#plug au

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

So now here you are, smoking a joint with your plug. The harsh yet sweet aroma of weed filled his room. He passes the joint back to you letting you take a rip. You cough a little from the smoke clouding your lungs but still manage to have a smile. You pass the joint back to him without a word. Breaking the silence Miguel spoke in an almost slurred tone. 

“I know it’s not the weed speaking but has anyone told you you're so attractive, ma?” His veiny hand finds your thigh before rubbing the flesh without knowing. You immediately snicker as you answer back in a flirty tone.

“Hmm no Miggy they haven't” he trails his hand closer and grips your inner thigh while chuckling, you two were just on the moon. He replies to your comment after taking a hit.

“Honestly I should show you how attractive you are to me.” your eyes widened at his statement but you were intrigued at most. The way his shirt hugged him, the way you can see his cock print through his sweatpants. It was all so feverish. He comes closer to you with his lips up to your neck making the hair stand up practically. 

“You smell so good.” he finally says before placing kisses on your neck making you moan. His kisses go lower to your chest. He takes off your shirt revealing your skin to him. He instantly kisses your neck now having his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. The smell of weed and anticipation is clouding the room. Your panties are already soaked from when he first called you attractive. Before you know it he speaks in an entertaining tone.

 “How about you taking it out for me?”

 You instantly pull down his pants and his underwear. His cock bounces to his stomach before standing back up. His cock was decorated with some hair. Your breath caught in your throat after realizing how hot it was. You knew it was wrong but it felt so damn good, you can say that.

He puts the palm of his hand on your cheek as he rubs your bottom lip with his thumb, he looks down at you with love in his eyes. Were you always this pretty? 

“Look at those pretty lips.” 

he says in an admiring tone. You faintly smile before giving a couple of kitten licks and then actually putting your whole mouth on the tip. 

“You like that?” You mumble out on his cock. Miguel could’ve just came right then and there. He saw how sexy you looked with your soft lips wrapped around his cock like a glove.

 “There you go” he muttered under his breath. You push your head deeper onto his cock but you choke on it due to your horrible gag reflex. You pull back with a saliva string pulling with you.

“Hmm, Miguel..” 

 you say, slurring your words a bit. You were cockdrunk from him. 

“You did such a good job, didn’t you? m’ so proud baby.” He spoke out while looking down at you. He breaks the moment of silence by saying. 

        “Think you can bend over for me mami?” He says before stroking his cock. You bend over to feel his huge hands grabbing and kneading the fat of your hips and pulling your pants down. He gasps and chuckles when he sees your panties with a wet spot making it noticeable. “I see you getting wet for me.” He says.

 He pulls your panties to the side to see your plump lips soaked It just looks like you wanted to get fucked by him. He knows what you need, Just let him guide you. Suddenly you feel his fat mushroom tip lay on your clit. 

“Are you ready bunny?” He just makes you feel mushy inside even if he’s saying simple things. You nod your head before preparing for his cock. He shoves his tip in, You whimper as you can feel being stretched out by his thick tip. 

“Awhh shit. Your pussy’s huggin’ around me.” He moans out. He can even admit that your pussy did make him moan and groan. He has fucked many girls but they all just felt like he had to do it. With you, it feels special. 

“Hmm, M-miggy..please move..” you moan. Your moans sounded pornographic. He bucks his hips into you while grunting. 

“Ah this pussy got superpowers or somethin’ hm?” He jokes before smacking your plump ass. He loves the way it jiggles when he smacks it even lightly. 

“God d-damn.” You manage to yelp out. He thrusts deeper into your pussy. “Fuck you're gonna make me cum. Can’t believe I have your cute ass under me.” 

After minutes of moaning and groaning, you feel a full feeling. His cum sprays inside your cunt and you feel it Immediately fill your cunt up. When he pulls out his soft cock you can feel you can feel his cum leak out of your cunt.

“Your mine got it? my stock is coming soon but you're mine from now on,” he says hugging you to the bed and holding you fairly close to him. You feel butterflies roam around your stomach when you see his hand on your lower waist. Before you even spoke you heard his snores filling the room. You giggle quietly at the fact that he fell asleep in a second.

You

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. 0:69

‘Just come upstairs plssss, I’ll slip you extra’

[✓] 23:56

Aizawa huffed at your whining. He knew better than to do it but tonight he wasn't being stern with himself. The last time you had come down to his car to get what you normally did, it went in a whole other direction that wasn’t intended.

You were a good person.

Meaning you were currently in a high level of schooling, soon to graduate and finally full send into your desired career. You were dressed somewhat modestly in your day to day life, avoided using unnecessary swear words and was always polite when needed. You were a model student, rounding up to be on the dean's list as the final exam period rounds the corner. You often helped out with your community and even volunteered in a soup kitchen.

Not to mention, you were the kid parents dreamed of. Being the first born you didn't really have that many choices. You were already in a serious relationship, the guy you were with had a lot more destined for him as well so it only made sense for you two to be together. You had met them through your parents, actually. Thankfully they weren't ugly nor was they that bad to be around. But did you really want to marry?

