#jabber plug

The group barely misses a beat. One of them snorts, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Relax. That’s Jabber. He chill as fuck. Everybody know him. Got the best shit in the city.”

“Chill as fuck?” I echo, raising a brow. “Y’all say that like you actually know him.”

“Man, we do,” another one insists, laughing like I’m the uptight one. “He cool. Bit of a clown sometimes, but solid.”

“Uh-huh,” I hum, unconvinced, glancing down the block toward the pulsing lights. “Sounds less like chill and more like chaos.”

“Same thing when it’s Jabber,” someone jokes, earning a chorus of laughs. “And he got good weed,” the other adds, like that’s the end of the debate.

I exhale, breath fogging up in the chill. My heart’s thudding a little quicker than I’d like to admit. The closer we get, the louder it all becomes, laughter, the snap of a lighter, and the thick smell of smoke curling out of the open window like it owns the street. The whole block’s wrapped in it.

They walk up like they’ve done this a hundred times, knocking once before pushing the door open without a pause. I hang back on the steps, hand hovering near the railing. From where I’m standing, the inside looks like another world. Someone’s laughing deep from the couch, the kind of laugh that vibrates through your chest and dares you to look.

That’s probably him.

“C’mon,” one of them calls back, holding the door open. “Don’t be scared. He don’t bite.”

That’s what they think.

I take a deep breath and step inside, still wondering what kind of man I’m about to meet.

The second I step in, the smell hits me, a mix of smoke and something fried hours ago that never got cleaned up. The living room looks exactly how I’d imagine a plug’s house: ashtrays overflowing with blackened butts, half-empty bottles tipping against one another on the floor, bags and scales laid out like trophies on the table, coins and papers scattered in no particular order.

And there he is. This Jabber, sunk into the couch, legs spread, one arm draped over the back like he owns the whole world. There’s a little mountain of product on the table in front of him, baggies half-filled, lighter flicking every now and then as he takes a drag. He doesn’t even look up when the door creaks shut behind us, just keeps moving, hands working with lazy precision.

My friends light up like they’ve been waiting all night. “Yo, what’s good!” They cross the room fast, dapping him up one by one, laughter bouncing off the walls, like they’re old boys catching up after a lifetime.

I hover near the door, arms still crossed, eyes scanning everything like I’m expecting the walls to cave in. This is so not what I signed up for. Then Jabber finally looks up. And it’s right at me.

His eyes drag slow, head tilting just a little, that grin curling across his face before he even says a word. “Damn…” His voice is smooth, lazy, almost a purr. “Y’all didn’t say nothin’ bout bringin’ a shorty along”

I stiffen instantly, heat rising in my face. My friends laugh it off, waving him off like, “Chill, bro, don’t start.” One by one, they slide into the seating options around him, laughing and joking as if they’ve been planning this reunion for weeks.

But his gaze stays locked on me, leaning forward just enough to rest his elbows on his knees, blunt dangling between his fingers. “Mm-hm,” he hums, eyes roaming, that grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “She the shy type, huh? Standin’ there lookin’ like she too good for my couch.”

I blink, not even sure what to say, so I don’t say anything at all. I just glance around at the mess, the trash, the clutter, the chaos, trying not to meet his eyes again.

The deal goes down. Cash hits the table, baggies slide across in return, all smooth like they’ve done it a hundred times. My friends grin, pocketing their stuff, already making plans for tonight. And me? I’m still hovering near the door, arms crossed, ready to dip.

Jabber leans back like he own the couch, stretchin’ out like a cat, tappin’ the ash off his blunt slow, real deliberate. That grin spreads, cheeky as hell. “Aight, buisness handled… but yo,” he says, eyes lockin’ on me for a moment too long, “I just got some new fire stuff in. Y’all tryna hit it? On me.”

My stomach knots, voice catching in my throat. “Uh… nah, we good.”

He raises a brow, smoke curling from his lips, chuckle low and lazy like he already know he got me twisted. “What ya scared for, ma?” His grin stretches wide, teasing, daring.

But my friends? They don’t care. “Wait, for real? Free?” One of them shouts. “Hell yeah, bro, bring it on!”

I blink at them, mouth open. “Y’all serious? Y’all just gonna say yes like that? We don’t even know what that is! What if it’s laced… or worse?”

One of them shrugs, “Relax. It’s Jabs. He got the fire. Chill out, girl.”

Jabber laughs. “See? That’s your problem, girl, ” he says, eyes locked on mine, smirk crawling over his face. “Thinkin’ too much. I ain’t tryna poison nobody, if I wanted you gone, you wouldn’t even be standin’ here, huh. Feel me?”

I swallow hard, heart racing, caught between rollin’ my eyes and… actually believin’ him.

He pats the empty space beside him, smirk tugging sly. “C’mon now,” he drawls, all velvet and danger, lips brushing smoke into the air. “Don’t act like my couch gon’ bite, ma. Sit. Down. Be social. Or we cant make it fun if you keep actin’ all shy, ya feel me?”

My feet stay planted, hesitation heavy like concrete, but my friends are already puffin’ on his blunt, laughing like I don’t even exist. And Jabber? He just leans back, one hand lazily patting the couch, eyes on me with that grin like he already know I’ll cave.

And… I do.

With a small sigh, I cross the room and lower myself onto the cushion beside him. Not too close, but just close enough to feel the heat from his side.

His grin widens. “Knew you’d come ‘round.”

Jabber leans forward, flicking ash into the tray, then stretches out like he owns the place. “Aight… lemme bless y’all,” he says, voice dragging smooth. He saunters over to a beat-up dresser shoved against the wall, riflin’ through drawers like he’s hunting treasure. Bass thumps from the speaker, smoke curls thick in the air, and my nerves tangle tighter with every step he takes.

Finally, he pulls out a tiny foil packet, holding it up with a grin sharp enough to cut. “Mm-hm. This right here? Fresh drop. Straight from Cali. Pure acid, clean as it get.” His eyes snap to mine, daring, teasing, and my stomach knots.

He slouches back onto the couch, packet in hand, flicks it open with his thumb like it ain’t nothing, like he’s done this a hundred times before. “This the kinda shit make colors dance for you, have you laughin’ at walls, feelin’ like a god. Not no weak-ass party pill, top shelf, y’all hear me?”

My friends lean forward instantly, eyes bright. “Bet. That’s fire, bro. Run it!”

I stare at them like they’ve lost their damn minds. “Are you serious? Y’all don’t even know what that is! You’re just… just gonna put that in your mouth ‘cause he said it’s good?”

They laugh, grabbing the it. Smoke curls around their heads from the blunt Jabber passed, bass rattling the floor. “Man, relax! You always scared. This the good shit, He don’t play, swear.”

Jabber leans back, blunt dangling lazily from his lips, smoke drifting past his grin. “You ever done acid before, ma?” His voice drags, low and smooth, like it’s teasing me before I even answer.

