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#“you put it on top of your weed and smoke it”
wu-sisyphus-gang · 2 days
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Jaune: There's a correct speed to abuse substances. And it's different for different substances.
Weiss: Okay, I'm listening.
Jaune: They all follow the logistic function. Sort of a low and long 's' shape. Some drugs, like weed, you take and you get to the upper part of the curve and stay there. You take more weed and don't go any higher. Your return on investment, first derivative, is basically zero. A lot of typical and atypical antipsychotics are like that. The difference between 15 and 20 mg of Saphris is greater by an order of magnitude than the difference between 20 and 30.
Weiss: So if I smoked a dab and then smoked another dab, I wouldn't really have gotten more high.
Jaune: Right. Take dabs after the first one wears off and you get less return but more than if you took two right in a row.
Weiss: But not all drugs are like that.
Jaune: No. Oploids, alcohol, and amphetamines aren't like that. And it has to do with the second derivative of that sigmoid function.
Weins: Okay. I remember some calculus.
Jaune: The second derivative gives you the inflection points. Where the first derivative is at its maximum or minimum. Maximum in the case of the sigmoid function. Logarithmic functions don't have that second inflection point. Well debatable depending on the species of calculus you're using. In some it makes sense to say the natural logarithm function has an inflection point at positive and negative infinity. That inflection point is where you're getting the most out of taking more of a drug.
Weiss: Right. Okay. So what happens with opioids and those other drugs.
Jaune: You never reach that point where your return on Investment becomes zill.
Weiss: Why not?
Jaune: They kill you between then and the inflection point. So about the time you're getting the most out of the drug it's liable to kill you. You could slip up and go too far. There's a correct speed to do it. You gotta be smart.
Weiss: This doesn't sound smart.
Jaune: So how do you solve this problem that when you're getting the most out of a drug it could kill you?
Weiss: I don't know. How did you solve it?
Jaune: By mixing them.
Weiss: And that's smart?
Jaune: If you do it right. The amphetamines could stop your heart. The opioids, benzos, and alcohol put you to sleep forever.
Weiss: But mixing them?
Jaune: Right. Opioids and alcohol for the pain and to put you on the edge of consciousness. Amphetamines to stay awake. A dab, because it won't kill you.
Weiss: And you mix all that with your antipsychotics.
Jaune: Which work by making dopamine and seratonnin receptors more active. You flood your brain with dopamine with the benzos. And for the cherry on top you take a really strong propsychotic.
Weiss: Like THC or amphetamines?
Jaune: Like acid.
Weiss: You can't be serious.
Jaune: I totally am.
Weiss: And this makes you happy?
Jaune: Nothing is a good substitute for a nice laugh or a hug.
Weiss: I'll give you a hug if you just ask.
Jaune: But-but you can't drop those into your system on demand. What I get isn't quite happiness. It's a little dirtier. But it has a really strong effect and I probably won't die. I'm just going to see some shit.
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ellecdc · 20 days
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Surprise! We're Making Love
6.8k words
this is my first real like... real smut fic? so do take that into consideration [and please be nice to me lol] but also feel free to send me a message if you have any feedback or pointers.
this is a fic based on this trope that was sent to me by @bobluvbot like a million weeks ago and became my hyper fixation for far too long. I finally decided to put it into words. thanks to @unstablereader for championing me as I wrote this and convincing me it was decent enough to post lol
Remus Lupin x fem!reader
CW: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, coming inside of someone, AFAB reader, reader is a Pureblood Slytherin, has hair long enough for Rem to feel it on his shoulders when you're straddling him, reader has hair texture that sticks to you when wet, mentions of smoking weed and being high, mentions of drinking and alcohol, mentions of arranged marriages, use of mudblood and blood supremacy
Remus doesn’t know how exactly this thing started for him.
Perhaps it was the day after a full moon when he forgot to lock the door behind him to the Prefects Bathroom and you let yourself in, nearly fully stripped before you realised he was sitting in the steaming, bubbling pool-sized tub with a spliff hanging lazily from his mouth.
“Circe’s tits!” You screeched as you hastily pulled up your towel to keep your modesty. “You didn’t think to alert me to your presence, Lupin?” You sneered half-heartedly at him as you tried to regain your composure.
“Sorry.” Remus chuckled, voice gravelly from a mixture of last night’s howling and tonight’s smoking. “My brain is moving a little slowly right now.”
You looked between him and the spliff and sighed. “Think you’ll be much longer?” You asked him quietly, cautiously, reticently. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you look so dejected.
Slytherin princess; though you never really let that dictate how you treated people, just that it levelled you with a certain notoriety within the school. You were the only one who could talk sense into Barty Crouch Junior; Pandora Rosier’s biggest defender and advocate; Snape, Mulciber, and Avery’s biggest adversary; the one who encouraged Regulus Black to reach out to his estranged older brother; and the least likely to enact revenge on the Marauder’s for their pranks.
Though Remus had never shared more than a few words with you in passing, he knew a lot about you. In addition to the aforementioned qualities, you were a Pureblood, the eldest daughter and heiress to your family’s name and fortune, Prefect, received top marks in Charms and Transfiguration, and hated the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Knowing all of that made Remus rather rueful that he hadn’t spoken to you before now.
“Listen, this tub is nearly the size of an Olympic swimming pool.” Remus started, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion. “It’s big.” He clarified. “I don’t mind...sharing if you wouldn’t be too uncomfortable; otherwise, I’ll pack up and leave it to you.”
He didn’t really want to leave; not whilst he was still nursing his post-moon hangover and the warm water was finally starting to relieve some of the tension in his bones. But you looked forlorn, and damn Remus and his bleeding heart, he’d give it up if you needed it.
“I don’t want to kick you out... you were here first.” You murmured, apparently weighing your options in your head.
“I will leave if you want, L/N, but I’m more than willing to share.”
You searched his eyes for what, Remus wasn’t sure, but you seemed to come to some decision. You threw your head back and let out a strangled groan which Remus was certain was more for dramatic effect than it was indicative of any real ire.
“Fine, turn around.”
Remus smirked at you and tried to ignore the protesting of his joints as he stood in the pool and turned to face the opposite wall, allowing you to drop the rest of your clothes and your towel and sink into the water.
“Okay...” You whispered quietly. “You can sit back down now; thank you.”
Perhaps it had begun then; he’d offered you a puff from his joint, causing you to move closer to him. He was a gentleman and avoided noticing the way your breasts sat high on your chest, buoyant in the bubbly and fragrant waters.
He ignored the feeling of your elbow brushing against his. He ignored the way your hair, damp from the steam and humidity, stuck against your skin. And he definitely ignored the way that as the weed started to affect you, you leaned your head onto his shoulder.
What he couldn’t ignore? When you asked him what you could do to help him.
“Help?” Remus asked you bemusedly, jostling his shoulder and forcing you to sit up and return his gaze.
“Yeah; you seem tense, stressed.”
Remus let out a confused chuckle from his nose. “That’s really not anything you need to worry about.”
You laughed back at him, nudging him with your elbow. “Lupin.” You chided. “You were willing to give up your private pool time, you’ve shared your weed with me, and you’ve let me intrude on your bath; let me worry about it.”
And he doesn’t know how you did it, he’s not even sure he remembers how the rest of the conversation went – one moment the two of you were sitting an entire swimming pool apart and pretending the other wasn’t there, and the next moment he was sitting on the edge of the pool with his hands tangled in your hair as you took him in your mouth.
“Christ, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He tried warning you, tapping your shoulder to get your attention.
Like the watery siren that you were, all you did was moan and take him deeper, and in another moment, he was spilling down your throat.
Remus was sure he looked absolutely wrecked; naked, soaking, exhausted, a few fresh wounds from last night, and his permanent eye bags a more dramatic purple today on account of his lack of sleep last night.
Not you though; somehow even though you’d just done all the work, you looked ethereal. Wet hair pooling in the water around you as you sunk into the suds up to your collarbones, your lips swollen and glistening from your fantastic work if you asked Remus, and eyes a mischievous magnet nearly luring Remus back into the pool completely against his will.
“Godric, you’re good at that.” He breathed embarrassingly. Thankfully, you only laughed at with him.
“I’m sure you meant that as a compliment, Lupin; but it sort of sounds like you’re calling me a whore.”
Remus cackled at that, thankful that his time in the water eased the soreness in his ribs before doing so.
“If you give me a few moments, I’ll return the favour dove.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You offered, moving back to the other side of the pool to retrieve the book you’d deserted in favour of pot, and then in favour of cock. “I’ll just take an I.O.U.”
Or maybe it started at the Ravenclaw afterparty following their win against Hufflepuff. You showed up with your friends fashionably late and clearly having pre-gamed to some extent if Barty’s uncoordinated movements were anything to go by.
He noticed you every once in a while, flitting around the party with various friends, dancing to various tunes, participating in various games over conversations; but something was different about you. You weren’t as...glowy.
Your smile never met your eyes, and your laughs weren’t carefree – not like they were in the tub. Not like they ought to be.
But hey, you helped him when he needed it, and he did technically owe you.
He brushed past you and gently pulled on your elbow as he continued moving. When you turned back to see what had happened, he nodded toward the exit.
He didn’t bother turning around to see if you were following him, he just carried on down the stairs of Ravenclaw tower before turning the corner to an empty corridor.
“Oi, Lupin; your legs are longer than mine. Slow down!” You called. 
He didn’t realise at that time how much it meant to him that you had followed; hindsight being 20/20, and all.
“Where are we going?” You queried as you caught up and walked in step with him.
“You’ll see.” He said simply, cutting across the hall and opening the door to an empty classroom.
“Going to teach me how to translate Ancient Runes, Lupin?” You joked, though your affect was clearly lacking.
“I’m going to help.” He responded simply, leaning backwards against the professor’s desk.
“Help?”
“Right.”
You smirked and raised a singular perfectly manicured eyebrow at him, looking him up and down with a suggestive glance.
“What exactly are you to help me with?”
“You seem worried, tense.” He repeated your exact words from the tub a little over a week ago.
You offered him a half smile that, once again, never met your eyes. “That’s not something you need to worry about.”
He offered you a soft smile in return. “I do owe you, though.”
Remus doesn’t know what it was that convinced you to accept his offer. One moment he was leaning casually against the professor’s desk as you watched him warily from the door to the classroom, and the next moment he had you splayed out on the desk before him with the skirt of your dress bunched up around your waist and his head between your legs.
Now, it’s important to note that Remus is a humble and modest person. In fact, he’s really quite self-conscious. He didn’t come from a notable family and compared to his friends he was basically a pauper, he was scarred and tall and lanky, and due to his lycanthropy, he avoided meaningful relationships; meaning that whilst his friends all enjoyed relationships and situationships, he stayed religiously single.
All that being said, there was something Remus knew to be true that he felt worth bragging about.
He was fucking good in bed.
So his ego was properly stroked when you threw your head back so hard that it made a painful whacking sound against the wood of the desk with just the first stripe of his tongue through your folds.
Like a man starved, he buried his face between your legs and hardly ever came back up for air. He pulled your hips flush to his chest with your legs thrown over his shoulders and his arms hugging your thighs that he used as earmuffs.
Remus could easily call this one of his new favourite places to be, especially with the sinful sounds escaping your mouth.
He used his thumb to tease your clit, thrusting his tongue in your hole a few times before bringing it back out to run through your lips.
“Oh, Merlin!” You cried, causing him to chuckle, which caused you to flinch slightly at the feeling of his cold breath against your cunt.
“Come now, L/N; you know that’s not my name.”
You let out another cry as he wasted no time diving back in, his nose rubbing at your clit as his tongue continued its assault.
Remus’ efforts were rewarded in the form of you cumming on his face and your body falling limp below him.
He allowed you to catch your breath as he fought to catch his own, ignoring his knees crying in protest from having spent the last however long supporting his weight on the hard stone floor.
“Oh gods.” You breathed finally, opening your eyes and stealing a shy glance at Remus, still stationed near your core.
He smiled wolfishly at you. “Better?”
You laughed; a real, hard laugh that had been missing from you all night. “Much.” You agreed readily, accepting his outstretched hand and sitting up on the edge of the desk and pushing your skirt back down to cover yourself. “Thank you, Lupin.”
Remus shrugged nonchalantly as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a snap of his fingers, pushing open a window with a flick of his wand. “What are friends for?”
You snorted inelegantly; a far cry from the proper Pureblood heiress you’d been raised to be as you pulled your panties back on and took careful, albeit slightly wobbly, steps to join him at the window.
“Are we friends now?”
“Were we not friends before?” He countered, offering you a drag from his smoke that you easily accepted. He was sure his lips, tongue, and now the end of his cigarette still tasted like you.
“I didn’t think your kind was supposed to be friends with mine.” You offered, not looking at him as you passed the cigarette back.
“Blood status, really L/N?”
You scoffed derisively. “Please, Lupin. Give me some credit.”
It seemed to Remus that you looked almost hurt at his insinuation.
“I meant Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s.”
“Perhaps we can be the first.”
“Do many of your friends see you naked, Lupin?”
Remus grimaced at that. “Honestly? More than I’d like, yes.”
And there it was again, that uninhibited laugh. Remus felt vindicated in his task for this evening.
“Alright, friends then.” You agreed, reaching out for his cigarette and taking a long drag before returning it to him. “Let me know when you might need my help again, Lupin.”
“Likewise.”
And maybe it was the day that he had Avery pinned against the wall by the collar of his shirt for calling a first year Hufflepuff a Mudblood.
There was blood dripping from Remus’ nose onto the collar of his uniform shirt from an elbow to the face as he spat various threats promises of pain and maiming, when he felt a gentle hand on the small of his back.
Due to the tension radiating through Remus’ body considering how close it was to the moon, his first reaction was to throw an elbow behind him. He thanked every deity possible that you were shorter than him when you ducked expertly to dodge his assault.
“Let him go.” You said simply.
Remus felt his brows furrow as he let out a protesting grumble.
“McGonagall is coming.” You continued.
Remus looked from you back to Avery who was now smirking at him. If Remus left now, Avery would tell McGonagall what Remus did; if Remus stayed, he could tell McGonagall what Avery had said.
“He won’t say anything.” You argued - as if you had heard Remus’ internal conundrum - causing Avery’s face to fall and both boys to whip their heads to you.
“And why the bloody hell won’t I, L/N?” Avery spat.
Your eyes moved from Remus’ to Avery’s where they took on a horrifyingly cold quality, no doubt the result of your cold and indifferent parents raising you like a proper Pureblood heir.
“Because I know where you sleep.” You spat lowly.
Remus watched as Avery fought to remain defiant, but as he heard the sound of McGonagall’s footsteps approaching, let out a frustrated groan.
“Fine. Sod off.” He barked, pushing Remus away from him roughly and stalking off towards the Slytherin dungeons.
Remus angrily picked up his book bag and began stalking down the corridor in the opposite way.
His blood was boiling, the tension in his shoulders and neck was starting to give him a headache and every step he took aggravated the matter.
He turned hastily around a corner when the strap of his book bag was pulled off his shoulder.
“What?” He hissed when he turned to see you with the other end of his strap in your hand.
“This way.”
“L/N.”
“Lupin.” You countered severely, voice intoning no nonsense.
Remus allowed you to drag him by his bookbag like a dog down a seemingly abandoned corridor and into an empty classroom before you locked the doors and threw up a silencing charm.
“What are you doing?” He muttered admittedly far more petulantly than you presently deserved from him.
“Helping.” You answered simply as you began undoing your school tie.
“I’m fine.” He spat, plopping himself down roughly into a chair. 
“Right.” You said sarcastically. “And you wouldn’t have continued to punch the first arse you saw on your way back to Gryffindor, huh?” You asked as you started pulling off your top and exposing your lacy black bra. “And I may not be an expert, but you’re a long way from Gryffindor tower which means your chances of running into an arse were really rather high.”
Remus held his hands up to his face and pinches at his temples, trying to stave off the incoming migraine and the overwhelming urge to tell you to fuck off, which he knew he really didn’t want to do. 
Suddenly you were in nothing but your bra and panties, kneeling before him and fussing with his belt.
“This really isn’t necessary, L/N.” He offered without much fervour. 
“What are friends for?” You asked quietly as you pulled his belt from the loops of his trouser.
“You don’t have to.”
“Do you want me to stop?” You asked pointedly, pausing your movements and looking up at him. You were giving him a choice; an out. Did he want to blow off some steam, or did he want to spend the rest of his day pissed off and tense?
Did he want you to stop?
“No.” He admitted.
Your eyes softened, though everything else about your face remained impassive as you undid the button and zip to his trousers and began encouraging them down his legs.
He decided to give up on his temper tantrum and assist you in the unenviable task of disrobing him and pulled you up into his lap.
“I don’t need anything.” You squeaked as he had you straddle his lap, your hair falling over your shoulders and tickling his own from your place above him.
“I’m not going to get in a fight and be a selfish lover all in the same day, L/N.” He said in faux admonishment. “Friends look after each other, yeah?”
And he’s not sure what swayed you. One moment he had you perched precariously above him as he gently nipped at your neck, and the next moment he was brutally thrusting up into you with no lack of desperation. 
“Fuckin’ hells you feel amazing.” He grunted as you mewled above him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed shut causing Remus to worry momentarily.
“Are you okay?” He asked breathlessly. You moaned in response and dropped your chin onto his shoulder.
“Hey, dove, you okay?” He asked again, pulling you from him and slowing his movements.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop, Lupin.” You barked before you pulled his face to yours by the ends of his hair for a searing kiss. 
He grinned somewhat maniacally into the kiss and lifted you from his lap as he stood with his cock still lodged deep within you and perched you on the edge of the desk.
“You’re a bossy girl, aren’t you?” He taunted, pushing roughly into you from this new angle and causing you to cry out. “You like telling men what to do, dove?”
You gasped as Remus found the magic little spot he’d been searching for and he doubled down in his thrusts with renewed vigour. 
“That’s okay.” He continued, brushing a strand of hair away from your face that had gotten stuck in some of your lipgloss. “I like being told what to do.”
“Please! Please, please please.” You whined, a pretty sheen of sweat dusted your skin and began to pool on the divot of your collarbone. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck me.”
“Working on it.”
You were apparently coherent enough to laugh at that which was torture for Remus who was currently hanging on by a fucking thread as your giggles caused your cunt to clench torturously around his cock.
“Come on, pretty girl. Come on, cum for me, yeah? You’re close; I can tell. Cum for me.” He started chanting, moving his hand that was currently holding your knee up near his ribs to rub circles around your clit.
“Cum for me, L/N.”
“Oh fuck.” You shouted as your orgasm tore through you; Remus felt almost sick from the effort not to follow you over the edge immediately, wanting to help you ride out yours to fruition, but your walls pulsating around him left him very little control over the matter.
“Fuck.” Remus growled, and unfortunately that was the only warning you got before slammed into you once more, twice more, and was then spilling inside you causing your cunt to grow impossibly more wet and warm.
You let out a desperate breath and fell forward into Remus’ chest; he was ashamed to admit how much he relished in the intimacy - ignoring the very intimate act that had already taken place. 
“Fuck Lupin, you’re an animal.” You breathed out with a laugh.
Remus let out a surprised bark of laughter as he looked down at you.
“You have no idea.”
And if it wasn’t any of those, perhaps it was a few weeks later, when Remus saw a regal looking owl fly into the Great Hall over the Slytherin table, and with a grand war cry dropped an important looking letter in front of you, causing the rest of your table to fall silent. 
Remus watched as Regulus Black’s jaw tightened and Barty Crouch Junior’s spoon fell back into his porridge as they watched you open it.
Remus watched as all colour seemed to drain from your face and your jaw fell slack, though not open.
The rest of the Hall seemed completely unaware of the turmoil taking place over at the Slytherin table; everyone but Remus and, apparently, Sirius Black. 
“Shit.” Sirius whispered under his breath quietly, alerting neither Peter nor James who were currently in a heated debate about whether pumpkin pasties or sugar quills were the better treat from Honeydukes.
“What is it?” Remus asked him quietly. Sirius seemed nearly surprised that Remus had noticed, though schooled his expression quickly.
“Marriage announcement, she’s been betrothed.” He sneered the word, his nose actually wrinkling in disgust. “‘Sold off’ is a more appropriate term. It’s too bad, I quite liked her.”
Remus didn’t really like the feeling that settled in his stomach when he considered you being married off, but he didn’t have time to think on it too hard before he watched you storm over to Avery, Mulciber, and Snape before grabbing the former by the nape of his neck and slamming his head down into the table.
Remus was up and over to you in an instant with Sirius close behind, beaten only by Barty and Regulus who had the advantage of proximity.
“You miserable fucking wanker! You’ll fucking rot for this!” You screamed as Regulus fought and nearly lost in his battle of holding you back as Barty began sparring with your newfound enemy.
“I’ll fucking kill you for this Avery! You watch your fucking back!” You screeched. Regulus - for what reason, Remus couldn’t know - thought now a good moment to put you down, and as you launched yourself once again for what he was sure was Avery’s jugular, Remus threw you over his shoulder and took off out of the Great Hall.
“Put me down!” You shouted.
“No.” 
“Fuck off, Lupin.” You cried, grabbing at his jumper and slamming your fists into his lower back as he took the stairs two at a time. 
“You’re fine, L/N.”
You squealed and began kicking your legs out, causing him to use both arms to pin them to his torso.
“Stop it.”
“Put me down!”
“Stop it. Stop fighting me.”
“I hate you.”
“That’s fine.” He said, though it felt anything but. But he knew, you weren’t really mad at him, you perhaps weren’t even really mad at Avery.
“I hate you.” You said quietly this time.
“That’s alright.”
You had given up on your fight by the time Remus got to his destination. He was sure his shoulder in your stomach was causing you issues and the blood had to have been rushing to your head, but you remained placid as he hoisted you back up right and set you down on the floor of the Astronomy tower. 
Your face was wet and your hair was a mess as you took gasping breaths. 
This was beyond Remus’ wheelhouse when it came to you; he was good for eating you out, blowing off some steam, quickies, and the odd toke or two, but this? This was beyond his area of expertise. 
He decided to sit down beside you - both your backs pressed against the cold stone of the castle in a way he was sure felt good against your skin that was sizzling and crackling with fury. He didn’t say anything; there was nothing to say, nothing that he could say, and nothing he’d really know to say at a moment like this. Perhaps he should have left you to your friends; to the Purebloods who got it. Though, Regulus seemed willing to let you help Barty kill Avery, so perhaps it was better that you were up here with him instead. 
That's what he’d tell himself for now.
It could have been minutes or even an hour before you finally took a deep, shuddering breath.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Do what?” Remus asked quietly.
“Stop me.”
“You stopped me first.”
You let that sit in the air as you looked out into the horizon. 
“What do you need, L/N? What… what can I do?” He begged desperately.
Remus was certain the entire school could hear the sound of his heart breaking at the devastated expression that graced your face when you turned to make eye contact with him; your eyes seemed to beg Remus for something but he couldn’t decipher what it was that you were asking of him.
“I want to…to forget.” You sobbed. “I want to not think, I want to turn it all off for a fucking, god’s damned minute. I want it all to stop.”
“Okay.” He offered readily.
“I want it to stop.”
“Okay.” He repeated, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I’m right here.” He encouraged you. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need to forget.”
“Okay.” Remus said again, pulling at your hand and encouraging you into his lap. “I’m right here; take what you need.”
And Remus wasn’t sure what went through your mind as you searched between his hazel eyes. One moment you were carefully perched above him in his lap; tear tracks staining your cheeks and eyes full of sorrow. And in the next moment, your uniform skirt was hiked up and panties pulled to the side, and Remus’ belt was undone and his trousers were pulled low around his thighs as you bounced up and down on his cock like it was the solution to all of life's problems.
Remus wished it were true, he really did. But if all he could do at this moment was help you turn your brain off and forget the unpleasantness waiting for you back in the castle for just a little bit, then that’s what he would do. 
You had your face shoved into his neck and he was quite sure you were biting down on the junction between his shoulder and his neck - in an attempt to quell your moans, your crying, or just out of frustration, Remus didn’t know, and quite frankly he didn’t care either way. You grinded down onto him and he felt you applying pressure to your clit against his pelvic bone, prompting him to start rubbing it with his thumb. 
“You can let go, gorgeous. No one’s here.” He whispered.
You bit down harder in response and began riding him with an air of desperation. 
“I’m right here.”
And then he felt it. First, he felt your tears fall onto his shoulder, then he felt your teeth break his skin, and finally he felt your walls clench around him.
You stayed latched onto him; your arms around his waist, your hands clenched into the fabric of his jumper, your teeth on his skin and your cunt on his cock as he thrusted up into you and found his own release with very little effort on account of the aftershocks still shuddering through you. 
You sat like that for some time afterwards; the gentle breeze causing goosebumps to cover each of you as the sweat began to cool on your skin, and Remus rubbed circles into your bare thighs with his thumbs.
Unfortunately - for reasons Remus wasn’t willing to ponder on at present - you pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lips to the place on Remus’ neck he was sure now adorned the shape of your teeth.
“Sorry.” You rasped, running a hand over the newest of many wounds now decorating his skin. He didn’t want you to be sorry, though, he thought perhaps this might be his favourite one; it wasn’t the result of some hideous monster who took out its rage on him, but instead marked a tender moment between him and his…friend. 
You pulled your wand to cast a healing charm over it when Remus grabbed your wrist.
“Don’t.”
Your reddened and swollen eyes looked at him inquisitively, causing Remus to flush in embarrassment.
“Leave it, I’ve already got so many; what’s one more?” He tried to joke, though he could tell as you looked back down at the bite mark, it fell flat. 
“I’m sorry.” You said again, and Remus shook his head.
“Don’t be.”
“Thank you.” You said quietly, looking into Remus’ eyes imploringly, as if trying to convey your gratitude through your very soul. “For stopping me.”
This moment suddenly felt too charged for Remus; it was different somehow, something had happened, though he wasn’t sure what.
Not then, at least.
“That’s what friends do.” He said noncommittally. “It was an I.O.U.”
He managed to force a small smile out of you for that, and he was grateful. 
So perhaps it was all of those together, in addition to the many blowjobs, many quickies, many quiet, loud, rough, or awkward fucks the two of you had in between.
But maybe…
Maybe it was the way your smile lit up the room when Barty or Pandora said something particularly outlandish or funny; your laughter echoing through the halls like an invitation to experience a secret joy that only you and your friends knew about.
Or maybe it was the way you seemed to be the only one who could weasel a smile, a laugh, or a fond eye roll out of the notoriously cold and apathetic Regulus.
Or maybe it was how a dimple in your left cheek only appeared when you were particularly proud of an achievement you made or a grade you received. 
Or maybe it was the kind way you sheltered the younger Slytherin’s from the brunt of the Marauder’s pranks without impeding their more good natured ones.
Or maybe it was the way you hexed McLaggen for hitting on Lily Evans, and then again for calling her a filthy Mudblood when she refused his advancements.
Or maybe it was the way that you could always tell when Remus was feeling sad or low and needed help, needed something, needed you.
And fuck.
He needed you.
Remus wasn’t exactly sure how this thing started for him.
One moment you were on your hands and knees in his bed and he was fucking into you from behind; his body curled around yours as he rubbed at your clit expertly to push you over that edge for the third time tonight. And the next moment you were spread out and pliant beneath him, head thrown back in ecstasy as he lazily pushed into you.
He didn’t often get moments like this; moments to just sit and admire you. 
This thing he had with you, it was delicate, precarious. It was precious. And he wasn’t going to go fucking it up by forcing it to be something it wasn’t.
You were friends.
You were friends who helped each other.
You were friends who have seen each other naked; who have tasted each other’s sweat, skin, flesh, blood, and cum. 
You were friends who have spent time with each other, on each other, and in each other.
You were friends.
That’s what you had agreed to, that was the arrangement, that was all this was supposed to be.
And then Remus’ stupid sodding heart had to go and fucking yearn for you.
It ached to sit beside you in the library without it being a precursor for one of you to be on your knees in the stacks moments later. 
It ached to ask you about your day for the sole purpose of getting to hear about it and not just as a means to help you take your mind off it by bending you over in an empty classroom. 
It ached to watch you, uninhibited throughout the day, without it causing grief, or angst, or hungry looks being exchanged. 
It ached to taste your lips without tasting the leftover sex from previous actions. 
It ached for you to climb into the shower with him after this, to throw on one of his ratty old band tees, and to stay.
It ached for you to stay.
He wanted you to stay.
But you guys were friends.
And that was enough, it had to be enough. He would make it be enough. 
So sue him; sue him for taking this extra moment to admire your form below him, when you were only his in this moment. Sue him for memorising the way your hair pooled around your head like a halo even after all the tugging and ruffling that it has been subjected to. Sue him for watching the way your breasts bounced with each gentle thrust of his hips, the way your ribs expanded and contracted with each breath, the way the two of you fit so perfectly together; your body accepting him with grace and ease as he slotted the two of you together over and over and over again.