To everyone else, you were a “good person”. But your underlying secrets said otherwise.

Aizawa was starting to question it himself. The last time you two had crossed the line hadn't been the first. You see, your “good” reputation was only merely an act. You weren't the worst person on the planet, no, but there was a lapse in your judgement as you slowly felt like your life was a lie. The somewhat arranged relationship and the hand held future into what you should desire instead of what you actually wanted to do caught up to you eventually.

You had met Aizawa a little bit more than a few years ago through a friend of yours. At that time, you were single and his romantic situation wasn't any knowledge to you. Not that it was any of your business to begin with. That night you had bought from him was your first time smoking, ever. Your friends had convinced you to do it and you weren't entirely against the idea so you went along with it.

It was at some beach party that he could only care so much about and he was in a mode operating strictly for business despite knowing the party owners himself. Though when you had first come up to him, weary and looking the prettiest you've ever been. Shouta had seen so many people in his lifetime, but looking at you for the first time had him starstruck. It was almost embarrassing how he nearly zoned out when you two caught eye contact. The way your lips moved and how you hugged your body as a sign of needing direction in the whole process intrigued him. You stuck out like a sore thumb between you and your friends that accompanied you, even though you all clearly arrived together.

The moment he first saw you replayed in his head as he stood at your door, waiting for you to let him in. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this, interfering with your life but it wasn’t all his fault; it took two to tango.

“Leave your shoes at the door,” Your voice called out to him. His eyes refocused as you turned around, eyes taking more than enough time to take your appearance. A hoodie that fit your figure in a way he knew wasn't yours covered your torso while a small pair of shorts hugged your ass all too well and only a pair of socks to keep you comfortable in your warm but drafty apartment is all you wore. Focused, that's what he needed to be. That's what he should be reminding himself of. This should only be for business.

He absentmindedly does as you say though, the process of removing his shoes easier than usual since he adorned a comfortable pair of designer slides (gifted to him by someone close to him, of course). You instruct him to rest the grams on your living room's coffee table, already giving away how many times Shouta shouldn't have been in your apartment. Still, he wordlessly pads his way to the room, his feet covered in socks also thudding against the padded floor.

Shouta follows your instructions on placing the bag on your table and promptly attempts to leave before making any choices he'd regret later. Your plans were different as you stood in the doorway, not blocking the walkway at all, but for sure trapping him. You glance at him with a pout full of confusion and longing.

“Could you help me roll one? You know I struggle with it.”

His eyes were glued to your plump lips as you talked, mesmerized at your words. That was a damn lie and both you knew it. Though he couldn't hold back the gulp as he nodded his head in hesitation, glancing towards the door behind you, reluctant to the idea of a special someone waltzing in that door. As if reading his mind, you smile and walk towards him, shoulder briefly checking his even with the amount of room that should've been left between you two.

“My fíance is out of town, they usually help me.” You get yourself comfortably sat on your couch and beckon him over, and pat the free seat next to you for him to sit. You don't wait for him as you rest your rolling tray on the table. “Come sit,”

And so he does.

With his hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes glued to the product he brought to you. He walks around the table to not interrupt you and gingerly sits as requested. If anyone walked in on you, there would be no mistaking the tension in the air. Shouta’s body posture was more than stiff as he tried not to pursue you. He clears his throat once you've finally pulled your gram out, getting your shredder to help mince the plant.

“None of your friends are available?” Shouta asks, leaning back in to your sofa as you busy yourself with preparation. You shrug and glance at him with a grin.

“You're a friend, no?” You tease him as you beckon him to get closer and move the tray in front of him.

He rolls his eyes as he gets busy, glaring at the rolling paper as he lines up the sativa. “You know what I mean.”

But you have no answer for him. Instead he watches as you purse your lips and cross your arms, body language closing him out without you having to verbally say it. He feels a little smug though, finally being able to turn the tables on you in this situation instead of the opposite.

He sits back as he finally finishes up the roll and glances around for the lighter. Although at this time you refused to make eye contact, you read his actions pretty well and dig into your hoodie’s pocket for the pink lighter. You hold it out to him once your fish it out, palm open with invitation.

“Open.” Shouta says curtly, but you understand what he meant all too well. He holds up the blunt and you grin happily in content. You scoot closer to him, the two of your bodies now touching each other as you leaned closer to his hand. You look up at him as he gently places the blunt to your mouth, your hand quick to top off the process by lighting it up.

You take a deep drag from it and lightly pull away, holding in your breath before puffing it out in a soft breath. You hum happily as you lean back against your sofa, still sitting close to him as he takes his own turn in having a drag of his own. The exchange is continued in silence minus the bustling city noises and people outside to accompany it. As the air grew thicker in scent with weed, so did the tension between both of you.

