Best Friend Yan offering Stoner Reader a friendly reach around while they're snuggled together in his bed, ridding out their shared highs, because if Reader is as cuddly as teddy bear with a little bud in them - they're out like a light post nut and a few more puffs in their system.
Head in the clouds, clinging onto the nearest person/thing in the vicinity. Slurring out half hearted apologies for stealing their best bud's bed for the night because there's no way they're making it home now. Said friend's hand still firmly lodged down their sweatpants as they drift in and out of consciousness - completely unbothered.
Yan spilt over potentially running the moment snapping photos to commemorate the moment- Knowing full well memory alone will never be enough
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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warnings: cnc, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, squirting, making out, sexting, piv, dry humping, reader is a stoner!
a/n: HAPPY 420! i love jack sm i just want him to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. sigh.
.⊠ĘË older!bf jack abbot who wakes you up with head after long night shifts. he loves you when youâre asleep, youâre so soft and pliant, he rolls under the covers and opens your supple legs apart, his mouth practically watering at the sight of your panties under one of his shirts. a cute small wet spot adorns on the front of them, making his fat cock throb as he slowly slides the cloth to the side and dives his tongue into your hot cunt.
.⊠ĘË older!bf jack abbot who has a stoner!gf so when they both have days off, youâll smoke a joint on the couch together and make out while youâre only wearing a baby tee and cotton panties. he also loves to finger you while youâre high so you can squirt all over him. <3
.⊠ĘË older!bf jack abbot who is addicted to sexting you. anytime you two arenât together, bam! heâs sending you a photo of his hard cock that his black scrubs are sculpting oh so beautifully. and maybe even sending you a video of him pumping his dick in a bathroom stall.
.⊠ĘË older!bf jack abbot who always talks you through it when heâs fucking your brains out, telling you, âi know, baby, i know, youâre taking this cock so fucking good. yeah, thereâs my good girl.â as soft plaps from his hips meeting yours fills the room.
.⊠ĘË older!bf jack who will take a few edibles with you and fuck you while heâs fully dressed and while youâre naked. he loves the power it gives him. heâll give your cute nipple a pinch before sucking on it as heâs plowing into your pussy with the dirtiest, wettest sounds youâve ever heard.
.⊠ĘË older!bf jack who loves to dry hump. youâll be in a baby-tee and panties and heâll be in his scrubs or maybe even his swat uniform! prosthetic off, of course. you want him to be as comfortable as possible! his large hands grip the fat of your hips as he drags your wet cunt onto his clothed hard cock.
one of your friends' friends invites you over to get high with him, but when it starts to hit a little too hard, you can't control yourself and neither can he <3
shoko introduced you to suguru months ago when she was throwing a small party at her house, just a group of like six people smoking and eating pizza while music played.
since that day, you've seen him a few times. at concerts when shoko wants everyone together, sometimes at her house to smoke with you guys or make homemade edibles, or just around the area.
but out of the blue, he texted asking you to come over and after talking with shoko about it, you decided to say yes.
an impulsive move after getting her approval, and you've been second guessing it a bit.
and here you are now: standing outside of a dark house in the middle of a culdesac. it's late afternoon, purple and pinks breaking through the clouds as the sun sets for the night.
as you approach the door, you hesitate to knock for a split moment. it was really random of him to ask for a visit, but at the same time you did speak with him a lot at shoko's.
and her approval surely means you're fine, right?
after taking in a deep breath to help ease the nerves, you go for it. small raps against the door with a shaky fist, awkwardly looking around at the windows beside the door to see orange lights dimly brightening the space.
wind chimes echo from across the street, distracting you momentarily as you glance in their direction.
the soft patter of footsteps comes from inside of the house and you face the door, nerves weighing in your chest as he pulls it open and smiles down at you politely.