He ached for you.
And damn him - damn him and his bleeding heart and this beautiful girl beneath him - he reached out to pull a strand of hair that laid plastered to the side of your sweaty face.
He didn’t just ache for you.
He yearned for you.
He loved you.
He was in love with you.
And Godric only knows how far gone he was or for how long now. But it didn’t matter; none of it mattered. All that mattered was this ethereal being that, for just this moment, was all his. 
He doesn’t know how long your eyes had been returning his gaze. He supposed it didn’t matter, because he knew; he knew it was written all over his face. 
He may as well have been flashing a neon sign on his forehead: “My name is Remus, and I’m wildly in love with you”. And if the sign hadn’t been enough, he was sure his actions were.
There was no longer any desperation in his actions; no destination in mind as he slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in again. His hands weren’t placed in precise locations to elicit a specific reaction of any sort, but rather roved languidly over your body in meticulous worship. 
And if that hadn’t been enough, he was sure that the way you were staring deep into his eyes, into his soul; you saw. You knew.
The jig was up.
He had been outed. 
Your eyes widened minutely and began to flit around Remus’ face as your grip on his arms stationed on either side of your body loosened. 
You knew.
Though it was all for naught at this point, Remus scrunched his eyes closed as if he could save any of his remaining dignity; not that there was much left.
This was it, it was all going to be over.
He lowered himself over your body and pressed his face into your neck, hiding like the coward he was as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.
Gently, tentatively, he felt you press a cautious hand between his shoulder blades and another to the nape of his neck. 
Somehow, the tenderness in your touch hurt more. 
He came with a strangled cry, feeling humiliating tears fall from his eyes as he filled you up for what he was certain would be the last time.
He melted into your hold and cried silently into your shoulder, and you let him.
Your hand that was stationed between his shoulder blades never moved, but your hand in his hair kneaded gentle, soothing circles into his scalp.
He wanted you to stop; he wanted you to stop because this was all he really wanted... to be here, with you, like this.
He wanted the rough and the fun and the biting and the hair pulling, sure. But he wanted the gentle, the soft, the affection, and the innocent intimacy, too. 
That wasn’t fair though; it wasn’t fair to you. You never asked for it, and you never offered it.
You never asked for it.
You never offered it.
He decided that he’d been hiding in your neck for far longer than he had any right to, and slowly pulled his face away from its sanctuary. 
He looked up at you through his curls in shame to see you had tear tracks down your cheeks too.
What a fucking mess.
He was a fucking mess; and he’d dragged you down into it.
He slowly pulled out of you and summoned a tissue to clean up the cum leaking from your folds. You hissed at the sensation and he whispered an apology before pulling on a pair of pyjama pants and throwing you a t-shirt that he hoped to fucking God was clean, and sat on the edge of James’ bed; facing you, though his head was bowed in shame.
“I’m sorry.” He offered pathetically, knowing it was not even close to helpful in this situation.
“When…” You started, voice both gravely from the sex and tight with emotions as new tears fell. “When did this happen?”
He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t know. He couldn't say.
“When,” you tried again. “When did this change?”
Your face fell into your hands as you began to cry in earnest.
He wondered what part of this upset you the most; the loss of this friend that you had in him? The pressure to offer him more than you were willing to give? The feeling of guilt over not being able to return his feelings?
You didn’t seem to be waiting for an actual answer from him, but were rather voicing the thoughts running through your head as they came to you.
“I should go.” He whispered, even though this was his room, even though you were wearing his shirt.
“Don’t.” You demanded harshly, eyes blazing with a fire he never imagined ever being shot at him. “Don’t you dare leave me here like this; not after that.”
He nodded quickly, sitting back down on James’ bed as you wiped angrily at your face.
He wished you wouldn’t; he wished you’d be more gentle.
He didn’t get to wish things like that, though.
“When, when did this become love?” You asked in a mixture of shock and bemusement; the thought of an equation you couldn’t solve was clearly insulting to you. 
Remus shook his head in disgrace. “I’m sorry.” He offered weakly.
You scoffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Sorry for what, exactly? Making me fall in love with you? Making me fall in love with you and not telling me about it?”
“You... too?” He rasped, looking at you with a slack jaw.
“Fuck.” You seethed, standing up and beginning to pace the dorm room for a few moments as you seemed to think back on the entire duration of this situation.
“When!?” You demanded again after a few moments.
“I don’t know.” He admitted honestly, placatingly.
“Fuck.” You paused in place, bringing your hands to your mouth. Remus hated it, but you paused right in front of the hearth, causing your form to be illuminated by an ethereal glow. He thought you looked beautiful.
“I’m sorry.” He said, for daring to even think such a thing.
But, maybe…maybe if you loved him too, he could think such things?
“Fuck.” You said again, still staring unseeingly at the wall of his dorm as you stood in nothing but an oversized shirt in the middle of the room.
“What-” Remus started, taking a cautious step towards you as if you were a wild animal poised to run at any given moment. “What do you want, Y/N?”
Not one muscle in your body moved save for your eyes as they shot over to him.
“Anything.” He whispered.
I’ll give you anything you want; be anything you want. Say it and I’m yours. I’m yours.
I’m already all yours.
“I need to pee.” You said plainly.
Remus’ chest deflated in relief that you weren’t asking him to obliviate this memory from your mind.
“And then…” You took a shuddering breath that made Remus want to fold you up and keep you safe in his breast pocket for the rest of his life. “And then I want to talk. About this, okay? Please?”
Remus nodded quickly, readily, so unbelievably willingly.
“Don’t leave, please. Please be here when I get back.” You whispered; eyes, voice, and body language far more vulnerable than he ever remembered seeing from you (and ever cared to see from you again).
“Always.”
And he kept that promise.
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sluts4matt · 1 month
Text
FIRST HIT
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pairing: soft!chris x reader
summary: chris comes over to smoke, deciding he wanted his first time to be with you. although things take a slight turn.
warnings: SMUT, suggestive comments, use of weed, fingering, pet names, dirty talk, breeding kink (if you squint), praising
word count: 2440
author's note: i thought about this when i was getting ready to go to sleep ngl
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you smiled down at your phone, excited and filled with joy that chris wanted you to be the person he smoked with for the first time.
him and his brothers were completely sober, had been since you met them basically when they first moved to LA. they didn't drink, didn't smoke, and didn't do drugs, so this was a huge step for him.
you slipped on your slides, pulling a 'fresh love' hoodie over your head and down your torso. you grabbed your car keys from the top of your vanity, leaving your bedroom and going out your front door.
you got in the car, setting your bluetooth up to play music. the beat of paris by $suicideboy$ rang through your car speakers.
you turned your head, looking out your back mirror before backing out of your spot.
you turned the wheel, beginning the drive to your destination.
it was a quick one, luckily, so you didn't have to deal with the traffic that the city was always experiencing.
you pulled up in the driveway of the house, putting your car in park and looking at your phone sending chris a 'here' message.
thirty seconds go by before he's coming out of the house, his hair falling in front of his eyes. he looked hot, you'd never deny it, but he was your best friend and you had to control yourself.
he walked up to the passenger side opening the door and sliding in, "always the passenger princess aren't you," you chirped mockingly, starting your car.
"suck my dick," chris mumbled playfully rolling his eyes. "mhm," you hummed, "what's this about you wanting to smoke?" you ask, glancing at him before your eyes go back to the road.
"oh uh," he says, rubbing his thumb and index finger together. "i don't know, just felt like it," he says. "so," he continues, "i was hoping you'd be the person who showed me."
you nodded, "i'd be honored christopher," you beam. chris adjusts himself in the seat as you drive, the faint sound of music playing in the background.
"what strain is it?" you ask, "something called peanut butter crunch," he stated, grabbing his bag. he started digging around, "homie said it was a hybrid," he added.
"ooh," you purred, "i've been dying to try that," you smiled. he chuckled, "yeah, well, looks like i'm gonna pop your cherry," he joked. you let out a fake laugh, shaking your head.
"tha- okay chris," you said, rolling your eyes. he snickered, pulling a few buds out of his bag. he looked down at them, turning his head and looking out the window.
he had a look of regret on his face, like he was questioning himself if he was making the right decision. "don't force yourself," you mumble, glancing at him.
"what?" he asks, looking back at you. "to smoke, you don't have to if you really don't want to," you say. he lets out a sigh, "no i wanna do this," he said, "just a little nervous," he continued.
"understandable i suppose," you shrug, pulling into your driveway. you park the car, taking the keys out of the ignition and getting out.
chris follows behind, following you inside and up to your room.
you shut the door, going to your desk and pulling out your grinder, as well as a few papers. you sat them down on your desk, then turning to the drawers.
you open one, looking for the lighter that you knew was in there. you found it, picking it up and turning around.
"give," you say, holding your hand out. chris' eyes looked at your hands, more specifically the fresh manicure that sat neatly on your fingernails.
he had always liked your hands, the way you painted your nails and the way the rings you'd wear would sit perfectly.
chris' lips parted slightly, his tongue running across the bottom one. his eyes fluttered back up to yours, giving you the bud.
you looked down, placing the paper down. you started grinding the weed up, watching the way it would fall out of the grinder and onto the paper.
you set the grinder down, looking up and noticing chris' eyes were trained on your hands, watching every movement carefully.
you decided to test something, though you had to do it anyway. you brought the joint up to your lips, your tongue darting out to lick at the paper.
you watched as chris' eyes fell to your tongue, watching it glide across the paper and wetting it. his tongue poked out slightly, mimicking your own actions.
you rolled it back up, placing it down. "all done," you chirped, turning around to grab the lighter.
you went over to your bed, sitting down and crossing your legs. chris followed, sitting down across from you.
you lit the joint, inhaling and feeling the smoke fill your lungs. you looked at him as you blew it out, a cloud forming around you.
"try," you say, holding the joint out to him. he took it hesitantly, bringing it up to his mouth and sucking in. his body shook a bit as he began coughing.
"woah," he choked out, handing the joint back. you laughed, bringing the joint back to your mouth and taking another hit.
he stopped coughing, his eyes meeting yours.
you blew the smoke out, your eyes not moving from his. the air felt thick, like it was filled with something.
he was staring, the only sound in the room was his breathing. "can we try something?" he mumbled, "i saw cj and his girl do it at his party the other night," he continued.
"uh," you started, unsure of what to say. "sure," you replied, taking the joint back from his hands.
"what is it?" you ask. he scooted closer to you, his thighs brushing against yours. his hands wrapped around your thighs, pulling you to his lap. you hovered over his clothed crotch area as he held onto your hips.
"said it was called shot gunning or somethin'" he said. you nodded, bringing the joint up to your lips and inhaling. you lowered your lips down to his, opening them and blowing the smoke into his mouth.
his lips latched onto yours, a hand going up to your face and the other resting on your hip. his fingers brushed the skin on your stomach, sending goosebumps up your back.
he kissed you softly, his tongue poking out and sliding along your bottom lip. you parted them, giving him access to explore your mouth.
his tongue darted inside, his fingers pushing the hem of your shirt up slightly, guiding your hips down. you ground your hips down on his clothed bulge, his lips parting and letting a small moan leave his throat.
his lips parted from yours, a string of saliva connecting your lips. he licked his lips, looking at you with big eyes.
"you okay?" you ask, running your hand through his hair. he nodded, leaning his head down and resting it on your chest.
you rubbed his back, his fingers tracing shapes into the skin of your stomach. "i-i wanna try something else," he mumbled, his voice muffled from the fact that his head was still pressed into your chest.
"alright," you say, a soft smile on your lips. he pulled away, his cheeks red and his pupils blown. he leaned forward, his lips latching onto yours again.
you kissed him back, your eyes fluttering closed. you could feel his hand tanging in your hair, a gasp leaving your lips when he tugged your head back to expose your neck.
he started kissing along the sensitive skin, his tongue darting out and running across the warm flesh. you grinded down on him again, his hand still on your hips.
you could feel his erection, a smirk pulling on your lips. he pulled away from your neck, his hands going to the hem of your sweater and tugging it over your head.
you threw it somewhere in the room, not bothering to pay attention. his hands went to your waist, his fingers trailing up and down the soft flesh.
"c-can i?" he mumbled, his voice a whisper. "of course," you breathed out, watching as his hands trailed up your back and reached to undo the clasp of your bra.
he unclipped it, sliding the straps down your shoulders and pulling the garment off. you tossed it, his eyes trailing down to your breasts.
you were average, not too big or small, but enough to fill his hands. his lips attached to your collarbone, leaving dark marks.
"chris," you whined, his mouth moving down and attaching itself to your nipple. his tongue swirled around the bud, his hand coming up and pinching the other one.
his free hand trailed down, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your sweats.
"can i?" he asked again, looking up at you with puppy eyes. "please," you whined, feeling his fingers slip under the waistband and into your underwear.
"fuck," he whispered, his fingers touching your soaked pussy. "all this for me?" he asked, looking at you with lustful eyes.
you nodded, bucking your hips into his touch. he took that as a signal, his fingers sliding along your wetness.
you whimpered, feeling his middle finger dip into your hole. his palm was rubbing against your clit, the sensation causing you to shake.
"god you're so tight," he moaned, his finger curling up and brushing against the spongy spot inside you. his lips latched onto your nipple again, his fingers working on getting you off.
"chris, oh my god," you whined, a knot starting to form in your stomach. he inserted another finger, the digits pumping in and out of your tight hole.
"please, please, please," you whimpered, rocking your hips and fucking yourself on his fingers. "that's it," he encouraged, his lips kissing along your neck.
"wanna see you come, wanna see you squirt all over my fingers," he cooed, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.
"yes, yes, yes," you chanted, throwing your head back as his fingers picked up the pace. the knot in your stomach tightened, a loud moan leaving your mouth as his fingers curled up.
your orgasm hit you hard, a rush of liquid spurting out of your hole and drenching his fingers.
"good girl," he cooed, pulling his fingers out and sucking them into his mouth.
"fuck," you whispered, watching as he cleaned his fingers. he leaned forward, capturing your lips and letting you taste yourself.
"do you want me to-"
"no," chris interrupted, "just let me take care of you," he said, sliding your sweats and underwear down to the bend of your knees, his fingers reaching down and undoing the tie on his sweats.
you helped him, his hand slipping down into his underwear and pulling his dick out.
you licked your lips, staring down at the member in front of you. it was thick, not as long as you expected, but it was perfect.
a bead of precum dripped down the tip, chris' hand wrapping around it and jerking it slowly.
"can i," he started, looking up at you. you nodded, letting him guide you down so his cock was lined up with your pussy.
"tell me if i hurt you," he says, pressing the tip up against your entrance. you nodded, watching him slowly lower you down.
you winced at the slight sting, his hands rubbing the skin of your thighs. he pushed you down, sheathing his entire length inside you.
"fuck, fuck," you gasped, the pain subsiding and pleasure taking over. chris' lips were parted, a moan falling from his lips.
"so tight," he moaned, "fuck, gonna break my dick off," he joked, a giggle leaving his lips.
you let out a small laugh, the noise turning into a moan when he thrust up into you.
"shit, chris," you whimpered, his dick brushing up against that sweet spot almost immediately.
his hands slid down to your ass gripping the flesh, his nails digging into the skin as he lifted you up and pulled you back down.
you let out a string of moans, your hips bucking up into him as he bounced you up and down on his cock.
"god you look so pretty," he groaned, his thumb reaching up and brushing the bundle of nerves above where you were connected.
your head fell back, your eyes shutting and your mouth open in a silent moan.
chris was groaning, his hips meeting yours as you slammed down onto him.
"gonna cum," you moaned, "inside, please, cum inside," you pleaded. "fuck, you want me to breed you? you want me to make a mess inside you?" he grunted, his nails digging further into the flesh of your ass.
"yeah, yeah, want it, want it so bad," you cried, the knot in your stomach tightening.
"c'mon baby, cum for me," chris encouraged, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit.
your orgasm washed over you, a rush of warmth flooding the lower part of your stomach.
chris moaned, his grip on your hips getting tighter as he pounded up into you.
"yes, yes, fuck," you whimpered, your body going limp. chris flipped you over, pounding his hips into yours.
your head fell back onto the mattress, a series of gasps and whines leaving your mouth.
"so fucking tight," chris moaned, watching your eyes roll back. it gave him a complex knowing he was the one making you feel like this.
"c'mon chrissy, wanna feel you," you encouraged, your nails digging into his shoulder blades.
his eyes rolled back, a string of curse words falling from his lips. his hips stuttered, a groan leaving his mouth as he spilled his seed inside you.
he thrusted a few more times, making sure he was empty.
"shit," he whispered, his hand cupping your face.
"hey," he says, looking into your eyes. "hi," you giggle, reaching up and grabbing his face.
"can i kiss you?" he asks, his lips just barely ghosting yours. you nodded, letting him capture your lips in a soft, yet passionate, kiss.
"i like you," he mumbles, pulling away and looking at you. "well, no shit sherlock," you joked, laughing.
"no," chris sighed, his hand running through his hair. "i mean, like, i want you," he said, his words not making sense.
"like, i want to be your boyfriend," he clarified, "want you to be my girl," he continued.
you smiled, reaching up and running your thumb over his cheekbone. "christopher," you start, his eyes widening, "i want you to be my boyfriend," you finish.
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@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @lily-strnlo @etvar12 @iloveurgf @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolho @mayhem-72 @nicksmainbitch @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @catalina-island @stars4chratt @gbaabyyyy @monkeyscientist22 @skyslondon
1K notes · View notes
bonewreath · 4 months
Text
𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 | 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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description: you’ve been getting closer to ellie lately and, unbeknownst to you, your blossoming crush is entirely reciprocated. cue your first smoke sesh together… and a little something more, too. [modern au, ellie and reader are both over 18]
warnings: weed use, oral sex, fingering. this fic is 18+, minors do not interact.
author’s note: my first ellie fic and my first fic on this blog! pls be nice :) let me know what you think <3
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The first few times you hung out with Ellie, she’d offered you a joint. It’s no secret that Ellie’s the town’s top dealer, a welcome sight at rowdy house parties, her backpack stuffed with ziplock bags of the best bud around. You’d tried weed before, had taken a puff or two from poorly-rolled blunts here and there, but you’d never particularly enjoyed it. Mostly, you’d just coughed up a lung and felt nothing but a vague lightheadedness. So when Ellie rolled up a joint the first time you’d come over to her place, offering you a drag after she’d sparked up, you’d politely declined.
Ellie had arched a brow. “You mind if I smoke? Shit - I can put it out.”
Before you’d had the chance to respond, she was already reaching for the ashtray on her nightstand, ceramic and painted to resemble an eight-ball.
“No, no, it’s fine,” you interjected, reaching out and touching her wrist almost involuntarily. You pushed down the flurry of butterflies that erupted in your stomach at the contact. God, you had to be touch-starved or something. Since when did touching someone’s arm make your heart skip a beat?
Ellie looked at you with a guarded kind of suspicion, like she didn’t believe that you were fine with her smoking. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” you said, lips curling into an encouraging smile. “I don’t mind weed, it just doesn’t do anything for me.”
“Huh.” Ellie nodded. She lifted the joint to her lips again and you glanced away, chest tightening from the sight of her lips pursing.
“If you ever wanna try again,” she paused to exhale a plume of smoke, intentionally avoiding your direction, “let me know. Not to, like, toot my own horn or anything, but I’ve never had someone try my weed and not like it.”
You let out an easy laugh. “Okay, we’ll have to see about that.”
Ellie was smiling at you, those green eyes twinkling like so many stars. “No pressure.”
That was months ago, when the summer heat still blazed from sunrise to sunset. It’s mid-winter now, the chill nipping at your cheeks and the end of your nose. To your agony, it hasn’t gotten any easier to breathe when you touch Ellie - when she greets you with a hug and a smile at her front door, you feel like you’re paralyzed with want. And Ellie’s probably none the wiser, of course. You wonder if she’s ever noticed the way your breath hitches when she stretches out on the couch beside you, leaning her head on your shoulder while some tacky eighties film lights up the television screen. You figure she’s oblivious - she’s just being friendly. She probably doesn’t even know you like girls, anyway. Plus, she doesn’t shy away from talking about the girls she’s been with before. You’ve spent more than a few nights seething with jealousy as she recounted her latest hookup, schooling your expression into one of disinterest or even mild enthusiasm.
It’s been a while since she’s talked like that, luckily. You’re grateful you don’t have to feign excitement about Ellie’s latest conquests anymore.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Ellie interrupts your internal monologue, hands still working at the joint in her lap. She’s got a pile of ground-up weed on a rolling tray, sprinkling it into the perfectly-rolled cone like it’s muscle memory. It probably is.
“Nothing,” you blurt, cheeks warming. “Sorry, just zoned out for a second.”
“Oh, bullshit,” Ellie quips, rolling her eyes despite the smile playing at her lips. “What, you can’t tell me? I thought we were friends, cherry.”
You flush anew at the nickname. She’d picked it out for you after you’d scarfed down an entire jar of maraschino cherries one night, after Ellie had bought them for ice cream sundaes. You’d never live that down… But you’re not sure you want to, because every time the nickname leaves Ellie’s lips, you feel like you’re glowing bright red with admiration.
“We are friends!” You nudge Ellie’s shoulder with yours, rolling your eyes with that same playfulness she’d expressed. “Sorry, it’s just - it’s embarrassing.”
Ellie narrows her eyes. It’s like you can see the cogs turning in her head. “Embarrassing? What, you got a crush on some guy or something?”
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, she’s prattling on again. “Y’know, just ‘cause I’m gay doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me about your crushes. Swear I won’t be weird about it.”
Oh god.
“It’s not - I’m not…” You sigh, gaze lowering to your lap, where you’re fiddling with your hands. Should you tell her? You should probably tell her.
“I like girls, you know.”
It’s quiet for so long that you need to look up at Ellie to make sure she’s still there, still listening. And she is; her eyes are glued to you, wide in disbelief.
“What?” You feel like a bug under a microscope with her looking at you like that. “Is it that hard to believe?”
Ellie shakes her head emphatically. “No, no - it’s not. I just didn’t expect that.”
She turns away to finish rolling the joint, twisting the very end of the paper until it forms a little point. “Guess you’re just full of surprises, huh, cherry?”
You bite your lip to stifle a smile, but Ellie sees it anyway.
“So who’s the lucky girl?” She asks, rummaging through her pocket until she finds her lighter. You watch Ellie spark the joint, the twisted end catching fire until the cherry starts to glow. Ellie takes a few puffs and the scent of smoke tickles your nose.
“I’d prefer not to say,” you tell her, chewing on the inside of your lip. Your nerves are off the wall; you’re so anxious that the joint in Ellie’s slender fingers is suddenly tempting.
Ellie scoffs. “Boring.”
She looks up at you as she flicks ash off the end of the joint, and when she notices you eyeing it, her brows lift.
“Want some? Will that make you spill?”
You huff a nervous laugh, toying with the ends of your hair. “No… I don’t know. Maybe?”
Ellie whoops, her free hand curling into a fist of victory. “Fuck yeah. Here, take it.”
She offers you the joint and you take it, but not without a moment or two of hesitation. You will the anxiety away with the thought that you probably won’t feel anything. Ellie watches as you bring the joint to your lips and inhale, praying you won’t cough and make a fool of yourself. Especially not with Ellie watching so intently.
By the grace of some kind of divine being, you don’t cough. Your throat tickles, and you feel emboldened to take one more hit, letting the smoke fill your lungs. You imagine your body relaxing, the knot in your stomach unwinding. You hand the joint back to Ellie and she takes a puff of her own, her lips curled into the faintest little smirk.
“So…” Ellie trails off expectantly.
“God, you’re persistent,” you groan. She just peers at you knowingly from behind a veil of smoke.
“There’s not much to tell,” you say. “I’ve had a crush on this girl for a while now, but I don’t think she feels the same.”
“Have you asked her?” Ellie prompts, flicking ash off the joint.
You shake your head. “No way.”
“Then,” Ellie pauses to take another hit, “how do you know she doesn’t feel the same?”
You should be feeling anxious with her drilling you like this - you know you should. Usually, you’d be retreating into yourself with every prodding question Ellie asks. But all you feel now is yearning; there’s an ache in your chest that only she can remedy. And, clearly, Ellie’s clueless about it.
You don’t want her to be clueless, you realize.
The words leave your lips before you can think better of them. “Do you, Ellie?”
Her brows knit together, forming a crease that you’ve memorized by now - like every other freckle and wrinkle on her face. “Huh? Do I what?”
You reach for the joint and she yields it without question.
“Do you feel the same about me?”
The weed has certainly helped with your nerves, you think, watching Ellie’s expression shift from confusion to realization. Her plush lips part, but all that comes out is a series of stammers and false sentence starts: “I—you—what?”
Fuck it, you think. You stretch out to reach the nightstand beside Ellie’s bed, leaving the joint in one of the ashtray’s notches. A steady stream of smoke ribbons upward from the fading cherry.
“Ellie,” you start, settling back into your place on the rug. You look at her to find her already staring at you, blinking. “It’s you. I have a crush on you. It’s been—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ellie interjects, voice softer than you’d expected.
You blink. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, I guess. And you always talked about other girls, so I thought you just… Weren’t interested.”
“Cherry.” Ellie sits up on her knees so she can get closer to you, the sleeves of her oversized flannel slipping down to her forearms as she reaches out and grabs your face. Her touch is gentle but firm, insistent. You can feel the callouses on her fingers against your skin, her thumbs brushing up against your cheekbones, and the air is suddenly so thin you can hardly inhale.
“I have… I’ve had feelings for you for so long. So fucking long, cherry.” Ellie’s gaze is intense, eyes boring into you. You feel exposed, raw, alive with something electric.
You stare right back at her, frozen in her grasp.
“But you were always talking about other girls,” you say. Doubt lingers in the back of your head; this is too good to be true. Right?
“I know, fuck, I’m sorry,” Ellie sighs. “I thought you weren’t interested in me. Thought it was hopeless, y’know? My perfect best friend having feelings for me? Unreal.”
One of Ellie’s hands smooths over your hair; it’s something she’s done plenty of times before, but it feels different now. More intimate, with your shared confessions between you.
“Wanna know something?” Ellie asks then plows on, not really waiting for an answer, “I stopped hooking up with other girls a while ago. I just… Couldn’t.”
You nod in understanding. Your eyelids feel heavy all of the sudden, each blink heavier than the last.
“They weren’t you,” Ellie adds.
They weren’t you, her words echo in your mind.
“Ellie,” you breathe. Her face is impossibly close; you can pick out every detail of her face. Each pore, each freckle, each fleck of brown in her green eyes. You can smell the weed smoke on her breath.
“Cherry,” she responds, voice hushed just as low as yours. “Cherry. Can I kiss you?”
“God, yes,” you practically whine.
When Ellie kisses you for the first time, she tastes like relief.
Her lips are soft and insistent against yours, the pad of her thumb warm against your cheek as you lean in closer to kiss her back. It’s like time has gone still; the hum of the speaker on Ellie’s dresser fades away, as does the sound of the winter winds hissing and whooshing against the window. All you know is Ellie: her hand slipping down the length of your back to grab your hip, her mouth hot and needy against yours. It’s a desperate sort of kiss, one that you’d both been yearning for, and months of pining drain from your mouth to hers, then back again.
You’re not sure if you’d been kissing for seconds or hours when Ellie finally breaks away, gasping.
“Fuck,” she whispers. The tip of her nose brushes against your cheek, then your nose. “We should stop, before I…”
She trails off but you know exactly what she’d left unsaid. And your stomach flips in response; the mere thought of what else Ellie might do with her mouth has your cunt throbbing.
Ellie’s hand leaves your hip and it’s like she’s left a burn there - one shaped like her touch, a scathing outline on your skin.
“I don’t want to stop,” you find the courage to admit.
You’re not sure who makes the first move this time - only that you’re kissing again, swallowing Ellie’s pleased moans as your tongue prods between her lips. You gasp and pant into each other’s mouths, hands roaming on newly discovered skin; Ellie’s hands slip beneath your tee, her palms hot against your abdomen, your hips, your lower back. When her fingers find the clasp of your bra and unfasten it, you practically shiver with anticipation, back arching into her touch.
“Whoa there,” Ellie laughs, nudging her nose against yours. You go in for another kiss, annoyed that she’d stopped, but she pulls back. “You’re sure you want this, cherry?”
“Please,” you say, taking advantage of the moment to pull your shirt over your head and set it aside. You toss your bra into the growing pile, turning back to Ellie to find her gaping at you.
“Christ,” she says, licking her lips, “you’re fucking perfect.”