I blink, heart thudding. “Pff-, yeahh. Of course, obviously.” My words come out sharp, too quick. He tilts his head, grin widening like he already knows I’m lying. “Mm-hm. Tell Jabber what it feel like than, shorty. Don’t keep me waitin’.”

Heat creeps up my neck, my stomach twisting. My friends are already pressing tabs onto their tongues, laughing like they just scored a prize. I finally huff out the truth. “…Okay. Fine. I haven’t. Happy now?”

Jabber leans forward, grin crooked, eyes gleaming like he knows he got me twisted. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, shorty. First time for everything, feel me? Ain’t nobody gon’ put you on like me.” He taps the foil with his thumb, slow and deliberate, like he’s dealin’ out a secret only he got.

I shake my head fast, arms crossed tighter. “Nope. Nope. There’s no way I’m doing that. Y’all are crazy. This is stupid. What if I freak out? What if-”

My friends cut me off, already giggling as the tabs dissolve. “Y/N, chill. You think too much. Just try it!” I stare at them, heart hammering, mind screaming don’t do it.

Jabber leans back, one arm draped over the couch, the other lazily spinning the blunt between his fingers. That same lazy grin is fixed on me. “Actin’ all tough here but scared of some tabs, huh?” His voice drops low, smooth, teasing. “Relax, ma. I’ma hold your hand if shit get too wild.”

The first twenty minutes crawl. My friends chatter and laugh like it’s nothing, their words bouncing off each other, repeating, sticking on some dumb joke, but they’re losing themselves in it anyway.

I’m just… sitting there. Arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes glued to the walls. Counting seconds like they’ll save me. I don’t touch the drink they handed me, don’t say a word. Every so often, I peek at them, pupils huge, movements slightly off, faces almost glowing in the dim light.

And I hate it. Hate the nerves twisting in my stomach. Hate my silence. Hate feeling out of place in a room im the only sober one. My mind races: what if it’s laced? What if they can’t handle it? What if something goes sideways and I’m stuck in this mess.

Then, slowly, I notice the changes. One friend leans back against the couch, staring at the carpet like it’s some masterpiece. Another traces a poster on the wall, giggling at colors that aren’t even there. I swear my stomach knots tighter just watching them.

My eyes flick to Jabber, expecting calm, he’s got that grin, lazy, sharp at the same time, eyes glinting like he’s already three steps ahead.

He leans just a hair closer. “Ya see ’em, shawty? Lookin’ all gone already… smilin’ at shit that ain’t even there,” he murmurs, voice low, teasing. I stiffen, arms hugging myself, trying to stay cool. “Yeah… I see that.”

He snickers, head tilting, smoke curling around his face. “That shit makes the whole room feel different.” I shift, hands clutching my myself, jaw tight. “Yeah… different. Weird.”

He slides a finger under his chin, grin lazy, body leaning back like he owns the space. Voice dropping lower, slow, deliberate. “Mm-hm… actin’ like you too good for it, huh? Shorty… don’t think I ain’t see that lil spark of curiosity in your eyes watchin’ ’em.”

I bite my lip, heart hammering, trying not to let him know how rattled I am. “I’m… fine. Just… observing.”

“Observing, huh?” He chuckles, that low rumble like he knows he’s got me twisted. “Don’t worry so much, girl… Every paranoid thought runnin’ through that pretty head. Ain’t nothin’ scary ‘bout it. Just… different. New. Feels good to be caught off guard sometimes, don’t it?”

I glance around, but can’t help looking back at him. That grin never leaves, and his eyes stay locked on mine.

He leans back a little, flickin’ the lighter against the blunt, the tip glowin’ orange, smoke curling slow into the room.

“Here,” he says, holdin’ it out, thumb brushin’ mine as I take it careful. “Ain’t nothin’ scary ’bout this. You good" I stare at it for a second, heart thudding. “Uh… okay.” I raise it to my lips, inhale shakily.

He laughs low, rough, leaning closer, hand brushing my arm in that lazy, teasing way. “Mm… that’s it. Feelin’ it already, huh?” His eyes glint like he knows exactly how I’m holding back.

I nod, heart thudding, but before I can settle, he flicks the blunt, slow, deliberate. That grin spreads wider, full of mischief. “Mm-hm… that’s the acid in it,” he says, voice dragging, eyebrows wiggling like he’s daring me to freak out.

I freeze, eyes going wide. “…Wait- what?!”

The second the words leave my mouth, he leans back just enough to let me see that smug, lazy smirk. Smoke curls from his lips, drifting toward me like a tease. “Relax, lil mama… I took it too. You’re officially ridin’ with me now.”

A shiver runs down my spine, part nerves, part… him. My stomach knots as my hands clench, but he just sits there, calm, grinning, watching every tiny reaction like a predator enjoying the chase.

My heart spikes, a mix of panic and annoyance. “Why would you do that? That’s insane! noo" I cough, my chest tightening, heart hammering. “…No, no, no, no! I can’t, you’re insane!” My hands flail slightly, knocking against the couch as the smoke curls around.

He just leans back, grinning wide, one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch behind me. “Uh-huh… that’s the reaction I like,… lookin’ like you bout to run outta here.”

I grab my jacket, pressing it to my face, trying to calm my racing heart, but every chuckle, every lazy shift of his body, every teasing glance sets my nerves on fire. “You’re such an idiot…” I mutter.

Letting his knee brush mine, hand lazily trailing along my arm, teasingly slow. “Mm… that’s the fun part, sugar. Let it ride,” he murmurs, voice low, dragging the words out like he knows exactly what effect they’re having.

I swat at him, heart thudding, but can’t hide the shiver that shoots down my spine. “I can’t… I can’t believe this,” I mutter, eyes flicking away, then back at him.

I can’t stop myself from glaring, heart thudding in a mix of panic and… something else. He’s teasing, chaos embodied and I’m trapped right next to him, melting even while I’m screaming inside.

He laughs, low and deep, voice wrapping around me like velvet. “Chill… I was just messin’ with you, lil mama. Ain’t no crazy shit here, just normal purple haze. You needa relax a bit.”

His hand lingers near mine, brushing along my arm, fingers tracing just enough to make my skin prickle. I can’t stop the shiver rolling through me. He leans closer, that lazy grin creeping back, eyes hooded, teasing. “See? Ain’t so bad when it’s me, huh?”

My stomach drops. I snatch the nearest pillow and hurl it at him. “Ugh! You’re impossible! I swear-”

He barely flinches, catches the edge of the pillow with one hand, grinning like it’s the best thing he’s seen all night. “Mm-hm… that’s a it. Finally showin’ some fight.”

I huff, cheeks burning, arms crossed, trying to act mad but damn, he’s kinda fun to be around. “Some fight? You literally scared me half to death!”

He leans closer, letting the pillow slide off his lap, fingers brushing mine again. “Aight… maybe had ya a lil scared, shorty… but that’s hot too,” he murmurs, grin tugging at the corner of his lips like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

I glare at him, jaw tight, voice sharp. “Hot? You think scaring me to death is hot? You’re… ridiculous.”

