lives. Realistically you couldn't be a few years older than the older face in the crowd, but this wasn't your click. You walk up to the nearest, unattended person and tap them on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, looking for someone. Thick glasses, nose ring, blue...ish hair? Should've brought my phone out-"

"Oh!! You must be Ted's partner. Y/n - right?."

"We aren't dating. I'm their neighbor."

"My bad - he's just been talking about you all night so I thought - anyway, he's up on the roof. Said he needed the fresh air. Just head upstairs, the ladder to the attic should be right there.

"Alright. Thanks." You push past them and up the stairs - bracing your foot on the ladder rails that creek under your weight as you climb up into the attic. The room is foggy, musty fog filtered out the open door leading to the patio. You reject an offer for its source as politely as you could as you brush by the individuals occupying the space, pulling your shirt over your nose as you step out into the chilly night. Laying on a blanket made of someone else's coat, Teddi sits beneath the stars wearing the jacket you lent him about a week ago. He takes the blunt offered by a peer, breaking off its tip as he pulls it to his lips. You knock on the door frame twice - smoke violent exhausted from his nose and lungs as he turns around to see you.

"Y/n." Teddi staggers to his feet, legs tangled in his makeshift blanket as he trips and stumbles his way towards you. He sports a dopey grin, fixing your jacket to his shoulder. "Hey, we were just talking about you - this is.. uh.." He snapped his fingers. "Fuck."

"Trudy."

"Trudy! Right, haha - they're great, but not as great as you."

"That's great." You wrap an arm around their shoulder, turning them towards the door. "We're leaving."

Teddi slurs out a whine, leaning back - trying to pull you with him. "What? But you just got here. I wanna introduce you to everyone first."

"Maybe later. I need to get you home." Your right hand finds the small of his back, locking around his waist. "Car - now."

His pink face flushes further. "Okay...."

-

Loading Teddi into the car, his head slumps against the passenger window as you shut the door. The ride home is mostly quiet - his hand glued to your lap no matter how many times you nudge him away. His head rolls over to your shoulder and the alcohol on his breath fans your face as he speaks.

"Do you think somebody will ever love me, Y/n?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"I meant someone tonight."

He studies your face. No twinge of jealousy or sadness. You almost looked relieved. He swallows, buring the ache as he continues. "I meant someone and.... I know they're way out of my league. Kind....smart....when they smile it's like the whole room lights up. We hadn't known each other for long, but they've always been there and... I can't imagine life without them now that they're here. Despite our differences I know we are meant for each other."

You ease your foot off the gas. "....Ted. You're a good kid. If I had known a guy like you back when I was your age I would have loved to get to know him."

Teddi sits upright, looking down as he rubs his face. "Quit talking like you're so much older than me..."

"We're here."

Teddi glances outside. Always when he works up the courage to talk to you.. You park outside your house and round the car to help him get to his. Teddi clutches your arm as you face his yard.

"Please don't make me go home tonight, Y/n."

His nails dig into your shirt. "Please."

You sigh. Helping him up the driveway and into your home, you guide Teddi into your bedroom- afraid of what's happen if you give him the couch. Teddi relaxes as you cross the threshold into your living room. The familiarity of your home, just the two of you in this vast space - he wouldn't give it up for anything. The lingering stress melts from his face as you lower him into your bed, resting on the pillow you lay your head on every night. You set his glasses on the dresser and bring him a glass of water - wishing him good night as you turn off the lights. Hovering over the bed, he grabs your wrist as you turn to leave.

"Y/n..... please stay with me tonight."

He brings a hand up to your face, stroking your jaw as he pulls you closer. "Kiss me, Y/n."

".... how much did you drink, Teddi."

"Alot, but - I need you... to help me I mean. I've never kissed anyone before, and I need the practice if I'm ever going to tell them how I feel. You're the only person I can turn to for this. You promised that you would always be there for me."

You knew that would come back to haunt eventually. "Ted, when I said I'd help you with anything, I meant like teaching you how to do your taxes or change a tire. This isn't something we should be doing."

His cheek presses against your neck, fresh tears staining your skin. "We can forget about it in the morning.... They're all I have. You're all I have... Please don't leave me too."

"....show me."

"Huh?"

"How you would confess. Show me."

You sit on the edge of the bed. Teddi props back against the frame, tucking his hair behind one ear and fixing his shirt. He chews on his bottom lip - the moonlight reflecting off your skin basking you in that heavenly shine he always saw. He looks down. "I'm gonna use your name just to make it easier - okay?"

Teddi takes a deep breath. "Y/n - you... you're the most amazing person I've ever met. When I'm with you, it's like opening my eyes for the first time. You're someone I know I can trust through thick and thin... you've always been there for me, and I want to be here for you... forever."

He scoots closer, placing a hand on your lap as he cups your cheek - leaning in til his forehead rests against yours. "I like you...I love you. Please, stay with me."