She gives you one last heated kiss before her mouth moves to your jawline, then the column of your neck, where she leaves a trail of wet kisses. She sucks on a spot right on the crook of your neck, just shy of leaving a hickey, and your toes fucking curl.
Ellie only gives a low hum of approval at your reaction before she’s moving lower, lower. Her kisses cover your breasts, every inch of skin worshipped by her lips until she finally takes a peaked nipple into her mouth. You feel her tongue swirl against the sensitive bud and you nearly cry from the pleasure, one hand flying up to knot into her hair and tug.
Her gaze moves up to meet yours, and your cunt tightens again at the look of unbridled desire in her eyes - her lids are heavy, too, but you can’t tell if it’s from the weed or sheer lust. Maybe both, you’re not sure, but you don’t have much time to consider it before Ellie’s moving to your other nipple, tongue laving against the taut flesh before she closes her mouth around it and sucks. A ragged moan tears from your throat and you tense, tugging again at the locks of Ellie’s hair in your fist.
She leaves your nipples flushed and sensitive, shining with saliva, and you’re suddenly very aware of the layers of clothes separating you from her. Separating the wetness of your cunt from hers, the bony curve of her hips from your needy mouth. You need those layers gone.
“Ellie,” you whine, pulling at the collar of her flannel.
“Shh, I know,” she coos, voice dripping with syrupy sweet lust. “Why don’t you get on the bed for me, hm?”
You nod and oblige, but not without stopping to slip out of your jeans. You leave your panties on because, well, they’re cute. A white lace thong with a tiny, silky pink bow just below your navel - Ellie’s eyes linger there as she stands at the edge of the bed, unbuckling her belt and stepping out of her cargos. You can feel the wet patch on your panties as you press your thighs together and watch her undress. She’s always been on the thinner side, but as she slides off her flannel and pulls her sports bra over her head, you realize that she’s much more toned than you’d imagined. Her arms flex with each movement and her abdomen is clearly taut with muscle; every inch of new skin she reveals only adds to the agonizing desire churning in your stomach.
Luckily, she seems just as eager as you are. She’s still in a pair of oversized plaid boxers when she grabs hold of your hips and yanks you toward the edge of the bed, pulling your knees apart so she can see what’s between them.
“Look at you,” she says, eyes wide at the sight of your soaked panties. “I didn’t realize you were so needy, cherry. Should’ve let me take care of you sooner.”
Her words send another gush of arousal flooding from your cunt, your stomach twisting. “‘M sorry, Ellie.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she says, lowering herself onto her knees before you. Her fingers hook beneath the lace of your panties to pull them down, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the rug.
Her face sinks between your legs, and the first stroke of her tongue against your folds makes you shiver with relief.
“Oh my god,” you gasp. Ellie moans against your pussy, tongue splitting through your folds, spreading your wetness with every swipe and lick. Your back arches involuntarily, your toes curling in sheer pleasure.
She laps at your cunt like a woman starving, hot tongue drawing circles around your puffy clit. It’s maddening, the way she knows exactly what you need, speeding up and slowing down in accordance with your moans and sighs and whimpers. You’ve never felt so close so quickly, but you don’t want it to stop - her mouth is magic between your legs, and as you hurtle towards your orgasm, she slips a finger into your clenching hole. You nearly scream.
“Ellie,” you moan shakily, your thighs tightening on both sides of her head. “Ellie, I’m gonna…”
She just moans again, mouth working at your clit while her finger sinks in and out of your cunt. She adds another not long after and it’s hardly a stretch with how wet you are. You’re trembling with every stroke of her tongue against your clit, and soon enough, you feel yourself slipping off the edge into oblivion. Your orgasm tears through you like never before, hot and electric, every muscle tensing as Ellie finger-fucks you through every wave of pleasure. Eventually, you push the heel of your hand against her forehead, too overstimulated for her to keep sucking at your too-sensitive clit. She pulls back and sits on her heels, fingers leaving the tight grip of your cunt as she wipes her mouth with her other hand. Your slick covers her from the nose down, the shining evidence of how good she’d made you feel.
“So fucking pretty when you come,” Ellie tells you, standing up and lifting a knee onto the bed beside you. Her hair is a mess, you’d made sure of it, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“Think you’ve got a few more for me?” She smiles at you, wolfish and wicked, and her hand moves to grope at one of your tits.
“Mm,” you hum, reaching out for her. “Only if you have a few for me.”
When she’s close enough, you slip your hand between Ellie’s legs, your fingers brushing through sparse curls to find the heat of her folds. She’s soaked, you realize with self-satisfaction, your tongue swiping over your lower lip.
This will be fun.
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keeksandgigz · 5 months
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the love witch
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modern!eddie munson x fem!witchy!reader
summary: Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend. Hell, he's not even sure how he was able to get you interested in him in the first place. Despite him not really believing in your witchy practices, he's incredibly supportive, but that doesn't come without his cheeky digs. He agrees to a tarot reading for shits and giggles. You don't like that he doesn't take it seriously.
cw: no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, reader has female anatomy, oral (F receiving), face sitting, sub!Eddie, dom!Reader, choking, slight biting, dirty talk, honorifics, unprotected piv (pls don't do that), ending leans towards the whole witchy vibe
word count: 4.8k
this and all my works are 18+ minors do NOT interact
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Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker. 
Living in a small studio apartment in the Haight-Ashbury of San Francisco, which he got a damn good price on. 
He works at one of the many vintage record stores in the neighborhood, which pulsates with raw musical energy, almost as if he steps in the 70s every time he gets out of the front door of his apartment building.
Sometimes he just sits on his fire escape to fuck around with his guitar, inspired by the smells of incense coming from the crystal shops, the music coming from the vintage clothing stores and the pungent smell of lingering weed at all hours of the day.
And with the shaggy, long, brown curls, bullet belt and chains, his black cutoff band t- shirts and heavy lace up boots, he seems to fit right in- for the first time in his life. 
Next to his record store there is one of the many crystal shops on the high street, a tiny little nook he always walks by on the way to work and snickers to himself. There’s no way people believe in all that.
He stops doing that once he meets you. 
Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker because he crosses paths with you.
He meets you while he is on his lunch break, using those thirty minutes of peace to walk around and usually pick up some prerolls from the dispensary a couple buildings down, or he lingers in front of the guitar store on the other side of the street, ogling at a B.C. Rich or an Ibanez, spending his break in there, fucking around with a cool amp. 
He meets you on an off day. A day where he doesn't feel like walking around, so he just stands in front of his store smoking a cigarette. You're walking a longtime client out of the crystal shop next door. 
“Thank you for that dried lavender, Janice! I’ll set aside some of that incense for you when we get the shipment” he hears you say. He turns around, snickers at your words while Janice passes in front of him, disappearing in the Saturday afternoon crowd. 
“Something funny?” you ask. Your voice feels smooth like honey wine. He turns around, and suddenly he doesn't feel like snickering anymore.
You look so pretty, the kind of pretty that is almost otherworldly. Like you could’ve come up in his head while planning a DnD campaign. Purple bell sleeve top, a long, black, flowy skirt and lace- up boots. Dressed like his own elven high priestess. 
He realizes he’d been staring at you for a good silent minute. He nervously breaks eye contact to put out his cigarette on the sole of his Docs. 
“Sorry– heh, just don’t really believe in all that stuff” he says, shrugging. In doing that, his evidently too- short shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of the skin of his tummy, which doesn’t go unnoticed to you. 
You lean on the doorframe of the store “What’s your name again?” you ask, a feline smile creeping on your lips. 
He swallows “I um- haven’t told you my- It’s Edward- Eddie!” he corrects himself, you got him flustered “Nobody calls me Edward” he remarks. 
His stammer makes you smile, like he's a wounded puppy dog. 
“Alright Edward Eddie, see you around” and with that you disappear back into the store. 
It takes Eddie a week to learn your name, asking the owner of the crystal shop you work at with no luck, then running into Janice a week later, who kindly tells him your name and then raves about you for a good ten minutes. Quite the hypewoman. 
It takes Eddie another two weeks to ask you out on a date. You're wearing a long mauvish dress under a white cardigan when he sees you walk into the store. Your hair is pulled back from your face and he swears he sees stars in your eyes. 
You say yes and agree to meet at a coffee shop, and by the end of the day, he asks you for a second date. And then a third, and a fourth, and by the arrival of fall, Eddie Munson has a girlfriend.
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Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend.
He even jokes with his friends that his witch girlfriend put a spell on him. Made him drink a love potion, because he can't justify him being so obsessed with you.
Another thing he can't justify is you actually liking him. Sometimes he still needs to pinch himself to make sure it's not all a joke.
A pretty girl that looks like she's straight out of his DnD fantasies is dating him? There's no way shit like that happens to Edward Munson.
Although his apartment is right above the record shop, which means sneaking away for a quickie whenever you guys have matched up work schedules, he loves your apartment.
Twenty minutes away from Haight- Ashbury, in Twin Peaks, there lies your apartment. In an old building from the sixties or seventies, you have it decorated with tapestries and sun- catchers and rugs and pillows and cushions. It's a joy for Eddie's senses.
And with dating you, came Circe, your black cat who seems to have taken an almost immediate liking to Eddie.
Your apartment always smells like incense and candles, a smell you bring with you wherever you go. A smell Eddie loves. There are plants hanging from the ceiling and a big purple couch in the living room.
Everything is antique, lucky finds from thrift stores or flea markets. The table, chairs. The bookcases that hold your witchy books and your crystals.
The first time he comes over he picks one up. A carnelian.
"So, these pretty rocks are supposed to... what?" he asks, toying with every bit and bob on your bookshelf.
"They're crystals, Eddie. And each different one has a purpose. That one you're holding is a carnelian" you say, pouring him a cup of loose- leaf herbal tea, and pointing at the crystal with your nose.
"Okay, and what's it do?" he asks, toying with the smooth surface and going to sit on the ground next to you. He blows on his tea and takes a sip. He isn't a tea enjoyer, but for you he could be.
"Well, a lot of things, but primarily carnelians help boost sexual energy-" you get interrupted by Eddie sputtering out his tea. Some of it lands on you, which causes you to let out a shriek.
The ridiculousness of the situation is both endearing and hilarious. The poor guy probably didn't expect you being so blunt about your use of crystals to aid your sex life.
A giggle escapes you while Eddie tinges a deep shade of crimson from the embarrassment. He shakily sets down the teacup and saucer.
"Shi-shit sorry, lemme help you clean it up" he says, scrambling for the napkins on the coffee table to clean his mess up.
"You got some on me, Eddie" you say as you move your hair from your face to let him clean up the spit- out tea from your cheek.
"Oh my god, sorry lemme get that" he repeats, flushed.
He's shaky in reaching for the napkin to wipe your skin, afraid that he might have ruined his shot at dating you just because he cannot keep his mouth shut.
"It's honestly not a big deal, Ed. It was just funny for the most part" you smile at him, reaching your hand to lay his head on your shoulder. He breathes again.
Once he's calmed down he continues his curious interview.
"So what, do you put it up your pussy or something?" The idea of it makes Eddie's blood run slightly hotter. You laugh.
He blushes at your reaction, feeling slightly embarrassed once he registers what he had just said.
A sheepish "sorry" escapes his lips.
"No, no it's fine" you chuckle "not exactly. You just kinda charge them and set intentions. Then you can take it with you on, like, a date, if you wanna hope for something more" you say. He becomes very aware of his hard- on when you say that.
There is a thick sense of expectation in the air once those words leave your mouth. It could be the thick incense smoke floating around the room, or it could be the way you're looking at him like you want to eat him whole. Your faces get closer.
"I brought one with me today, actually" you admit. And he has never taken his shirt off so fast in his life.
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So every time you hang out, he carries a piece if carnelian in his pocket, in hopes to repeat what happened at your apartment.
With time, he learns to carry a rose quartz with him, too.
Soon after, you begin gifting him crystals and bracelets to carry with him. He likes his black tourmaline beaded bracelet the best.
"It's for protection" you had said. It's just very metal to him.
He never really believes in it, but it's sweet, seeing you show up to his apartment with little colorful rocks to put on his windowsill. You teach him how to recharge them and set intentions, but after the second or third time he just can't be bothered.
He quickly learns it's not just pretty rocks you're interested in. You're, like, a full- fledged witch. Hence, the nickname 'witchy' he'd given you.
You ask him for the time and place of his birth. He scrambles to text his uncle Wayne to ask if he remembers what time he's born.
After a couple days of searching, Wayne comes across Elizabeth Munson's old diary. Indianapolis, Indiana, December 21st, 1997 at 3:47 AM.
Eddie Munson has a birth chart.
Sagittarius sun, Scorpio moon, Aries rising.
Whatever that means.
You try to explain it to him, but to no avail. He doesn't really care much for the stars. Except the ones in your eyes.
He swears he can see them twinkle every time you're laying on your brocade rug in the candle lit living room. He learns you don't really use your couch, rather, you just lay on the floor, among a pile of pillows.
Sometimes you're watching TV together. You're sat in between his legs, leaning against his chest, while Circe lays on your lap. And you look at his palms, tracing the fine lines and ridges of his calloused hands.
"You have lines on the top of your hand" you whisper, kissing his fingers.
He blows the cigarette smoke out the open window, careful not to make your house smell.
"Yeah, no shit. We all have 'em, witchy" he places a kiss to the crown of your head.
"No, look right here" you say, tracing the faint lines right where his callouses are "lines like this means you're gonna have a long life" you kiss that spot on his hand. Coarse, but warm.
"Thank fuck, imagine if i just got hit by a cable car tomorrow?" he chuckles, going back to watching TV.
You trace a deep line that goes across the palm of his hand, you smile to yourself.
"Whatcha smilin' about, witchy?" he says, eyes still glued on the TV.
"You have a double heart line. Means you love a lot" you turn and give him a smile. One of those that make your eyes sparkle in the candlelight.
"If I have a double heart line, does that mean I love you more?" he asks, sickly sweet. He cringes at himself for swearing he wasn't going to be that guy, but when you look at him like he just hung the moon for you, he can allow himself to be disgustingly sappy.
You think about it, because he does have a point, but you don't want to make him win this two- month long game you've been playing, so instead you take his palm once more.
"Look, Ed" you say, pointing at a random prominent line "this line tells me you're an asshole" you laugh, as he pinches your sides and you try to squirm away, but his hands are holding you firmly while planting sloppy kisses everywhere he could reach.
Cheek, neck, shoulder. He inhales the curve between your neck and shoulder, and you swear your feel a bit of tongue poke out between his lips. Then he stops.
And you feel it. Deeply seated at the bottom of your back, pressing against the exposed skin between your shirt and pants.
Eddie loves the way you smell, intoxicated by the smell of lavender incense and some kind of berry perfume you wear.
He's convinced that perfume is actually just a pheromone concentrate, because he cannot stop the blood rushing to his dick everytime he catches a whiff of the sweet berries, nestled in the crook of your neck, behind your ear.
"And where's the line that tells me I'm gonna get a kiss?" Eddie asks, voice low and gravelly, a voice that fills you with need, makes your breath falter from your lungs, replacing it with water. But you kiss him nonetheless, and maybe him getting a kiss is written in the stars, after all.
He softly grabs your hair as he slips his tongue in your mouth. Honey- wine whimpers falling from your lips, as you try and get Circe off your lap and in literally any other room. The cat seems to be unbothered.
"Ed... she doesn't want to move" you whine, high pitched voice expressing annoyance, but also overwhelmed at how cute your cat is.
"She's the biggest cockblocker in history" he mutters annoyed, you laugh. A groan leaves his mouth.
"Leave her alone she's just a baby! Us having sex tonight just wasn't in the stars" you shrug, light and airy as you go back to leaning on his chest and petting Circe.
Fuck the stars. He huffs, accepting his fate
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He waits for you outside of the shop when he's not working. Guitar case slung around his shoulders, so he can practice at yours, he picks you up and you take the train to your apartment.
"How was work today, witchy?" he asks, roping a hand around your shoulders and giving you a tender kiss on your head.
"Meh, a. bunch of wannabe Tiktok witches, a bunch of old ladies booking tarot readings and threatening to leave bad reviews because I told them their husband is cheating on them or something" you shrug getting on the bus "Janice came, though, she brought me some jasmine flowers so I can make love tea" you say, sitting down. He sits next to you.
You take out the small satchel of dried jasmine flowers, taking in the sweet scent of citrusy flowers.
"Love tea?" he asks "that what you give me when I come over to your apartment every time?" he dips his nose in the satchel, giving it a sniff.
"Yeah, you wish" you laugh "just peppermint tea. Don't want you accusing me I put a love spell on you" Eddie smiles and lays your head on his shoulder while you play with the tassels of your bag, letting you close your eyes for the twenty minutes of the train ride.
Once you're home he slings the guitar case off his shoulders and takes it out, sitting at the stools of your breakfast counter, while you empty the contents of your bag.
Herbs, oils and a new card deck.
"So, what do you need to do now?" he asks, pulling out his phone, looking for guitar tabs to practice on.
"'kay, so" you begin "I need to make tea blend, then putting stuff together for this new project I'm working on, and then break out this new deck I got from work" you say, lost in the mysticism of your to- do list.
Sometimes he finds it funny that the stuff you have to worry about is totally otherworldly to what he usually worries about.
He watches you break out the mortar and pestle while you measure a teaspoon of dried rosebuds, a teaspoon of dried lavender buds, a teaspoon of jasmine and a pinch of cinnamon. He mindlessly plays a couple chords from a song he heard at the record shop.
"What's the cinnamon for?" he asks, pointing at the jar.
"Spicing things up? Cinnamon is a spice, so could be. I'm trying out this new recipe" you say, grinding the flowers together.
"So what you're saying" he begins, looking up from his guitar "is that you're making sex tea" and the feline grin plastered on your face is enough to make you wanna smack him in the head.
"This is not sex tea, Edward" you interject sternly while pouring the contents of the mortar in a new jar.
You light an incense stick, a rose infused one, to set your intentions for this batch, then putting it to rest on your windowsill for the night.
"What are you doing, witchy?" he asks, following your gaze as you set down the jar.
"It's for the moon. Charges the tea" you say, nonchalantly "can you pass me that deck on the counter, please?" you sit on the carpet legs crossed, while Eddie reaches for the card deck and tosses it at you. You catch it.
He sets down his guitar against the counter to goes to stand in front of you as you take the tarot cards out of the deck and start shuffling them.
"What's that baby?" he asks, he swears he can never stop learning from you.
"My new tarot deck, I need to break it out. Want me to give you a reading?" you ask, hoping he'll say yes.
He truly thinks about it, because he doesn't believe in any of this stuff, but saying no to you and watching your eyes darken with sadness is something he doesn't want to put himself through.
He is a weak, weak man.
He shrugs. "Alright then" he says, sitting down on one of the cushy pink pillows on the floor of your apartment "gimme a reading, you little witch"
Your ringed hands shuffle the gold filigree cards.
"I'm gonna do a regular spread, 'kay? Just past, present, future" you look at him, and he swears he sees your eyes twinkling again in the light of the glass lamp on the side table.
You fan out the cards on the carpet and let him pick three cards.
He's reluctant about this, all he really wants is to cook dinner together and spend the evening with you.
You spread the three cards out and unveil the first one.
"Okay, so that's The Empress. Means you have a significant female figure in your life. It usually represents feminine beauty, abundance" you say, explaining it to him.
"You got some abundance, alright" he huffs a laugh, quickly silenced by a deathly stare. You didn't like it when he made fun of what you liked. You roll your eyes at him.
"Sorry, witchy. Keep going" he smiles, like he's about to crack another joke.
"Yeah, okay." you flip the middle card "what luck. You got the lovers" you say, unenthusiastically.
Eddie's eyes light up at the possibility of a joke "Is that the card that tells me I'm getting some sick pussy in the next five minutes?" he asks, his tone makes you want to throw the empty box of cards at his head.
"It looks like you're not taking it seriously, so what's the point" you go to stand up, but he stops you.
"Sorry, baby, please don't leave. I'm enjoying this, Sorry, I won't make any more jokes, I promise" he pleads, and a wicked idea sparks in your head. He sounds really pretty when he begs.
You let out an annoyed groan as you sit back down and you unveil the last card, his future.
Ace of wands. Sex really was in his cards tonight.
"What's that, baby?" he asks.
"Ace of wands. Looks like you're gonna get some 'sick pussy' after all, Munson. Lie down." You command.
He flushes red. "Huh?" you reach under your long skirt to remove your panties.
"I said lie down, I'm giving you what the cards said" you stare at him, expectation in your eyes as he lays down on the brocade carpet, unsure if he should feel afraid or like the luckiest motherfucker alive.
"Better put in the work, pretty boy" you say, crawling on top of him, he looks at you, eyes blown as you lift your skirt, climbing the length of his body. You reach a resting place right on top of his mouth.
It takes him a second to register that you're sitting on his face, and his tongue darts out of his open mouth, to shyly have a taste.
"C'mon now, Eddie, where is the passion? You seemed really passionate about cracking jokes earlier, didn't you?" you cooed, holding up your shirt to look at his eyes, twinkling and darkened as his tongue begins to lap up the length of your pussy.
He gets the hang of it as your hips begin to grind on his face, his tongue darting in and out of your hole as his nose bumps deliciously against your clit.
"Mmm fuck" you gasp as you raise your hips to let him breathe, but he just pulls you down harder. A gasp escapes your mouth as the sound of your moans and Eddie's slurping fills the room.
Even he hears it, because you can see his eyes roll to the back of his head as a resounding hum escapes his lips, vibrating against you, wet and sensitive.
A whine leaves your mouth as you begin to get more desperate, grabbing a handful of his hair, grinding your hips harder against his tongue.
"Doing so good for me, Ed." you say in a feeble attempt to keep the reins controlled, but his tongue works magic on you, making your brain turn to mush.
"There you go don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop" you command, and his tongue flicks against your clit, catching it between his teeth to begin to suck at it.
A mewl leaves your lips, feeling the familiar warmth in your belly begin to form as you pull harder on his hair, moans becoming more high pitched and strained as Eddie makes quick work of his tongue on you.
"'mgonna cum on your face, you want that?" you ask, a rhetorical question, because of course he wants you to gush all over him.
And so you do. You come with a silent scream, riding the orgasm out with the last few snaps of your hips, as your breathing stills and your vision goes white.
Eddie's also panting like a dog under you, aching in his pants for you to make him cum.
You get off his mouth, his chin coated with your fluids as he gathers them on his fingers and sticks them in his mouth. You can't help but mutter a "good boy" as you reach for the belt of his pants.
"Sit up" you command, as he goes to straighten his back and lean against your purple couch.
You take off his shirt "I'm gonna ride you, yeah?" he looks at you like you've just discovered that aliens are real.
"God, yes please, please" he says, looking up at you as you unzip your top off, and you swear his eyes grow bigger at the sight of your chest, your bra still on. A longing sigh leaves his mouth.
You unbutton his jeans and lower them to his mid thigh along with his boxers as his cock slaps against his tummy. He hisses at the feeling as he watches you align yourself on top of it.
"You want it, Ed?" you question, an aura of cool, calm control exuding from you.
He whines. "Please, I want it so bad. Please put it in" he begs, and you've never realized how pretty his voice sounded when begging. Whiny and high pitched, nasal, almost as if he were about to cry. A prayer for you to fulfill him, make him whole.
Like he is nothing without you.
Is that what it felt like for him to see you crying on his cock every night? A rush of power washes over you, as you motion to sink down on him, but quickly going back up.
He lets out a whiny cry, a bratty child without his candy.
"Uh- huh. Beg me to fuck you, Ed" you say. You swear you can feel him shiver, his cock jumping from underneath your skirt.
"F-fuck, please. Please fuck me. Please my love, my witch, my high priestess" he rambles, your hand creeps up his thick neck, wrapping around it "fuck mmm please, I'll do anything. I'll give you everything" a frenzied speech, his words speed up at the feeling of your nails scratching the skin of his neck.
He'd let you sacrifice him to the devil if you asked him.
Feeling his pulse point with your nails as you begin to squeeze the sides of it, a needy gasp escapes the pretty boy's mouth.
Flushed a pretty red, sweat clinging to the base of his neck and forehead, hair curling and sticking to his feverish skin as you begin to sink down on him.
Inch by inch, slowly feeling him fill you up, as a quiet "oh" escapes you once you've taken all of him.
His breath is quick and labored, quiet pleas rolling out of the sweetness of his tongue, where the taste of you lingers. The love potion you'd been administering him all along.
Eddie Munson is not a religious guy, but if he needs to pray to his goddess to get you to fuck him he'll do it.
But you start moving. A slow, feline movement of your back, almost as if you and Circe were the same creature, a shapeshifter from another world. A goddess, an empress of his body and mind. He was wrapped around your finger.
Your hands tighten around his neck as you grind yourself down on him, he whimpers.
"Mmmm, so big" you mutter against his ear, biting his lobe. And everything you do makes him whine and buck himself deeper inside you, hitting the spongy walls deep inside you, needing more of you. Needing you to swallow him whole.
And you comply, raising your hips and lowering them, bouncing yourself on him as if you were only using him to chase your own pleasure. The thought of it makes Eddie shiver and moan, a strangled sound coming out of his constricted throat.
He hopes your hand leaves a mark on his neck, so people know he's yours. So people know that the witch next door spelled him and he is now in love with her. He never wants to get away from her.
"You- you're so good" he whispers, hips rising and falling on his cock, head lolling as you feel yourself get close again.
"Yeah, baby? Thank me, then. Thank your goddess for making you feel so good" you command, and his hands travel through every inch of your body, feeling every ridge and crease and bump. Wanting to feel you, wanting to worship you.
"F-fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you." a prayer to his goddess, for making him feel so good. "Please more, I- I'm so-"
"You're close aren't you?" you coo, cradling the back of his head with your free hand. Making him look at you.
"'M so close, please let me let me let me please" he begins to chant, too far gone from the feeling of your nails digging on the sides of his neck, scratching his sweaty scalp, tongue tracing the outline of his lips as quick and labored breaths escape him.
"C'mon, cum for me" you whisper in his ear, letting go of his neck and latching your lips onto him, leaving a few purple bruises on his milky skin.
You feel him spill inside you with a whine, shivering, while you ride him for all he is, chasing your own release.
You follow him soon after, biting down on his shoulder. The taste of his sweaty skin lingering on your tongue.
You stay clung to him for a few minutes after, quiet and panting as he revels in the post- orgasmic feeling you've just given him.
"Never thought I would've been the submissive type" he huffs out with a laugh as you climb off of him.
"Well, you're welcome. Gonna go have a milk bath, be right back" you stand, reveling in the feeling of his spent spilling out of you.
He hears the shower turn on and as he's getting dressed, Circe comes to nuzzle on his lap.
He raises an eyebrow.
Where has she been the whole time? The rooms of your apartment were all open when you got back. She was probably just taking a nap in your bed.
He shrugs as he delivers a couple pets to her head.
Meanwhile in the bathroom, a spell book is suspended mid air as you look a spell to get rid of a hickey that Eddie had left on your neck.
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mini taglist: @strangerstilinski, @stuckonthefiction, @elegantkoalapaper, @gravedigginbbydoll, @eddiesxangel, @reidsbtch, @bangaveragewhitewine, @chaoticharrington, @hideoutside, @monstxrteeth, @the-local-pendeja, @thornsnvultures, @strangerfreaks, @unverifiedmeatsuit, @strangerfreaks, @starlitlakes, @thebejeweledwatercat, @aphrogeneias, @chrrymunson, @amira0303, @paradise-summertime, @onegirlmanytales, @piecsesrising, @feralamdtiredrat, @m0llygunn , @angel-upon, @lavendermunson, @cowboylikemunson
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dominicfikue · 15 days
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first time with chris but yall are high affffffff 😭😭😭 yall are giggling and moaning and it’s just so cute but it also feels so good LMFAO
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𝐨𝐨𝐨. 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐒! ┆ featuring christopher sturniolo.
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pairing. experienced!chris x virgin!reader. — wc: 1.4k
beware of. SMUT! oral ( f!receiving ). mentions of hickies. unprotected sex. floor sex 😭. super duper fluffy. use of weed. reader’s first time— chris talks reader through it(?)
✶ ׅ ࣪ headline. it’s hard to keep focus when you & chris are high out of your minds.
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♡ # 𓂃 after him being away for three weeks in boston, you & chris finally get to see each other. you both lay on the soft pink carpet that adorns your bedroom floor, chris listening as you describe how disgustingly rude your uber driver was the other day.
“—then he kept slamming on his breaks hella hard.. on purpose! i swear, it was the worst 40 minutes of my life.” you sigh, getting worked up as you explain the mans sour mood to your boyfriend. chris’ expression instantly turns into a frown, not seeing how anyone could be so mean to an angel like you.