He leans back, one arm draped over the couch, that grin easing into something warmer, lazy, teasing. “Mm… jus like your ridiculous paranoia, shorty.”

I bite my lip, trying to shove the warmth creeping up my neck away. “I… I can’t believe this shit… ugh,” I mutter. He chuckles low, slow, not mocking, but teasing enough to make me twitch. “Relax, girl… ain’t nothin’ gonna happen. I got you.”

I huff, shifting on the couch, watching my friends fully dissolve into their own trips, one tracing shapes in the ceiling shadows, eyes wide, another giggling at the carpet like it’s a whole new planet. Their laughter floats, warped and dizzying, and I feel… stuck between awe and panic.

I glance back at Jabber, arms still crossed, trying to look stern. “And you? Just… chillin’? Why ain’t you trippin’ with them?”

He shrugs, grin stretching wider, that effortless swagger radiating off him. “Mm… I know the ride… and somebody gotta be here watchin’ you while the rest get lost, ya feel me?”

Then his hand drifts toward mine, fingers just barely brushing, teasing, testing, enough to make my pulse spike. “But ey… don’t fight it too hard, shorty. If ya change your mind and wanna hop on that tab, you good.”

A little curiosity snakes through me despite myself. He leans back, eyes hooded, grin slow and sharp, watching me like he already knows what I’m thinking, daring me to admit how close I am to giving in.

I bite my lip tighter, heart racing, trying to stay distant, but the warmth of him, the casual way he leans close without pressing… it’s unnerving. He’s impossible to read, somehow teasing and safe at the same time.

“Curious?” he murmurs, voice dipping, sliding just a little closer. “No need to hide that from me.”

I glare harder, crossing my arms even tighter, chest rising fast. “I’m… not,” I snap, voice sharp, even though my fingers twitch where his hand brushed the couch near mine. He leans back just slightly, that grin softening into something magnetic, eyes locking on mine. “Uh-huh… sure you ain’t, sugar.”

I glare at him, hunting for a comeback to his prank. Eyebrow raised, voice dripping with fake annoyance, I snap, “So… you… just sellin’ drugs for a livin’? That’s… sad, ain’t it?”

He chuckles low and steady, that easy Jabber swagger in his posture. “Sad? Nah, lil mama. Everybody gotta eat, right? Ain’t like I hurtin’ nobody. I keep it clean, keep it right. That’s all business, feel me?”

I huff, arms crossed, trying to look unimpressed, but my pulse is racing. “Business… right.” I pause, flicking some ash off his blunt I’ve been hitting steadily now. “And you… proud of it?”

He shrugs, eyes hooded, that lazy grin stretching wider. “Proud? I just do what I do. Gotta hustle. Think this life easy? Nah, ma… takes brains, patience… people gotta respect it. That’s all I care about.”

I narrow my eyes, trying to push back, but he leans just a little closer, head tilted, that corner-of-the-lip grin tugging sharper, eyes locked on me like he can read every thought. “And what ‘bout you, ma? You think that’s sad, what bout you just rollin’ through to grab your own stash… more sadder, huh? Lookin’ all high-and-mighty now off my weed.”

“I’m… uhm… that’s not,” I mutter, though my heart’s hammering faster than I care to admit. He chuckles low, tilting the blunt toward me again, thumb brushing mine as I take it. “Mm… that’s it. See? You learnin’ fast.,” he murmurs, voice lazy but teasing, like he’s enjoying every twitch of my nerves.

I cough lightly, hands trembling a bit, and he laughs softly, letting his fingers brush mine again, lingering just a second too long. “Chillin’ now. That’s how it’s supposed to be. Let it ride… let it hit ya.”

I sink back, resting lightly against him. The warmth of the smoke mingles with the warmth from him, just enough to lean into him without really thinking.

His arm, already draped behind the couch, now settles naturally just behind me, like it’s always been there, with that lazy grin stretching easy across his face. “You good? Lookin’… soft now. That’s real nice.”

“Yeah… I guess I’m… chill,” I murmur, tilting my head slightly against him. “Can’t even remember the last time I just… did nothing and actually liked it.”

He chuckles low, his arm already rests lightly around my shoulders, but now he shifts it, pulling me a little closer. “Life funny like that, girl. Everybody runnin’, tryna do everything… forgettin’ to just… be. Ain’t that enough?”

The warmth presses against me, easy and grounding, like he’s claiming the space beside him without a word. I let out a soft laugh, feeling the warmth from him radiate against me. “It’s… nice like this. Weird, but nice.”

“See? Ain’t gotta overthink it. Just… be here. That’s all that matters.” I find myself smiling wider now, letting my guard slip a little. “Yeah… like, life’s stressful and all, but… right here, right now… I kinda get it.”

I lean into him, letting the weight settle. “Mm… that’s better,” he murmurs, pressing lightly against me. “Just… enjoy it, shorty. Don’t think too much. Let it ride.”

I exhale, tilting my head slightly closer, a soft smile tugging at my lips. Leaning my head against his shoulder, letting the warmth and calm radiate through me. Fingers brushing his as he lifts the blunt, I feel that lazy, teasing energy in his presence, comforting and unnerving all at once.

“You know ma… ,” he murmurs, voice low, smooth, hand drifting lightly over my arm, “you here to chill, not just watch my boys float away. That shit’s fire… you’ll love it.” I glance at him, shaking my head slightly as I take another hit. “I… I don’t know if I like this,” I admit, voice small, shaky.

He leans a fraction closer, fingers brushing through my hair in the softest, most casual way, like it’s nothing. “Mm… that’s alright, sugar. I got you. You good. Just trust me.”

I huff, pressing my forehead lightly against his shoulder. “I… I don’t know… sounds… scary.”

He tilts my chin up gently, grin teasing but soft in his eyes. “First time’s always sum. But I’m right here. I’ll guide you. All you gotta do… just put your tongue out for me.”

Panic and curiosity war inside me, biting my lip. “I… I don’t know…”

“Shh…” he murmurs, thumb brushing my jaw, voice low and lazy. “You trust me, girl. I ain’t gonna let nothing happen. You just… trust me.”

I tilt my head, parting my lips just enough. His grin widens, warm and teasing, and he picks up the tab from the table, sliding it carefully onto my tongue.

I blink, heart thudding, the strange taste hitting my senses. “Oh… oh wow…” He chuckles low, voice lazy, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s it, ma… you did it. Just… relax, enjoy it. I got you.”

I let myself sink further into him. His arm drifts around me naturally, loose, effortless, holding me in place without words. The room softens, the distant laughter of my friends, the thump of the bass, all fades into a blur.

He leans back, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “Ever hear some of the stories, girl? ’Bout my regulars? Man… some of these fools are somethin’ else.” I glance up at him, smirking despite myself. “Oh really? Tell me.”