Teddi slowly closes the distance; fingers restricted round your thigh as his lips fall flush against yours. It feels like a crime - your soft skin beneath his chapped, bitten lips. He presses deeper, engraving every each of you into his memory and being that his mind would allow. His tongue ghosts your lower lip, snaking against your teeth. His hand clasps the base of your neck as he adds his weight to your chest, pulling you up on the bed as he brings your hanging leg up to his side.

"y/n....."

He cards his fingers through at your hair - the taste of whiskey and desperation hot on your tongue as you wince from the abrupt tug at the back of your skull. The depth of your mouth is more indicating than any substance he had all night. His fingers sink into the flesh of your leg, working towards the curve of your ass as a moan vibrates through your teeth centered from throaty whine he makes as they close around his tongue. His lip ram yours as he tilts his head for a better angle with enough force to bruise, and by god he hopes it does. Biting down doesn't stop his tongue from barreling down your throat - ball piercing sucked to the roof of your mouth. He gives pause only when he finally accepts the stars dancing in view are from the lack of oxygen rather the magic of the eve- falling to your chest with a few links and kisses between greedy intakes of air and your scent. He giggles, hiccuping as his arms shoot around your waist.

"My first kiss...... I made sure to tear off the end when I smoked with that girl so I wouldn't lose it even indirectly. Was I your first too? Can you by my first in other ways too?"

You pull from under him as he nips at your shoulder. "You're not into Trudy?"

"Trudy?" The name rolls off his tongue with such disgust and confusion. "Heck no. The person I like is so much more special than her. I'm lucky to even be in their presence. I wanna give them the world. My heart. I love you.... them- so much."

You fall silent as he nuzzles his face against your torso, eyes growing heavy. "It's late, Teddi. Go to bed."

"Will you sleep with me?.... Stay with me until the morning?..."

".....Always."

Teddi cuddles up to your side as you join him in bed - fighting exhaustion to treasure your sleeping face beside him.

[hyunsvngs]

inhaled some magic grass earlier and I can't stop thinking about munch skz but like high. they're all munches, but JI, LIX, and MIMO!??!

*blows up*

like like like like Lix is so fucking sloppyyyy with it.

Like it starts off innocently with wake n bake and a movie, lixie has a free day and he spends most of the mornings on his breaks and free days higher than a kite. But this time you're over. And weed makes Lix HORNY, so naturally, someone is getting head. That's how you find yourself on Lix's bed, all spread out and fuzzy in the head, while the boy is in between your lithe legs, his eyes closed in concentration as his tongue is SLOPPILY playing with your cunt. Like honestly you can't tell if the wetness below you on the sheets is from YOU or HIM.

AND JIJI ?!?!!? I feel like he gets so sleepy when he's high...

The two of you are trying to relax after a long day, so naturally Ji rolls a fat blunt and you two pass it around while eating greasy take out. And Ji is just naturally horny, the weed IS NOTTT helping his urges. But he's also so so so so sleepy. So when you come back from throwing away the trash from the food and Ji is DEMANDING that you come over and sit on his face, honestly you don't know how long he's going to be able to go for. But, he's determined if nothing, so you're definitely cumming on his fucking face before he falls asleep.

AND MY MINHOOOO MY MINHO I'M GONNA RIP MY HAIR OUT THAT MAN IS SO FINE. I FEEL LIKE HE FUCKSSS WHEN HE IS HIGH- LIKE- (warning for mommy Minho bc I'm me-)

You both know what it means when you smoke with each other, someone is getting head. This time it's you. You're sprawled out on Minho's bed and watching as he lazily tongue fucks your throbbing cunt, while he looks up at you with those pretty brown eyes!??! (personally if Minho looked at me that way I'd nut so fucking hard, but anyways--) and he just takes his time worshiping your cunt while high?!? makes you call him mommy while he does it too, and he gets so into it he starts referring to HIMSELF as mommy and is all condescending and shit like... woof woof

JESUUUUUUS FUCK THIS IS SEXY. what about all 3 of them fighting over whos gonna get to eat u out first 😏

[eyesxxyou]

Never smoked weed (or anything at all) in my life. And Oh my God, Hobie would be SUCH a good teacher. So fucking gay with it too

Wrapping his big fingers around your jaw, thumbing at the soft skin of your bottom lip urging you to open your mouth. Blowing smoke into your mouth to get you used to it, before gently placing the blunt in your mouth

I'd let him shotgun me and make me as high as he wants.

-🐘

I WROTE SOMETHING LIKE THIS BUT NEVER POSTED IT!

Here it is!

The flat smelled like weed. Your roommate, Hobie, was smoking. You didn't like it. He was otherwise a great roommate. Cleaned up after himself, remained considerate of the time and didn't listen to his music on full blast when you were trying to sleep, and kept his visitors to a minimum.