“bro sounds like the most miserable man in the world. you don’t deserve shit like that, mama.” he comforts, leaning forward and placing a kiss on your forehead. you nod as you sit up criss-cross applesauce. “i just wish i had something to distract me, y’know?” you sigh. you look up at chris to see a bright smile on his face.
you narrow your eyes at the boy, certain he had one of many tricks up his sleeve. he suddenly gets up from his spot on the floor to walk over to the overnight bag he had on your nightstand. “luckily for you…” he pauses as he rummages through the duffel. “i’ve got just the trick. here she is.” he says, taking out a perfectly rolled joint, giving it a quick peck before putting it in between his lips.
you’ve dabbled in the drug maybe once or twice— either with your friends or chris but never alone. you definitely weren’t a stoner but you would never turn it down if someone offered.
“you’ll forget all about that loser after we smoke. trust me.” chris assures you as he grabs your candle lighter and holds it up to the joint, sparking up. he takes the first hit, inhaling the drug before pulling it away and passing it to you. you copy his actions, your body immediately relaxing as you lay back down.
chris returns to the floor, his warm body laying next to yours this time. you turn over to look at him to see him already staring at you. the two of you immediately start giggling, knowing this was going to be the best high ever.
it’s been 30 minutes, you guys smoked about half of it before putting it out. nothing but giggles and talks of nonsense has been thrown around the room as your highs increase. you decided to turn on some music so superpowers by daniel caesar plays softly from the tv.
your head lays against chris’ chest, listening to his heartbeat and the sound of his voice as he speaks. “you feel better?” he questions, rubbing your back soothingly. you smile up at him and giggle. “way better. thank you, baby.” you thank him, leaning up and kissing his lips. the kiss that was supposed to be slow and sensual soon turns into something more heated and sloppy. full of tongue and spit.
when he pulls away, his eyes scan your features, taking you in. “c-can i try somethin’?” he asks, slightly stumbling over his words. your eyebrows furrow but nonetheless, you agree, nodding your head to give him the green light. theres a twinkle in his eyes as he situates himself in between your legs. he soon leans back in, connecting his lips with your neck.
he bites down on the skin before running his tongue over the now wound. the whimpers leaving your mouth quickly mix into soft laughter as he continues marking your neck and chest with hickies.
chris sits up for a moment to pull your tank top above your head, grateful that you decided not to wear a bra. his lips quickly latch onto one of your nipples while his hand massaged the other. “feels so, so good. oh my god!” you yelp when you feel him bite down on the bud. you slap his arm as you both get caught in a fit of giggles.
he tries to fight through his giddiness as he kisses down the valley of your boobs & your stomach before reaching just above the spot you needed him most. chris pulls your shorts off incredibly slow as he remains eye contact with you. you let out a whine as you throw your head back, clearly not a fan of his teasing.
“patience, mama. patience.” he whispers against your pantie-covered core. he tugs at the waistband, letting the lacy material snap back against your skin. a chuckle escapes your throat, the stinging feeling starting to tickle you.
chris pulls your underwear down, instantly diving into his meal. his tongue darts in every way imaginable, your moans doing nothing but spurring the boy on. he brings his middle finger up to trace your entrance before sliding it in, adding on to pleasure. the light stubble on his face grazes against your thighs causing your moans turn into with laughter. you can feel his infamous smile on his lips as they wrap around your clit.
he suddenly adds a second finger, speeding up the pace as your back arches up off the ground. he gives the pearl one last kiss before resting his cheek against your thigh, his bloodshot eyes focused on you. his fingers continue their brutal movements as he speaks.
“c’mon, baby. let go for me.. let it all out.” chris mumbles against your skin, feeling your tight walls clench him. his words seem to work as your legs begin to shake, pornagraphic whimpers leaving you when your orgasm washes over. he dives back in, licking up all everything you had to offer. your thighs try & close around his head, still being extremely sensitive. “o-okay! chris!” you yelp.
when he finally comes up for air, his lips are plump and wet— glistening in your juices. he immediately places a kiss on your lips causing you to taste yourself on his lips. “tastes good, don’t you?” he asks between kisses, giggles spewing out from the both of you. your freshly done acrylics weave their way down his chest to the very evident bulge in his sweats, palming him through the material.
a low groan leaves his lips before he reconnects them with yours. “i’m ready.” you whisper against him. he looks into your eyes for any sign of doubt or nervousness, only to find none. “you sure?” he questions, knowing this would be a big step for you. you nod with an assuring smile before pulling him back in for a sloppy kiss.
he shimmies out of his pants & boxers without disconnecting your lips, his dick grazing against the inside of your thigh. your fingers find his hair, tugging on his curls as he spreads your legs farther.
chris backs away slightly, looking down to where your bodies were soon to be connected. he pumps himself lazily, squeezing at the base before running his length through your wet folds, using your arousal as a lube. a throaty moan leaves your mouth at the sensation, your high enhancing the feeling. after a moment of teasing, he finally slides in— staying still so you can adjust to his size.
once you give him the go ahead, he begins moving at a slow pace. chris’ head dips down into the crook of your neck, burying his soft whimpers into your skin. “faster.. please.” you whisper as your nails harshly claw at his back covered by the black muscle tee.
he quickly complies, rocking his hips into yours with no mercy. “doing so good for me, angel. f-fuck. if you keep that up, i’m n-not gonna last long.” he grumbles, referring to the way your walls clenched around him tightly. you can’t do anything but moan & whine, the feeling completely fogging up your brain.
you soon feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter but before you can warn him, chris reaches down in between you two, his slender fingers landing on your clit. a borderline scream escapes your throat as the pleasure takes over.
“m’gonna cum!” you manage to squeak out, his pace not letting up at all. open mouthed kisses are placed on your neck, only adding onto this euphoric feeling. “there ya go.. my sweet girl.” he whimpers as you release all over his cock. it seems the brunette isn’t to far behind you, his thrusts becoming sloppy. you’re all delirious and dizzy that the overstimulation doesn’t even register.
with one last thrust, chris releases his seed inside your cunt, broken moans falling left & right. he finally looks up to see you all fucked out, a goofy grin taking over his features. “fucking beautiful.” he giggles, his lips connecting with yours.
if this is where smoking weed got you, being a stoner didn’t sound too bad.
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solai speaks! — long n awaited chris fic can we say amen!!!!!! im exhausted like you have no clue ugh. surfer!chris blurbs coming soon so keep a eye out <3.
taglist. @fawnchives @prettyvyll @trickywritters @breeloveschris @lorarri @gnxosblog @firexovni @tylerstacobell @ivonchetooo1239 @bernardsgf @dracoflaco @strniolo @paibey @hearts4chriss @sturniololo @rootbeerworshiper @tillies33ssss @katluckybear @realuvrrr @junnniiieee07 @ireadstoriss @summerssover
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euphemiaamillais · 3 months
Text
dealer — coriolanus snow
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you can’t help it, but your dealer, snow, is just so hot. and when you’re buying weed from him, you can’t resist offering him an alternative form of payment…
cw: 18+//weed-smoking//handjobs//fingering (f. receiving)//dealer!coryo
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it was embarrassing, really, how hot you found your dealer. of course, he’d really been your friend’s dealer first, before you met him you’d never even tried weed before, but when you found out he was hot—pretty much perpetually shirtless, toned, with a blonde buzzcut and icy blue eyes—you started saying you smoked just to have an excuse to see him.
you had come to see him today to pick up, but you’d put extra effort into your appearance. a little bit of eyeshadow and mascara; not too much to be noticeable, but enough that it brought out your best features. you’d also made sure to wear your shortest skirt, and was planning on ‘accidentally’ dropping something so you’d have to bend over and show him your lacy thong.
so here you are, sitting on the couch with him, his arm resting behind your shoulders. close enough to touch you, but not enough that it seemed purposeful. he moves his arm away for a moment, reaching forward and beginning to grab the skins and weed to roll a blunt.
you never smoked a lot when you were with him, saying you had to drive home or you had to work afterwards, but really it was because you’d never had more than a few puffs. you ended up giving most of the weed to your friends. it was becoming a little obvious now, but he had. never called you out on it, yet.
you watch him lick the paper, his nimble fingers rolling it up firmly. he’s done it thousands of times, and as you gaze at him, you feel your heart flutter. there’s something so attractive about the way his biceps flex, and how his tongue darts out just so. you feel your core burning, and your hand tenses around the arm of the couch.
‘there you go, princess,’ he says with a smile, handing you the perfect rolled blunt.
he reaches for his lighter, and as you hold the blunt to your glossy lips, he lights you up. your cheeks redden as his pinky brushes against your chin, ever-so-slightly. you take a small drag, the blunt wedged between your middle and forefinger.
‘thanks,’ you say with a slight cough. you’ve never been very well-practised at smoking, but he doesn’t tease you for it.
he takes a hit himself, his expert lips sucking in a heavy drag, and you wonder what that mouth would feel like against your own. you shift a little in your seat, foot tapping nervously. the first drag of weed doesn’t seem to calm you, so when he hands it back to you, you take a longer drag.
your head spins slightly, and you see him smiling at you through the haze the puff has induced. when that fades, he’s still smiling, and he seems to have moved several inches closer to you.
‘you look nice today, princess,’ he murmurs, taking the blunt from you and taking another hit.
‘thanks, snow,’ you blush, eyes flickering down to your thighs. you can’t help but realise how bear they are, how your skirt has crept up so high that you can make out the pink lace fabric of your panties.
‘you always look nice though,’ he strokes your cheek, hand surprisingly cold. you’d always thought he was warm, judging by the fact that he was either in a white tank top or a shirtless. ‘but today… something’s different.’
‘well, i am wearing makeup,’ you admit shyly, and he chuckles.
his icy eyes flicker down to your legs, the way they’ve curled up, and when you move your knees absentmindedly, he can’t help but spy your panties. a breath catches in his throat, and he moves his gaze back to yours, not wanting to seem like he was perving on you. he can’t get the image out of his mind though, the way he could see the outline of your folds through the sheer lace fabric.
but he can’t. you’re so innocent and sweet. and he’s… well, he’s caught up in a world he doesn’t want to involve you in. you are so pretty though, and always pay him properly, and you have perfect manners. he wishes half the girls that bought from him were as kind as you. of course, you’re special. he always gives you discounts, the special treatment. not that he’d ever tell you, of course. but you’ve never questioned that he gives you 5 grams for only twenty bucks when the going rate is fifty.
you catch the way his eyes dance with want, and maybe it’s the weed that’s given you a newfound self-confidence, or perhaps you’re just taking the chance, but you find yourself speaking before you can even think it through.
‘can i pay you a different way, today?’ you bite your lip, and are returned with a cocked brow.
‘you not have cash today, princess?’ he asks, a little bit frustrated. it’s so complicated when he has to take card, and god forbid the bank asks him where his money is coming from.
you tilt your head to the side, trying not to be too obvious, but he catches a glimmer of desire in your eyes. you lean in closer to him, breath pressing against his cheek. your lips are curved up delicately.
‘i mean, i do, but,’ you pause for a moment, and his mouth draws into a thin line of understanding. ‘i wanted to pay you another way…’
you run your hand up his thigh, feeling the hard muscles under his pants, and watch as he lets out a heavy sigh. he can’t help but begin to harden as your hand inches closer to his cock. he didn’t think you wanted him like he did you, but of course, it makes sense now. the way you had put in extra effort today, how you’d sat in a manner that revealed your panties.
‘you don’t have to, princess,’ he murmurs, and you shake your head, adamant.
‘but i want to… if it’s okay with you, of course,’ your brows arch innocently.
he nods, groaning as you palm his bulge. he can’t believe that you, with your innocent, sweet face, are touching him like this. it feels wrong, but he’s hard in an instant, cock aching as you caress him.
‘fuck, princess,’ he grunts, unable to stop himself from bucking into your palm.
your nimble fingers move to unzip his jeans, and when you slide down his boxers too, your mouth waters at the sight. his cock is pressing against his stomach, and god, it’s so, so big. it’s a little bit daunting, really. you thumb the tip of his cock, earning another groan from his lips.
‘can i?’ you inquire, moving your hand away and bringing it just below your mouth in order to cup your palm.
‘course, not going to complain if you wanna jerk me off,’ he half-laughs, settling further back into the couch.
you spit in your palm, and take your hand right against his cock, stroking him up and down. you give him a smile, but his eyes have fluttered shut, and his lips have stretched around a moan. he can’t believe how good it feels, and perhaps it’s because he’s been dreaming of it at times, but the way you squeeze him, and bring your thumb back over his tip drives him wild.
‘fuck,’ he sighs, a little in disbelief that you’re so good at this.
you continue to stroke him as he grinds into your palm, and as you see him grow with more desire, you use your free hand to pump the base, because he’s just that big. you clench your thighs together, heat pooling at your thighs as you jerk him off.
‘you’re so big,’ you blush, continuing pump your hand at the base of his cock while you squeeze the tip with your other.
he laughs a little, but is cut off by a low moan as you squeeze him between your palm. he doesn’t know how much more he can take, though your face is gazing so innocently at him, your hands are stroking him with filthy intentions; and it feels so good. he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and your cheeks burn with a soft flush, feeling giddy but also swamped with want.
‘fuck, princess, think i’m gonna cum,’ he grunts, rutting into your hand.
he gives a few more thrusts, and when you swipe your thumb over the leaking head of his cock again, hot spurts come out onto your hand. his breath hitches, and you let out a soft giggle as your hand becomes sticky with his cum.
you offer him a sweet smile as you lick the cum off your hand, and he can’t help but sigh at the sight of you licking up every last drop of him. it’s so erotic, and the fact that you’re gazing at him with wide, innocent eyes puts a stark contrast to what you’re doing. he continues to watch you as he pulls his boxers and pants back up.
‘i hope you liked it,’ you wiggle closer to him, and press a kiss to his cheek.
‘course i did,’ he wraps an arm around your waist, and draws you flush against him.
your lashes flutter in such proximity to him, and he swears he can hear the pitter patter of your heart. he wants to thank you too, make you come and make sweet noises for him. he presses his lips against your jaw, and trails kisses across it, watching as you arch your neck for him.
‘snow…’ you push him away, heat flooding to your cheeks.
he furrows his brow, a look of slight distress crossing his features. has he pushed too far? you’re embarrassed with the way he’s touching you, anxious that he feels obliged to be all sweet and handsy now because you gave him a handjob. not that you’d mind him manhandling you, but you want it to be genuine.
‘hey, princess, i’m sorry if—’ you cut him off, shaking your head, a small smile creeps upon your lips.
‘no, you didn’t do anything,’ you sigh. ‘it’s just, i want you to know that i really like you. and i don’t want you to feel like you have to be nice to me just because i have you a handjob.’
you fidget restlessly with your hands, thumbs twiddling as you search his face for a reaction, a response. he’s never gotten angry at you before, but part of you fears that you’ve pushed him over the edge, perhaps that your words have been an insult to his pride.
‘how could i not be sweet to you? you’re my girl, yeah?’ he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.
you lean against his form, head nestling against his neck. he’s still so cold, but part of you finds that comforting, his cool fingers pressing against the warm skin of your upper arm, trailing down your back…
‘i wanna be your girl, for real,’ you admit bashfully. you gaze up at him, sweet eyes brimming with earnestness. his heart breaks at how innocent you are. ‘you know i only started smoking so i had an excuse to see you.’
he laughs, casting a knowing look at you. he thumbs the smooth skin of your cheek, which is rosy with the slight embarrassment of your confession. he wants to make you his, but there’s so much risk, for you, of course. you’re too sweet, a saccharine smile, god, you’ve not even tried anything else like coke or ecstasy. you could get in a lot of trouble, being his girl. part of him regrets calling you that, but how can he resist temptation when aphrodite is presenting herself to him right before his eyes?
‘i knew you weren’t really a stoner, princess,’ he flashes his pearly whites. ‘too sweet to be smoking that much anyways. ‘n besides, if i thought you were gonna be smoking it i wouldn’t have sold it to you.’
your chest heaves a sigh, and you give an embarrassed show of sheepishness, lips pursing together as you attempt to smear what’s left of the gloss around.
‘but hey,’ he casts an earnest look, blue eyes brimming with sweetness that’s so uncharacteristic for him—not when he’s with you, of course. ‘i’m trouble, princess. don’t want it to end up with you getting hurt.’
‘snow, i’m a big girl, i can handle it,’ you state, though your voice trembles like that of a small child.
you are afraid, truth be told, but the want you feel for him outweighs everything. you don’t care if he has a gun or about the fact that he makes his money selling weed, coke, e. you want him, you want to wrap your pretty lips around his cock, to please him in any way imaginable. your heart flutters everytime he touches you, or calls you princess.
the way he gazes at you reminds you of just how wet you are, panties wet with your desire, and you find your hand snaking between your legs when you think he’s not looking. you rub your clit gently, lips quivering around a soft moan, but snow is onto you.
‘you all wet for me, huh?’ he asks, one brow cocked. his voice is laced with desire, throat feeling a little thick as he attempts to be suave. for some reason, you’re making him, a tough, calloused guy, nervous. he’s got butterflies in his stomach.
‘uh huh,’ you mewl, spreading your legs as you lean back against the couch.
fuck, he could just eat you up. a sweet treat, wrapped up in a pretty bow, just for him. he groans, watching as a finger slips past your panties and into your tight hole. he watches as your finger, which is delicate and slim, struggles to penetrate your cunt. god, he could imagine how much you’d whine as he stretched you out with his big cock.
‘come on, princess, let me do that for you,’ he pleads, placing one hand on your thigh while the other wedges between them.
he moves your hand away, and loops his fingers round the waistband of your panties, tugging them down until your cunt is before him. he catches his breath when he looks at you, the way your folds are glistening, just for him.
he teases one finger through the folds, groaning as he feels your slickness coat his fingers. it’s unbelievable how wet you are, and he’s barely touched you. you let out a low whine, bucking your hips towards his fingers. you’re aching for touch, for him to slip himself inside of you.
‘please, don’t tease me,’ you pout, and snow offers a gentle laugh.
taking your word, though, he slides one finger inside, sighing as your tight walls stretch around him. he wonders just how tight you’ll feel if he buried his cock inside of you, going deeper, and deeper, seeing how much you could take. you gasp, but urge him to put another in, your lips trembling with wanton desire.
‘so fuckin’ tight, princess,’ he shakes his head in disbelief.
he slips a second finger in, and a whimper escapes your mouth, hand stretching out to clutch at his arm. seeing you squirming from his touch, still desperate for more, to ease the ache in your lower belly, he brushes his thumb against your clit.
‘mhm, god,’ you moan, head rolling back against the arm of the couch.
‘you like that, yeah?’ he goads, rubbing your sensitive nub in circles, watching your toes curl up in satisfaction.
you give a lazy nod, bucking your hips against his hand, arching your back as his fingers curl up inside your cunt. the sweet squelching sound of your slick against his fingers can be heard along with the pretty tones of your moaning and grunting. he feels himself harden again, mind dancing with visions of bending you over and watching his cock drive in and out of your tight cunt.
‘feels so good,’ you mewl, feeling your cunt throb with each stroke of his thumb.
‘can’t wait to fill you up, princess,’ he groans, the sound of your pleasure egging him to be forward.
the way his smooth voice caresses your ear makes the pit of your stomach fill with warmth, and plead with him to push his fingers deeper. you’re so close, you can feel yourself coming undone against his fingers, chasing your release.
‘want you to—’ you’re cut off by your own gasp, and your slickness coating snow’s fingers.
‘fuck, coming all for me,’ he grunts, rubbing at your clit as you continue to finish around him, whining a little from overstimulation.
when he slides his fingers out of your cunt, they're glistening. he sucks at your juices, eyes fluttering shut as he licks the sweetness off his fingers. you're completely fucked-out before him, body splayed out, legs spread. he wanted nothing more than to take you right then and there, but he had to practise patience, after all, watching you unfurl around his fingers was beautiful—like an ancient, lost art form.
'thank you, snow,' you very innocently press a kiss to his cheek, and when you pull away he thinks he catches the glistening of tears in your eyes.
he draws you back in against him, lips pressing desperately against yours. he hungers for you, tongue slipping into your mouth, the sweetness of your juices on his tongue mixing with your own saliva. you grasp at his back as your lips press hotly against his own, your tongues meeting every so often. you can feel his boner pressing into you, but you want to save that for next time; make sure it's memorable.
when you two pull apart, both your cheeks are flushed, and you are greeted with that uncharacteristic kindness in his eyes that he only has for you. his eagerness, and also his earnestness, suggests to you that perhaps this isn't going to be a one-time thing.
after all, now you don't need some exaggerated weed-dependency as an excuse to see him.
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hazyhae · 3 months
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rose bud | jjh
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stoner!fuckboy!jaehyun x fem!reader
summary: friday nights are party nights, and it's here that your feet always seem to lead you to your favorite stoner. you know the sweet words that leave jaehyun's mouth don't belong just to you, but something about him leaves you wanting more.
wc: ~9.2k 18+ mdni
cw: angst, eventual fluff, weed/alcohol use, sexual activity under the influence, multiple orgasms, fingering, protected pinv sex, nipple play, baby + pretty + angel as petnames, jaehyun calls reader "my girl" once, different positions, misunderstandings, jealousy, a lot of cursing, oral (receiving), reader borrows clothes from members, explicit sex descriptions, pining, jungwoo getting caught in the middle of everything
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
you walk into the dimly lit house, music blaring through the speakers and deafening chatter ringing through your ears as your eyes scan for your target.
a vaguely familiar face pulls you to the side to take a shot, which you gladly join in for, but you leave it at one as you continue on. you’d so much rather be mind numbingly high than drunk, and there was one person you knew to go to for just that.
you make your way further into the house, eyes landing on a corner of the living room when you see him - the backwards hat nestled on top of dark hair and dimples you could spot from a mile away.
you scan his surroundings, relieved that his only company is johnny, a friend you know well. johnny’s eyes meet yours and crinkle in recognition.
“__!” he calls, beckoning you to come closer. johnny gives you a quick hug before excusing himself, leaving you with the one you had been wanting to see.
“jae,” you smile, holding your index finger and thumb up to your lips. “you know what i’m here for.”
he rolls his eyes playfully. “whatever happened to hi jaehyun, how are you?”
you laugh and take the seat next to him on the loveseat he’s currently occupying.
“hi, jaehyun how are you, do you have my weed?” you bat your eyelashes at him.
“that depends, pretty, are you gonna let me be the luckiest man in the world tonight?” he mirrors you, putting on your same innocent look while batting his eyelashes.
you lightly smack his arm while he throws his head back to let out a deep, hearty laugh. he pulls his pen out of his pocket and hands it to you.
“hold onto this for now baby, left the j’s in my car. meet me outside in 10?” you nod, taking a long hit from his pen as you watch him disappear into the crowd.
how long has it been now since you’ve had this routine with him? you think back to the very first time you met the man at one of these parties, the only setting you really get to see him in.
at a party many months prior, you decided that your energy for getting wasted wasn’t as good as it used to be, instead opting for a chiller alternative - getting high. your best friend of many years, mark, had started this connection.
“…i’ve got bad news, dude.” you were one drink in and itching to smoke, but a look of panic in mark’s eyes after fumbling through his pockets told you all you needed to know.
“mark, really?? i knew i should have just grabbed them myself..” mark had left the joints he rolled at his place, where you two had pregamed before the party. luckily for you, he also had a solution.
“dude, i know a guy who’s always got weed on him. trust,” he assured you, leading you to the porch out front where you saw a few people gathered. you could already smell the pungent scent of weed coming from the huddle, and you trusted that mark knew what he was doing.
“thought i saw you out here jae, could we join y’all for a bit?” mark asked after dapping up the one you assumed was “jae.”
“i mean i guess, only cause it’s you, mark,” the man said, turning his sights to you. “but i don’t mind if your plus one joins too?”
“this is __. we’re just friends, but appreciate it bro,” mark quickly clarified. jaehyun nodded in understanding.
“i’m jaehyun, nice to meet you, pretty.” taking in the sight in front of you, you were met with his deep brown eyes, perfectly messy black hair, and lovely dimples for the first time that night.
he was really attractive and just your type, and with this along with the affectionate name right off the bat, you knew you were a goner.
after joining their rotation and meeting some other friends in the circle, you fell into a comfortable mood, conversations and laughs flowing. you found out jaehyun and a couple of his friends rented the house where you all were at, letting it be a regular party grounds.
you’d known a couple of people lived at that house, but you’d only met johnny, another host and one of jaehyun’s roommates, so it was nice to meet the dimpled man.
as the night went on, you were still aware of the presence of the new man next to you, maybe too aware, but you knew somehow in the back of your mind you would be seeing a lot more of him. now that you know your regular party spot was his house, you hoped so.
and to your pleasant surprise, you did see him a lot more. the next couple of parties, he always somehow found you, inviting you to smoke with him even without mark. you usually had brought your own weed, but you’re never one to turn down a free smoke, especially when he was always the one to seek you out.
he always seemed to throw in a flirtatious remark or a pet name that had your stomach in flips whenever you spent your time smoking together. you acted like you didn’t mind, but your heart was beating out of your chest as you tried to keep your cool.
otherwise, conversations were always pleasant and comfortable with him, and you two just clicked.
at some point, you found yourself pocketing your own weed and going straight to jaehyun. you were getting more and more familiar with the butterflies in your stomach.
looking good, angel.
god, you hold your smoke like a champ, pretty.
i think i deserve a smooch for how good i rolled this for you, baby.
with each party, he got more and more bold, but never went beyond words. it sent a thrill through your being, making you crave his presence more and more. something about him infatuated you. you wanted to get to know him, to see if there was any room in him for you.
your curiosity was cut short as you quickly learned to dismiss his flirting as nothing more than playfulness once you learned more about him.
after all, it wasn’t a secret that jeong jaehyun was a player.
you had to learn this yourself by seeing him tangled with some random girl in front of your own eyes. the first time it happened, you remember how you stopped breathing for a second, the feeling of your stomach dropping far too uncomfortable.
you couldn’t stop your thoughts from spiraling. you didn’t even know him that well, didn’t even know him outside of the low lights, burning alcohol, and smoke clouds. how could you think you were special? you learned then and you know now, and as time helps, it hurts less.
you got yourself up to date. you’ve heard the rumors about him around the different friend circles, and even know a few girls he’s hooked up with. who were you kidding?
whenever it happened, you always turned on your heel, pulling out your own forgotten joints, pushing down the disappointed feeling in your heart by finding another friend or two to get high with. the next party would roll around and jaehyun would come find you as if you weren’t completely gone from his mind the last time you shared space.
all feelings of disdain for him would fade with the sound of his deep, hearty laughter, and everything would continue on with the addition of you swallowing your feelings. he just wasn’t someone you could let go.
it’s been a while since you’ve been met with the unpleasant sight of his hands on another, but it’s happened enough for you to know.
you know better than to expect something like that between you and jaehyun. if you could just keep the role of his smoking buddy to yourself, then you were content keeping things the way they are. it’s easier.
it’s nights like these, however, when jaehyun’s actions make it hard.
a warm jacket is dropped on your shoulders as you step onto the house porch, meeting your friend as promised. jaehyun’s looking at you with his deep brown eyes, pulling the jacket’s hood over your head.
“don’t know why you always somehow forget to wear something that won’t get you sick,” he says warmly with a hint of a teasing tone. he’s done this more than enough times for you not to argue.
“no jackets went with the fit.. thank you though,” you thank him as he pulls out his array of joints. he looks through them under the dim porch light when he picks out one holding it in front of your mouth to take.
“you’ll like this one,” he assures. weed is weed, so you don’t think twice.
you grasp the joint between your fingers, and jaehyun lights it as you inhale slightly, watching the paper glow. you take a deeper inhale, holding it a few seconds before blowing out smoke and passing it back to jaehyun.
it is a little different than usual. a slightly floral taste and smell invades your senses, almost a little perfume-y but not unpleasantly so.
“what did you put in there?” you question, trying to decipher from the smell.
he grins, handing it back to you.
“mixed in a liiitle bit of dried rose petals to the grinder. you like?” he asks, but he knew you would like it when he packed it.
“i do actually, what made you think of doing that?” you fall back into your usual conversation with him.
“just thought you’d like it, nothin much to it,” he replies, taking the joint from you to ash it. “kinda romantic though, no?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.
you laugh, letting the high carry the weight of his words from your heart.
“yeah def, the ladies are gonna loove this one,” you joke, masking any bitterness.
he looks at you for a second, gaze seeming to soften before turning to relight the joint, rotating it a few times to make sure it was burning evenly.
“nah, you know i don’t smoke with them like that,” he holds up the joint for you to take a hit. you let him hold it as you inhale slightly, and he brings it back up to his own lips.