He shakes his head, chuckling low. “Aight… peep this, shorty. Dude rolls in last week, right? Tryna act all slick, like he runnin’ shit or somethin’. Man spend like ten minutes sniffin’ each bag, checkin’ the colors, swirlin’ it around like he testin’ wine. Bro’s face when I called him out? Bruh… straight up priceless.”

I snort, covering my mouth, trying not to crack up too loud. “No way… he was serious?”

““Dead ass, shorty. I’m standin’ there, tryna keep my chill, but this fool starin’ at me like I invented weed or somethin’. I swear, almost had to slide him a mirror, make him peep how a idiot looks like.”

I laugh again, leaning closer. “You’re terrible… you know that? All this… your lifestyle, the way you live, messin’ with people, runnin’ your game, it’s… a lot.”

He chuckles, that slow, teasing Jabber laugh, letting it wrap around me like a soft rhythm. “Mm… maybe. But you like that, don’t you?”

I freeze for a second, heat rising, then roll my eyes, trying to hide my grin. “Maybe a little.” He smirks, tilting his head, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Nah, I’m entertainin’. Somebody gotta keep it fun.” He squeezes my shoulder lightly. “Some customers, man… they’ll do anything to act important, but I see right through ’em. You gotta laugh at life sometimes, ma.”

I shak my head, but the laughter keeps slipping out. “Yeah… I guess. You make it sound hilarious, I’ll give you that.”

He leans his head just a little against mine, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “See? I told you… chillin’ can be fun too. Ain’t always gotta stress, judge, overthink. Sometimes… just laugh, enjoy the little stuff.”

I hum softly, shoulders sinking further into his warmth, the tension from before melting away. “You’re… not like anyone I’ve met before,” I admit, voice soft, smile easing.

“Mm… good or bad?” he teases, low and lazy, that grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

I bite my lip, trying to play it cool, but my hands find his arm, fingers brushing along the fabric of his sleeve. “Mm-hmm,” I murmur, not wanting to admit how much I’m actually enjoying this but my actions made the answer clear.

He chuckles, fingers brushing lightly over mine, thumb tracing lazy circles. “That’s what I thought.”

For the next twenty minutes, we sit like that, him telling ridiculous, hilarious stories about his customers, me laughing, teasing, forgetting the world outside… even forgetting the acid tab for a while. His arm stays snug around my shoulders, and I let myself lean fully into him, savoring the warmth, the calm, the effortless pull between us.

By the time the next few minutes tick by, the world around me shifts. The carpet beneath my legs seems to ripple gently, colors bending and stretching like liquid. Shadows dance across the walls, almost breathing in rhythm with my heartbeat.

I blink, eyes wide, suddenly hyper-aware of every sound, every vibration, every little shift in the room. My fingers instinctively curl around Jabber’s arm, pressing into the warmth, holding on like it’s the only thing steady in this swirling, vivid haze.

He glances down at me, eyes soft, voice low, smooth. “Mm… feelin’ it now, huh?” I nod quickly, chest hammering, heart thudding like a drum. “Yeah… it’s… wow… everything’s…” My fingers dig into his arm, legs twitching slightly, stomach twisting. “It’s… kinda scary…”

He lets out a calm, soft laugh, thumb brushing in slow, deliberate circles. “Aight, ma… I got you. Just… ride it out. You safe. You right here with me.”

I inhale sharply, head pressing into his shoulder, and my hands can’t stop moving, tracing the lines of his arm, clutching his sleeve, brushing across the couch beside him. Every sensation is amplified, the warmth, the vibration of the bass under the floor, the smell of smoke, all of it pulsing through me.

“I… I can’t… it’s too… everything,” I murmur, voice trembling, legs fidgeting, pulse racing. “It’s… a lot.”

He tilts his head, eyes locked on mine, calm as ever. “I know… lean into it. Don’t fight it, shorty. Feel it all. I’m right here.”

I nod, gripping him tighter, pressing my cheek fully against his chest now, fingers curling around his bicep like an anchor. The room stretches and bends around me, colors melting together, laughter echoing in slow, warped waves. “You… you feel… real,” I whisper, voice shaky. “Like… I can actually hold on to you.”

He chuckles low, slow, teasing, letting his hand cover mine like he’s making sure I don’t float away. “That’s right, shorty… hold on… don’t even think ’bout lettin’ go.”

The colors explode now, posters melting into neon swirls, the ceiling breathing above me like it’s alive. I giggle, fingers brushing over his chest, tracing along his sleeve, just… feeling. Everything feels electric.

“Everything’s… so alive,” I murmur, pressing closer. “It’s… a lot, but… good, I think?”

For what feels like forever, I don’t even notice my friends or the world outside. I just press against him, brush along his arm, let the acid roll through my body, my mind spinning, while he stays calm… a steady anchor. Every laugh, every ripple of color, every stretching shadow is softer, safer, tethered by him.

He stretches out, letting out a long, lazy sigh, that grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Aight… I’mma grab somethin’ to eat. You hungry, shorty?” I blink, stomach twisting, suddenly aware of how light-headed I feel. “…Uh… can I… come with you?”

He laughs low, smooth, shaking his head like he’s already won. “Heh… you tryna steal my food too now, huh? Mm… I like that. Yeah, come on. Don’t get lost in that pretty little head of yours.”

He rises, and I follow, fingers still brushing along his arm, holding just enough to stay grounded. The walls ripple gently, shadows bending like they’re breathing. Every tiny flicker of light, every detail feels sharper, wilder… and yet, safe, tethered to him.

His eyes flick to mine, hooded, teasing, the kind of look that makes my chest thrum. “Aight, girl… keep up now. Don’t wander off, I ain’t lettin’ you float away.”

I let out a nervous giggle, letting my fingers slide along his arm as we move, just enough to feel anchored. He glances down, grinning wider, hand brushing against mine in that slow, teasing way. “See? You stickin’ close… I like that. Smart girl.”

“You see that?” he murmurs, pointing vaguely at a corner. “Ceiling lookin’ like it’s… moving’, huh? Wild, right?” I giggle softly, nodding. “Yeah… everything’s… so alive. The light… the colors…” My fingers drift over the ridge of his bicep again, resting there unconsciously.

He chuckles low, that lazy, teasing sound rolling through the kitchen like he owns every corner. Guiding us through the space, he opens the fridge and pulls out a couple things, tossing me a small snack like it’s nothing. I hover close, fingers brushing his side every so often, letting myself lean in just a little.

“You… don’t mind me just hangin’ here, huh?” I murmur, voice soft, barely above the hum of my thoughts. He leans back just enough to give me that slow, lazy grin. “Mind? Nah, shorty… you stickin’ close. Ain’t nobody gonna snatch you from me, feel me?”

He moves to the counter. “Check that tile… see how it’s catchin’ the light? Man, that shine, crazy. And this glow, look at it. Right?”

I laugh softly, tracing patterns along the edge of the counter, letting my fingers wander, glancing up at him. “I don’t even know where to look first.”