You didn't bother to put any clothes on, walking around your room in a pair of panties and a small tee. With a groan, you rolled out of bed and left your room to open up a window. It needed to air out or the smoke would stain everything in its vicinity. It’s not that you hated the smell either. It was just so pungent.

Walking out into the living room where Hobie was rolling his own joint with another sitting neatly between his full lips. His nimble fingers handled the thing delicately, rolling it up and using his tongue to seal it. Before tucking it behind his pierced ear. “Look a’ tha’. Ya come ‘ere to put on a show f’me then?”

You ignore him for your own sake, ignore the heat permeating your face as you suddenly realize how much you’re revealing in front of him, and go around cracking windows. You don't say anything to reprimand him, far too timid to do so. All you want is to go back to your room and hide away from his prying eyes.

“Wai’, dove. C’mere fo a bit.” Hobie motioned you over with two flicking fingers and you halted, watching as he took a long drag of his joint and let smoke tumble from between his lips and float up to disappear within the air. It mingled with the air so delicately, you wanted to mingle with him the very same way.

You fiddle with your fingers and hesitantly make your way over to him just in your panties and a tiny tee shirt. You aren't even eating a bra. How embarrassing. Can he see your nipples? The mound of your love?

You stand before him and Hobie motions you closer before patting his thigh. “Come on, luv. Ya won't break me. Sit.” His voice held a gentle persuasion. It didn't demand, didn't threaten, it was all but a suggestion. A silent, ‘if you want to’ implied by his tone.

And you wanted to. Oh how his lap looked so inviting, spread and open like a seat waiting for you. Was every one of his manspreads simply an invitation for you to sit in his lap?

You shuffled closer and stiffly, awkwardly, sat in his lap. Hobie wrapped a hand around your back and held you close. His fingers stroked the small of your back just above your ass, his thumb against your spine. “Relax.” He muttered. “Ya shakin’ like a scared puppy.” Hobie let out a smokey chuckle and looked at you with low eyes and a pretty smile.

You watch him smoke while his fingers tangle themselves into the band of your panties at your hip. You don't stop him, never even thought of it. His skin was hot, fingers calloused as they rub into the bare flesh of your hip.

You eye the joint between his fingers. You were never a fan of the smell but you were always curious what it was like. You had never smoked in your youth for reasons unknown. Your parents weren't overly strict, your friends occasionally did it but you never partook in it. Maybe you were waiting for the right time and this felt better than any.

Hobie’s fingers stroked your hip lazily, coy laughter escaping his lips. “Ya wanna try, lovie?” He offered the joint to you, the place where his lips once sat now in front of your own lips. You look at him unsure. “Go ahead.” He nods his head at you with an encouraging spark in his eye. His grip tightened on you and you felt safe enough to try it.

You shake your head, looking away. “I never–” you rub your neck sheepishly. How cute, he thought and turned the joint back to him. “Takin’ ya virginity then?” He chuckled in a baritone that had you swooning even further for him. “We’ll go slow then, yeah? Ion like t’be rough.”

He took a long, slow drag of his joint, the end glowing with embers that turned to ash. You watched, fascinated, your lips parted and eyes wide. Hobie took the joint from his hip and held it between his fingers as he went and grabbed the back of your head to pull you in. He eased his lips on yours, a full lock, and let the smoke billowing from his mouth and into yours.

It was easy to take it that way, his sweet lips on yours, kissing you between hits so you can taste the smoke. His hand holds your jaw with each smokey kiss, each one leaving you a little dizzier and you aren't sure if it’s from the weed or him making you so high.

You two go on like this for a while before you decide you’re ready to take a real hit from the joint that was almost out. Hobie’s more than happy to share, handing it off to you as you hold it with pinched fingers.

You placed your lips on the end of the joint and took a sharp inhale. Immediately, your throat and lungs filled with smoke and ash and you let out a smokey cough, nose scrunching as you shook your head.

Hobie stroked your back just above your low-hanging panties. “Try again. Slowa this time.”

And you did try again. You took a slow drag and felt the smoke fill your mouth before you released it past your lips. It almost tickled. You shuddered softly and looked at Hobie as you giggled.

“Good job, luv. Good boy.” Hobie hummed softly and watched you take another hit with a little more confidence. You lean into him and kiss him again, harder than before, with more want and vigor.

Hobie chuckled, smiling into your kiss as he slipped his hand past the band of your panties, his long fingers dipping between your lips to find your sweet little spot.

“Go ‘head. Take anotha hit.”

