#plug aot

connie springer. everybody knew him. not just because he was always posted outside the student center in some jordan fit with his chains glinting every time it hit the sun, but because if anybody wanted to smoke, connie was the one they hit.

you clicked over to his instagram. you followed him, but never actually talked. he posted pics like he lived in his own music video—car shots, money fans, flicks with his boys.

your fingers trembled a little before you typed.

hey do you sell?

you hesitated for about three seconds before pressing send.

the reply came fast.

damn ma, you finally textin me? 👀

what u need?

you bit your lip, typing slow.

um just weed. i’ve never tried it before tho.

a bubble popped up right away.

oh so u hittin me up for your first time?

i feel special.

you rolled your eyes even though your cheeks felt hot.

ur literally the only person i know who sells.

nah don’t play me like that

you lowkey been tryna text me, huh

connie. please. 🧍🏽‍♀️

relax, i’m just messin wit you

how much you want?

you hesitated again.

i don’t know… like, enough for just me?

another quick reply.

cute.

i’ll put you together somethin light.

but if it’s your first time, u gotta let me pull up n show you how. can’t have you tweakin by yourself.

you stared at the screen.

you don’t have to.

nah what kinda plug would i be if i left you hangin?

plus, i been waitin on u to hit me up.

your chest felt tight, like he could see straight through your nerves.

i guess that’s fine.

bet. send the addy.

you cleaned your room without even meaning to, folding the throw blanket on your bed twice over and spraying your perfume around like it’d cover the nerves sitting in your chest.

when the knock finally came, your stomach dropped.

you opened the door and there he was—hoodie half zipped over a white tee, sweatpants, and his signature jordans like he didn’t even try but somehow still looked put together. his chain caught the hallway light when he grinned.

“damn,” he leaned on the doorframe, eyes dragging over you, “you lookin like i just interrupted somethin important.”

“just… cleaning,” you muttered, stepping aside.

he walked in easy, daps you up like you been friends. he smelled good like something clean, faint cologne under the sharp scent of what he carried in the bag.

“so this your lil spot?” he asked, looking around while heading to your room and dropping his bag on your desk. “cozy.”

you followed and sat on the bed, tucking your legs under you. “yeah. nothing special.”

he pulled out a small jar, the green inside glinting under the light. he set it down, then looked at you with that same smirk.

“you nervous?”

you swallowed. “a little. i don’t know what to expect.”

he chuckled low. “nah, don’t trip. i got you. first time, you gon be chillin. just listen to me, aight?”

you nodded.

he pulled out papers, started breaking it down with quick fingers like he’d done this a million times. you watched, fascinated by the way he moved so precise but casual.

“so what made you finally hit me up?” he asked without looking up, voice smooth.

you hesitated. “just wanted to try something new, i guess. everyone else is doing stuff for spring break, and i feel like i never do anything.”

he looked up then, raising a brow. “you? nah, you don’t strike me like everybody else. you different. i can tell.”

heat rose in your cheeks. “different how?”

“innocent,” he said simply, licking the edge of the paper before sealing it. “but in a good way. makes me wonder what else you never tried.”

you tried to laugh it off, heart skipping. “probably a lot.”

he leaned back, holding up the joint. “well, lucky for you, i’m a good teacher.”

he lit it, took the first pull, then handed it over. “alright, baby steps. hold it like this ma… yeah. now just pull in slow. don’t force it.”

your lips touched the end and you inhaled. it burned, sharp in your chest, and you coughed right after.

he laughed softly, rubbing your back. “it’s cool, it’s cool. everybody coughs the first time. means it’s hittin.”

you looked at him, watery-eyed but trying to smile. “that was awful.”

“nah,” he shook his head, grin tugging at his mouth, “you look cute tryna thug it out. go ‘head, try again.”

you did, slower this time, letting the smoke roll out your mouth.

“there you go,” he said low, watching you. “you a natural.”

a warmth started creeping into your body, not just from the smoke but from the way he kept looking at you like you were letting him in on a secret.

it didn’t take long before you felt it like a slow warmth stretching across your body, the edges of the room softening, your shoulders dropping loose for the first time in weeks. you leaned back against your headboard, blinking at connie.

“oh my god,” you whispered, laughing under your breath, “everything feels… weird.”

he smirked, already leaning back in your desk chair with the joint between his fingers. “weird how?”

“like… floaty. and my face feels funny.”

he chuckled, low and easy. “yeah, that’s the high. you relaxin now. don’t fight it.” he passed the joint back, watching the way your fingers brushed his. “you look cute like this.”

you rolled your eyes, taking another drag just to prove you could. “you keep saying that.”