He leans just slightly toward me, that familiar lazy grin tugging wider. “Mm… don’t think. Just take it all in. Colors, shapes… me. All yours right now.”

Without realizing it, I let my head rest against his shoulder. He doesn’t flinch; instead, his arm slides casually behind me, hand brushing along my back like he’s claiming the space without a word. My chest feels lighter, the high humming softly through me, steady and grounded by him.

I hop up onto the counter, legs dangling, fingers tracing edges like they’re asking for it. He steps closer, tall, calm, that lazy grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You good?”

I nod, breath hitching, caught between giggles and awe, leaning just a little closer. “Yeah… I think so. It’s… a lot, but… I really like it.”

He tilts his head, eyes hooded, playful mischief mixed with warmth. “Mmhm” I blink, head tilting against, voice soft. “…Yeah… just… wobbly, I guess.”

He steps right in front of me, tall and calm, letting his presence steady me as I wobble a little on the counter. His hands rest lightly on my hips, guiding me without a word, fingers brushing along my sides like it’s the most natural thing. “Don’t worry ‘bout leanin’ or fallin’. I got you.”

I can’t help it, my fingers brush his forearms, tracing small patterns, and I realize I’m holding onto him more than I thought. The high makes everything feel magnified, his closeness, the brush of his hands, the smell of him mixing with the kitchen scents.

He grabs a small piece of food from the plate “Here… try this, ma. Gotta taste the high too.”

I open my mouth just a bit, letting him guide it, but the way he’s right there, close, makes my cheeks heat up. “You… you’re right here…” I murmur, voice catching.

“Mhm,” he says, teasing soft, leaning in just enough as I bite down. “Gotta make sure you eat it right.”

The flavor hits, sweet and sharp all at once, and I can’t stop the little giggle that slips out. “Damn… that’s… really good,” I admit, eyes half-lidded from the high.

He grins, watching me like he already knows how I’m feeling. “Mm… knew it. Knew you’d feel that.”

I shift a little more on the counter, letting my body brush against his as I reach for another bite. My fingers curl around his wrist for balance, and he doesn’t flinch, just lets me, watching with that lazy, knowing grin.

“Careful now,” he murmurs, slow and teasing, thumb brushing lazy circles over my knuckles. “You all up on me, shorty… you know what you doin’?”

I flush, fumbling slightly, biting my lip. “S-sorry… I… I just… can’t help it. Everything’s so… intense.”

He chuckles low, that teasing rumble vibrating through his chest. “…never once complained ‘bout that. Keep doin’ you, girl.”

I let out a nervous laugh, pressing a little closer, fingers brushing along his arm like I can’t help myself. “I… I didn’t mean to… it’s just…”

“Shh… it’s straight. Ain’t no need to apologize. You doin’ fine. Hell, I like this.”

He lifts another small bite toward my lips. I bite gently, lips brushing his fingers. My hands drift naturally, one curling over his forearm. I let myself melt fully into him, forehead pressing against him, head settling comfortably against his chest as if I’ve always belonged there.

He chuckles low. “Mm… look at you, shawty. Bein’ all soft and clingy like that… can’t even hide it, huh?”

His fingers brush a strand of hair from my face, thumb lingering just a second longer. “Told ya… this is fun. You gettin’ all… goofy on me already.”

I shiver, pulling my head back slightly from his chest, eyes wide and glimmering. He just watches, grin widening, like he’s savoring every twitch of my nerves.

He moves, setting the plate down in the sink and my eyes follow, unfocused, mesmerized. Then he turns back, that lazy, teasing grin aimed straight at me.

“Mm… look at that,” he murmurs, hand lifting to cup my cheek, thumb tracing lazy circles over my skin, playful but deliberate. “All wide-eyed… all ‘ohhh, help me, Jabber’ kinda lookin’. You feelin’ that? You like how… helpless you look right now?”

I bite my lip, trying not to laugh, cheeks heating, and he just chuckles, low and mocking.

His fingers drift lower, brushing along my jaw, teasing deliberate, and then he presses his thumb to my lips. I blink at him, breath hitching, heart thudding.

“Don’t be shy, sugar,” he whispers, voice low, purr in it. “Gotta enjoy it… all of it.” I giggle, high and reckless, letting my tongue flick over his thumb once, twice, testing him. I bite gently at the pad, smirking up at him, teasing.

He chuckles, slow and low, shaking his head, hand still cupping my face. “You crazier than I thought,” he murmurs, leaning just a touch closer. Every press, every brush, every lazy slide of his finger against my lip makes my body hum, my mind whirl, the colors and heat of the high amplifying every spark between us.

Smiling wide, eyes half-lidded, high and touchy and completely caught up in him. He leans down just a hair more, whispering into my ear, warm breath tickling me: “Mm… you like that, huh? Feelin’ all… needy’?”

I nod, barely able to form words, letting the high and his teasing take over. My tongue drifts along his thumb, lips pressing light kisses. Every brush of his hand against my face, the warmth of his body pressed close, it’s electric. My heartbeat thrums in my ears, every nerve alive.

And then-

“Hey! Yo, quick question.” Our friend barges in, giggling like a maniac, completely oblivious to the world we’re in.

I freeze. My eyes snap open, and I yank his hand down, cheeks flaming red. “Uh, uhmm” I stammer, scrambling for distance, hands fumbling against the counter.

Jabber doesn’t move. He’s still standing there, that lazy, teasing grin spread wide, looking down at me enjoying my panic.

The friend squints at the room, still giggling, blurting, “Uh… yo… where are the 3D glasses? We wanna watch Kung Fu Panda!”

I swallow hard, face heating further, trying to vanish into the counter. My high makes every inch of his body seem ridiculously close, ridiculously warm.

Jabber tilts his head, “Mm… they’re in the drawer on the left of the TV. Don’t trip too hard.”

He leans just slightly back to me, voice soft but mocking. “You lookin’ like you bout to melt right here.”

I squeak, high, flustered, caught somewhere between giggling and hiding. My legs jitter, fingers twitching. He chuckles, clearly loving every second of it.

The friend nods, grinning, clearly too high to notice anything, and wanders off, muttering a distracted, “Thanks…”

I let out a shaky breath, trying to untangle myself, but Jabber is still right there, knees bracketing mine, that lazy, teasing grin firmly in place. His hand drifts lightly over my thigh, warm and steady, like he’s staking claim without saying a word.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the friend spins back, pupils huge, voice all wobble and disbelief. “Wait… uh… Y/N, are you like… fucking the plug rightnow?”

My eyes go wide, cheeks burning hotter than a stove. I yelp, jerking back, hands flailing, trying to cover my face. “W-what?! No! God, stop!”

Jabber doesn’t even flinch. His hands brushing over my thights. “We just vibin.”

I press my forehead to his chest, high and mortified, heart hammering in every nerve. But… that warmth, his body pressed close, his hand steady, his calm teasing grin, keeps me rooted, half-relieved, half-flustered.