“that’s why i’ve got you, pretty,” he muses, taking another hit. you can’t bring yourself to come up with a smart response, heart pounding as you change the subject to something random.
you try not to lose yourself to your thoughts, but you feel yourself go into autopilot. your body keeps up with jaehyun’s conversation as your mind dwells on his previous words.
you’re special to him in some way, and you’ll take it even if it isn’t exactly the way you’d want.
you finish the joint, letting it fall to the pavement as you stomp out its embers.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
the next time you come around, it’s a special celebration - a birthday rager for jungwoo, one of jaehyun’s housemates and another host of the house parties. jungwoo’s regularly in jaehyun’s rotations, so you’ve gotten to know the puppy-like man pretty well. meaning he is comfortable enough to put you in your current predicament.
“__, please please take this shot with me, it’s literally my birthday.” you showed up a little later than usual to the party because of work, but a tipsy jungwoo somehow caught hold of you before you could even get anything in you.
you give in, taking the shot, but the birthday boy is relentless.
“you need to catch up, okay?!” he hands you another double shot, whining as you look at him incredulously. as much as you cared about your friend, you were itching to find jaehyun. jungwoo’s next words make that itch stop.
“stupid fucking jae, ditching me to go mess with some girl.. it’s literally my birthday..” jungwoo pouts, pouring another shot for himself as well.
you still for a second. it’s just another one of those days, you remind yourself. it’d honestly been so long since you’ve run into him messing around with some random girl that you’d thought he might have changed.
but he hasn’t, and you’re not gonna let that ruin your night. deciding to come out of drinking retirement for tonight, you place your hand on jungwoo’s shoulder. fuck it.
“bottoms up, birthday boy.”
jungwoo smiles big, clinking his cup against yours before the two of you down your shots, swallowing down your feelings along with the alcohol entering your system. a couple more friends join you, including mark, and you soon find yourself more drunk than you planned to be.
jungwoo was a convincing host, getting you, everyone around you, and himself absolutely sloshed.
after multiple rounds of shots, a few drinking games, and a body shot between jungwoo and a red-head whose name you can’t remember, you’re wasted.
you end up in some bathroom with jungwoo and a few others, jungwoo throwing up into the toilet as you all bring him water and care for him to the best of your drunk abilities.
you don’t know how, but you get tasked with taking the birthday boy up to his room. you aren’t sure where his roommates are, but you can assume what one of them is up to. it makes your stomach turn.
pushing the thought from your mind, you head up the stairs with your lanky friend draped around your shoulders, somehow making each step.
the red-head, who you eventually remembered as yuta (after he told you), let you know his room was the second door on the left. you stumble into the room, letting jungwoo topple on the bed.
“woo, let me borrow a shirt, you spilled your beer all over me earlier.” he hums, but looking at him he’s already wrapped in the blankets of the bed, starting to doze off.
you go into his closet, not caring and still drunk, swapping your soaked shirt for a random long sleeve. you go back to check on him, sitting at the foot of the bed while chuckling at his light snoring.
“__?” a deep voice cuts through the room. you left the door wide open when you came in, still a little drunk to think clearly. you turn to see the one you spent all night trying to wipe from your head.
“oops, hi jae,” you greet, suddenly conscious of how drunk you might look.
“hi, what are you doing in my room?” he asks. your mouth opens, no sound coming out.
“is this not jungwoo’s room?? the second door on the left?” you question, embarrassment starting to sprout. jaehyun laughs.
“how much did you have to drink? can’t tell your rights from lefts?” you let out a gasp at this, hands coming to your face.
“ugh, why did they put me on jungwoo duty anyway?” you mumble into your hands. jaehyun enters the room, standing in front of your sat form. he looks at you for a second, leaning down slightly. your drunk mind jumps right way to something else, but jaehyun passes you to shake jungwoo.
“woo, get up. go to your own bed,” jaehyun says, shaking him awake. jungwoo grunts, eyes stubbornly shut, but he’s awake. “no more weed for a month if you don’t go to your room,” jaehyun tries again, and it works.
jungwoo springs up at the threat, stumbling out of the bed as you watch jaehyun help him to his feet. jungwoo slumps over jaehyun’s shoulders, similarly to how had done to you earlier, and you follow them across the hall to jungwoo’s room.
jungwoo lands on his bed with a grunt, seemingly falling back asleep almost instantaneously. jaehyun places a water bottle on his nightstand before turning back to you.
“nice shirt by the way,” he winks. you look down, forgetting what you were wearing, confused at his compliment when you come to the realization.
that wasn’t jungwoo’s room, so it wasn’t jungwoo’s closet. you aren’t wearing jungwoo’s shirt.
“oh my god jae, i’m so sorry, i’ll steal another from jungwoo’s closet and give you this one back ” you ramble, but he just leads you out of jungwoo’s room with a warm hand on your back, turning the light off and closing the door.
“just wear mine, it’s cool,” jaehyun says nonchalantly. “wanna smoke? i can pull out the bong,” jaehyun offers. there are still partygoers downstairs, but you don’t feel like joining them.
the sound of a freshly packed bowl is like heaven to your drunk ears, and you find yourself agreeing before you can catch it. you let the reason why you are only seeing jaehyun now this far into the night leave your mind.
you get to spend alone time with him, and it fills your heart with good feelings.
leading you back into his room, jaehyun closes the door behind you as you take in the room. when you brought jungwoo in here earlier, you weren’t focused enough to actually get a good look at everything.
“it’s cleaner than i thought it would be in here,” you decide to poke fun a bit. jaehyun rolls his eyes at you. he sits on his bed, patting the spot next to him for you to sit down. you trust jaehyun, but being in his room for the first time is nerve wracking.
your eyes follow his careful hands as he pours some water from a bottle on his night stand into the bong, pulling the bowl out to add the ground leaves.
“how much did you really have to drink? do you need water?” jaehyun looks at you a bit concerned.
“i’m good, just haven’t drank this much in a while though. i think a hit of that might make me feel betterrr,” you point to the bong in his hands. jaehyun grins.
“anything for you, baby,” he says handing you the bong. you bring it to your mouth quickly as he flicks a lighter on to light the bowl. smoke slowly fills the bong and with a quick inhale you take in the smoke in an effort to try and hide the warmth on your cheeks.
“that’s my girl,” jaehyun murmurs proudly, in awe of how you know your way around a bong. your ears almost miss his praise, but it takes everything in you to not choke on the smoke you exhale. my girl. the words ring in your ears, and your cheeks are burning hot now.
you pass the bong back and forth for a while until your drunken haze has faded into a raging high, and jaehyun’s right up there with you.
you both watch as the other lights up, and jaehyun’s gaze shifts from where your hand grips the neck of the bong to your where your mouth meets its entrance.
there’s a moment of silence where he seems to be thinking before he speaks up.
“looks like you were having fun, sure you made jungwoo’s birthday so fun, downing all those shots with him,” he recalls.
“you were watching?? when you coulda just joined?” you question.
“was busy with a friend,” he replies curtly. it stings a bit.
“right,” you choke out, falling into a silence. after a brief pause, he looks at you with a gaze a bit too serious for his next words as the smoke clouds the room further.
“can’t believe your first trip to my room was with another man,” he says lowly. your eyes widen at this, and he keeps going.
“dunno, just thought the first time i’d bring you up here would be special, and with me.” he finds nothing wrong with his words, pondering as he looks up at the smoke.
“you wanted to bring me here?” you ask, finally letting yourself speak.
“yeah, why wouldn’t i?? you’re one of my best smoking buds, my rose bud,” he says and you recall his last custom blend for you.
“bud..” you say quietly. one of his buds, his friends. he was keeping himself busy with a friend earlier.
the weed creeps up on you as your mind thinks of a million different things, and its either you took one too many hits or there must be leftover alcohol in your bloodstream with the way your words leave you like lightning.
“would you kiss one of your buds?”
“what?”
“i mean, you’ve been kissing your friends, so i was wondering if i made the cut.”
his eyes slightly widen, yet still look so heavy as you make out their faint redness and glossed over look.
the high must have taken jaehyun too, and everything moves in slow motion as he crashes lips onto yours.
you’re amazed at just how good it feels to have his lips on yours. his lips are warm, moving slowly across yours as he deepens the kiss further, hands creeping around your waist. your eyes are shut tight and you feel like you’re seeing colors with how he’s taking your breath away.
when his tongue prods at your lips, you’re quick to let him in. everything feels like its burning, from your mouth to the place where his hands meet your hips. and you feel the unmistakeable burning from down below, too.
he kisses you, not letting up until you move to start to adjust yourself over him. his hands move to your ass, and you let out a gasp at his firm grip. you’re sat on his lap, kisses messy and getting deeper by the second.
his hands move to your hips pushing you down onto him as his hips jerk up, and you let out a sweet moan at his hard member pressing through his jeans into you.
his eyes open wide at the sound.
as if awoken from a deep sleep, the sweet sound that comes from you breaks jaehyun out of his lustful daze. he stops kissing you, hands moving back up to your waist to gently guide you back to your original spot next to him.
your disappointment is through the roof, and if not for the substances running through your body, the embarrassment could bring you to tears.
“jae? what’s up?” you try to set a lighthearted tone, hoping it’s not over, but jaehyun looks you at you with an apologetic expression.
“sorry, i went too far.. i’m kind of gone. we’re both really fuckin high, don’t wanna do something you’d regret.” he says in the same curt tone that dampened your mood earlier. “i don’t think we should be doing that.”
your breath catches at that last part.
you had wanted to cut him off, saying he didn’t need to be sorry and that you actually liked it and wanted even more. but he made it very clear he thought it was a mistake.
suddenly, you’re reminded that those same lips were on another’s not even a couple hours before yours, and it makes you sick to your stomach.
your mind starts to ask questions you don’t have answers to, but you’re not gonna let yourself sit in the shame of expectation.
you find your quickest escape route, acting as if you’re checking your phone for a notification.
“gotcha, okay. mark is texting me, he’s getting us an uber,” you say, getting off of his bed and scanning your area for any forgotten items. he seems to have something to say, but he keeps his mouth glued shut as you fix yourself.
“have a good night, jae.” you make your way to the door.
“see you next week?” he asks as you turn the door knob.
“maybe.” you walk into the hallway, silently shutting his door behind you.
for the first time since you’ve met, you hope you don’t see him.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
from that moment on, you decided to do everything in your power to not be around jaehyun. as much as you’ve tried to justify his actions, you can’t. the rejection burns and just the sound of his name brings up the same queasy feeling.
you decide to skip the next few parties, but after a while you’ve been itching to be back in that atmosphere. you debate not showing up to the next party that rolls around, but mark catches you before you can hole up in your apartment.
“dude, you have to go, johnny would be so sad,” mark reasons.
johnny had gone back to his hometown for his own birthday and was gone for quite some time. once he came back, you heard he had thrown a small fit about jungwoo’s birthday rager. not only was he feeling left out since he missed it, he just knew he could throw an even better one. soon enough, he texted all the groupchats promising just that.
it was just like him to throw a birthday rager more than a month after his birthday. johnny was just as crazy, if not worse than jungwoo when it came to parties. you knew you would have a good time, but the lingering presence of jaehyun looms over your head.
“if i go, you need to stay with me, mark..” you tell him seriously. he scratches his head.
“you’re always the one ditching me to find ja-”
“i won’t do that anymore, let’s just go?” you interrupt him, silently praying he wouldn’t question you. he shrugs.
“okayy, whatever you say. we’re having a bestie joint tonight though okay?” you’re grateful he didn’t pry, and as the two of you head to his party, he lights up that bestie joint you promised.
as you exhale the smoke, watching it rise as you walk with mark, you’re grateful that it alleviates some of the tension you felt returning after being gone for a while.
you can hear music bumping from down the street, and once you reach the house, mark pauses at the sight of a vaguely familiar, yet beautiful girl.
“oh shit,” he says under his breath. “didn’t know she was coming tonight.”
you take a closer look as her face, and you turn to mark with a mischievous grin as you finally recognize her.
yeri. one of jungwoo’s coworkers who you met briefly at his birthday. you probably took a shot or two with her, but it was a bit of a blur.
mark, on the other hand, would not shut up about her on the uber ride home. he regretted not getting her number, and was too shy to ask jungwoo, so he hasn’t seen her since.
“markie-pooooooh.. go get your girl,” you tease him.
“fuck, dude i didn’t prepare my heart for this..” mark breathes in and out, calming himself.
“you’ve got this dude, and i can get myself home tonight so don’t worry!” you assure him.
he looks at you a bit worriedly. “but i thought you wanted me to stay with you, are you sure?” he truly is your best friend.
“we can do this anytime, i need you to get her number before i go and do it first,” you jokingly threaten, and mark gives you a quick squeeze before heading off to talk to her.
smiling to yourself as you see her light up at his presence, you walk into the house, just wanting to get a bit of alcohol in you before finding the birthday boy.
you are instead met with jungwoo, and he’s puppy-like as always. he gives you a big hug, swaying you back and forth in his arms. you can smell the alcohol on him as he gushes.
“__, my hero!!! my heroine?? whatever, it’s been so long, i thought i scared you off!” he looks at you, pouting his bottom lip. “thank you for taking care of me on my birthday, i swear i won’t be messy today..”
you laugh, breaking an arm out of his grasp to ruffle his hair. “it’s all good woo, i’ve just been busy for a bit,” you assure.
he’s quick to lead you to the kitchen to grab a drink and a shot or two. after catching up for a bit, he puts on a curious face.
“by the way.. can i ask you something?”
“you just did.” he rolls his eyes.
“ok anyways.. are you and jaehyun like, a thing?” he asks, and you almost choke on the drink you’re sipping on.
“wh-what? no, to me he’s literally just the weed guy,” you stutter out. you could have just said you were friends, but you said the first thing that came to mind.
jungwoo lets out a booming laugh at this, hysterical at the nickname “weed guy.”
“i’m soo dead, he needs to hear this shit, it’ll humble his ass,” jungwoo says between his laughter, holding his stomach.
“i already did.”
you both gasp and turn to the kitchen entrance, seeing jaehyun there with a flat expression.
immediately the drunk jungwoo starts hounding him, and your face burns. he was so much more than just the “weed guy,” but you know he probably could not care less.
jaehyun turns to you. it hasn’t even been more than a couple of weeks since you’ve seen him, but you missed him so bad. he isn’t wearing his usual hat today, leaving his black hair to fall over his forehead. his features pull into a glare.
“weed guy? i guess that makes sense from the way you always mooch off me,” jaehyun says a little too coldly.
you and jungwoo are speechless for a second, not sensing any joking tone from him. jungwoo laughs awkwardly, trying to break the tension.
“oh you don’t mean that, jae.. you missed her, i mean the past few weeks you’ve be-”
jaehyun turns on his heel before jungwoo could finish, and the two of you are left confused in the kitchen.
“why is he so pissy?” jungwoo asks, gasping when he turns back to you and sees the expression on your face.
your cheeks burn with shame as you recall all your past interactions with him. you had always been so eager to smoke with him, to see him. were you just annoying him this entire time?
if this was the first thing he has to say to you after rejecting you and leaving you out to dry, you really are not as special as you thought you were.
it hurts, and you can’t hide it.
“no, no he didn’t mean it!! he’s probably just stressed or something,” jungwoo panics.
as if on cue, the birthday boy who had somehow left your mind strolls in with a full red solo cup. johnny is clearly wasted as he lights up seeing you.
“why were you hiding out here??? you didn’t even tell me happy birthday,” johnny slurs as he comes to pull you into a hug. his long limbs are not coordinated as the alcohol runs through his veins, and one wrong step leads his cup flying onto you.
you stand there, shocked at the turn of events in the last 10 minutes, as johnny fusses over you. he hugs you as the alcohol seeps uncomfortably into your clothes.
“happy birthday johnny, i want you to have so much fun but i’m sorry, i’m gonna head home,” you tell him, trying not to make it apparent that you’re holding back tears.
“no, no, let me get you some clothes to change into,” johnny tries, but the party guests are already calling him back into the living room for another shot.
“it’s okay, i got it,” jungwoo butts in, having witnessed everything. johnny tries to argue, but the two of you nudge him out of the kitchen, wanting him to enjoy his night.
the walk up the stairs to the bedrooms is miserable, with you and jungwoo silent as you hold your arms around yourself. once you’re in jungwoo’s room, he hands you a hoodie and some sweats.
“i’m sorry, __, i shouldn’t have provoked him,” jungwoo apologizes, notably more sober than when you first saw him.
“it’s fine. i just don’t know what his problem is when he’s the one who..” you trail off, feeling the tears start to prickle at your eyes.
jungwoo pats your head as a few tears slip. you think it must be the alcohol, but you know you’ve sobered up. at his contact the tears just flow.
jungwoo is silent as he lets you cry, not wanting to push you to talk until you initiate it yourself.
your tears have stopped after some time passes, and jungwoo has not left. he places a towel he grabbed on your shoulders, and leads you to the bathroom attached to his room.
“maybe a warm shower would help, you don’t have to go back out there if you don’t want to. you can chill for a bit and i’ll call you an uber home later?” jungwoo offers.
you nod, grateful for his understanding. if only you liked him instead, maybe you wouldn’t be going through this. he’s here taking care of you when he could be downstairs having fun.
at your urging, jungwoo goes back down to the party. he promises to come back to check on you, and rushes down once he hears johnny announcing another house shot.
you peel off your soaked clothes, placing them to the side as you step into the shower. your eyes scan his soaps, landing on the body wash. opening it, you find it has a very woody, masculine scent, but you would take that over going home sticky.
the warm water really does make you feel better, and you spend a bit of time in there making sure all of the alcohol is scrubbed from your skin.
you hear the bedroom door open as you are wrapping up and turn off the water, assuming jungwoo came back to check in. you change into the clothes he gave you, taking extra care to wipe any signs of tears from your face.
to your surprise, the person sitting on the bed when you exit the bathroom is not jungwoo.
“what the fuck, jae? what are you doing here? where’s jungwoo?” you question.
“i should be asking you the same thing,” jaehyun bites back.
he takes in your form, skin looking refreshed from the shower and your cozy form wrapped in jungwoo’s clothes. his eyes darken.
“so is this your thing? just going into any dude’s room and stealing his clothes?”
jae’s eyes shift to jungwoo’s bedside table.
“so you and jungwoo are fucking now?” his gaze is piercing through you. in any other case you would be paralyzed by his stare, but it only makes you livid.
all you wanted to do was recover from what the very man in front of you did, and he’s putting you in the interrogation room? hell no.
“it’s none of your fucking business, jae.” you meet his gaze with your own. he’s silent, moving his eyes back down to a box resting on the table, and your eyes follow.
that’s why he thinks that. sitting there is a box of condoms, and it makes you feel extra guilty, knowing you’re probably cockblocking any plans jungwoo had for the night.
jaehyun’s deep voice cuts through the silence.
“was he good?”
“oh my god, why the hell are you even here?” he’s ignoring you, and he gets up and stands right in front of you.
“he must have sucked then, seeing that you’re still standing and he’s down there drinking his ass off with some random chick.” jaehyun has venom leaking from his words. what a hypocrite.
“as if you weren’t doing the same exact thing? we aren’t like that, so can you just get out?” you’re boiling at this point at his audacity.
“i bet i could do better, so much better,” he says and just like that you’re stunned at his words.
“what?” your voice comes out in a whisper, shocked at his implications.
he wraps his hands around your waist, moving backwards as he pulls you closer to the bed. the familiar scent of jungwoo’s body wash fills his nose, and he feels anger prick at the back of his head.
“i said, i could do you so much better, baby.” his gaze is the darkest you’ve seen from him. you’re still in shock to say the least, body on fire from his proposal and the affectionate name you’ve been missing.
he’s fully sat on the edge bed with you standing in his arms, but you don’t want to melt in his hands just yet, especially after what he put you through.
you take a step back, glaring at him. a sudden burst of confidence runs through you.
“oh yeah? i don’t know.. i’m kind of sore,” you rub your lower back for dramatic effect, challenging him to see his reaction.
jaehyun seethes, tugging you back into him, pulling you so he can lay a sloppy kiss to your neck. his hot breath is on you and you know he can feel your heart beating.
“he left you sore, but i’ll make sure you can’t even walk out of his room without me.”
with that, he angles his head up, lips molding to yours as he keeps a hand on the back of your neck and the other on your hip.
his lips are familiar, but the way he kisses you is anything but. unlike the first time, which started out slow and a little unsure, jaehyun roughly kisses you now with hurried passion.
he flips the two of you over, hovering over you so that he can kiss you even deeper, and you can’t help but thread your hands through his hair.
the anger you felt before still remains, but even if you wanted it to, time away from him hasn’t changed the fact that you want him more than anybody you’ve ever met.
he slots a leg in between yours, pushing up against your core. it doesn’t help that you don’t have underwear on under the sweats, and you move your hips with him trying to get more friction.
breaking from you with a thread of saliva connecting your lips, he trails down your neck, leaving soft bites. he growls at the hoodie in the way, remembering that it isn’t his.
“arms up, baby,” he says, backing up a bit. you comply, and he pulls the hoodie off you, chucking it to the side not caring where it lands.
he lays kisses down your throat to your collarbones and leaves a particularly harsh kiss right above your chest. his mouth moves to your right nipple, tongue flicking it up and down as his other hand moves to knead the other side.
his hands trail down your waist, tugging at the waistband of the pants. he sits up to pull them completely off, reveling at your uncovered core glistening with arousal.
“on all fours,” he instructs, and you quickly flip over, pulling a pillow to clutch. he pulls your hips up, gripping your ass as he admires the view.
“naughty baby, one guy wasn’t enough? still so wet, he didn’t satisfy you?” he slides his fingers between your folds, circling your clit as you moan out.
he inserts one finger, wetness gushing around as you take it in, and he moves it around a bit as it reaches the base. just one of his fingers feels overwhelming, and he hums as he adds another, slowly pumping in and out.
“are you sure he fucked you right? you’re squeezing around me like crazy,” he makes his point with a curl of his fingers, feeling you clench tight around his digits.
his fingers move in and out faster and faster as you moan desperately into the pillow in your grip, hips moving with his fingers.
“bet he couldn’t even make you cum, pretty, want me to help you out?” he asks, fingers not slowing down in the slightest as his other hand reaches for your clit.
“j-jae, yes, please,” you groan into the pillow.
“then fucking cum,” he growls, and his hands move even faster and press deeper at your most intimate parts.
the pressure builds and builds in your stomach, jaehyun coaxing you along, and you cum hard around his fingers.
“jae, f-fuck, fuck!” you cry out as he helps you ride out your orgasm. his fingers leave your entrance with a wet sound, and your hips collapse at the lack of his support.
he gets up for a bit, and you hear a rustling sound. you peek over your shoulder to see jaehyun, stripped naked and lowering a condom you assume he grabbed from jungwoo’s box onto his cock.
you had gotten just a sneak peak of his size from how hard he was through his pants the first time you made out, but it did no justice to the real thing. he is huge.
he comes back to you, pulling your hips back up and slotting himself between your legs. you grip onto the pillow harder as he rubs his tip up and down your slit. his tip catches on your entrance and you gasp, legs tensing.
“jae, ‘s too much,” you moan out at the slight stretch.
“you can take it, all warmed up for me already,” he chokes out, inching his way to fill you up completely. his grip on your hips is bruising, and you know without his strong hold you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up.
he groans deeply, a sound that seems to come deep from his throat, as he bottoms out, and your eyes prickle with tears at the feeling. he gives you a second to adjust before pulling out fully to his tip, then thrusting back in harshly.
the motion sends you forward slightly, and the air seems to be pushed from your lungs. it feels so good, and you want more.
“fuck me jae, p-please fuck me, oh f-” you moan out, and he obliges, giving you another harsh, deep thrust.
once he’s bottomed out again, he pauses. you push your hips back into him, expecting him to start pistoning into you, but he lets out a sigh before pulling out of you completely.
your heart sinks.
“this isn’t how i wanted it to go..” he murmurs frustratedly.
the same feeling of disappointment and rejection hits you like a train, and this time you can’t hold yourself together for long enough to get out of there.
your shoulders are shaking from tears before you know it, and jaehyun’s face falls in realization.
“wait, wait, no, i’m sorry,” jaehyun starts, scooping you up into his arms at the sound of your tears. “give me a second to explain, baby.” you push at his chest.
“just say you don’t want to fuck me and go, jaehyun, save me the fucking humiliation please,” you let out between your sobs.
he tries to start talking, but you don’t let him, wrapping yourself in the bed’s comforter.
“you must be high, i must be fucking wasted to think you were serious, just like before.” you put your face in your hands, trying to calm yourself and catch your tears.
jaehyun grabs your hands away from your face, leaning in to give you a deep kiss. the kiss is slow and steady, more sweet and tender than any one you had shared before.
when he separates from you, you can’t speak. you have no idea what’s going on through his head, and you want more than anything to just go home.
“i’m more sober than i’ve ever been, please just listen to me. i didn’t mean it like that, ok?” jaehyun explains. you stay silent, and he takes that as his cue to continue.
“i want more than anything to fuck you, pretty, i wanted to back then and i want to now.” you start to speak, wanting to question him, but he continues.
“it’s just, i know i’m not exactly the, uh, most innocent person out here..? i mean- i’ve done a lot with different people, but with you… i couldn’t just do what i always do..” he admits.
you raise your eyebrows, still trying to understand what he’s getting across as your heart finds a new spark of hope that you desperately try to extinguish.
“i didn’t want you to just be a quick fuck, i still don’t. i want to take my time, to treat you like you deserve, and that wasn’t the time and place for that,” he explains, looking down at your hands in his with a guilty expression.
“..then why didn’t you say that?” you asked him, still trying to process. the spark of hope is burning hotter and brighter by the second.
“believe me, i wanted to.. but i was such a pussy about it, i kept telling myself i should wait to talk to you in person, and then you stopped showing up.” he grimaces.
“i’m sorry for acting like a jerk earlier, i wanted to apologize for all of this, but then i saw you going upstairs with jungwoo.. and then he came back down, and you didn’t,” jaehyun rambles, trying to articulate his feelings.
“you could never mooch off me, i’m actually happy whenever you come find me.. you know i always roll an extra joint or two hoping you’ll show up?” the tips of his ears redden at his revelation.
“i hope i’m not just the weed guy to you, because i think— no, i know you’re so much more to me than just that,” he confesses, finally looking you in the eye.
“i don’t know what you’ve got going on with jungwoo, but i don’t like it, at all," he concludes.
“and what about your friends?” you ask incredulously. it’s feeling a but too good to be true.
“i stopped fucking around a while ago, way before jungwoo’s birthday,” he assures.
“but.. jungwoo said-” you start.
“fuck whatever he said, he was drunk and i just wasn’t feeling social that night,” he recalls that night, wishing it had ended differently than it did. he squeezes your hands.
“i just know i could treat you so much better than jungwoo ever could, than anyone could, and i want to.” his eyes are softer than before, and you melt at his confession.
for the first time in a while, you are glad you’re both sober. you know that what he’s saying is all his own thoughts.
you come closer, wrapping your arms around him, restless heart now full of ease and excitement. “i’m not fucking jungwoo, i was just messing with you because i was angry,” you explain.
he wraps his arms around your waist, head falling onto your shoulder with a sigh of relief. “thank god.. i thought i was going to have to fight one of my best friends.”
you laugh, feeling your heart lighten, but you feel the unmistakable ache from between your legs. you got a taste of him, and you wanted it all now.
“so are you gonna show me just how good you can treat me? orr…”
“oh baby, say less.” he jumps into action quickly, pushing you to lie on your back.
he lowers himself between your legs, nipping at your thighs.
you get shy, and he sees you covering your face with your hands. he moves to grab them, holding your hands at your side.
“look at me, pretty,” he says in that deep voice of his, and the sight of him between your legs is unreal, hair falling over his pretty face. not breaking eye contact, he brings his mouth down to your core.
your legs start to close and he nudges them back with his chin. he gives you a few kitten licks, testing the water before diving in with the same passion he gave your lips earlier, slurping at your core messily.
he watches your face, contorting with pleasure as your hands strain at his grip, and he moves to lace his fingers through yours, not letting up at all as continues to lap you up.
you’re already sensitive from earlier, and he has you cumming in no time with a harsh suck on your clit and his thumb entering you shallowly. you’re dizzy from the orgasm, and he releases your hands.
as you catch your breath, he lays kisses all the way up until he reaches your face, pecking you all over. you feel his aching hard member at your thigh, and you want him so badly.
“can i fuck you now, baby?” he asks gently, hearts radiating from his eyes. “i’m so hard i could burst any second now.”
you laugh, still in disbelief that the man you thought hated you is now in your arms like a lovesick puppy.