[ch3rrywond3rland]

Here for you

Fezco had know Y/N since the first grade. They never used to talk, unless they sat next to each other in class, and then they would only talk about school and assignments. Eventually, they grew up and Fez stopped attending school. She thought about reaching out to see if he was okay, but decided against it when she realized that: 1- she did not had any way of contacting him; and 2- it was, quite frankly, none of her business. So that was that, for a while. Until she became best friends with Lexi, who sometimes hanged out with Cassie and her friends. And they knew Fez, so, consequently, her and Lex also did. He recognized Y/N immediately and even went up to hug her. They started hanging out a lot and eventually started dating, which was a surprise to all of us. They were complete fucking opposites who somehow complimented each other. I had seen her around his house sometimes and she was one of the nicest people I'd ever met, and treated me like we'd known each other for ages despite not having had an actual conversation.

Fez and I lay resting on his bed after a long morning of doing absolutely nothing. A blunt hangs from his lips, the smoke creating a bubble around us. My arms are wrapped around his torso and our legs intertwine, yearning for proximity.

As I'm about to kiss him, loud knocks coming from downstairs startle us both. We look at each other worryingly, and I grow afraid that Mouse is popping by for a surprise visit.

He seems to notice my fear, because he sprints out the room before I can even get up. I do so, reluctantly, and follow his path downstairs.

"C'mon man, don't be a dick." I hear a familiar voice coming from outside.

"Rue?" They both turn to look at me standing at the bottom of the stairs. Fez offers me his hand and pulls me closer to him.

"Nah, I'm serious...you can't come in."

"Look man, all I- all I need is just like, a few OC's"

"Sorry, I can't help-"

"Fez, I've had a fucked up day. This is all I'm asking, okay? I just need you to open the door for me, okay?"

"Nah, man..." He nervously runs his hands through his buzz, trying not to glance at her.

"Just open the door, man." Her palms push the metal door, making the sound echo all throughout the house. "Just open the fucking door. C'mon, tell him, Y/N."

She hopefully looks at me, and I look down, gulping.

"I'm sorry, Rue."

"Nah, you both gon' do me like that? Fuck you, man."

"I'm not gon' help you kill yourself, man. I'm sorry, but you can't be comin' here no more."

He starts closing the door and Rue pushes herself against it, in a worthless attempt to break it down.

"Fez, I'm begging you just to open the door." Her fist meets the metal, again. "You're full of shit, man."

Fez's forehead rests on my shoulder, my hand soothingly rubs against his back, trying to comfort him somehow.

"You know you make your living off of selling drugs to teenagers. And know, all of the sudden you wanna have a fucking moral high ground? You're a fucking dropped out drug dealer, you know that?"

I stand on my tip toes and wrap my arms around his neck. His' hug me by the waist, pulling me closer.

"You're a fucking dropped out drug dealer with seven functioning fucking brain cells. Open the door!"

Her scream makes me jump and I feel Fez's breath hitching against my neck.

"Open the door!"

"I can't do it, I-"

"Open the door! Open the door! Open the door!" Rue's voice breaks and my heart clenches.

I hear sobbing before she speaks again. "You did this to me, Fez. You fucking ruined my life so the least you could do is open the goddamn door and fiz it!"

"C'mon, let's go." I tug his hand, leading him back upstairs.

"If you don't open this door right now, I swear to- I swear to God, I will fucking hate you 'till the day I die."

"I'm sorry." He says from halfway up the stairs and she seems to hear because she high-pitchedly screams.

I make him lay on top of me once we reach the bed. His head lays on my chest and my fingers run through his head.

"It's okay, she didn't mean it."

"I know." He says, but I hear him breathe out in relief anyways.

"I love you."

"I love you, too. Thank you for everything."

I smile and kiss his forehead, drifting into relaxation.

———————————

A few days have gone by since the encounter with Rue and Fez dragged me to a Halloween party he wanted to try and sell stuff in.

I had been invited, but didn't plan on coming. However, Lexi had also insisted she wanted someone to be with. Which was a total lie because we'd arrived less than half an hour ago and she'd already disappeared from my side.

Fez and I are sitting on a couch outside, and he is just finishing a deal when I see Rue walking towards us.

"Hey, babe." I motion my head to her direction and Fez's eyes follow.

We watch as she sits down on the other side of the sofa. I start getting up from Fezco's lap but Rue is quick to talk.

"You can stay." She offers me nod and I smile at her.

"It's fine, I think you two should talk." I turn towards Fez.

"I'm going to go find Lex, look for me when you're done." I give him a wink and he sweetly smiles, eyes twinkling.

I start walking away, but decide to stop in front of Rue.

"You look amazing, Rue Rue." She looks up at me and smiles, seemingly still embarrassed after our interaction. Still, I reassure her by gently grabbing her head and placing a kiss against her temple.

As I make my way back to the house, I hear Rue's voice talking to Fezco.

"She's an angel."

"Yeah...she is."

[ariestrxsh]

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✁✃✁✃✁┈

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, drugdealer!chris, mentions of drugs and weapons, exchange of sexual favors for drugs, oral, face fucking

✍️ Summary: ✍️ You're a little short when you go to purchase weed from Chris, but you offer him something more valuable than money.