He chuckles, soft and slow, letting the teasing linger. “Mm… you all red and squirmy… Ain’t nobody seein’ nothin.”

The friend finally laughs, completely lost in their own world, mumbling something about Kung Fu Panda before stumbling out.

I peek up at Jabber, cheeks still blazing, breath shaky. “You… you’re impossible,” I mutter, voice barely audible.

He chuckles low, that slow, teasing rumble, fingers brushing my jaw, thumb tracing over my cheek. “…Nah, shorty… just keepin’ it interesting. Ain’t nothing wrong with havin’ a little fun while you’re high.”

We drift back to the living room, the faint laughter of our friends and the muffled silly movie soundtrack filling the air. My chest is still fluttering from the kitchen moment, the warmth of him lingering in my mind.

Without really thinking, I flop onto the couch beside him, still spinning from the acid. Somehow, my body slides closer, and I find myself perched lightly on his lap, legs draped across his, pressing into his chest. My mind flickers, realizing the position but the swirl of colors and the thrum of the high drown out everything else.

He leans just a bit, fingers brushing along my arm, smirk tugging at his lips. “Actin’ all delicate, all lost in the ride. You like it? Huh?”

I bite my lip, cheeks flaming hotter, eyes fluttering closed for a second. “I… yeah… I think so,” I admit, voice small, almost shy, letting myself melt fully into the closeness.

He chuckles low, hand settling lightly on my hip, thumb tracing lazy circles. “You comfy, hmm?” I blink at him, mouth twitching in a half-smile, voice soft and airy. “Yeah, I guess,” I mumble, high as hell, barely processing that I’m literally perched on him.

His grin spreads, teasing. “Guess so? Mm… that ain’t a guess, ma. You sittin’ on me like it’s the only spot that matters.”

I laugh softly, head tilting against his chest, hands brushing over his arms, lingering on his biceps and I can’t even notice the friends half-watching the movie a few meters away. Everything else blurs; it’s just him, the high, the warmth, the closeness.

My fingers tracing patterns over his arm. A lazy laugh escapes him. “Don’t make me start thinkin’ you don’t ever wanna leave.” I can’t help the soft giggle, pressing into him a little more. “I… uh… I don’t,” I whisper, high and shaky, heart fluttering.

He chuckles again, that low, teasing rumble. “Mm… good. Didn’t think you’d admit it so fast."

I tilt my head up, squinting at the TV. “So… Kung Fu Panda, huh? Is this like… a good one to watch high?”

Jabber chuckles, low and lazy, fingers brushing over my arm as he nudges me closer. “Mm… yeah, for sum. But lemme tell you somethin’, shorty… when you high, you gotta pick the right kinda movie. Animated? Classic. Colors pop, jokes hit different. Music? Bruh… that hits all the feels, for real.”

I giggle, listening to him go on like he’s giving a masterclass. “So… what else counts as ‘right’ then?”

He leans back, chin just above my head, voice smooth, teasing, dragging the words out like he owns the room. “Mm… gotta mix it up. Comedy, trippy visuals, some kinda music-heavy joint. You inside that movie, swear to God.”

I laugh softly, nudging him with my knee. “Sounds like you’ve done this a lot.”

He grins, lazy and cocky, thumb brushing along my shoulder like he’s claiming it. “Mm… lil bit. Gotta know how to vibe right, feel me? Movies, music, weed, a lil acid… all gotta line up. Make it a full ride. Don’t sleep on the details, shorty… that’s how it hit different.”

I tilt my head against his chest, soaking in the warmth and the soft buzz from the high. “You really know how to set it up, huh?”

He hums, that lazy grin tugging at his lips, thumb brushing along my shoulder. “Mm… you know what’s wild, sugar? One of my crazies told me ‘bout this trip he had watchin’ Spirited Away on shrooms. Swore he felt like he was there… every color poppin’, every little detail hittin’ him different.”

I grin, eyes lighting up despite the haze. “Oh… that movie’s brilliant. The visuals, the music, the world… it’s insane. I can totally see that.”

He leans closer, voice low and teasing, warm against my ear. “Mm… bet you’d dig that, ma. Got a copy upstairs. We could watch it, if you down.”

My chest flutters, cheeks warming, high and excited. “…Yeah. Llet’s do it,” I murmur. He grins wider, nudging me gently as I rise from the couch. “Bet. Follow me, sugar… let’s see how deep this ride goes.”

I follow, heart thumping and mind spinning, fingers brushing his arm as he guides me upstairs. The hallway lights blur slightly.

We step into his bedroom, and I freeze mid-step, eyes wide. The place is… exactly what I imagined when I pictured a “plug’s bedroom.” Clothes strewn across the floor, an old backpack tipped over with papers spilling out, and the faint, sweet haze of weed hanging thick in the air. Posters are taped haphazardly to the walls, some peeling at the corners, and a lamp in the corner casts a warm, golden glow over the chaos.

I bite my lip, unsure where to put myself, hands fidgeting. “Uh… wow,” I murmur, more to myself than to him.

Jabber doesn’t miss a beat. He’s already moving to his desk, flipping drawers with casual efficiency. I step closer, peering over his shoulder as he rifles through the messy drawer. Pulling out a slightly beat-up DVD case.

“I feel… so light,” I murmur, voice soft and dazed, almost a whisper lost in the haze.

He hums, that lazy grin tugging at his lips as his arm slides around my waist, steady and warm. “Just let it flow,” he says quietly, fingers tracing slow, grounding patterns along my side.

He nods toward the bed, and I stumble over, laughing under my breath. The mattress catches me before I even realize I’ve fallen, the softness swallowing me whole. I sink into it, limbs loose, head spinning, the world stretching and breathing around me. A sigh slips out, half relief, half wonder. The high ripples through me, light and electric.

Jabber drops down beside me, one arm propped behind his head. “You trippin’ hard, huh?” he murmurs, voice low and smooth, the kind that hums through my chest more than my ears.

I laugh softly, turning my face toward him, eyes half-lidded. “It’s… wild,” I admit. “Like I can’t tell if I’m lying down or floating.”

He chuckles, leaning closer, “Floatin’, huh? Guess that makes me your anchor, sugar.” His fingertips trailing slowly to my hip, feather-light touches that make me shiver.

My lips twitch into a hazy smile, my hand lifting without much thought, fingers brushing along his arm, feeling the solid muscle beneath. “You’re… sweet. That’s all I know right now.”

His grin spreads, lazy and teasing, as his fingers graze along my side again, barely there but enough to make me squirm softly against the sheets. “Sweet, huh? That means you feelin’ me. Hmm?”

I hum in response, closing my eyes for a second, my hand sliding up to his chest, fingertips tracing over the fabric stretched across it. The contact feels electrical.

“You good?” he asks, softer now, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair off my face. I nod slowly, a hazy giggle slipping out. “Better than good. Everything’s… colors, and you’re… right here. Feels.”