“anything you want jae, i’m all yours,” you beam. at your words, the energy shifts completely and jaehyun is more eager than ever.
already slotted between your legs, he gives you big smooch before he sits upright to line himself up with your core. he lifts your hips up slightly, and starts to push into you slowly.
he moves his eyes from where your lower bodies meet to your face, watching how your expression shifts with each inch.
“i’m so happy i can see your face,” he muses, breath quickening as he bottoms out with a deep groan, “can see how good i fuck my baby.”
he moves a hand over your thigh reassuringly before holding your his in a firm grip. he starts moving his hips into you, and the pleasure of him reaching deep into you has your eyes rolling back.
“so g-good for me, and only me,” he chokes out with gritted teeth as he pounds into you. the sight of him above you is all too much — body illuminated from the dim warm lighting of the bedroom lamp, neck straining as his hooded eyes never leave yours.
the pleasure is so dizzying and the sight of him has you melting. you reach out your arms to him, and he too melts at the sight of you wanting him in your arms.
he moves over you so he can hold you, continuing to slam into you once you’ve gripped onto him. your nails scratch at his back as he hits a spot just right, and it has you seeing stars.
you shut your eyes tight as jaehyun’s hips snap into you hard, feeling pressure build in your stomach.
“ah, sh-shit, so close baby. look at me, baby, let me see you,” he groans out, moving to his forearms to hover above you while his hips do not falter in the slightest.
you open your eyes to see him, expression enamored as he bites his lip in concentration. his lips fall into a grin as he meets your eyes. you clench, feeling your heart fill with affection.
“cum for me baby, please, need to feel you cum around me before i fucking explode,” jaehyun grunts, voice deep and strained.
you nod, moving your hips up to meet his thrusts. only the sound of your moans, his grunts, and skin on skin fill the room, getting louder and faster until you cum around him with a loud cry.
he groans loudly at this, feeling himself finish the second your orgasm has you squeezing him too tightly. he thrusts shallowly, riding out both your orgasms as he holds you close, lips meeting yours hungrily.
as he comes to a stop, the two of you lay there kissing, just basking in the warmth of each other’s embrace. your lips slow against each other, and he starts to give you little pecks until you hear the creaking of the door. oh shit.
“__ are you o- WHAT. THE. FUCK.” a red-faced jungwoo stands there in disbelief. he’s clearly intoxicated, not knowing if this is a drunk dream. “really? in my fucking bed??”
you hide your face out of shame and jaehyun just smiles shamelessly from under his roommate’s covers.
“i’ll wash the sheets, just take my room,” he says nonchalantly.
“hell no, i’m gonna crash in johnny’s, this room better be spotless tomorrow..” with that jungwoo turns on his heel, slamming the door behind him.
“fuck, i think we really made him mad,” you say worriedly to jaehyun. you feel bad given how jungwoo had cared for you earlier.
“nah, don’t worry about it, we’ll make it up to him,” jaehyun muses, looking at you before pulling the covers off. he smiles big, dimples on full display, taking in your features and brushing a stray thread from your forehead.
you lean up to surprise him with a sweet kiss, and he returns it eagerly. he pulls back, beaming at you with a slight rosy red tint to his cheeks.
“actually, i need to end tonight with you in my bed and my clothes, so let’s take it back to mine.” he grins cheekily as he nuzzles into you, and you can’t help but smile.
“maybe let’s take a quick shower first?” you suggest, poking him in the side.
in a flash, he’s up, tugging you alongside him as you both make your way to jungwoo’s bathroom.
“whatever my baby wants,” he beams, lips meeting yours as he shuts the bathroom door behind him.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
a/n: thank you all so much for reading and for everyone who interacted with the preview, hope you enjoy!!! i wanted to post this for 127 day, but it's coming a little late. hope everyone is taking care, shares and feedback are always appreciated! ♡
⋆ coco ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
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l0vergirlv0mit · 5 months
Note
hey girl, can you write abby or ellie teaching reader (who's never been in a relationship) how to cuddle? I feel like it would be so cute ☹️
a/n: Hey girly!! YESS ofc I love comfort🤭🤭🤭 I wrote for Ellie cause I haven’t yet. Sorry this is short!
warnings/contents: weed, fluff, cuddling.
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“Are you gonna come sit down or what?” Ellie giggles and waves you over. She’s propped up on your bed with her rolling tray in her lap. You tentatively go to sit next to her watching as she focuses on rolling the perfect joint.
She looks over at you while licking the edge of paper. “Come closer hon, you know I don’t bite.” She hummed out placing the tray on your night stand, she nudging her head to the side bidding you over. “You wanna take the first hit? I’ll light it for you babe.” You nod and Ellie’s pulling you into her side placing the joint between your lips.
“Ya ready?” She says holding the lighter up. Her lips pulling into a small smile.
“Mhm.” You replied holding the joint between your fingers. Ellie goes to light it and you take a shallow inhale in to keep from coughing. It’s no use as you cough uncontrollably anyway. Ellie chuckles quietly, carefully taking the joint from your fingers raising her brows. “Amateur.” She teases you taking a long drag. Her lips wrapping around the joint with a faint smirk. You hit her shoulder lightly in faux annoyance.
You take the joint again right before it hits her lips for a second hit and move away from her to the other side of the bed. She gasps at you before her face falls into disappointment. Her green eyes wearing a look of concern. “How come you keep sitting so far away from me? You don’t wanna cuddle?”
You blow smoke into the room hoping the weed would soon calm your nerves as you look away nervously. “I-I don’t know.” You shrug. Ellie exhales a quick laugh at your response. “You don’t know? What do you mean you don’t know?” She’s furrowing her brows at you confused but the corners of her mouth perk up with slight amusement. Taking the joint from your hand taking a final puff then ashing it for later.
You start to get nervous feeling a bit stupid at your inability to be affectionate. “I-I don’t know, I mean I’ve never done…that.” You look away again at the last word. Ellie moves closer to you instead just filling the space herself. “You mean you’ve never had someone cuddle you before?” She questioned with an astounded look on her face.
“No…” You were fully embarrassed the weed honestly only heightened your feelings. “Awww you poor thing!” Ellie watches with droopy red eye as you pull you lip between your teeth and can’t help but giggle. Playfully pulling you into her arms. “Your cute, how about I teach you babe hmm?” Her fingers running through your hair.
You nod timidly. Her arms around you felt good she soothed that anxiousness inside of you. Ellie goes to lay down in the bed lifting the covers up. She was staying the night dressed in her boxers and an oversized tshirt. “Come on.” She beckons you to lay beside her and you obliged. “Ok now what?” You felt silly honestly giggling quietly waiting for more instructions.
“Put your head on my chest.” Her command made you confused so you laid only your head on her chest not knowing what to do with the rest of yourself. Ellie let a laugh slip and you shoot her a glare. “I’m sorry I’m sorry! Ok now like put your leg between mine. Kinda lay on top of me.” You listen to her and she grabs your arm herself making you hug her abdomen.
The position immediately has you sinking into her. The feeling of Ellie’s chest raising and falling with her breathes grounding you. Ellie’s hand comes to rest on your back for a moment before scratching lightly up and down. “Comfy?” She asks and you’ve already closed eyes settling into her affection. Your cheek squished up against her. “Mhm…” You reply tiredly the soft sounds of the television nearly lulling you to sleep.
You look up at Ellie and she greets you with a soft caring smiling in return. Your hand finds its way under her tshirt pulling her even closer and closing your eyes. Her soft skin helping you into a dreamlike state. Ellie swears her heart stoped beating for a second. Pouting like how you would when you see a really cute puppy. Ellie’s attention is split between you and the tv as she mindlessly plays with your hair. After a couple minutes she hears soft snoring. She pushes hair out of your face and behind your ear to get a better look at you.
She’s smiling to herself when she realizes you’ve fallen asleep. She turns off the tv and carefully adjust herself so she holding you in her arms. She leaves one final kiss on your forehead. Letting out a deep sigh. She closes her eyes and falls asleep in the comfort of your intangled body’s.
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stars4ani · 2 months
Text
nsfw 18+
based on this ask
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it wasn’t unusual to have james kelly spend the night at your house, he’s known your dad since they were in college, which means he’s known you all your life. ofcourse, you’d grown up a lot, yet remaining oblivious to his prying eyes. you tried to convince yourself you’d gotten over your harmless little crush on him, but it was so hard when he was always around. trying to work that in your favor, your sweatpants and sweatshirts quickly turned to skirts and low-cut tops.
under the assumption that both your father and james had drifted off on the couch, you tiptoe into the kitchen for a glass of water. just as youre about to go back up to your room, you feel a presence behind you.
“can’t just avoid me forever y’know. it’s rude.” his voice, raspy due to his years of smoking, send shivers straight to your core.
“shit- i mean sorry i- i didn’t see you” you blurt out, mouth moving faster than your mind. god, he made you so nervous.
“don’t be sorry kid,” he chuckles, bringing his beer can to his lips and taking a sip, “what, mommy and daddy don’t like you cursing?” he teases.
“don’t call me kid” you pout, the nickname has always been annoying, but a sick part of you got turned on by it.
“not a kid huh? what are you then?” his teasing tone remains as his eyes linger on your chest.
it’s not long until he has you pressed against the wall, hungry mouth exploring your innocent one. you taste the booze and you smell the weed on him, he’s going to regret this. but you don’t care right now, what you do care about is the fact that his cold hands are creeping up your skirt as he deepens the kiss, tongue invading your mouth. you shiver at the feeling of his rings against your soft skin, “james”, you whine, pulling away slightly. “we can’t” you warn, looking up at him with lust filled eyes.
he laughs, raising an eyebrow at you
“yeah? this isn’t what you have in mind when you walk around in those skimpy fuckin skirts?”
your eyes go wide and your cheeks turn red.
“don’t go all shy on me now” he rasps, not giving you time to respond as he puts a hand to the back of your neck and bends you over the counter. he’s quick to pull down your soaked panties, your skirt rides up and you reach back to take it off but he grabs your wrist, stopping you.
“you wore it cus’ you wanted to get fucked so you’re keeping it on” he says, pulling out his cock and teasing the tip between your folds. “ever done this before?” he asks, not knowing if he could be rough with you or not.
“yes” you answer breathlessly, arching your back in hopes of some friction.
he chuckles, “knew you weren’t the good girl you act like you are.”
your hair is bunched up in his hand so he can kiss along your neck and shoulders as he thrusts himself into your tight cunt. you’ve never felt this full before, moans becoming broken and turning into begs. his composure is breaking too, with the way your walls flutter around him how could he not? his quiet groans grow whinier, you swear you hear him whimper, and that’s enough to send you both over the edge. you stay like that for a bit, both catching your breaths, you still can’t wrap your head around what happened. you turn around and leave a chaste kiss on his cheek, “please don’t regret this in the morning” you whisper softly, looking up at him with a hinge of guilt in your expression.
“i won’t, kid.”
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roanniom · 8 months
Note
fuck reality, think about waking up with eddie's mouth latched onto your nipple 🥰
Compliments
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, drug use (weed)
You wake up to a sensation that has your hips bucking upwards and your hand reaching up, fingers tangling into messy, curly hair.
“Mmmfuck,” you mumble into the darkness. Eddie Munson releases your nipple from his mouth with a wet pop.
“Nice to see you, too, sweetheart.”
His weight is warm and heavy on top of your body in the best way with your sleep shirt pushed up under your shoulders to expose your chest. You pull him in further against you and breathe in the scent of leather and minty gum and smoke and weed, layered over his sandalwood shampoo.
“Eddieeee,” you let out as a happy whine. He chuckles darkly in response and kisses down your neck back to the valley between your breasts.
“Babyyyy,” he whines back as a mimicking response. He’s further down the bed, his lower half humps the mattress where it rests between your spread legs. “Gonna give it to you real good, no need to get all whiny on me princess.”
You laugh at that and it comes out breathy. Eddie had been out all night at band practice, so you’d laid down for a little nap while waiting for him. You massage the delicate skin beneath his ear as he presses a kiss to one of your nipples and then the other.
“Always take care of my girls, don’t I?” he says to your breasts before sucking on one of your nipples again. You gasp and pull at his hair again, making him hum against you. “Mmmm yeah I do. But I do play favorites, don’t I, kitty?”
He slides a hand down your abdomen to press under the waistband of your panties. His fingers swirl in the gathered slick as he shuts his lids over rolling eyes.
“She’s been waiting for me, huh?”
“Eddie…” you giggle.
“Shhh, kitty’s talking to me right now, baby,” he hushes, smiling wide at the wet sounds coming from your pussy as he slides his fingers deep inside. You want to chide him for being silly, but he crooks his finger to press at that sweet spot and you’re gasping.
“Ohhh kitty’s been waiting for me like a good girl. Like a good, drooling girl,” Eddie coos, making sure to press circles into your clit with the heel of his palm. You can’t keep from laughing.
“How high are you, Munson?” you ask and he shrugs.
“Only one joint in, baby. Saving the rest for you,” he replies, smoothly reaching his freehand to pull a join out of his back pocket.
“So one joint and you’re having full conversations with my cunt?” you tease, plucking the joint from his fingers and putting it between your lips. He tsks disapprovingly while you pick up the lighter from your bedside table and strike it.
“Her name is kitty, and you need to treat her right,” Eddie admonishes. You roll your eyes but your hips buck of their own accord when he leans down and kisses your clit. Eddie grins up at you from between your legs. “She says your fingers are too small and you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Shut up,” you moan, nudging your knee against his shoulder. He pins your leg down and begins licking gently at your opening, taking his time and stopping often to place many wet kisses to the juncture of your hip and thigh. Meanwhile you light the joint and inhale deeply.
After you’ve taken a third hit - you’ve gotta catch up to him of course - you melt back against the pillows with a sigh, beginning to feel real relaxation set on. Eddie looks up from between your thighs again, your slick on his pretty lips.
“Gonna share, princess?” He asks, reaching out with his free hand. You shrug.
“Gonna start complimenting me instead of my cunt?”
Eddie leans up and swipes the joint from your fingers, leaving you dissolving into giggles. He watches you as his cheeks hollow and he inhales, blowing the smoke away from.
“My baby’s feeling neglected?” he asks teasingly.
“No…” you say but your smile is growing as your high begins to set in.
“If you want compliments, I can give you compliments, princess. Unlike you, kitty is patient.”
You scoff at him, but he quickly reaches up and puts the joint on the ashtray on your bedside table before grabbing you by the backs of your thighs. You squeal at being pulled further down the bed, eyes going wide at Eddie moving up to settle on top of you, lap cradled against your exposed pelvis.
“You are the most beautiful…” he stops to kiss one cheek, “loveliest…” kiss to the other cheek, “most spoiled girl in the world.”
“Hey!” you try to say but he reaches down and places two fingers back deep inside of you, making you gasp at the end of the word. He watches your face intently. Drinks in your pleasure.
“C’mon baby, give me what I want,” he says quietly, forehead against yours. His thumb is on your clit and you’re dizzy.
“Yeah of course. Fuck me,” you oblige. Eddie shakes his head, his nose rubbing against yours in the process.
“Sweetheart, that’s not what I want,” he chuckles. “Well yeah, eventually. But right now I want you to cum. Can you do that for me?”
“Wanna cum for you, Eds,” you nod. He begins nodding along with you.
“Gonna cum for me, princess?”
“Mmmyeah.”
“Mmmm fuck yeah,” Eddie groans as he feels your walls tighten around his fingers. Your face scrunches up in pleasure and he beams watching you. “So fucking sexy.”
You cum on his fingers, as requested, writhing in his arms. Eddie holds you through it, stroking your thigh and whispering into your neck.
“That’s it, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it? Ohhhh I know it does.”
When your mind finally clears and your muscles melt into a numb puddle, you look up to find Eddie, the picture of ease sitting in front of you with your spread thighs still slung over the tops of his. He’d retrieved and relit the joint. He watches you over it as he takes a long, deep hit, his cheeks hollowing, as his other hand fists lazily over his swollen cock, now pulled out of his sweatpants.
“Well aren’t you a pretty picture,” he says with a crooked smile.
“Thanks,” you hum, preening under his gaze. Eddie’s smile turns wolfish as he lifts his cock and drops it so that the underside lands heavy over your wet slit.
“I was talking to kitty, but you sure are pretty, too, princess.”
~*~
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Thank you for reading, please reblog and comment to let me know what you thought!!
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insaneprincess · 1 year
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eren j.
the sun hasn’t raised up and you woke up clenching your thighs together after the wet dream you woke up from noticing that eren was up with just his pajama pants on. his dick following his footsteps as he approached you from the balcony rolling his blunt. his hair in the messy man bun, his tattoos decorated his skin and his ear piercing shining in the mid dark room. you two ended up in bed passing the blunt to one another, not paying attention to the low tv in the background. playing too much around eren and telling him about your little dream about him blowing your back out. and you in nothing but a braless white wife beater and a thong that was hooked on your ass cheek which was constantly getting hard smacks. the bed rocking back and forth from your husband’s hard nonstop thrust. he tugged on your tank top for your ass to meet his pelvic just to hear those skin slapping noises along with the squelching of you creamy pussy. eren groans at how tight your clench around his cock and the white cream that coated his dick whenever he went balls deep in you. spreading your asscheeks just to smack them to see how it recoiled. your face was hot from the heavy toxic smell of weed eren was smoking. ” oh my…goddd” you moaned try to find something to hold on to as eren pressed your arch lower to deepen his strokes. “ throw that shit back baby” the sudden action caused you to scream rolling your eyes and eren murmuring little “ fucks” and “ shit”. “ god- eren shittt- you’re too deep!”. “ yeah? how deep am i mamas- is it here?” he emphasized pressing on your stomach listening to how broken your whining and your moans became. “ please- ‘ren slow down” he ignored you grabbing your chin letting you teary eyes meet his low red ones as he blew the smoke on your face chuckle at how you shut your eyes closed. he put out the blunt on the ashtray near the big bed you shared pressing open mouthed kisses on you plump lips and your neck. he gripped the headboard of the bed eying you with low eyes and a smile on his pretty face. how your wet lashes kissing your cheeks, nose all pink and runny from the cries and lips swollen. with your arch breaking and your thighs and legs shaking you began to babble non understandable words. mind all clouded and going dumb. “ what you trynna say baby?” you felt close and so overstimulated and tried to get away from the tall strong man you gripped on your hips not letting you run away knowing that both of you were close to your climax. “ why you runnin’ away- you gon’ take all this ma”. hearing how he talked to you had your cunt sucking him in if you weren’t doing so already. you forgot to warn eren before you squirted, soaking his whole dicks and pelvic. he laughed behind you, tapping his tip to help you with your release before entering you again to release his cum deep inside of you. <3
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planete777 · 8 months
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FREAK・⁠。♪ LN4
( lando norris x fem!reader )
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IN WHICH. y/n is full of surprises and shows lando just how dirty she can be. (based on this ask)
WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI, reader x brother'sbsf!lando, riding, mentions of sex toys, high hotness part 3464476, lando is lowkey in love with the reader, getting caught... but not really getting caught.
NOTE. my dearest anon requested and i HAD to write this. my last high!lando installment probably for a while because the summer is coming to an end 😭 i do have one more other fic coming tho, so stay tuned. anyways enjoy luvss <3 also credit to @lesbiacebian for the dividers.
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"are you really slagging me off for your girlfriend?"
lando's voice is incredulous, syllables barely pristine as the weed in his head breaks down any cohesion left. the hand pinching the spliff falls to the bed as he sits up, staring at his unmoving best friend.
"she just texted me, i'm not gonna ditch her for you, lando, no offence."
"all taken," he grumbles, then moves to take a harsh inhale of his joint. he may be completely high out of his fucking wits, but he's certainly not pliable like that. he came to get so faded with his friend (and, second to name, supplier) that his brain would feel like it's being suspended over a grill and burned with smoke.
"well," lando sees him shrug half heartedly, "she's putting something on the line for her late night endeavours."
lando scoffs, taking another godforsaken drag. pussy, he thinks, he's getting fucking pussy.
"you're a nasty piece of shit, you know that?"
the boy ahead of him waves him off, "better start going mate, she'll be here any minute."
lando stares blankly at him for so long his eyes begin to unfocus, before he's shaking his head, sliding off the sheets. what a dickhead.
"fine whatever." he opens the door, taking an inhale and exhale of the joint wedged in his lips, and he descends the carpeted stairs with little sentience. his limbs feel dismembered and he can barely perceive the distance from on step to another, but he reaches the ground floor anyways, making his way to the living room.
he guessed he'd find her here, practically one with the couch and eyes welded to the tv screen glimmering with another uninteresting reality show.
the light's off, and considering he could barely walk in a straight line due to the blunt puffing out smoke from his mouth, he doesn't notice y/n turning towards him, pressing pause on the tv.
"lando, hey."
her voice is light, as if she's afraid of disturbing the night, and she swings her legs off the couch. lando subtly scrutinizes what she wears, a tight tank top, and equally as tight shorts, and he begins to feel blood rush to his dick.
"hey," he smirks with the blunt still in his mouth, and shuffles towards the now empty space beside the girl who had him thinking with his dick. he forces the thoughts away, he's not acquainted with the whole corruption kink thing, and y/n screams bloody virgin.
"what brings you here, high out of your mind?" she's staring intensely, as if a blink would make him vanish, grinning light-heartedly.
lando chuckles, taking a long drag, "your brother wanted to get laid, and i'm sure not a voyeurist."
even the thought of it makes y/n grimace, "point made," she curls her legs back unto the couch as lando's eyes follow her.
it's not long before the sound of the doorbell ringing shrills once, dragged until the duration of it could barely hit it being a nuisance. y/n's brother tumbles down the stairs, opening the door with much vigour before dragging her up the stairs with hurrief footsteps. the whole ordeal plays out with silence between y/n and lando, hearing the ruckus with barely concealed amusement, and is cut dead once the bedroom door slams.
"i do not want to hear all that," y/n groans, "his room is right above this one."
"happens when you're pussy whipped like him," lando huffs out a cloud of smoke, "forget who the fuck is around."
"you know you can... go back home," y/n's sceptical, and rightfully so because lando has no idea why he's staying. nevertheless, he makes up an incomplete incentive that sounded valid only in his head.
"i know, but i'm high as fuck and walking in this heat home... yeah no."
his neck flexes as he sucks in as much weed as he can, and y/n watched avidly. something about seeing lando at the mercy of his inhibitions, eyes so red that wherever he looks, he paints it crimson, and lips selling his soul away to the strings of smoke. he's too out if it to notice y/n's assessment, with his head sunken into the couch behind him, and it makes the girl laugh.
"you're gone, aren't you?"
lando does nothing but smirk affirmatively, before limply taking another drag.
"and i could definitely do with a bed to sleep on," he pushes a sound out of his throat, "your brother... fucker, he is."
"for sure," y/n agrees then shuffles to get up, patting lando's thigh. he flitters his eyes open in surprise, diluted, however, because of his lack of level headedness, "what?"
"just this once, i'll give you my bed."
"really?" the word is chipped between his teeth from the burn scarred into the back of his throat.
"yeah," she smiles. lando pretends he doesn't feel his heart grin with her.
"i'm feeling nice today."
he stands up, stretches and feels his joints scream out inexplicable noises. the bed seems like paradise now.
"oh mint, thank you."
receiving a hum in return, he follows the girl up the stairs, praying that his legs don't give way. his mind dozes off as they get to the landing, and it's only when he trails behind her inside, on autopilot, and she shuts the door, does his conscience focus like accomodating vision.
"i need to go the bathroom, one sec."
his mind has one whiplash after another as he process her rapid disappearance, before tuning back into the room. it's tame, like any young adult room would be, with half-wave plant bunting snaking around her room. her headboard, however, glows white, abd he figures it's from the leds stuck under the rim.
he walks up to the bedside tableand picks up a small framed picture of her and her brother. young, they were, standing side by side with identical sunglasses on. he smiles, then situates it back.
the drawer beneath is open, just enough for him to slip his hand through and open it, but of everything he could presume to find, he does not expect to meet a clear purple dildo, thicker and longer than biologically possible. he feels like there's a broken wire in his brain, hanging and tickling just where it triggers his dick to harden.
he doesn't know why he's enthralled by it, staring at the phallic toy as if it would magically display the images of it being pushed and pressed into y/n, but then he finds himself wishing so. corruption was never his thing, but now it doesn't have to be. because y/n is already debauched from the hot inside, to the deceiving out.
he stands there, idle, and it pushes a huff of laughter from behind him.
"you can get in the bed, lando," she pronounces like he's a formative infant. but he's not moving.
"what is this, y/n?"
he can't see her face fall, confused, but he hears it in the way she speaks, "what?"
then he's storming to her, standing just before her with a burning look. y/n's not stupid, can tell the way he's turned on but whatever he's seen, if not by the way his eyes flick down to her lips, then by the bulge that pokes her peripheral vision, and it's that her eyes widen in shock.
"oh fuck."
"oh fuck indeed," he takes a final drag before quelling it on the desk behind her, "who knew you were shoving 8 inch dildos up your pussy?"
y/n knows where to push his buttons, get the heat rising like a flood of lava just before it turns into a battle of who will give in first?
her arms are wrapping themselves around his shoulders, pulling him in, "and who knew," a hand, calculative and slow, slides down to press the hard on in his jeans, "you would get turned on by it?"
then he's kissing her, hard, wet, messy, with tongues and soft lips eager for each other like they were quenching years of thirst. lando takes everything that y/n gives him, lapping at her tongue and biting at her lips with unrestricted composure.
she's pushing him back, hands scrambling on his top to get it off, and when she does, gives him a final nudge to the chest that has him flying to the bed.
he smirks up at her, watching as she dwindles to nakedness and lando thinks that he can't be seeing this. y/n, in front of him, stripping as if it's a private show, with her brother just a few doors down. it's fucking filthy, and makes him hot all over.
"you gonna suck me off?"
he'd found a way, though he feels semi paralyzed, to rid himself of his jeans, slowly jerking his dick as precum begins to trickle down his skin.
"want to, but i need your dick inside me," y/n says, all breathy and pent up, causing lando to groan as she crawls her way up his thighs.
"fuck, you're gonna kill me." his heart is accelerating in his chest, the libido in him heightens as y/n chuckles at him and takes his dick out of his own hand and he feels completely brainless.
"you ready?"
all he can muster is a nod, and then hot fucking tightness. their moans are akin in volume, elastic and lewd, and as y/n slips further down, lando's dick feels completely rock hard and throbs as he swears every gallon of his blood pools at his cock.
"fucking hell, you're tight, y/n," his mouth feels wet and dry simultaneously and he squeezes his eyes shut as she begins to roll her hips and press down hard.
she bounces and grinds like she's meant for it, and lando can't process that sweet, innocent y/n is bouncing on his dick, squeezing him like she wants to keep him there.
his hands grip her ass, thrusting upwards to meet her hips and the cacophony of slapping skin snaps any vocal composure in him. lando moans like he's being eaten by pleasure itself and y/n grinds and grinds and grinds.
"fuck, lando," her head is thrown back like it's completely broken, and lando preens.
"you're so fucking good for me, y/n, keep going," he can't hold back, feels his hands grip her hips and her ass careening into his thighs with every bounce and, fuck, it's so dirty and so good.
y/n looks slutted out, debauched as she splits herself on his cock. it sends lando tipping over the edge, about to cum fast and deep, when a harsh knocking pounds into the door.
they both freeze, panting as sweat licks heat into their flesh.
"for fuck's sake, keep it down! some people are trying to sleep!"
it's shortly followed by angry footsteps and a slam of a door.
lando, still hard and pulsating in y/n's cunt, has a face of bewilderment, "shit— i forgot he was there."
y/n turns back, smirking, and slowly rolling her hips again, "and continue to do so. now fuck me, lando."
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fuckaperioddrama · 24 days
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Tom Riddle Headcanons
Warnings: Toxic!Tom | Mentions of Sex | Mentions of BDSM | Mentions of Drugs/Alcohol | Mentions of Emotional Manipulation | Oral (Fem/Male Receiving) | Orgasm Denial | Let me know if I missed something!
Fem!Reader
Author's Note: Tom's headcanons are going to be a little serious. He isn't as easygoing as the other boys are.
Still delulu where it counts.
Proofread, not edited. Might have mistakes.
Theodore Nott Headcanons
Mattheo Riddle Headcanons
Lorenzo Berkshire Headcanons
Blaise Zabini Headcanons
Masterlist
Minors DNI | 18+
—-
Tom Riddle | Physique
6’3
He is just? Sturdy
Solid. | I don’t know how to define this. He just looks like he’d be hard to push. You need a lot of force to move Tom Riddle
I think he doesn’t have super-defined muscles, but he’s naturally strong. | Something in the Riddle genes, but let's be honest here. Do we really think Tom Riddle is dedicating any time to working out? I don't.