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✁✃✁✃✁┈

"I need a re-up," I texted Chris. He was the smooth talker, the cool guy every guy wanted to be and every girl wanted to be with, and he also happened to be the local drug dealer. "Come thru," he responded shortly after.

It was about a 20-minute drive to his place since there was still snow on the ground, and it took me even longer because I had to stop at the ATM. The chilly winter air bit at my nose and my fingertips while I typed in my pin. Fuck, I'm $20 short. Chris and I weren't close or anything, but I'd never asked him for a favor before, so I figured maybe I could just this once.

I made sure to park on the street where he always asked me to, and I texted him "here" as I walked up the driveway. As I approached the door, before I could knock, it was swinging open and Chris materialized in front of me. He looked especially good today. He was wearing a dark green sweater, grey sweatpants, a silver chain, and a black beanie with Boston 'B' on it. I absent-mindedly bit my lip a little when I first saw him. His blue eyes were hazy and glassy, presumably from having just smoked, and he shot me a stoned smile.

"Hey ma, come on in," he said, placing his hand on the small of my back as I walked past him. Chris was always touchy and flirty like that with everyone. I think it was part of his charm. "Have a seat, I just rolled up. We can smoke while I weigh out your shit," he picked up the blunt off his coffee table and lit it up as we sat down on the couch.

"Listen, I know it's $60, but I only have $40 until I get paid," I winced, wondering if he would be mad for wasting his time. "That's alright, ma. I'll just weigh out $40's worth then," he smiled, passing me the blunt. "But here's the thing. I need $60 worth. I have a stressful week ahead of me, and I can't run out before the weekend. Do you think you could front me? Just $20 til Friday?" I begged him. I took a few puffs off the blunt and gave it back to Chris. "I don't do fronts, sweetheart," he scoffed at me. "But you can still smoke this blunt with me, and I'll sell you $40."

"Chris, please," I desperately whined. He shook his head no. "What if I give you something more valuable than money?" I asked him, looking him up and down. He really did look so good today. "Sweetheart, what could be more valuable than money?" Chris chuckled as he blew out a cloud of smoke and coughed. "My mouth," I said, reaching for his crotch.

"Woah, what are you doing?" He said, grabbing my wrist right before I touched him. "If I give you head, will you let the $20 slide?" I asked him. "Do you know how dangerous it is to offer up sexual favors for drugs from a dealer?" He asked in a deep, hushed voice, leaning in close to me and pushing a piece of hair back behind my ear. His hand lingered for a second, and he bit his lip. I shook my head no. "Well, you've gotta be careful about that, princess. There are some dangerous men out there who will do awful things to you, and you don't wanna get mixed up in their worlds," he said with his face only a few inches from mine.

"I wanna get mixed up in your world. Just for one night. Please," I whispered, glancing between his blue eyes and his plump lips. This was somewhat about the weed, but it was becoming even more so about the fact that I just really wanted to make him cum. He passed me the blunt, and I watched him intently as I wrapped my lips around the tobacco leaf, trying to be suggestive and took a long, slow drag.

"Yeah? I'll make you a deal. You're still giving me that $20 when you get paid, but I will accept the blow job as a down payment until then," he smirked at me. "Only if you promise to stay away from these other scumbags. They don't have your best interest in mind," Chris whispered, running the back of his hand across my cheek. I nodded and smiled up at him with innocent doe eyes. "Let's finish this blunt, baby, and then you can do whatever you want to me," Chris softly uttered, smiling. We spent the next few minutes passing the blunt back and forth, mostly giving each other bedroom eyes and staring at each other's lips.

I knew Chris was dangerous. He sold other substances besides weed, and he often times had really sketchy people over. I even saw guns in his house haphazardly laying around on many occasions. I knew he was bad news. I knew what I was getting myself into. And I knew that despite all the red flags I saw and despite alarm bells that would go off whenever I was with him, he made my pussy throb, and I wanted him so bad.

Once we finished smoking, he led me to his bedroom. I'd been to his house many times before, but this was the first time I'd seen his bedroom. He had blackout curtains, a simple bed set up with a flannel comforter and black sheets, and he had a few posters up in his room. He had money and drugs laying around his desk next to his computer.

I playfully pushed him back onto his bed, climbed on top of him, and my lips melted into his. Things were getting heated quickly as our soft pecks morphed into a heavy makeout session. He helped me out of my corduroy jacket, tossed it onto the floor, and his hands wandered to my waist. My fingers fell into his hair, and I moaned against his lips as we started grinding against one another.

I pulled away from kissing him and nudged him a little, so that he tilted his head to expose his throat. I started sucking, licking, and biting on his neck until he started becoming more responsive. I slid my hands under his green sweater, motioning for him to help me take it off of him, and after removing his own shirt, he removed mine too. His hands traveled from my hips to my tits, and he gently pinched my nipples, which caused me to let out a soft whine.