"hey, come on in."
you freeze under his gaze, flushing at the realization that this is your first time seeing him with his hair down. and wow⊠he looks so good.
his tattoos are almost amplified with the way his long hair stretches down his shoulders, the silver chain on his neck a pop atop inky artwork.
you have to shake yourself from your thoughts, a simple 'hi' just barely coming out as you force an awkward smile. you really hope he didn't catch your gawking.
he moves out of your way and you immediately see the glowing light all around the house. it's almost overwhelmingly cozy, and there's a distinct scent that pours out as you walk inside.
a mixture of expensive incense and something almost sickly sweet, yet familiar.
you look around, taking in the soft darkness of the house. his living room sits just in front of you, a long couch paired with nice end tables beside it. the tv's on, some music playing quietly.
"i'm honestly surprised you said yes to this." he says from behind you, dipping past you and heading in the direction of another room. he motions for you to follow.
you raise your eyebrows as you head in behind him, the kitchen lit up with the same soft tones.
he's hovering at the counter, a tray sitting there with a bunch of little snacks.Â
"wait what, why?" you ask, stepping in next to him.
he shrugs, "i mean, it's not like we've hung out one on one before. wasn't sure if you'd be uncomfortable."
he passes you a small bag and you take it, reading the label before glancing up to him with narrowed eyes. "you sure you wanna give me this? and no, you're actually one of shoko's friends that doesn't seem to be a bad person."
it's a bag of flavored edible gummies, and it happens to somehow be your favorite flavor.
"just take it. shoko said those were your favorite."
you smile and open the package, eating a few and smiling at him. "thanks! i appreciate it."
you both head out to the living room, the bass of the song that's playing thrumming into the floors softly. you can feel the vague haze of the gummy settling in as you sit down on the couch.
at first, you don't feel much while you talk with him. he asks you what music you like, what shows you're into, about your hobbies, and you do the same back.
but after an hour, your body weighs down comfortably. you're sunk into the couch softly, curled on the side of the couch while he sits on the opposite end. the tv has some random show playing, the music still going but still a low volume.
the smell from earlier almost overwhelms you, just subtle hints of a sugary sweetness that enhances the incense scent tenfold.
you find yourself glancing at the strip of lights that traces the ceilings, that soft orange absolutely breathtaking with each passing moment.
at some point, that hazy filtered high turns into something⊠hotter. your mind wanders to places you're ashamed of, eyes glancing over to where suguru's seated on the couch.
the way his knees are folded open in front of him, the way he's sunk into the couch as well, the edge of his shirt is brushing against his stomach.
heat coils into your lower stomach and in between your thighs desperately, the tv and anything else around you suddenly too quiet as you rub your thighs together mindlessly.
you feel like you've been coated in syrup, a thick and heavy lust overtaking you.
sighing quietly to yourself, you stare at the tv and try to calm yourself down. you think about the scene on the tv, you remind yourself that this is a guy you barely know, but none of it stops the feeling.
you really want to fuck him.
the feeling of a slow sink into the couch coming closer to you has you freeze up, eyes looking to the side as you watch suguru stretch out a bit.
you swallow thickly, paying more attention to the tv than before. the last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable in his own home.
after a few minutes of steady breathing, you've calmed down enough to the point where the show is the perfect cover for the steady throb you feel in your clit. you haven't gotten this horny from an edible in so long.
it's like all of the other highs you've had where you haven't been decided to put all of that energy into right here and right now, almost painfully so.
you feel the warm pressure of his hand brush against your thigh, jumping and looking over at him with wide eyes.
he smiles a bit too bashfully, "my bad, didn't mean to do that."
you nod slowly, eyes pacing around the room. "okayâŠ"
eventually, his leg is pressed against yours. the steady heat coming from his body and seeping through your yoga pants with ease, a feeling that you have to focus hard on just to ignore it.
it's almost impossible, and panic unfurls through you at that.
everything around you feels like it's clouded in a haze, slowed and blurred at the edges until the simple touch of his leg against your thigh is all you focus on.