Long
Long arms, long legs, fingers, dick
Looks approachable | I actually feel like his face isn't that off putting. It's his eyes, demeanor, and reputation that make him scary.
Tom Riddle | Personality
I'm not thinking of Moldy Voldy, we are talking about Tom Riddle.
HE CAN ACTUALLY BE NICE SOMETIMES | Oop.
He's never nice to strangers unless he wants something, but can be exceedingly charming when he needs to be.
Very emotional. It's very easy to upset Tom Riddle, but he won't always show it in the moment. Sometimes he waits to strike back.
Extremely manipulative and fueled by quiet rage.
So smart, but that is largely due to the fact that most of his time is spent studying.
Is always top of the class. Especially because he secretly craves validation.
Unintentionally attaches himself to his male professors, always craving their validation more than his other professors. He spends a lot of time after class talking to them about the material and indirectly seeking praise for his understanding of it.
More of a loner, he doesn't talk a lot.
I lied when I said the whole group participates in gardening.
Tom does not smoke at all. No drugs of any kind. No cigarettes and no weed.
He does drink from time to time, but the most he'll allow himself to feel is a small buzz.
Very paranoid, always on high alert.
Hates parties, but he has attended a couple here and there
Tom Riddle | Casanova
Tom does hook up with people, but it's RARE
He'll randomly wake up one day feeling extremely horny. Not his typical horny, this kind is excruciating. He can't think, he can barely eat, and he's constantly fidgeting in his seat hoping that his robe is doing a good job at hiding his problem.
Those are the days he goes to parties and if there isn't one going on he'll find somebody and charm his way into obtaining whatever he wants.
He's Tom Riddle after all.
Sex is only about him. Doesn't care about foreplay. Little to no kissing. Straight to the point.
DOM AND ROUGH
Spanking choking, restraints, very into BDSM
Not so much degrading, but more commanding.
Get on your knees.
Open your legs. Wider.
Take it. All of it.
It turns him on when people obey him.
He won't talk to these people afterward, but he will have sex with them again.
No prior warning. He just suddenly appears and expects them to drop everything for him.
Tom Riddle | Friend
Tom isn't the worst friend??
Closest to his brother
Tom and Mattheo don't talk a whole lot, but sometimes Tom will check in on him.
He'll pick him up from a party if he's excessively drunk or high.
Leave detailed notes in his room whenever he misses class.
He does a lot for his brother but he doesn't talk about it. When Mattheo sees the notes on his desk or suddenly wakes up in his bed after a night out he knows it was his big brother.
He doesn't spend a lot of time with his friends outside of lessons and eating together occasionally.
He has these little moments where he suddenly feels lonely and then he'll show up to whatever outing they're on. It used to freak them out how he'd suddenly appear, but now they're used to it.
Tom does care about his friends, but he doesn't show it. Ever.
He probably never will.
Tom Riddle | Boyfriend
Tom's love is extremely obsessive
He has planned out every second of your lives together. Nothing and no one will come between those plans. Even you.
Quality Time
Everywhere Tom goes you go. He won't talk to you much, but he expects you to be there all of the time.
Genuinely gets upset if you try to spend time without him.
He walks you to and from your lessons, you have to sit next to him if your schedules match up, and sit next to him everywhere else too.
Tom is always nervous something is going to happen to you or that you're going to try to leave him so he keeps an eye on you at all times.
In those instances where you can't be together, Tom would drop everything for you instantly.
Since his love is fueled by obsession he is more than willing to put whatever he’s doing on pause if you need his help.
Tom does a lot for you and has a tendency to buy you things, especially if you’re upset with him in any way.
Intimacy is hard for him so he primarily shows his love through Acts of Service and Gift Giving
Tom Riddle's son vibes, not orphan Tommy
Tom does not give you these gifts personally. He just leaves them in your room. How did he get in there? You never know.
Tom doesn't know what kind of gifts you would normally buy your partner
I can actually see Tom secretly reading a romance novel or two just so he has an idea of what things boyfriends are 'supposed to do'
He thinks the way the characters acted was absolutely ridiculous, but at least he made an effort.
He still implements some of the things he learned about
Tom will buy flowers and jewelry but it's completely random.
He will do it on special occasions after learning that's the norm, but in terms of doing them on any regular day, it's something that just pops into his head from time to time.
He sees a flower on the ground and then suddenly he's thinking about buying you flowers.
Sees a piece of jewelry and so he goes out and buys you some. He needs visual reminders.
Then one day you come back to discover a bouquet or a box sitting on your bed.
You try to thank him, but he is not having it
You'll walk up to him all giddy after noticing the gift
Tha-
Don't mention it.
...
...You're welcome.
Tom would also handle all of your school supplies
He gets ahold of your list | Once again, no one knows how he does stuff. He merely does it | and he'll just go out and buy every book, quill, and piece of paper you need
He's not into PDA, but he would do public services for you.
He holds the door open, pulls out your seat, holds your belongings, and will just randomly help you with things without you having to ask
Very on top of your health.
Will always make sure you're taking care of yourself. He's the 'Did you drink water today?' boyfriend
Tom didn't really start caring about mental breaks before you. He'll work himself till he dies.
But Tom knows you. He knows your mind and your body. He is very in tune with your mental and physical needs.
Tom would study with you and make sure you're on top of your work, but he would implement breaks for your sake.
Tom! I said I don't know! I don't know! Obviously, you're not explaining it to me well enough. Can we just move on?
He just stares at you, not trying to hide his aggravation, and before you get the chance to apologize he's already stood from his seat collecting all of your belongings.
We're going to go get some fresh air.
I don't nee-
Yes, you do.
Tom would be annoyed by the fact that you can't study for 8 hours straight like him, but he wouldn't complain.
He knows he's built different. His girl needs breaks, so she gets breaks.
While walking through the castle from the library late at night Tom will sometimes place his hand on your back, Always saving the Physical Touch for when you're alone.
You would have to initiate most of the physical touch with Tom
He wouldn't reject it as long as it's done privately. Kissing his cheek while he's reading, resting on his lap while he studies, combing your hands through his hair while he's talking
Tom Riddle craves physical intimacy, he just won't ever admit to that.
If anyone were to ever catch you two when hugging or kissing he would obliviate them. Immediately.
Tom always initiates the cuddling when you two are about to go to sleep. Wrapping his arm around you as he pulls you flush against him. He likes to hold you very tightly when you're sleeping just to make sure he knows you're there. It's impossible for you to get up without alerting him first and that's just the way he likes it.
When both wake up you always stay in the position for a while. You both know the other person is awake, but no one is moving or talking.
Tom is most gentle in the mornings because that's when he knows his time alone with you is limited. At night he doesn't feel the same rush.
He always showers with you, washing your body gently and helping you style your hair.
He puts lotion on you, rolls your tights onto your legs, and buttons your shirt. Any excuse he can use to touch you in some way. | Kinda goes in with acts of service too.
Then before you leave for the day Tom will muster up the strength to finally do what he wants.
Holding you tightly as he kisses you, making sure to get his fill.
Words of Affirmation
Tom likes to praise you,
Especially if you're doing what you're supposed to be doing.
He always points out when you're doing a good job. Work-wise, personal goals, whatever. He will always acknowledge when you accomplish something
Looking over your shoulder as you complete your last assignment. Checking your answers as you write them down.
That's it. That's it.
Keep going.
Good girl.
Tom Riddle is another letter man. It's really hard for him to do things like tell you he loves you, call you beautiful, etc
He only gives you these letters on special occasions and hides them amongst the gifts he leaves you.
The main time he will convey his affection verbally is if you're angry at him.
He knows that since he doesn't say that kind of stuff often it always catches you off guard and he will use that to his advantage.
I love you.
Any anger you had fading as you stare at him in shock
I don't like it when we fight, darling.
I don't like it either.
Then maybe we should put our energy somewhere else.
Tom Riddle | Committed Lover
Tom was always horny, he just had restraint. That's why he didn't hook up that often.
With you?
He can't control himself and that makes him angry. He doesn't like feeling out of control.
Then there's the added fact that he doesn't like to touch you in public
HE GETS NEEDY
The second he can squeeze some alone time in with you you always end up bent over something, the sounds of your skin relentlessly clapping together and echoing through whatever space you're in.
Don't worry, he took measures to make sure you two have your privacy.
Tom becomes a whole new person when you guys have sex
Every impulse, every greedy touch, everything he has been wanting to do to you just comes out.
Still sticking to the fact that this man is ROUGH
He loves receiving. There's just something about seeing you on your knees, tears running down your face as he shoves his dick down your throat
Tom wasn't big on foreplay before, but he likes it with you because he gets to taunt you. He takes his time with foreplay.
As long as you were willing, Tom would have sex with you frequently and because of that, I think there would be a lot of giving too.
He likes those moments where he's in between your legs as his tongue takes long and slow movement up and down your slit.
You want more. You need more, but he won't give it to you until he feels like you worked hard enough for it.
Tommmmm...I'll be good. I'll do anything you want, just please go faster.
No.
DOM
If being on top is something you really want then he'll use it as a reward.
Still in control, there are bruises left on you from how tight his hands are gripping you.
Ass so sore you can't sit down the next day because he was spanking you the entire time, wanting to remind you who was really in charge.
Sometimes he has those moments where he lets go and allows himself to simply lay back and enjoy, but don't ever get too cocky.
Any teasing from you and you're on your back before you even get the chance to blink
Playtimes over, doll.
After he's done you're regretting everything you said to set him off
Tom can go all night long, he doesn't need sleep.
And after dating him for a while you don't need it either.
A/N: I really enjoyed writing Tom's headcanons. As always, let me know if you disagree! I like hearing all different takes.
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urhoneycombwitch · 10 days
Text
my baby puts his mouth on me
foreword: okay this is kind of written as a bonus scene for i know what they call you bc that version of reader deals with being quiet, too! (not necessary to read that one first but does provide a bit of context as far as interpersonal setting.) sort-of AU that ignores most s4 events. anon request can b found here 💖
wc: 2.2k
cw: discussions of college, shy!reader, oral + fingering (R receiving), R has breasts and a V, weed usage, softdom!Eddie, shifting POV a bit soz 
___
Somewhere between Eddie’s late nights at band rehearsal and your early morning diner shifts, you’ve both been too exhausted to properly fuck when you do see each other, barely time for a spare handjob in the past week. You’re crawling out of your skin by the weekend, missing and craving Eddie in equal measure.
So when your Saturday off happens to line up with his, Eddie makes an afternoon of it- picnic lunch on the shore of Lover’s Lake, lazing around in the August sun while your food settles, then stripping down to your underclothes (even though the spot Eddie scored was totally isolated, you’re still leery about skinny dipping) and cooling off with a quick dip in the lake.
You’re both sprawled out in the blanketed back of Eddie’s van, sun-warmed bodies pressed together, legs dangling out of the open rear door; smoke hangs hazy in the air from the joint being shared. 
“Almost end of summer,” Eddie says, nestling his nose into your neck, arms wrapping around your middle. He can’t look at you, dread unfurling in his stomach but needing to ask, to clear the air, to prepare in case this is one of the last times he gets to touch you like this- “Thinkin’ of going to any colleges?”
”Maybe.” One of your hands slides into Eddie’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp while the other lifts the joint to your lips for a long drag. “They love me at the diner and I make good tips, so I’ll prob’ly keep doing that. Can’t afford anything fancy, anyways- I’ll likely just go to Hawkins Community.”
You still haven’t told him the full story of the mall fire, yet- or about the underground world simmering beneath the surface. He never pushes you to share more than you’re comfortable, which you’re grateful for, but he knows something happened: something that paints your sleep with dark night terrors, something that causes you to slip in the middle of conversations, mind spiraling where he can’t follow. 
For reasons you can’t fully explain to Eddie, college is real low on your priority list- you’ve dedicated this summer to reconnecting with base instincts (weed and Pretty Boy being at the top of the list).
Meanwhile, Eddie tries to still the vibrant thrum of his heart at the news of you staying local, possibly for the next few years; he lifts his head to press his lips against your collarbone. “You should go to college. Jus’ try it out, at least. You’re certainly smart enough.”
“Mmm-” you hum around the joint, another inhale-exhale of smoke before murmuring, “So are you. For the record. We could apply to be nerds together, if you want-”
With a sharp gasp, your sentence drops out of midair when Eddie kisses over your nipple, already peaking through the thin material of your bra. In his hair, your grip tightens, and Eddie groans.
In one fluid movement, he props himself into his elbows on either side of your torso, bottom half of his weight pinning you in place, plucking the smoldering joint from your grasp to dampen it into a nearby ashtray.
“Gonna be my little student,” Eddie says, wet kisses trailing down your neck, flash of teeth making you squirm. “Get you some academic… skirts. The ones with the pleats. Maybe some stockings…”
“You’re so- oh, fuck- dirty…” It’s hard to keep the admonishment in your voice as Eddie noses between your thighs, bumping at your clit through the thin cover of high-cut cotton.
“Mm-hmm.” He seems pleased with the already-visible wet patch, your core leaking steadily as he burrows deeper, until all his senses are blacked-out with nothing but the sharp tang of your honeyed arousal- who needs weed. He could get high off your smell alone.
Eddie suckles at your throbbing clit, purring encouragement low in his throat when your hips jolt forward. “And you love it.”
He’s one deep inhale from being completely pussy-drunk, mouthing sloppily at the junction where thigh meets pelvis, nibble fingers toying at the band of your underwear. He slides them down and off your legs, and you let him, wiggling in anticipation against the pressure he’s keeping you pinned with.
“Could take an electrician course.” Well aware of how close to the wire this conversation is sliding, you let the crown of your head tip back, staring at the van’s ceiling, handfuls of the flannel floor blanket squeezed into fists as you try getting one last word in- “You’re good with your h- hands.”
Said hand is cupping your bare sex, warm and wide between the V of your legs, other hand pushing your thigh back to spread you wide, obscene and on display how Eddie likes; embarrassment blooms hot in your chest as he runs a finger through your folds, slick practically loud against the far-off backdrop of forest sounds.
“What was that about my hands?” He’s teasing now, can hear it in his voice even though you can’t see the lazy grin it’s paired with; a long middle finger breaches your entrance, wet warmth swallowing the length greedily.
Your eyes flutter shut, sighing. There will be a time for arguments again but right now, with a second finger addition and Eddie’s mouth working you up, there’s no room for speech.
On your end, at least- Eddie’s proven on multiple occasions to be a master at multitasking, talking you through it while managing your pleasure, and this afternoon is no exception. His fingers curl expertly into the gummy front wall of your cunt, mouth running every second it’s not latched on to your pulsing button, dirty talk smooth and easy in his low timbre.
“Yeah, honey, that’s it. Fuck, you’re so hot. Can feel you squeezin’ around my fingers, y’so tight, angel, shit… like that- there you go…”
Etcetera. Until he’s bullied his way completely into the cradle of your legs, lying flat on his stomach to get as close as possible; until your cunt is spasming around the push and pull of his fingers, wet dripping and pooling into his palm and down your ass to the blanket below.
There’s a familiar tightness coiling in your stomach, thighs bracing around Eddie’s ears in anticipation of the unraveling. A pleasure-soaked sob gets caught in your throat, dull whine escaping instead through clenched teeth, grip on the flannel doubling until your knuckles creak in protest.
“Hey.” 
There’s a confusing lack of authority or command in Eddie’s voice; you sift through the brain fog of arousal, propping your weight up into your elbows to look down at him.
Eddie looks crazy. Debauched. Lips pink and spit-soaked, chin shimmering, pupils blown out with lust as he presses a chaste kiss to the wiry curls at your mound. “Kinda quiet up there. Everything okay?”
His thumb sweeps a comforting path up the soft skin of your thigh, the abrupt switch from animal to gentleness making your head swim. He’s still looking at you with those puppy-brown eyes, fingers still buried to the hilt but unmoving; you stammer out an excuse.
“Um- yeah. M’sorry. It’s just been awhile, since you’ve had me… like this.”
It’s the truth; over the last busy week in your lives, time has eroded some of what Eddie’s been working on building with you, bravery at making noise faded with the lessened practice time.
“No one else out here, ‘cept you and me, sweetheart.” Eddie’s coaxing his fingers back into steady rhythm, watching your face carefully for any signs of withholding. “Can make as much noise as you want. Lemme hear. Please?”
Usually, Eddie’s not so soft- a sharp crack of palm to ass, flesh jiggling as he draws all the noises he wants from you- but here, in the back of the van, heady weed and warm sun an intoxicating mixture as he asks you to melt for him. 
You obey. Let the floor take your upper body’s weight again as you fuck yourself on his fingers, hips lifted and seeking release. His mouth seals over your clit again, tip of his tongue lashing quick and precise against it, frizz of his curls tickling the insides of your legs as he shakes his head.
The weed is certainly a help as trapped noises heave from your chest, mouth falling open, lax and pliant with moans. “Oh, my god, Eddie. Fuck. Holy shit. Hah- right there, please, don’t stop-”
As if he would. Eddie moans in tandem with you, his own hips chasing the maddening pressure of the floorboards against the hard jut of his cock, leaking through the front of his boxers as he adds a third finger, spurred on by the fountain of breathy words this pulls from you-
“Oh god, oh god- f-fuck- Eddie, Eddie Eddie Eddie-”
Your speech devolves into a mindless, babbling chant of his name. That coil pulls taut, has you crunching forward in a half sit-up, hands fisting at the roots of Eddie’s hair to hold him in place (perhaps harsher than you intend but based on the way his hips stutter and grind, you can safely hazard a guess that he’s into it). 
The pattern breaks when he grazes his teeth against the pulsing nub in his mouth; you have just enough time to gasp out, “I- I’m coming, Eddie, shit, m’gonna come-” before the orgasm hits you full-force.
There isn’t room in your brain to hide all the noise that threatens to suffocate, so you let them all out, muscles tightening and flexing around every bright point of pleasure that he fucks you through. High-pitched whines, panting that wracks your lungs, a moan to top it all off that feels like it comes from your toes. 
“Jesus christ.” Eddie swipes the back of his hand over his mouth, sounding wrecked himself as he climbs back over your body, silver chain necklace and dark curls swinging in front of your blissed-out face. “Fuck, princess. That was so hot.”
“Yeah?” Bashfulness hasn’t fully settled in yet, you’re still loopy from the force of your pleasure, arms slipping over the boy’s freckled shoulders as he leans down to kiss you.
His tongue has a bright tang of you, as you lick into his mouth, one hand leaving his shoulder to trail down his chest. Dark ink whorls beneath your fingertips as you reach the scratchy trail of hair just before his boxers-
“Shit.” Eddie hisses, forehead thunking into yours when you palm the hard length of him, precum soaking through the fabric, softness of your palm contrasting with the damp and rough drag of cotton. His long lashes tickle your cheek, eyes fluttering closed, soft exhale magnified by close proximity as he slowly pushes into your hand. 
You’re mildly surprised he hasn’t come, yet- usually Eddie gets off on getting you off, then uses the rest of his energy to make you both come again, together. 
What Eddie hasn’t told you yet is that he’s done some prep of his own, this week: every night you haven’t spent in his bed, his own spit-slicked fist has taken him right to the edge, stopping just short of coming with a choking grip at the base. The idea was to build up his stamina a bit, to take advantage of lonely evenings in service to a future you.
A very noble cause that is quickly being forgotten as your hand moves with more intent and pressure against his aching cock- the drug haze is almost enough to have him completely at your mercy, to tuck his nose into the curve of your neck and find sweet release by way of your pretty palm.
But he recovers. Get just enough distance from the warmth of you to clear his mind and snake his own hand down between your bodies to capture your twisting wrist. 
The protest dies on your lips when Eddie brings your hand to his mouth, sucking your middle and index finger against the pad of his tongue, saturating your digits in spit.
“Here’s what you’re gonna do.” His eyes stay locked on yours, even as he guides your newly-wet fingers back down your bodies to rest atop your cunt. “You’re gonna touch yourself until you come. Again. And if I feel like you’re holding out on me with your noises, I’m gonna make it real difficult for you to make any noise. At all.”
A thrilling shiver races up your spine, goosebumps prickling in response to the shift in Eddie’s tone. His eyes flick to your lower lip, which he bites, unable to help himself, before following the path of your hand south.
There will be time for unwinding the past, for dreaming about the future. For now, there’s a boy between your legs and the feverish glow of summer calling your name. 
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elsweetheart · 1 year
Text
what you heard : part one
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synopsis: you start to develop feelings for your boyfriends dealer.
♪ what you heard — sonder ♪
cw: reader is a bisexual woman dating a man, brief descriptions of having sex with a man, weed, alcohol, ellie’s sexual thoughts, blink and you miss it mention of throwing up, a man being really mean and a bad boyfriend, gay girl drama, ellie is kind of a homewrecker but reader doesn’t technically cheat, but mentions of it. kind of angsty at times? a little?
an: whew this is kinda lengthy !! idk how many words so… don’t ask me :( i hope you all enjoy it! i’ll start writing part two asap!
Ellie didn’t hate any of her customers, no. That would be bad for business. She just simply… preferred some over the others. Louis was one of those customers that she wouldn’t exactly reserve her best weed for. Not originally, at least. He was like a lot of the other guys on campus, average. Brown hair with the same old outfits, love of sports, and friend group. She could find one hundred of him. She kept a pretty exclusive clients list, not wanting to overwhelm herself with business whilst she’s really trying this year to stay on top of her studies. He wasn’t the most polite, and he was always showing up without texting first — but he paid, and that was good enough to keep him on as a customer.
Alright, maybe that wasn’t really the reason Ellie kept him on as a customer.
She always liked to check out the social media accounts of the people she sold to, try and figure out what kind of person they were, who they knew, and if they seemed like the type to give her up if a cop came knocking. Also, simply put — the girl was nosy. Don’t let her nonchalant demeanour fool you, her Insta-stalking skills rivalled the FBI. She knew she probably shouldn’t, and she did feel a little weird doing it — scrolling on her bed one evening in a hoodie and basketball shorts, she typed in Louis’ name to the Instagram search bar.
He had one picture up of you, the rest were pictures of him and his friends at parties. Real classy, she thought. She clicked the picture, wondering what kind of girl would have to be desperate enough to go out with a guy this… meh, and oh… Oh. You were smoking hot. It was a halloween throwback, a basic couple costume with Louis dressed as the devil and you, ironically enough dressed as an angel. He kept his sweaty pink hand on the curve of your ass as the two of you laughed. She wondered what was funny. He got lucky, she thought. Very lucky.
Ellie tapped you, and a tag emerged on the screen with your name. Pretty name, of course. Private account — much to her disappointment.
It would be totally inappropriate to follow you, right? Her customers girlfriend. Ellie clicked her own profile, gazing at it thoughtfully. Her profile picture was a black screen, and she had zero pictures up on her account. She had a considerable amount of followers, given her reputation but she didn’t follow many back — just a few very loyal customers, and her best friends Jesse and Dina. It would be weird to follow you right? Yes. Very weird, Ellie. She closed out the app, and pretty much forgot about it.
It was always the same exchange with Louis. He turned up, either unannounced or 2 hours late — burp, demand weed whilst barely sparing Ellie a glance or a thank you, and then head out. She didn’t always mind — not being a huge fan of small talk anyway, though she could do without the burp. He’d had texted earlier in the day, asking — no, telling Ellie that he would be passing by to pick up his usual ‘at some point’. A quiet knock rapt at the door around 02:23PM. Ellie swung the door open, coming face to face with you.
“Hi… Ellie?” You smiled. Hopeful, sweet, even prettier in person. You were wearing a little sundress with the cheap thin material that hugged every curve on your body, and if she stared a little longer like she wanted to she’d start to border on creepy. Ellie cleared her throat, fighting out a greeting and praying it would come out relatively normal.
“Yeah.” Was what she landed on. Whatever, play it cool. Pretend you didn’t try and stalk her Instagram.
“Louis isn’t coming, the weed is for me and he told me where to buy from, so… hi.” You grinned before telling her your name like she didn’t already know it.
“Hey. I’m Ellie.” And with that, she stepped aside and let you in.
It was like you brought the sunshine in from outside with you, because as soon as you stepped into her room Ellie felt too warm in her grey hoodie. She pushed the sleeves up as your eyes flickered around her dorm, realised she felt stupid and pushed them back down.
“How much you want?” She was pulling out the metal box from her drawer, glancing up at you as your brows furrowed unsurely — thinking as you tugged at your glossed lip. Ellie tried not to stare.
“Uh—” You breathed, and it relaxed Ellie slightly to see that you seemed more nervous than she did somewhat— just for a different reason. “Louis told me to just ask for what he usually gets? I’m sorry, I’ve never bought my own weed before.” You cringed, and then cringed again at the word choice. Ellie smiled fade into a soft chuckle with a nod that said ‘I bet you haven’t.’ She should have guessed, when did pretty girls ever buy their own weed?
“You’re good. I know what his usual is.” Ellie reassured, digging around in the nuggets. She pulled a couple out, placing them down on her scale before bagging them up. You held out your hand unsurely, and she pressed the plastic baggie into it. Your mouth opened to say something, and Ellie’s hand froze above yours as she watched you — trying to work out what might be wrong. “What? Is this not…”
“No, sorry. It’s perfect. I assume. I’m not sure. I just… I don’t know how to roll these. Lou told me to buy my own weed seeing as I am the one who wanted to smoke and — it’s okay. I’ll just Google it.” You shook your head, feeling your cheeks turn warm at your own rambling. Ellie stopped you as you went to shove the baggie into her pocket with a calm smile, raising her eyebrows as if to say ‘Hey, it’s okay. Chill.’
“I can roll it for you. It’s no biggie.”
You visibly relaxed, and Ellie could tell because of the way your chest collapsed slightly, not suffocating your tits against the material of your dress anymore which she couldn’t help but glance at as you looked away. “Thanks. Sorry.” You guffawed, your embarrassment seeming a little relieved as you stepped back, leaning against her desk as she pulled her chair and tray out to do the rolling.
“Louis not buying your weed for you?” She conversed, eyes on the rolling paper as she carefully packed it. Your head snapped towards her, realising that you were the one who blabbed that. Her eyes glanced up at you briefly when you didn’t immediately answer.
“No. It’s… okay though.” You justified, a mass of shame swirling just below your rib cage. You didn’t wanna talk shit about your boyfriend to a stranger, even if the stranger had a totally welcoming vibe about her — and your boyfriend was cheap. Ellie tsk’d lightheartedly, shaking her head. “Against the rules, man.” She comment quietly.
“What rules?” You furrowed your brows defensively as she continued packing.
“You don’t let your girl buy her own weed?” She repeat obviously. Something about the way she said it made the embarrassment in your stomach dissipate into butterflies, which widened your eyes slightly at the disloyal feeling.
“Oh.”
Silence for a beat or two as Ellie concentrate. You notice the lesbian flag on her pinboard.
“It’ll probably just be me and my friends that smoke it anyway. The weathers nice so we’ll be at one of those frat pool parties… You don’t go to those?” You tilt your head, and her eyes lingered on you as you did so at the sugary sweetness in your gesture. God, you made her teeth hurt.
“Nah. I hear those things get weird and horny. Straight people… no offence.” She glances towards you once more, the ‘no offence’ holding little to no weight. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to give a shit about offence, anyways.
“I’m bisexual, but I understand.” You giggle, pushing yourself back to sit more on her desk, swinging your legs as you watch her roll. Her fingers froze for just a moment, before she continued rolling.
“Oh yeah?” She conversed, absolutely despising how a flame of hope flickered in her chest. Nope. Not doing this again.
“Yeah, actually I…” You chuckled. “I started college with the hopes of finding a girlfriend. Things just… didn’t end up that way I guess.” You shrugged, and you seemed happy enough but Ellie could sense the disappointment buried deep.
“Huh.” Ellie let out as she licked the rolling paper, firmly closing it up. She kind of hoped you were watching her as she did so. You weren’t. “You know if you squint really hard Louis could be a lesbian.”
“Really?” You raise an eyebrow.
“Nope.” Ellie pushed her chair back, standing. You chuckled and she smirked, pushing the two pre rolls she’d made into a bigger baggie and then presenting them to you. “This gonna be enough?”
“Oh yeah, I’m a total lightweight.” You giggled girlishly and she nodded, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she watched you fish around in your purse, unzipping an inside pocket to stuff the rolls inside.
“Cute.” She let slip with a smile, and your heart fluttered a little. You berated yourself for that silently.
“What extra do I owe you? Do you charge for rolling or… I don’t know how this usually works.” You pulled out your pink zip up wallet, the zip a glittery jewel between your fingers.
“Nah. No extra charge.” She held her hands up and you raised your eyebrows in surprise. That was a lie. She did usually charge extra for that, but one thing about Ellie was that she was a sucker for the pretty girl discount.