My fingers can’t stop moving, tracing up his arm, down his chest, curling into the fabric of his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded. His thumb brushes over my bottom lip, slow, teasing, and I shiver.

“You real touchy, hmm” he murmurs, voice soft but edged with that teasing grin. His eyes narrow slightly, curious. “You always like this? Or just with me?” Heat floods my face, and I shake my head. “N-no… not with anyone. I don’t” I stop myself, swallowing.

His grin deepens, lazy and knowing. “Mm-hm. Funny, though… you ain’t even trust me at first. Kept your walls up,actin’ like I was a real problem.” He leans in closer, his breath brushing my cheek. “And look at you now.”

I laugh, breathless, high, giddy and instead of pulling back, I grab his shirt in a fist and tug him closer. My eyes lock on his, everything around us blurring into colors, and all I can feel is him.

He tilts his head, voice dropping lower, velvet smooth. “You lookin’ at me like you want more than just an anchor.” My face burns, but I can’t even deny it. A stupid little giggle slips out, and my hand drifts up to his neck, thumb brushing against his jaw.

His grin softens, hungrier now, his eyes half-lidded as he closer. My chest tightens, my lips part just slightly, waiting. Until his lips hovers just a breath from mine, so close I can feel the heat of him.

I don’t move. I don’t even think. My fingers tighten against his shirt, pulling him that last inch closer and his lips crash into mine.

Every nerve in my body lights up, sparks shooting down my spine, my fingertips clutching at his shirt like I’ll drown if I let go. The taste of him, smoke, heat, something rough and sweet at the same time, burns through me.

A low sound slips out of me, half-moan, half-gasp, as I press closer, desperate, my hands climbing from his chest to his neck, to his jaw, anywhere I can touch. My legs shift, brushing his, trying to pull him closer, the high making every inch of contact feel explosive.

I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. I’m melting into him, biting at his bottom lip, tugging him back in when he shifts even a breath away.

Then, suddenly, he eases back. Just a little. His hand on my cheek, but his lips pull away, and I chase after him with another needy little sound before I even realize I’m doing it.

He chuckles low, breathing heavier now, eyes half-lidded but sharp as they catch mine. “Damn, ma… you hungry for real.”

I flush hot, chest heaving, lips tingling, still clinging to his shirt like I’ll collapse without it. “I… I just-” I stammer, high and desperate, not even sure what I’m trying to say.

The kiss is steady, deliberate, and I melt into it, my breath catching as he shifts, pressing me furthor into the mattress with his weight.

The world tilts, the sheets soft under me, the colors spinning overhead, but all I feel is him, warm and solid, pinning me down in the best way. My fingers tangle in his shirt, tugging him closer, desperate for more, even though he’s already everywhere.

He breaks the kiss just enough to murmur against my lips, voice low and rough with amusement. “… Needy as hell. Whole time before, you was paranoid as fuck, doubtin’ me like I was trouble.” His hand drags slowly across my waist, grounding me. “Now? You can’t even let me breathe.”

My chest heaves, lips parted, eyes half-lidded as I look up at him. “I… I don’t care. I just-” The words tumble out clumsy, high, but true. “I just want you.”

He chuckles, low and satisfied, kissing me again, firmer this time, his body pressed into mine. His hand slides down to my hip, holding me there like he’s proving a point. “Mm-hm. That acid hittin’ different, huh?”

I squirm under him, half-embarrassed, on the way he feels against me, my nails lightly grazing over his arm. “Shut up,” I whisper against his mouth, pulling him back down into another kiss, more frantic this time.

He grins into it, letting me take what I want for a moment before deepening the kiss himself, guiding the pace, steady and teasing, while his weight keeps me right where he wants me.

I’ll add a smut part for all you freaks too, hehe

“You nervous, ma?” he asks without looking up, voice low and drawling. I bite my lip and nod, my gaze flicking back to the blunt in his hands. “Uh… I’ve just never really done this before,” I admit softly, the words tasting strange on my tongue.

He laughs, the sound warm and teasing. “Ain’t nothin’ to it. I got you. You just follow me, yeah?” He leans closer, resting his head lightly against my knees, hand sliding over mine again to guide my fingers. “You good, ma. just sit back and trust me.” His warmth seeps into me, grounding my nerves, and I manage a small smile. “Okay… I trust you.”

Once the blunt is rolled, he leans back on the couch, tugging me gently against his side. “Here… I’ll show you.” He pulls out a lighter, flicking it expertly before holding the flame to the tip of the blunt. A small orange glow catches, smoke beginning to curl from the end. He takes a slow, careful drag, letting the ember burn evenly as he inhales, filling his lungs with the smoke. A thin stream trails from his lips as he exhales lazily, letting it curl around my face. “See? Nothin’ scary ‘bout it.”

He leans closer, holding the blunt steady between us before gently passing it into my hands. My grip is tentative, fingers trembling slightly, and I glance at him again, searching for any hint of disapproval.

I swallow, heart thudding, and my fingers curl around the blunt, feeling its warmth. “You… you sure it’s okay if I try?” My eyes flick to the glowing tip, then back to him, unsure where to look. “Bet,” he says, grinning. His thumb brushes my jaw, tilting my head up slightly so our eyes meet. “You gon’ do fine.”

“Just… inhale slow,” he murmurs, voice low and drawling, thumb brushing my cheek again as he guides me. “Like this.” Before I can react, he gently wraps his fingers around my wrist, holding the blunt still in my hand. His grip is firm but careful, guiding my hand toward his lips. I watch, heart hammering, as he takes a shallow drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs while my fingers remain wrapped around the warm blunt.

He exhales lazily, the smoke curling around us, and gives me a teasing grin. “Easy, baby girl. You got this.” My stomach tightens with a mix of nerves and anticipation, but the closeness of him, the warmth of his hand over mine, and the steady rhythm he sets make me want to try too.

I lift it toward my lips, hesitating, eyes darting to him for reassurance. My chest feels tight, and I swallow hard, unsure if I can actually do this. “You alright?” he murmurs, thumb brushing my cheek, that lazy grin tugging at his lips. “Ain’t gotta rush it, ma.”

I nod, taking a shaky breath, and finally bring it to my mouth. I take a small puff, coughing almost immediately, my eyes watering. He bursts into a low, rumbling laugh, catching me in his arms before I can wobble.

“Aww, that’s my girl” he says, pressing a soft kiss to my temple, teeth grazing lightly in that playful way he does. “Told you, you good.”

He holds me close, chuckling low, hand resting heavy on my waist as he takes the blunt from my fingers, letting his brush mine a few seconds longer than necessary. “Aight, shawty… lemme show you how it’s really done.” He takes a quick, smooth puff himself, letting the smoke curl lazily around.