"you always get like this when you're high?"
your stomach drops, eyes wide as you lock onto his. he's smirking, head tilted innocently like he's just waiting for you to snap. "what do you mean?"
he shrugs, arm brushing against yours and sending tingles down your spine. "oh, just how locked in you seem to be on the tvâŠ"
you can't tell if he's being sarcastic, just nodding slowly.
his leg brushes against yours again and you can't stop the jolt that it sends through your body, the room suddenly feeling so small, as if the orange lights all around you have wrapped around your skin.
your breaths become shallow, uneven, and everything from the flicker of the tv screen down to the music playing is drowned out by your frantic pulse.
you turn fully now, facing him and looking up to meet his heavy lidded gaze.Â
it's so easy to see it in yours eyes now, too - pupils blown out, the quick rise and fall of your chest, and the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip.Â
you gasp when he moves. his hands grab at the fat of your hips, pulling you close until you're shakily landing on his lap with your thighs pressed into his.
your tits are squeezed together against his chest, overwhelmed with the sudden closeness that you weren't expecting.
"what's got you so nervous?" he asks calmly, as if he didn't just pull you onto him.
you swallow thickly, feeling the hard bulge that presses against your clothed pussy. you try to relax, calm your shaky body down, but the feeling of him pressed into you has you whining out before you can stop it.
every single little movement is amplified against your skin, and when his fingers dig into your hips you can't control the way they slide down and grind on him.
the lights around him refract into blurs as your eyes roll back, a gasp passing your lips as you throw your head back. "oh my godâŠ"
he pulls you suddenly by your waist closer, head picking up to meet his gaze. "this is the kinda high you are?"
you nod, head spinning when you do. your eyes feel like they could close at any moment, heavy but you're too pent up to succumb to any tiredness.
he smirks at the sight of you, leaning in close until his breath ghosts your lips. one of his hands wraps around your throat, clamping down until you're gasping for air.
you can't hold back anymore, you're just too far gone.
you push forward, lips smashing into his in a painfully messy kiss. the sounds fade to nothing around you, just you and him in the moment.
he reacts immediately, tongue sliding against yours in a way that you don't just feel in your mouth, it trickles down your spine and into your clit and sends you twitching against him.
"pleaseâŠ" you whine against his lips, grinding down against his hard cock through his pants.
you feel like you're melting, any hesitation and self respect gone. all you want or need right now is him touching you in some way.
his lips leave yours, trailing down your jaw and neck. you cry out when he bites down on the sensitive skin, fingernails digging into his thick forearms. the noises only get worse as he gets rougher.
"suguruâŠ" you whisper, pulling him back to kiss your lips again.
he grunts into your mouth when you push yourself down harder, his teeth sinking into your lip and biting down.Â
your hips roll against him repeatedly, a rushed and clumsy rhythm that has both of you panting into each other's mouths.Â
his hands slide to your ass to guide you, and soon enough both of you can feel that you've soaked through the thin fabric of your yoga pants. he pulls back, eyes filled with a darkness that sends heat to your lower tummy.
"fuck, you're soaked."
his hand slides between your bodies, thumb digging into the wet patch and grazing your clit through layers of fabric. it's just enough friction to make your hips stutter, whining out.
he doesn't stop, his thumb circling that soaked spot with a rhythmic, heavy pressure that makes your vision swim.Â
you're practically vibrating against him, the orange light of the room blurring into long, glowing streaks every time you try to blink.
"you're so sensitive," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your collarbone as he leans back in to bite at the skin there again. "every little touch has you jumping, hm?"
you can't even reply, a pathetic and broken moan leaving your throat as you try to grind back against his hand.
he slides his hand into the waistband of your pants, a smirk toying at his lips when he cups your dripping pussy. "you're actually dripping. didn't think you'd be so eager."
his fingers just barely slide between your folds, gathering slick and circling your clit. the haze has you cumming in seconds, loud wail passing your lips as you grind against his fingers.
your head's thrown back like before, hips shaking in the air as his fingers work you through it.
his touch is so amplified by the edible that you're already cumming again after the first time, another cry passing your lips as you sputter. "holy shit." is all he says, and you can just barely make out his blurry face through your teary eyes.
your brain's fluttering into nothingness already, hands on his shoulders as you hold yourself up.