I put my hand down the front of Chris' pants and started stroking him while we continued kissing. He was bigger than I had imagined. The head of his cock was smooth, and I felt as a bit of clear liquid emerged from the tip. I stroked him until he was fully erect, and he moaned against my lips as we continued venturing each other's mouth.

With Chris laying back on the bed, I maneuvered my way between his legs, took out his dick, and began doing what I'd always wanted to do. There were many times I imagined how he would sound and how he'd look while getting head, and I was endlessly grateful to be experiencing it firsthand. I took the tip into my mouth, gently suckling while I descended down his shaft, taking him further into my throat. He gently rocked his hips forward as my tongue slithered around in circles around his sensitive head. His moans were soft and needy at first. He held my hair out of my face while I hungrily gagged on him.

As soon as he heard me choke on his member, it triggered something in him. Immediately, he became rough. He held my face, and started to fuck it. His groans became deeper and more urgent. His body started quivering beneath me. I loved making such a dangerous guy come unraveled at the seams using just my mouth and my sheer desire to make him cum.

That was my trick to giving good head, especially to Chris. All I had to do was really want it and make it my life's mission to make him feel good, and the rest came naturally to me. I loved that Chris knew what he wanted and made it easy for me. I hardly had to do any work. My eyes started to well up as he slammed against the back of my throat, earning a retched sound from me with every thrust.

"Shit," he muttered as he painted my tongue with his load, delving so deep into my throat that my nose was nearly touching his stomach. I swallowed up the remnants, making him smile. "Goddamn, you took that so well. Your mouth is more valuable than money. This one's one me. Just keep your $60."

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[prettyboyrxpist]

My little brother Zee wanted to hang with me and my friends cuz were hot and smoke weed and he's a fucking cum hungry faggot.

He genuinely thought I didn't know what he really wanted when he said that he just liked Alessi because no one else he knew liked Mad K, or when he swore he was just staring because he thought Devonte's scars were really cool, but the runt knows by now that Genjutsu of that level doesnt work on me.

Of course I'm sex positive, I'm a slut and I love to nurture more sluts, if he wanted to get his pussy stretched pounded and filled up, if he wanted to fuck my friends, choke on cocks and piss himself in carnal ecstasy, I'm in his corner all the way.

But No One Is Sinking Into My Little Brother's Pussy Before I Do.

So I let him think hes pulled one over on me. I invited him to come camp with us, were gonna roll blunts, drop acid, barbecue and set off fireworks.

All that and the chance to get split open by one of my friends? What self respecting little brother slut could refuse?

And he didn't. Its probably the most impactful decision he's ever made.

Because when we got to camp and fell under the qualia of our intoxicants and cover of starlight and got high enough to see rythmic mandalas dancing in the shadows of our fire and he started touching Alessi's thighs I had no choice but do what i did and it irrevocably changed the direction of our relationship.

I grabbed him by his waist and picked him up and away from Alessi. Alessi's face fell from a grin to an expressionless combination of shock and curiosity. He knew what was about to happen, I'd told the both of them beforehand.

But i dont think they believed I'd really do it.

I carried him over to the tent, playfully shaming his desperation.

"You don't get embarassed, throwing yourself guys you barely know?"

"Of course you dont. Youre a testosterone pumped desperate little cuntboy faggot. All you care about is getting a fat cock in you."

"You want to bounce on dick so fucking bad dont you dirty fucking hole?"

Zee whined like a puppy when he could manage any sound at all in response.

"l'll be honest i thought you'd fold for Devonte before Alessi, but you're such a cum thirsty whore I bet you'd even fuck them both at once."

"Lucky you, youre gonna get them both."

"But first, youre gonna get something soooo much better."

I placed him on his back on the floor of the tent, he didnt let go of me.

Devonte and Alessi stayed close and watched us from just outside the tent, I wish theyd come in but i get it. They probably wanted to keep some distance from the monster who got his little brother tripping balls so he could rape him into a devoted pet cum slut.

I started peeling off Zee's clothes and watched his face twist into sick combination of shame and rapt anticipation. He was blushing redder than a strawberry and he would later confess to me that in that moment he was more afraid that I wouldnt go through with it than anything else (isnt my little brother the best?)

Once his soft pink glistening little cunt was out I was acutely reminded of the fact that I was an animal. And might as well have ripped my clothes from my body. His eyes were fixed on my cock like he'd never seen one before (turns out he hadn't, not irl anyway)

He was already soaking wet, I'd thank Alessi for rizzing him up but all four of us know he was so wet because he was boiling with the uncontrollable ecstasy of knowing he was about to get fucked by his big brother's fat throbbing cock.