“cuz it’s true.” he got up from the chair, coming to sit next to you on your bed, his shoulder brushing yours. “you don’t even know. everybody on this campus loud as hell, tryna be seen. but you? sittin here mindin your business, doin hair, actin like you ain’t the prettiest one around.”

your chest fluttered at the way he said it, casual but sure. “you don’t even know me.”

“i know enough,” he said, eyes on you now. “know you been tryna stay lowkey. know you the type that don’t hit nobody up unless you really trust ‘em. so when you texted me? yeah, i noticed.”

you shifted under his gaze, the smoke making it harder to keep your thoughts straight. “i just… i didn’t know who else to ask.”

“nah,” he said, grin tugging his lips, “you coulda asked a few people. but you wanted me. i ain’t mad at it.”

your laugh slipped out soft, shaky. “you’re so full of yourself.”

he leaned closer, shoulder pressing into yours now, his voice dropping like he was letting you in on something. “nah, i’m just observant. and right now, i’m seein you relaxin for the first time since i walked in. kinda like it.”

you didn’t say anything, too busy feeling how close he was, how warm his arm felt against yours.

he tilted his head, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “tell me what’s runnin through your head right now.”

you hesitated, words sticking in your throat. “that… you’re kinda… different than i thought.”

his grin widened slow. “different good or different bad?”

“good,” you admitted, your voice almost a whisper.

he nodded, satisfied, passing you the joint one last time. “that’s all i needed to hear.”

the high hit all at once—like the world softened, music humming low from the hallway outside sounded sweeter, and every color in your room felt warmer. you leaned back against the wall, giggling without meaning to.

“why does everything feel… like this?” you asked, covering your face with your hands.

connie laughed, pulling them down gently. “cuz you high, ma. welcome to the club.”

“i feel stupid,” you admitted, though you were still smiling.

“nah, you look happy. i like it.” he stretched out on your bed now, one arm behind him, the other close enough that his hand brushed your thigh when he moved. “you should smile more.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard. “you say stuff like that too easy.”

he smirked, tilting his head. “and you believe it too easy. means you not used to hearin it.”

you tried to roll your eyes, but it came out softer this time, your cheeks warm. the high made it impossible to hide how flustered you felt.

“see?” he teased, leaning a little closer. “you tryin to fight it, but you like hearin me talk to you like that.”

you shook your head, but he just grinned, brushing the back of his fingers over your hand where it rested on your leg. the touch was light, but it sent heat rushing through you.

“you okay?” he asked, voice low now.

you nodded, staring at his hand against yours. “just… feels different.”

“yeah?” his thumb traced along your knuckles lazily. “good different?”

you swallowed. “yeah.”

he leaned in then, his breath warm against your cheek. “you want me to stop?”

your chest tightened, the question spinning in your head before you managed to shake it. “no.”

that grin tugged at his lips again, but softer this time. he shifted closer, tilting his head just enough for his nose to brush yours, testing the space.

and then you closed it.

his mouth was warm, the kiss unhurried—like he wasn’t in a rush, just letting you feel it. he tasted faintly like smoke and mint gum, his lips moving slow against yours, his hand sliding from your knuckles to hold your jaw gently.

when he finally pulled back, just barely, he kept his forehead against yours, his voice low and teasing.

“told you… i’m a good teacher. lemme teach you something else.”

next thing you know, connie has you on your knees, sunken into the carpet while your hands gripped the sides of the mirror, bent forward just enough to see your own reflection staring back. connie on his knees behind you, one hand firm on your lower back, the other guiding himself against your folds.

“damn,” he muttered, eyes locked on the way you looked spread out for him, “you don’t even know how fine you look right now. first time and you already got me losin my mind.”

the blunt from earlier still lingered on your lips, but all you could focus on was the stretch when he pushed in slow, inch by inch. your mouth fell open at the burn, your body tight around him.

“shhh,” he soothed, rubbing circles into your hip with his thumb. “relax for me, baby. breathe… yeah, just like that. takin me so good.”

you whimpered, watching your own face twist in the glass as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours.

“eyes up,” he told you, leaning over to kiss your shoulder. “don’t run from it. i want you to see how perfect you look takin this dick.”

he pulled back, sliding out halfway before sinking into you again, slow enough to make your legs tremble.

“fuck, you so tight,” he groaned, grip tightening on your waist. “like this pussy was waitin on me.”

you moaned, the sound muffled against your arm, but he reached forward, tugging it away.

“nah, let me hear you. don’t hide nothin from me.” his thrusts picked up, steady but deep, every stroke making your reflection shiver. “good girl… that’s it, moan for me.”

your body gave in, rocking back into him without thinking, your eyes glassy as you watched the way he filled you.