"moreâŠ" you whimper, "i need more."
everything's too much - the orange of the lights too bright, the music suddenly too loud, and his touch too warm, almost as if he could burn you at any moment.Â
your hips stutter with the aftershocks of cumming so hard and fast, thin sheen of sweat gathering on your skin. you feel like you're still brimming with need.
he watches you with that dark, heavy-lidded stare, his fingers still slick and glistening in the dim light as he pulls them back just enough to look at what he did to you.
there's no time to catch your breath as he suddenly flips you over so you're pinned onto the couch under him, eyes widening as he fully envelops you.
there's nothing else for your eyes to focus on anymore, just trailing their way from his face down to each tattoo that's visible on his neck and down his arms as well.
but the music still thrums in your chest, spilling into your lungs with that smell you can't get enough of.
his eyes are on yours, filled with a hunger that you're sure is present in yourself too. he leans down, kissing you hard as his hands grab your wrists and pin your arms above your head.
"i don't think you've had enough yet."
the same hand from earlier drops down, sliding against your clothed body as he pushes your legs open with his own. he pulls back from your lips, chest heaving.
he pushes his fingers into your waistband again, smirking as two fingers push into your pussy and stretch you out. your back arches against the couch, a loud moan tearing through your throat.
he curls his fingers in you and they brush into that spot within you that has your eyes roll into the back of your head, every sensation blurring into an amalgamation of colors and sound.
his fingers are thick and overwhelming, loud squelches echoing in the living room with each drag into your body.
when your eyes open again, he looks like a god. he's practically glowing, his forearm flexing as he finger fucks you. his eyes are so calm that you could mistake it for boredom if he wasn't ruining you.
his thumb brushes against your clit and you shake while another orgasm hits you again, eyes clamping shut while your pussy clamps around his fingers.
"that's it, just like that." he rides you through your high, his fingers only leaving you after your body has stopped spasming periodically.
you try to catch your breath but fail to do so, focusing on how quickly your heart beats. but before that becomes the panic you know it will, he's picking you up as if you weigh nothing.
his hands cup your ass while your legs wrap around him, arms around his neck. "definitely time to use the bed. don't think i can hold back anymore."
each step is like a flash of the moment, your eyes barely open anymore as he carries you out of the living room and towards another door. the sudden quiet is louder than the noises before, that orange glow following.
after crossing the dark hallway, he opens the door to his bedroom and there's more orange - but this time it's from a simple salt lamp that's been placed in the corner on a table.
it's all your eyes can actually grasp, your high making paying attention to anything else feel like an olympic sport.
you gasp when he sits down on the bed, you still on top of him. the heat of his body is overwhelming, pressing into you and only amplifying the hazy state of mind you can't escape.
your hands fumble with the fabric of your shirt, a gentle tug against your skin as you pull it up and throw it off of you. your bra follows next, tits spilling out.
then your hands wander over his body, desperation hitting you while you try to pry his shirt off. he laughs at the sight, reaching and pulling his shirt off for you before he immediately settles his attention on your tits.
his hands knead them, goosebumps forming as you whine out when his fingers graze your hardened nipples.
your hips grind down against him again but he stops you, his hands leaving your tits and settling in a warning grip at your hips. "nuh uh, no more teasing. strip."
he pushes you off of him and your feet hit the cool wooden floors with a thud, your hands shakily pulling the dampened yoga pants and drenched panties down until they've pooled at your ankles.
"fuck, you're so hot. c'mere." you look up to see him naked now too, his cock thick and flushed between his thighs.
your breath picks up as you process his words, a heavy weighted wave of lust crashing down between your thighs. you sit down on his lap, your soaked pussy just resting against the bulge of him.
neither of you move for a few minutes, the pure pleasure of finally shredding layers of clothing enough to have you reeling.
you stare at each other before you can't stop yourself, leaning in and kissing him again. your hips move subconsciously, a delicious roll that has your puffy folds coat his cock in your slick.
he groans into your mouth at that, fingernails digging into your skin so hard it leaves small crescents behind in their wake.
you move over and over again, pussy dripping onto him and creating a wet mess between your bodies that's audible with every move.
his own hips press upwards and you nearly shout when the tip of his cock presses into your pussy. you pull back from the kiss, breath shaking frantically as you start sinking down on his length.