I hooked my arms under his knees and pulled them spread nice and wide, the scent of his cum starved little cunny will be burned into my memory for all my time. I couldnt helo myself, I lined us up and forced the tip of my cock into him. Then more of me. Then more, and more until the tip of me was nestled neatly against his cervix, like he was made for me. Probably Because he was, what else are little siblings for?

He looked to be having a rougher time.

Digging his nails into my arms, gasping and opening his sweet little doe eyes so fucking wide and desperate. Pleading with me not to stop. He looked like he was about to cry, but in a good way.

Not that i'd have stopped if it was in a bad way.

1/?

[eddiesguitarskills]

It Can't All Be Bullshit

Read part 2 here

Eddie Munson x fem Reader x Steve Harrington (unfortunately no steddie in this)

Summary: pinning after your best friend can be hard, especially when he doesn’t seem to like you back. You were trying to get over a crush the last thing you needed was another.

AN: this and the next chapter have been in my drafts for far too long so I thought I'd post them (not the best piece of writing but I like the story) I have tried to prove read it but I have dyslexia so sorry for any mistakes

Warnings: Angst, use of Y/n, mention of break ups, miscommunication, drug and alcohol use, swearing

Word count: about 2000 words

Halloween night 1985

Of all the people you had to have a crush on, why did it have to be your annoying, oblivious dork of a best friend? You knew you needed to get over it, and even if there ever was a chance of being with him, you feared you’d lose him. You weren’t what Eddie wanted in a girl, and you knew that. You were surprised he kept you around now with how much you nagged at him. It’s not like it was all the time, but someone had to look out for that boy, especially if he wasn’t going to do it for himself.

Eddie interrupted your plans for a Halloween movie night, which you had planned out for a month, costumes included. If anyone were to look at you together, they would assume you were a couple; most people did. You were dressed as Jack and Wendy Torrance from the shinning. He even let you put makeup on him to give him the frostbite effect. So when he suddenly announced he had to go to Tina’s party to deal, you were annoyed. You tried not to nag, even though you hated the sound of your voice at this point. Plus, he promised it would only be an hour tops, and then you could get takeout with some of his earnings so that you couldn’t complain, especially when he looked at you with those eyes. You could never say no.

You weren’t the biggest fan of drugs or him dealing them; you knew he was better than that life. But you understood how hard things were on him and his uncle, so as long as it wasn’t forever, it wasn’t really bad drugs, you let it be. You never liked to be around when he dealt, though. Something about watching it made you feel weird. You could never explain why. Eddie was kind, though, and he never did anything in front of you. He didn’t even smoke weed, especially after that one time when he got super paranoid and scared you. You weren’t part of that life. You didn’t do drugs, you didn’t drink, and you didn’t party. It’s not that you were boring. It was just never you. Hey, maybe you were boring, but at least you didn't need drugs to enjoy yourself. You liked to be in control.

You are currently leaning against the countertop in the kitchen, sticking out like a sore thumb with a Coke in your hand. You look at the clock, he’s 30 minutes late. You were trying to turn a new leaf, so you were trying to be understanding, even if his time-wasting was cutting into your Halloween plans. You couldn’t take your eyes off the clock, not like there were other things to watch at this party: teenagers making out, getting too drunk or being sick. The clock seemed more appealing. When it hit the 2-hour mark, you started worrying, so you looked for him. What you didn’t expect to find was him in the garden with a blunt in his hand and his other hand on a blonde’s thigh.

The voice in your head telling you not to nag was now becoming quieter with how annoyed you were. He ditched you, and he was smoking, which showed he had no intention of continuing your plans. He just wanted to get high and laid. “Eddie!” you said loud and stern enough for him to hear you, but too high he was in his bubble with his girl for the night. “Edward Munson!” you said louder; he only ever hears that name when in trouble, so subconsciously, he straightened his back and tried to hide the blunt, failing miserably. He turned around to face you, he waved “Hi darling”. You glared at him. “Are you high, darling?” a mocking tone coming from your voice, using his usual pet name for you against him.

He pitched his fingers together “a little”. Eddie always thought you looked cute when you were mad; he usually tried to get you a little angry so he could see that face. Usually, though, he could hide his smile and keep a straight face since he was sober. But now, when he tried to keep a straight face, he couldn’t; even more irritating for you, he couldn't stop giggling, making the girl to his right giggle, too. “If you wanted to go party instead, you should have told me; you didn’t need to lie”. If Eddie were sober, he would see how hurt you were, but in his mind, this was a joke, “you don’t have to stay. You can go home and watch the films. Tell me what happens”. You freeze; this is why you hated High Eddie; he never realised how hurtful he came across. How selfish he became. And when he finally sobers up enough to realise you must forgive him because he ‘wasn’t in his right mind’. It’s a frustrating cycle, which is why he stopped smoking in front of you. Except for now, apparently. That’s probably why he ditched you so that you wouldn’t find out.