“look at you,” he said, voice dropping, “throwin it back already, like you know exactly what you doin. first time, and you movin like you mine for real.”

his words wrapped around you, pulling more sounds out of your chest with each thrust.

“say it,” he urged, pressing down on your lower back to arch you deeper. “tell me who you belong to.”

“y-you connie,” you gasped, nails clawing at the mirror frame. “i’m yours.”

his smirk showed in the reflection, sweat glinting on his neck as he drove into you harder, the slap of skin filling your dorm.

“that’s my girl,” he groaned, voice rough. “my pretty little first-timer, takin it like a champ.”

your arms shook against the mirror frame, each thrust making the glass rattle faintly. connie’s grip was firm on your waist, pulling you back onto him like he wanted you to feel every inch.

“fuck, you feel too good,” he groaned, eyes glued to where you joined in the reflection. “look at that—pussy grippin me like you don’t wanna let go.”

your mouth dropped open, moans spilling out unrestrained now. the burn of being stretched had melted into heat that curled low in your stomach, spreading sharp and sweet until it was all you could focus on.

“connie,” you whined, voice thin and shaky, “it’s— it’s too much.”

his hand slid from your hip to your stomach, holding you steady. “nah, baby, that’s not too much. that’s your body catchin up. you right there—i can feel it.” his voice dipped, steady and coaxing. “don’t fight it. let go for me.”

your legs trembled, your vision blurring as the rhythm of his hips drove into you. every snap against your ass echoed, every praise spilling from his lips made your chest tighten more.

“so good for me,” he muttered into your ear, leaning down until his chain brushed your back. “first time and you already makin me proud. keep them pretty eyes on the mirror. watch yourself cum on me.”

your body gave in before you could think, your knees nearly buckling as the orgasm ripped through you, sharp and overwhelming. you cried out, clutching the mirror frame like it was the only thing holding you up, your reflection a blur of glassy eyes and parted lips.

“thaaat’s it,” connie praised, voice rough but full of pride. “there she go. that’s my girl. tight as fuck, squeezin me just right.”

he slowed his thrusts but not stopping, letting you ride it out, one hand rubbing soothing circles over your hip while the other pressed against your stomach to ground you.

“breathe, baby,” he whispered against your neck, kissing the damp skin there. “you did so good for me. so fuckin good.”

your chest heaved as you blinked at your reflection, sweat shining on your skin, your body still trembling.

“see that?” he murmured, brushing your hair back so you had no choice but to look. “that’s what it looks like when i make you mine.”

your body was still twitching from the previous orgasm, forehead pressed to the cool glass while you tried to catch your breath. connie didn’t let go of your hips, his thrusts slowing only for a moment before he started rolling back into you again, deeper now, heavier.

“you feel that?” he groaned, dragging himself out slow just to slam back into your heat. “pussy still clenchin on me like you don’t wanna let go. you gon make me lose it, baby.”

you whimpered, your body sensitive, every stroke pulling more sounds out of you.

“mm, that’s it,” he muttered, teeth gritted as he kept his pace steady. “first time, and you lettin me fuck you like this. takin every inch like a good girl. look at you in the mirror, baby see how perfect you look gettin fucked?”

your eyes fluttered open, hazy, catching sight of yourself in the reflection—sweaty, hair messy, connie’s chain glinting against your back as he started thrusting into you again, his jaw tight with focus.

“god, you so fine,” he grunted, fingers digging into your waist. “tightest shit i ever had. you know that? nobody ever gon do you like me.”

his breathing turned ragged, thrusts getting rougher, hips smacking loud against your ass. he leaned over you, chest pressing to your back, his voice low and strained in your ear.

“say it again,” he demanded, voice shaking. “say you mine.”

“i’m yours,” you gasped, barely able to keep your grip on the mirror frame. “all yours, connie.”

“fuck,” he growled, slamming into you harder. “that’s it, baby. keep sayin it.”

“i’m yours,” you repeated, moaning loud as he drove into that spot again and again.

his rhythm faltered, his groans spilling into your neck as his hips stuttered. he pulled you flush against him, burying himself deep with one last thrust.

“shit—fuck—” his voice broke, muffled against your shoulder as he came, holding you tight while his release spilled hot inside you.

he stayed there, chest pressed to your back, both of you breathing hard, your reflections hazy with sweat.

after a long moment, he kissed your shoulder softly, his hands rubbing gentle circles on your waist.

“damn, baby,” he whispered with a lazy grin, still catching his breath. “first time and you already got me tappin out. told you—you was made for me.”