“Really?” And out came the doe eyes, your dark heavy eyelashes weighty above your pretty eyes as you looked up at her in awe. It was Ellie’s hearts turn to flutter.
“Really.” She smirked, not breaking eye contact (much to her surprise) as she pinched the cash payment from you between her pointer and middle finger knuckles, only swallowing down the giddiness when your fingers brushed hers. You grinned, zipping your wallet back up and tucking it away, feet tapping on the floor a little like you just couldn’t contain your excitement (Which made Ellie want to squeeze you.)
“I know you said it’s not your thing, but you should come to one of the pool parties. Most of the time the people there are cool. It’ll be good for business.” You wiggled your eyebrows which made Ellie’s smile uncontainable, teeth actually on display now which she honestly never did. No one was ever funny or cute enough.
“Maybe.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, walking you towards her door.
“They happen every weekend. Would be cool to see you there.” You fixed your bag over your shoulder before turning back to her. “Nice to meet you, Ellie. You’ll be seeing more of me.” You nodded formally, and the auburn haired girl tore her eyes away from the visible band of your underwear through the material of the dress when you looked back at her, muttering a “Good.”
Ellie always came away from these kind of things wishing she said more. She knew you had a boyfriend, but something about you seemed more curious. Like you weren’t totally against the idea of flirting back. Maybe it was all in her head because of the stupid crush she’d already developed. She didn’t understand it, how could someone like you feel fulfilled by someone like him. Ellie would never let you pay for your own weed, she’d treat you right. She had the means to be able to spoil you, which she didn’t need proof to know that Louis didn’t. Hell, he couldn’t even pay for his girls weed — Ellie knew stingy when she saw it. He probably wasn’t even making you cum. Not like Ellie could anyway, but then again who could? She’d like to think she had a gift — but maybe it was a guitarist-fingers thing, and years of deftly rolling tight joints.
Ellie shook her head free of the thought — sure she was a little grey-moralled — but thinking about finger fucking one of your customers girlfriends on a sunny afternoon felt a little wrong even for her. She was heading off to meet Dina to exchange notes for a class she missed, again just about willing herself to stay focused this semester. The two of them chat over coffee, the notes barely touched as the two friends joked around. When a pensive silence filled the space between them, Ellie spoke up — picking at a hangnail in a way she hoped was casual.
“You ever been to those campus pool parties? The ones at that douchey frat house?” She shrugged, glancing up at her darker haired friend.
“Uh, yeah. Like once or twice.” Dina frowned before snickering, raising a doubtful eyebrow. “What, you interested? You don’t even enjoy regular parties, hermit.”
Ellie’s jaw dropped slightly in offence, letting out a scoff before taking a sip of her coffee — still scalding hot on her tongue. “Excuse me. I’d be there strictly on business. I heard it’s… I was told I should go.” She explained. Dina’s smirk deepened, eyes lowering into slits.
“Who is she?”
“Why do you assume this is about a girl?” She rolled her jewelled eyes, before glancing around the cafe just incase anyone was listening to her pathetic segue into talking about you.
“Because last time I suggested you come with me and Jesse you nearly threw a textbook at my head.” Dina argued, making Ellie sit back in her seat, looking away in defeat as she crossed her arms over her light grey hoodie.
“She’s got a boyfriend. So it doesn’t matter. Just said it would be good for business and… the customer is always right, so I’ve been told.” Ellie rushed out, Dina’s shoulders dropping with a pitying look.
“Oh Ellie. Why put yourself through that?”
“She’s bi — okay stop. This isn’t about her. I was just asking. Fuckin’… forget it.” Ellie flipped the page of her notes now, going to scribble down what Dina had written to get her mind off the conversation.
“Alright, alright.” Her friends held up her hands. “Defensive.”
Ellie didn’t see Louis much from that point on. Same time, every week — you would be on her doorstep. Ellie wasn’t sure if it was just out of convenience, or maybe you had wanted to see her. You had the same spritely, sunshine attitude each time you stepped into her dorm — lighting it up with your smile and your pretty dresses. The auburn haired dealers heart was beginning to ache in a painfully familiar way. An unrequited crush, a girl she couldn’t have. She wished she could say this was the first time she’d crushed on a girl with a boyfriend — but that would be a lie.
Each time you left, the giddiness would fade out into a prickly, warm and uncomfortable anger settling in at the pit of her stomach. Occasionally, you’d let slip the way Louis treat you — and if you didn’t say it, she could tell by the look on your face when his name would come up. Your classes were stressing you out, hence needing her weed to unwind in the first place, and your boyfriend was doing nothing to ease your anxiety, instead choosing to go out and get wasted with his friends each night. You deserved better, and she knew it wasn’t her place to say but shit, it was killing her. You were killing her. She could treat you better.
From outside the frat house, she could hear music, laughter, and water splashing from down the street. Ellie stood with Dina and Jesse, already regretting her decision.
“Fuck this. I’m turning around.” Ellie attempted to swivel, but Jesse grabbed her arm.
“No you’re not. You’re here to sell, remember? Got a friend with money, said he’d pay you good.” He gave her a light shove towards the door, Dina rolling her eyes at the two’s antics. Ellie felt overdressed, wearing her short sleeved blue worn denim shirt unbuttoned over a wife beater and shorts with her Converse, pockets stuffed with pre-rolls gifting her that usual marijuana infused smell that followed her around that said ‘Hey everyone! I’m a dealer!’ Upon stepping out into the backyard, it was clear what kind of party it was. The sun was still shining, and people seemed pretty drunk already — jumping off the low roof and into the pool, girls on the outskirts squealing in their bikinis. The floor was practically vibrating with the bass from a Drake song and the sun was sizzling the back of Ellie’s neck — recipe for a headache, she thought. She’d sell her shit, and get out.
She knew you’d be here. In the back of her mind she knew. And yet, her heart still damn near thudded out her chest when you were suddenly right in front of her, arms extended with a big toothy grin. Ellie had almost panicked, not ready for the confrontation. She hadn’t even gotten herself a drink yet, hadn’t even smoked yet and here you were. You were wearing a white bikini and it looks so pretty against your soft skin. She was looking at your tits again.
Ah, shit.
“Ellie! M’so happy you came! I didn’t think I’d ever see you at one of these!” You all but squealed, throwing your arms around her neck and pulling your body taut against hers. Ellie didn’t have to look at Dina and Jesse to know that their eyebrows were practically in their hairline, taking in the scene in front of them. Your bikini top was damp still clearly having taken a dip in the pool earlier, along with the ends of your hair and she felt the wet triangles pressing damp spots into her own chest, your tits pressed up against her. You even had the nerve to let out a happy little ‘mmph’ moan as your body collided with hers. Were you really that happy to see her? God, if I had a dick right now, it would be rock fuckin’ hard. Thank fuck I don’t, Ellie thought— eyes opening again, not realising that she had squeezed them shut to suppress a moan when she’d hugged you back.
“Uh, yeah! Told you I’d consider it.” She tried to play it cool when she pulled back, taking in your giggly expression. You didn’t let go of her arm as you pulled away, and a waft of alcohol drifted through to Ellie’s nose, suddenly helping her understand the situation a little better. You were pretty drunk, but where was your boyfriend? Ellie scanned behind you, searching for his brunette mop only to be met with several dozens of them. Great. She felt a spike of anger in her chest again, violently protective. Who just leaves their girl wandering around in a bikini, drunk, at a frat party? “Wheres your little boyfriend?” Her expression flattened out, and she caught herself. She didn’t mean for it to come out like… that. Luckily, you were drunk enough to not notice the bitterness in her tone.
“Louis? Oh— uh…” Your bottom lip stuck out as you spun around on your tiptoes to see over heads, scanning the yard for him before spinning back with a shrug. You dropped back down onto the balls of your feet and your tits bounced in Ellie’s peripheral vision. “Who knows.” You giggle, eyes jumping to Ellie’s two friends, silently watching with amused smirks.
“Oh, uh— these are my friends. Dragged me along here. Dina,” She pointed. “And Jesse.” He gave you a little wave.
“Hi!” You chirped with an adorable little wave, before telling them your own name. “I’m not usually this…uh—”
“Drunk?” Ellie leant forward quietly with a smirk, like it was a secret just between the two of you. You giggled, turning back to her, introductions long forgotten as your face morphed into a theatric pout, blown out puppy dog eyes and all.
“Who says I’m drunk? Maybe I’m just really friendly.” You practically pur, suggestiveness dripping off your tone as your hand pulled her by her arm just that little bit closer, soft fingertips over her tattoo. Just as Ellie scrambled for an answer — your name was called in a familiar voice. Louis.
“Babe, there you are.” He sounded irritated, and Ellie straightened her back, jaw squaring ever so slightly. Be friendly, Ellie. He’s a customer — she remind herself. A shitty one, but he still pays you.
“Oh…” He took Ellie in, eyes jumping over her attire before glancing back at you. She just admit, she did look violently lesbian that day — and the body language between her and his girl wasn’t looking all too great to fresh eyes. “Hey.”
You reluctantly let go of Ellie’s arm, which didn’t go unnoticed by the brunette boy.
“I was just catching up with Ellie!” You grinned, and God — were you aware of just how flirtatious you looked batting your eyelashes up at her like that? In front of your boyfriend?
“Yeah, I see that.” Louis’ eyes didn’t leave Ellie’s, which of course she took as a competition without even thinking. She took a step closer, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She stood around 5’7. Taller when she wore boots. Taller if she fixed her posture. He wasn’t much taller than her, so she pretty much met his eye. Her heart skipped a few beats knowing you were watching her, but she held his gaze anyway— tilting her chin up a little. “Thanks for looking after my girl.” He spoke, which almost made Ellie want to laugh.
“Any time.” Eye to eye, the smirk that tugged at her lips held more meaning and the two of you knew it. Oh, she’d look after you alright. Louis’ eyes flickered away, glancing over at Dina and Jesse before back to her, stepping away and putting an arm around your shoulder.
“Come watch me play beer pong?” He spoke to you and you shrugged happily, taking the drink out of his hand and sipping. The freckled dealer couldn’t help but briefly think about how if you were with her she would have cut you off by this point, wrapping an arm around your waist and telling you that you’d had enough to drink, maybe suggest grabbing you a water. As he lead you away, you craned in his hold to wave at Ellie, who waved a few fingers back— watching closely. It was a casual crush before, but now it was on. She didn’t like Louis’ smugness, nor his general attitude or the way he was neglecting you. She had to take you and leave him with nothing. No, Ellie. You’re being like him. She’s not a piece of meat. But she knew the protectiveness didn’t stem from that. Did she think about you sexually? Yeah. But she could give you more than that. You were a sweet girl, and you should be treated as such.
“That was tense.” Dina raised her eyebrows, breaking the auburn haired girls concentration, her gaze snapping back to her friends.
“Oh, uh — he’s fuckin’… weird. I dunno. I give him my shitty weed.” She shrugged it off, looking over her shoulder once more to watch you disappear inside.
“I get it now, though. She’s a total smoke show.” Dina dropped her hand onto Ellie’s shoulder who sighed, shaking off the whole interaction.
“Whatever. I need a drink.” Ellie rolled her eyes, stepping away.
“She was hot.”
“Jesse, it’s okay when I say it. Not when you say it.”
“What? You just called her a smoke show! You’ve never called me that.”
Ellie left the bickering couple behind to find a beer, needing something cool and alcoholic to wind her down. Why was she getting so possessive over someone that wasn’t hers? You were making her feel like a creep, and she didn’t like that. Ellie did not catch feelings easily, despite her past mistakes. So like… what the fuck?
She didn’t see you for two weeks.
Maybe you’d realised you shouldn’t be giving her the eyes. Maybe Louis stepped up his game, who knows. Neither of you had even purchased any weed, and it was approaching exam season so Ellie knew you were stressed. But did she know? Was it presumptuous of her to ‘know’ how you feel?Just based off several occurrences and conversations when you’d come to her dorm to pick up? She tried to shake the feeling of you, your skin grazing hers and your pretty eyes staring up at her — and it was actually working. Maybe time does heal everything. Until of course, she went to the library and the clocks reversed on themselves.
She had to admit, she was falling a little behind in her work. She had gotten so preoccupied in selling that she had almost forgotten to be, well… a student. Her backpack was making her shoulder sore so she switched it to the other as she wandered through the building, fairly quiet for a Tuesday. She felt a pit of irritation bud inside her when she saw someone sat in the seat she wanted, the one that was away from everyone else in the library. She note the pink laptop case, the Hello Kitty stickers on the water bottle, the bracelets on the protruding arm. Oh, it was you.
Ellie was planning to walk on by. You’re here to do work, not flirt or get yourself involved in some kind of sapphic shenanigan. Your head was on the desk, and she figured you had fallen asleep — which almost made her smile fondly before she caught herself. Not yours, Ellie. As she stepped away however, she heard a sniffle. Then another. Ellie froze, willing herself not to do it. It’s not your responsibility Ellie, you can walk away and pretend you never saw. She pursed her lips, turning around anyway.
As she did so, you were lifting your head from the table, wiping your cheeks and nose of tears. You had this pitiful pout on your face, streaming eyes all pink and glossy and your nostrils damp in this oddly adorable way. Ellie still had time to creep away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.
“You uh… you good?” She stood awkwardly, making you snap your head towards her in surprise. She didn’t miss the way your eyes widened slightly in embarrassment at seeing a familiar face in such a vulnerable moment.
“Oh — Ellie. Um, yes. I’m fine.” You tried, but when you held her doubtful gaze — your lip wobbled again.
“Okay.” Ellie sighed after a beat, pulling up a seat and dragging it to your small table. Yep, she was doing this. “Talk to me.” She spoke in a hushed tone. She was so gentle with her voice and her eyes and her general demeanour — something you weren’t so used to — it soothed you enough to calm you for a moment and you revelled in the unfamiliar but warm feeling she brought you.
“I don’t wanna bore you with it.” You shook your head with an demure chuckle. Ellie wanted to reach forward and wipe your tears away, her hands itched on the table in-front of her instead.
“We’re literally in the library. I promise you that nothing is more boring than my text-book.” She raised an eyebrow with the attempts of making you laugh. Instead, you watched her for a moment. Ellie could tell you were wondering why she was being so nice to you. Does she treat all her customers this way?
“It’s… stupid. Louis just…” You sigh, as if the mere mention of his name makes you cringe. “We’re not that serious. So… I don’t care what he goes off and does in his spare time,” Interesting, Ellie noted. “But he gets really mad. And when he gets mad he gets mean. I guess I just need thicker skin.” Your voice cracked.
“Or you need to be with someone who’s not an asshole.” Ellie snipped before she got the chance to stop herself. Your eyes met hers again, a little wide in shock. “Sorry.” She closed her eyes, collecting herself. You blinked and two fat tears rolled down your cheeks.
“It’s… okay.” You whispered, playing with your bracelet. A silence sat between you two, just the sound of quiet shuffling in the library and your sniffs.
“Look, don’t let him get to you. You don’t… deserve that.” She shook her head and you nodded slowly, accepting. It was as if Louis were purposely giving her more reason to dislike him, and it was getting harder to hide her distaste for him. Snide comments were slipping out more frequently, Shit — she could barely even contain her facial expressions when his name was mentioned. Something had to be done soon, because she didn’t know how much ‘pretending’ she had left in her. Thankfully, the two of you seemed to have developed a bit of a friendship — so she felt less guilty about bashing your boyfriend, as you seemed understanding due to his often unlikeable ways.
“You done here soon?” Ellie looked around at the library. You wiped your cheek, hitting save on your laptop and shrugging.
“Didn’t really have any work to do, just didn’t know where to go.” You pout sadly, making Ellie have to dig her nails into her seat this time so that she didn’t lean forward and kiss it off you.
“Y’wanna smoke? On me. You need cheering up.” She stood up, swinging her backpack back on, studying long forgotten. You looked up at her hopefully, a glint of reluctance in your eye. You didn’t know why it felt wrong, you weren’t technically doing anything wrong. Just two friends hanging out, right? Louis wouldn’t know that you’re attracted to her. You wasn’t even sure if Louis remembered that you were bisexual for Gods sake, despite telling him a whole bunch of times.
“Really? I can pay you Ellie…” Your eyebrows knit together, and she was already shaking her head.
“My treat. I don’t like seeing pretty girls cry. Makes me wanna cry. You want me to cry?” She joked, pointing at herself in disbelief. She felt relief at the giggle that made its way out your throat, covering your mouth as to not disturb the other library goers. Pretty girls. The words echoed around your head until your face was hot before it dropped into your stomach and made a nest there.
“Okay.” You agreed after a moment. What harm could it do? Louis was an asshole, and the guilt began to slip away as you stood up — remembering all the nasty things he’d said to you.
“Alright, good.” Ellie grinned, turning her face away for a moment so maybe you wouldn’t see how excited she was. You did.
_
“Thats a terrible first high story.” You giggled, taking a draw from the joint.
“What? Fuck you let’s hear yours then!” Ellie gaped, leaning forward from her seat on her bed to take the joint from you as you exhaled. You bit back your smile, letting your pink, watery eyes sail off in thought at you recalled your first time smoking.
“Kay, so… I was 17.” You staged dramatically, widening your eyes slightly as she smirked at your theatrics, leaning back with her eyes glued to you. If you weren’t so blazed, maybe you’d feel nervous under her simmering gaze. “Best friends brother let us smoke some in the backyard with his friends. I tried to play it cool, but I smoked too much and start laughing and I couldn’t stop. Like — it was painful, and I was scared because I couldn’t stop laughing. And they were all looking at me like what the fuck… so I went inside, tried to calm myself down and I threw up on the carpet. Like a distressed cat.” You pouted lightheartedly as Ellie chuckled along with your story.
“Threw up? How strong was the weed? Damn.” She laughed and you shook your head.
“It might have been the shots we’d done before hand to calm our nerves. Bad idea.” You cringed and she nodded, eyes still piercing into you as her laughter died down.
“That might’ve been it, yeah.”
A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as she brought the joint to her lips once again, sucking in as she inhaled the pungent smoke. Ellie always got this confidence about her when she smoked. Well — she always had this slightly cocky demeanour about her, but for the most part it was an act. A need to protect herself. A defence mechanism that helped her get by — being a dealer was a social ass job. But smoking made that feeling real. She knew that was bad, relying on weed for real confidence and all, but hey — she’ll take what she can get.
“How you feeling? Any better?” She tested the waters, almost sorry she brought it up when you remembered Louis’ existence, expression melting a little into one of slight disappointment. One that said ‘Oh yeah… him.’ Like you’d forgotten for a moment.
“I guess. Not gonna let it bother me like you said. I don’t have the energy.” You shrugged, tearing your gaze away to study your baby pink manicure instead. Ellie scoffed out a little chuckle, finally stubbing out the joint. The noise attracted your attention and you met her analytical stare.
“Can I… ask what you see in that guy? Not judging just… curious.” She held her hands up in defence, but you didn’t exactly jump to his rescue. Infact it took you a moment to think about it.
“I don’t…” You stop yourself from saying ‘I don’t know’, your pride still burning despite the weed letting your guard down. “He’s… nice most of the time. Kinda guy your parents want you to bring home. He’s not as bad as he seems around other people. I guess he makes me feel wanted when we’re together?” You consider, but the way you say it makes Ellie think that you don’t even fully believe it. “I think… it was gonna be just sex. When I first met him anyway, but if I’m being totally honest the sex isn’t worth it on its own so I dunno… I thought I’d feel more fulfilled by a commitment, you know?”
Ellie was delighted, to be honest. It was music to her ears. You were just spewing about how unfulfilled you were, and she was starting to feel more and more confident that she could convince you that there was a bigger and better world out there. She laughed, openly — letting the joy of the moment go to her head for a minute.
“Oh that’s funny?” You giggled back, chucking a small brown sentimental looking teddy bear at her from her bed. You pursed your lips and she could tell despite your laughter you were knocked slightly insecure by her reaction.
“A little.” She looks off to the side. You want to chuck something else at her but there’s nothing to throw.
“Why?” You push. You know why.
“Your boyfriend can’t fuck.” Her stomach tensed as another laugh bubbled up and you rolled your eyes theatrically, pushing yourself up just so you can dramatically change your position to face the other way on the bed, arms crossed and brow creased.
“Not opening up to you again.” You push out and she nudges you gently with her foot, a more sympathetic (yet equally amused) expression still at the surface.
“No, I’m sorry. Go on.” She waved her a hand a little in the smoky room, nudging you again with her sock covered toe.
“Thats it! There’s nothing else to it. My boyfriend can’t fuck and it sucks. I hate everything.” You complain, not daring to face her. She can’t help but burst out laughing again, the back of her head leaning back to rest on the wooden headboard as she runs a hand over her eyes, shielding herself from the bright dorm light, and you. She lets out an ‘ahhh’ at the end of her outburst.
She hears you whine her name, and she takes more pity on you this time purely because you sound so cute.
“Alright uh— tell me what he’s doing wrong. I’ll give you pointers to give to him so he can fix his shit.” She tries suddenly, as if just being struck by the idea — and she feels you slowly look at her. She pushes her chin down to her chest, looking at you now as she removes her hand from her eyes. You blink at her a couple of times, still pretty, still high as a kite.
You inhale through your nose, eyes drifting off in thought as you turn back towards her, invested, tucking your feet beneath your ass. You hum, coming up blank. “I don’t know. I feel like… you either got it or you don’t, you know? Sex is… emotional. Well, it should be. To him it’s just… getting off.” You shrug, opting to pick at a loose thread on her grey bed throw than look at her. The smirk is still dying on her lips like the slither of sunlight resting on water at the culmination of a sunset. She takes a little longer to think, brain fogged by her high.
“So… okay.” She pushes her palms into the bed to sit up a little more. “What do you like? I don’t really pin you as someone who… wants to be in control.” She analyses, watching you carefully for a reaction. She notices the flick up of your eyebrows and guesses — correct.
“With him there’s no… no one is in control. It’s not one person calling the shots or any kind of dynamic it’s just… we just fuck and that’s it.” You sound sad this time, like bringing the conversation to forefront was making you realised just how unhappy you were.
“Do you cum?” She asks abruptly, and you nearly choke on your own saliva. You think it catches her off guard too, because she looks away from you for a moment and itches her head before deciding fuck it, and goes back to staring. You bite your lip. Well there was that one time, you were on your back — Louis on top, you had a hand pressed between the two of you, rubbing your clit in quick sloppy circles as he got busy. Your eyes were closed. Did you cum? Kind of? Your eyes were closed. You were somewhere else. Somewhere softer and warmer, and it didn’t smell like beer and sweat. You shake your head, no. It was the closest time though, but Louis got all hostile about you touching yourself during sex. Said it was insulting, that you undermined him. You shook off the memory.
“No?” She whispers, eyebrows raised to the high heavens as if she just couldn’t fathom having sex and not making her partner cum — because that’s exactly what she was doing. She felt that hot tingling anger again in her chest, but it was dulled out by the weed — leaving her with just a light irritation at the back of her throat. “Thats fucked up.”
“Is it? I mean… orgasms take time. Doesn’t just happen in five minutes… that can get exhausting.” You defend, and you’re not sure why. You both know there’s no excuse.
“Nah.” She sniffs, not quite bothered to begin on how wrong you are. She switches the subject slightly instead. “So let me guess, missionary everytime?”
Your eyes widen, pressing your fingers over your lips to stop the childish giggle from bursting out. Ellie’s eyes widen too, realising how, well — down bad she was acting. She felt like a teenage boy on Snapchat playing truth or dare asking an uninterested girl if she’d ever send nudes before.
“Uh— fuck, you don’t have to answer that. Just making conversatio—”
“Most of the time. I think…” You decide to share something to make her feel less invasive, not wanting the conversation to end. You actually enjoyed getting to talk someone about this. “I think I’d feel good on top, maybe. But, hmm. How do I put this?” You thought. You looked at her for a moment and she gazed back, waiting on you to continue. Her breath caught in her throat when you crawled up toward her. “Lay back, please?” It was a request, not a command — and Ellie thought she might be dreaming when you straddled her with a frustrated expression.
You settled, and she was hyper aware of the feeling of your pillowy ass dropped down onto her thighs over her warm crotch.
“Okay, say I’m here. In this position.” You explain as well as you can, and when you give a few demonstrative bounces on her phantom cock her hands instinctively land on your hips to steady you. Fuck. Fucking shit. You don’t even seem to notice, or care. “This,” You point at your position. “Is me being in charge and… I don’t want that. It— it doesn’t get me off. I don’t wanna feel like I’m dominating them.” You whisper the last part like you’re telling her a secret at a girly sleepover, and she catches herself grinning before she scrambles, running over what you just said in her brain.
“Wait. Nah, that’s…” She adjusts herself slightly sheepish because she can feel herself blushing. Be cool, Ellie. Be dominant. “Thats bull. It doesn’t matter what position you’re in, it’s about how you make them feel.” She shrugs, and when you continue to stare at her, pink, glossy wide eyes— she carries on, you requiring more explanation. “If you’re on top working overtime, he should be telling you what a good job you’re doin’. How pretty you look doin’ it.” Her voices rasps in the way it does when she gets horny and she hopes she’s not giving herself away. Your mind goes a little blank, succumbing to the daydream of receiving that kind of praise. It makes your skin feel clammy. Louis isn’t below you in your daydream. Your freckled friend breaks your trail of thoughts. “And,” She’s smug now, and raises her knees behind you, planting her feet down on the bed and thrusting upwards a few times making you bounce a little, gripping her tighter. “Doesn’t matter if you were on top. I could still be the one fucking you. Just like this.”
You pause, only because you’re frozen in fear that she can feel the sudden floodgates open between your legs— praying to every God imaginable that you don’t leave some kind of pathetic wet patch on her. She thinks you’ve frozen at what she’s said.
“Uh— I mean Louis. Louis could still be the one— yeah.” She shrugs off, squeezing your hips with her warm fingers and you’re suddenly aware of your compromising position again, shaken from a dream. You slide off her quickly, bringing your knees to your chest and your back to the cool wall beside her bed. You were not a cheater. It doesn’t matter that the two of you didn’t kiss, or fuck, or whatever — what would have happened if Louis had walked in and seen you in your very gay dealers lap, pretending to have sex? You were not a cheater.
Ellie’s mouth was agape, like she wanted to say sorry but just couldn’t find it in her to feel sorry enough to say it. Her eyes were worried however, worried she’d made you uncomfortable or pushed it too far.
“I should… I shouldn’t stay. It’s getting late and—” You started looking for your bag with your laptop in it, where did you put it again?
“I’m sorry I— I didn’t mean to be weird. That was… I made you feel—” Her tone was apologetic now.
“No, no. It’s not that. I’m just hungry and I get weird when I’m… when I haven’t eaten. You’re fine. I mean, you were fine. Nothing weird just… friends hanging out, right?”
It hurt her, but Ellie nodded anyway. You were going back to him. It always ended this way.
“‘Kay. You got everything? You gonna be okay getting back? You’re still high.” Ellie stood, awkwardly dawdling behind you as you scooped up your purse. “I can walk you back—” She started patting her pockets for her key card.
“It’s okay, really. It’s still light outside and it’s a short walk. I think I need just… fresh air and quiet.” You avoid her eyes, but turn to face her as you back towards her door.
“Okay.” She was disappointed. “I hope you feel better now, ‘n stuff.” Your hand pushed the cold metal handle down and the hallway of her building was just as muggy, but it felt like a relief when some of the smoke from her dorm was released.
“I do.” You could look now, standing in the hallway as she didn’t move past her doorway. The distance made it safe enough to look at her pretty eyes without feeling you were going to do something bad. “Thank you Ellie. I owe you one.” Your brows knit together sincerely. Sure, I have a favour I need — break up with your boyfriend.
“Sure.” Ellie left it there, shook her head like it was nothing. “Text me and just… let me know that you got in okay. Yeah?” She continued to speak to you as you backed up down the hallway, awkwardly fumbling with your bag. It was wrong to let a girl walk back home high and alone. She thought about you walking around drunk and alone at that frat party. She was Louis this time.
“Will do. See you, Ellie.” Her name sounded like music when you said it. She had a new favourite song.
Your dorm was cooler, refreshing to be in when you got back. Your first mission was to look in the mirror and you sighed almost angrily seeing how flustered and a little dishevelled you look. You wanted to take the clothes off that touched her, still stinking of weed. You wanted food in your belly to flush her out. Flopping onto your back on your bed you pull your phone out, ignoring the texts and calls from your boyfriend — all to send a message to your dealer.
‘got back safe, thanks again😊’ You regret the emoji, but the Read: 5:13PM was immediate so there was no time to regret it for long. Three bubbles and then ‘Good’. You stare at the text, and then stare past the phone. You didn’t want to answer Louis right now. He could wait until tomorrow.
part two
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