Hurtful words were on your tongue, but you were in your right mind, so you could never say them. You knew you wouldn’t mean them. You were just hurt, so you stormed off straight out the front door, but when you made it to the front porch, it was like you were stuck in glue. You couldn’t leave whether he was being a dick or not. He was still your best friend, and you need to ensure he was safe. He shouldn’t drive high, and knowing him, he would try. So you waited. You couldn’t go back into the hell hole that was Tina’s Halloween party, so you waited on a porch swing. The air was bitter tonight, so you were glad your costume provided a jumper, not that it looked like a costume anymore without a partner to go with it.

Your eyes were drifting shut with how tired and bored you were, that was until you heard a huge slam come from beside you, making you flinch. You weren’t the only one having a terrible time at this party; Steve was having an even worse one. “You got cigarettes?”. He didn’t look at you, so you didn’t realise he was talking to you. That was until you felt his glare burning into you. You knew that look wasn’t meant for you, but it still made you feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was due to the shots you could tell he had taken from the blue tint to his lips, or perhaps he had gotten into a fight. But this look wasn’t meant for you, but it didn't make it any less scary when you were in his firing line. “Huh?”. With the way he spoke to you next, you could have sworn you had done something to hurt his feelings. “Are you deaf I said do you have any smokes?” he spoke slowly like you were a dumb child. He tutted at you and turned away from you “bullshit”. He kept repeating like a madman.

Jesus, was he that addicted to nicotine, you thought. Even if he did make you feel a little uncomfortable, especially since you knew he was a jock, and even though they didn’t necessarily pick on you because, in their words, “you were a girl,” they bullied your friends so you knew how bad they could be. But even for a jock, this was dramatic “fucking hell, I’m sorry, I don’t have any” you said a little sarcastically. He stopped his repetition and looked over his shoulder at you. “What?” He said with anger still laced in his voice, like you did anything to deserve his rage. You didn’t know why you were wasting your breath on him, but Eddie had pissed you off, and you needed to get the annoyance out somehow. “Are you deaf? I said I’m sorry, I don’t have any”.

He thought he knew girls well, but after tonight, he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to figure out what was wrong with you either. He couldn’t be bothered by the grief. “Fuck off”. You couldn’t tell if his words were in reaction to what you said or if he meant it. That was until he repeated it, and you saw the look on his face, and the tears in his eyes that he didn’t realise were there. You didn’t know what was happening with him, but it was not your place to sort it. You were making it worse.

So you went back into the party, to look for two people, firstly Tommy Hagan everyone knew he was Harrington’s best friend, so even if you didn’t like Tommy you couldn’t leave someone when they were like that. It would only make you as bad as them. You found him around the beer pong table. You lightly tapped his shoulder as you couldn’t deal with another boy's wrath tonight. He turned around, looking you up and down, smirking. “What are you supposed to be a virgin?” You rolled your eyes. You knew you could think of a comeback and put him in his place, but now wasn’t the time; you needed to get him outside, and you didn’t want to announce that his friend, the king of Hawkin High, was crying on the lawn in front of everyone. You weren't cruel. “Can you just come outside with me?” The room erupted into “oh”, as if you were suggesting something sexual. “Wait, was I right about the virgin thing? Is the freak not giving you any? Do you want a real man instead?” He said, getting closer to you. He smelt of beer and body odour, but you let him closer so you could whisper in his ear. “Your boy is outside, and something’s happened. I’d go and sort it if I was you”. He looked at you confused and nodded. He walked out, but not before smacking you on the ass. “I’ll see you later, darling?”. God, he was the most enormous prick. You couldn’t hold your tongue anymore. “Is that with your girlfriend or alone?”.

Eddie came sauntering alone into the room after hearing your voice, “I hope you’re not starting fights”, he said, putting his arm around your shoulder out of comfort. You ignored his question, not wanting to get into it now. “You ready to go?” You looked at him and weakly smiled. Eddie couldn’t tell, though he was still high as a kite, just in the mellow stage, so all he could see was you smiling. You took the keys out of his pocket and led him to the van. On your way out, you walked past Tommy and Steve on the porch swing. Steve’s leg bounced. “She said we were bullshit”, he kept repeating; you were glad Eddie wasn’t sober enough to hear it. Otherwise, he would definitely use it against him. Everything about his mood towards you started to make sense. He and Nancy had clearly broken up. So you gave him a smile and a nod of acknowledgement as you left, which he only glared at. You didn't mind, though you were just glad he wasn’t alone, even if that meant being with Tommy.

You drove Eddie home, struggling to get his dead weight onto the bed and to get his shoes off. You were about to leave for your car outside when Eddie's hand grabbed for yours. “Stay”. This used to be one of the only things you liked about him being high, the cuddles and needing attention. However, right now, this was probably the worst thing for your heart when you were trying to get over him, but when you looked at his face, how could you say no if that made him happy, even if it would end up hurting you.

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