He lifts the blunt to my lips again, tilting my head gently with his other hand. “Nah, nah… don’t just pull it in like that,” he murmurs, voice low and drawling, thumb brushing my cheek. “Breathe slow, steady… let it fill your lungs nice and easy. You feel me?” I nod, biting my lip nervously. “Okay… slow and steady.”

“Yup” he murmurs, face brushing mine, breath warm against my skin. “Relax, ma. Ya got this.” He moved the blunt in his hand closer to me and I try to mimic his rhythm, drawing in a deeper, slower hit. My chest fills with a sharp, sweet, burn, and my eyes water just a little. I cough lightly, sputtering, and he while wacthing me carefully, bursts into that low, amused chuckle again

“Shh… it’s cool, lil mama,” he murmurs, nipping gently at my shoulder, that playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Everybody cough their first time… but look at you, you actually did it right and lookin’ cute as hell doin' so.”

I groan softly, half embarrassed, half flushed from how close he is. “Cute?” He grins, thumb tracing lazy circles along my ribs. “Yeah, cute,” he drawls, voice low and amused. “Hot, too. sittin’ here all shy, actin’ like you don’t know what you doin’, got me feelin’ some type of way.”

I shake my head, still fighting a smile, and take the blunt from his hand. One deep breath. Slow, steady, just like he said. The smoke pulls smooth this time, sliding easy into my lungs. No cough, no stumble. Just warmth spreading through my chest.

He watches, that lazy grin tugging at his lips, eyes half-lidded and amused. I exhale slow, the smoke drifting between us, and his grin widens.

“You killin’ it, ma,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing, that hint of pride slipping through his drawl. “One more hit, and you gon’ think you a pro.” I glance up at him, the warmth in his tone easing the nerves that had been sitting heavy in my chest. The light catches on his grin; he looks equal parts amused and impressed.

“Am I really doing it right?” I ask, the words coming out softer than I meant. He leans back a little, watching me with that lazy confidence that never really fades. “Yeah, you got it,” he says, a small chuckle rumbling in his throat. “Easy now, ma… don’t clear the whole thing on ya own.”

I can’t help but giggle, brushing his hand lightly. “Whoa… I think I’m feelin’ a little… uhm.” He lets out a low chuckle, leaning closer so I can feel the warmth of his breath. “Mm… that’s exactly it. Ride it out, ma. Don’t overthink, just let it hit.”

He chuckles, low and rough, leaning closer. “Aight… lemme show you a lil trick, ma.” He takes the blunt again, puffing slowly, then pulls it back and exhales a perfect little ghost ring, a neat circle of smoke floating in the air between us. “Aight, it’s kinda wasteful with a blunt, but don’t matter, showin’ you’s the point.”

I blink, impressed, mouth falling slightly open. “Woah… how did you-” He grins, teeth flashing. “Patience, shawty. Watch close.” He pulls a slow, controlled drag from the blunt, letting the smoke curl thick and steady in front of him. Then, with a subtle flick of his tongue and a slight push from his throat, he exhales a tight, concentrated ring that floats perfectly for a second before dissipating. “See that?”

I laugh softly, chest rising and falling, eyes sparkling even through the haze. “Woah… that’s… I didn’t even know smoke could do that.” He leans down, brushing his lips to my cheek. “Ain’t done yet, ma. You tryna try it?”

I hesitate, fingers brushing against his chest. “I… I don’t know if I can do that” He smirks, thumb brushing my jaw. “Relax, shorty. You won’t mess nothin’ up. Worst case, we laugh about it. You feel me?” He smirks, thumb brushing my jaw. “Wasting a little ain’t no biggie, I can snag a few grams outta August’s order.”

He smirks, thumb brushing my jaw, fingers lazy on my shoulder. “Aight, look… that’s a ghost, ma. Don’t yank the smoke, pull it slow, smooth, ya feel me? Then your mouth doin’ work, tongue ready for a lil push, lips chill. Tiny puff from the throat, let it float… boom. Ring or lil ghost, easy.”

He leans back, blowin’ another one, smoke twistin’ up like it got its own mind. “Watch me one more time, watch close. That’s how it’s done. You gon’ get it.”

“Bet you can,” he murmurs, fingers curling around mine, guiding my hand to the blunt. I mimic him, slow and careful. The smoke curls out, jagged at first, then I manage a smooth little... almost ring. His eyes widen just a little, and his grin spreads wide, genuine surprise lighting up his face. “Wait… hold up,” he says, chuckling low. “You… you actually kinda got it. smooth as hell. Didn’t expect you to hit that clean on the first try, ma.”

I laugh, a little proud, my nerves melting into something lighter. “Guess I had a good teacher.” He shakes his head, still smiling, eyes glittering. “Nah, you a natural, ma.” A low, rough chuckle escapes him as he catches my gaze. “You tryna learn another trick? Don’t gotta waste nothin’ this time.”

He takes another big hit but doesn’t inhale it fully. Instead, he leans in, lips brushing mine, teasingly slow. I can taste the faint sweetness of the smoke on his breath before it enters my mouth. A thin stream of it drifts between us, and I instinctively suck in a little, letting it linger on my tongue before I swallow and exhale. My eyes flutter shut, startled, the warmth of him mixing with the soft, hazy smoke curling around us, making my chest tighten in a rush of nerves and excitement.

I just sit there for a moment, mouth slightly open, words stuck, still caught off guard, still feeling the warmth of his lips and the sharp burn in my lungs.

He leans back, that lazy grin tugging at his lips, eyes glittering. "This might just be my new favorite part about smokin’ with you,” he says, voice low and teasing, thumbs brushing mine. I blink, heat rushing to my cheeks, words failing me. “I… uh…”

He laughs low, shaking his head, eyes glinting. “Don’t worry, lil mama… I know you felt that. You think you can copy it… or too scared to try?” I glance down at the blunt in my hands, heart hammering. “I… I can try,” I murmur, fingers curling around it tighter, eyes locked on him.

He smirks, leaning a little closer, eyes teasing. “Aight… Show me what you got.” I take a shaky breath, lifting the blunt to my lips. Smoke fills my lungs, thick and warm, and I glance up at him, catching his teasing grin.

Leaning in, I press my lips to his, careful at first, then bolder, letting a thin stream of smoke escape from my mouth into his as we kiss. My chest tightens, nerves and excitement twisting together, and I feel him chuckle low against my lips, thumbs brushing my hands as he guides me gently.

When we pull back slightly, the haze between us curls and drifts, and I can’t help but grin, heart hammering. “Did… did I do it right?” I murmur, breath warm and shaky. He smirks, voice low and teasing. “Hell yeah, lil mama… smooth as fuck. You got me buzzin’.” I nod, heart thudding, leaning fully into him, lips parting slightly as he presses another kiss to mine.

“Mm… that’s my girl,” he murmurs, teeth grazing my jaw, hand sliding from my waist to my hip, holding me close.

Ima defo keep writing more Plug!/drug-user Jabber stuff. And that Jabber x Reader x Zanka fic in my drafts... is also waitin for me to finish… aaaaa!