As you sat back with your body language open and muscles relaxed, his large and heavy hand rested on the inside of your thigh, squeezing every few moments or so. The light movement had you giggling—mixed between the airy headed sensation filling your senses and the tips of his fingers itching for more had you eager to receive it. Sharing another puff you gently pass it to him and use both of your hands to guide his wandering one straight to your clothed core, the only thing stopping him from properly touching you is the thin material or your shorts. His hand palms your pussy through the material, his unabashed groping bringing a light moan from you. You open your legs further in an attempt to encourage him further, the gesture working.

Though, Aizawa pulls away, ignoring your whine in protest and snubs the end of the tiny end of the blunt onto the rolling tray. He finally sits back and pats his thigh for you to climb up on it, and you happily follow his lead. In a few seconds you're climbing over his lap comfortably, and sitting across it as your hands find his neck in solace. Your eyes are lidded and already heavy with arousal, needing nothing more than to take him.

He isn't in the mood to play coy either as his hands slip down to hold your ass and thigh respectively. He gives your skin a squeeze and you finally lean in to plant a messy kiss against his. It takes everything in Aizawa to hold back the groan that threatens to leave his lips, mouth moulding to yours as you both try to develop a rhythm that worked for both of you. You were a grinning mess trying to get into the motion, pride already swelling within you as you could feel him poking at the side of your body. Of course without hesitation you palmed him, needing not to shy away from him anymore.

You tease his lower lip by giving it a small bite as you pull away and look down to watch yourself palm at his building erection. Usually at this time you'd drop a remark but you were too thirsty to even do so. It'd only been a few days since you've gotten some and you were fiending for him. As his eyes flicker back up at yours, you glance back at him and lean in to take his lips with yours again. It's intoxicating how he has a soft dominant nature to him; the way Aizawa’s mouth overtook yours was so natural and steady. Not too much nor too little. You were so lost in his kisses that you didn't even notice you were switching positions with him until you were properly straddling his lap and your hands were resting on his shoulders.

“Ride it.”

He had said in a haze, glaring eyes staring back at yours with no patience behind them. Despite you two only making out and petting for only so long you feel giddy to finally get on with it. You slowly nodded your head as you carefully tried to get off his lap to remove your shorts. Aizawa did his part in reaching into his back pocket and only letting down his pants only enough to let his cock out. Due to his inebriation he wasn't the hardest as he typically is, but that'll all change once the real part comes in.

Your eyes quickly scanned the scene as you reached under the cabinet of the coffee table for your lube to help slick you up, not having much foreplay beforehand. Once you grabbed it you happily straddled him again and put a healthy serving on his awaiting cock. Thankfully he had already wrapped himself up so you didn't have to fumble with that this time around. Once you put the amount you were comfortable with, you got in position and lined yourself up on his tip. You toyed with your lip as you slowly sunk yourself onto it, you two pulling in a deep breath as you continued to do so. It wasn't until you had basically taken in most of his length did you two exhale in relief, the sensation so much better than you remembered.

Aizawa's hands find your hips to help guide you once you start to move, a heavy moan escaping your lips as his sizable hands gripped your skin. You dared to look back at yourself, out of breath and riding off pure ecstasy and lust. You watched as he grew more greedy, instead of going with your original pace and speeding you up as he sunk himself deeper into your greedy cunt. Because that's exactly what you were. Greedy.

You lean your body more against his as you try to adjust, the sound of his cock hitting up into you growing louder by the second. Skin slapping against skin, with the occasional sound of his hand slapping your ass for good measure. He wasn't discreet in checking you out either, every so often glancing towards the mirror you had in your living room that perfectly gave him a view of you riding his cock like no tomorrow. Or at least he was making you do so.

Your whimpers filled the room as you were starting to get overstimulated by the second. You were mumbling his name and cursing as if you were trying to rid of him, eyes closed in bliss and hands tightly fisting the couch that sat behind him and his sweatshirt. Against your better judgment and his, you didn't even think to question him sucking and biting your neck, leaving evidence with his kisses that he was claiming someone that will never be his. A sharp nip on your skin is what catches your attention, a frustrated groan coming from you once you realize.

“Ngh…” You start to speak but fail miserably. As best as you could lean away from his lips without sacrificing your position didn't work as Aizawa wraps his arms around your waist and effortlessly flips you two over on the couch.

With his cock still in you, he pounds into your wet pussy, mouth once again on yours and swallows your vocal sounds. Your hands are tangled in his black hair as you have completely forgotten about your complaint, legs wrapped around his hips to help lock him in. You try your best to gyrate up against him, head tilting back as you near your first intimate high for the night.

You breathe out his name in the form of his nickname, the sensation of hearing you whisper for him against his ear bringing a guilty shiver down his spine. He even lets out a small groan as you manage to clench unbelievably tight around him as you come undone, the feeling almost unbearable. He dishes out a few more thrusts of his until he's filling the condom he wore. Unlike you though, the kisses you delivered onto his neck had him sobering up fast and quickly coming to terms with tonight's exchange. Aizawa couldn't bring himself to judge you as a person, either.

Knowing he has his own partner waiting at home, oblivious.