"that's it⊠nice and slow for me, baby."
every inch of him feels so fucking big it's overwhelming in itself, the friction of how thick he is making your brain melt into nothing. all you can hear is him and all you can feel is him. it feels like he's taken your body and mind as his own.
your hands scramble for purchase on his shoulders, nails dragging over the ink on his skin as you finally bottom out.
â"fuck," he hisses, his head falling back against the headboard. "you're so tight, i can'tâ"
âhe doesn't even finish the sentence before his hands are back on your hips, guiding you up and down his cock.
you give in to the feral urge that pulls in you, immediately finding a brutal pace on him that causes the bed frame to creak loudly and slam into the wall.Â
the tip of his repeatedly slams into your g spot, your eyes rolling back as your mouth falls open. your vision's back to fragmented lights that blur into each other.
"fuck," you cry out, "harder. i need more."
"yeah? you want more?" he asks, voice breaking.
you nod frantically, still bouncing on his cock. he stops your movements, forcing you off of him and tossing you around like you weigh nothing. you land on your stomach, a huff of air coming out as you arch your back.Â
he climbs onto you, a steady weight as he drags his cock up and down your folds before he's forcing himself in with one strong thrust.
your jaw drops at the new angle, the way his cock is flush against the deepest parts of you. you can barely think, but this almost feels more like a dream than real life.
"please moveâ" you start, and his hands grip harshly onto your hips while he begins a pace that ruins you completely.
the bed slams into the wall loudly, but your screams are a close contender for what's noisier. your face is buried in his pillows, that familiar smell blending with laundry.
you feel like you've lost your mind, only able to focus on the loud slap of skin on skin and how his cock fills you perfectly. Â
you canât even form words anymore, just broken, high-pitched sounds as your fingers claw at the sheets, trying to find anything to hold onto.
â"you like that, don't you?" he rasps, his voice dropping into that dark, low register that vibrates through your entire spine. "so high you can't even think... just taking me like a good little whore."
âhe shifts his grip, one hand reaching around to find your clit again, his thumb rough and insistent as he continues to drive into you from behind.Â
the dual sensation is too much. it turns you into a puddle. your pussy is pulsing around him, so tight and sensitive that every thrust feels like it's going to snap you in half.
"yes, yes, yes, yesâ" the words start falling out of your mouth in a frantic, mindless loop. you can't stop them. you're nodding your head into the fabric of the pillow, your hips jumping to meet every hit.Â
your vision whites out, eyes rolled back so hard it hurts as you cum on his cock. a strangled high-pitched scream tears through your lungs as your pussy clamps down on him repeatedly.
it hurts, how hard you cum. your whole body seizes up, and you can feel suguru shake then still. hot and thick ropes of cum fill you up, another whine passing your lips while you come down.
your chest moves rapidly to compensate for the irate pace of your heart, body shaking as he weighs down on you.
the high is still there, but itâs shifted nowârounded at the edges, turning into a weighted blanket thatâs pinning you to the mattress.
you canât even move your arms to push yourself up, just laying there face-down in his pillows while the smell of him and the faint orange glow of the salt lamp keep you anchored in the mattress.
you feel the bed shift as he moves, the weight of him lifting off you before heâs pulling the duvet over both of your tangled, sweat-slicked bodies. he tucks it around your shoulders with a gentleness that makes your heart squeeze.
â"you still with me?" his voice is a low, raspy rumble right against your ear, sounding completely wrecked.
âyou just hum, a soft and broken sound, shifting your head to the side so you can see him. his hair is a mess, fanning out over the dark pillowcases, and heâs watching you with those heavy-lidded eyes.
stoner!choso x stoner!reader / art by @:einruji07 twt
synopsis: you haven't seen your best friend all semester, so when you both finally get together and spark up, other things spark between you two?
mndi! (18+): smut, fluff, porn w light plot, oral (f receiving), elicit drugs, drug use, slightly subby choso, CHOSO WHIMPERS!?!?!, teasing, light banter, horny h!gh, love confession, making out, not slow burn AT ALL lmao, you know the vibes
âcho im so excited, we havenât done this in soooo longâ. you say while sparking up and walking towards the balcony in your room.
âme toooo, i did NOT think my t-break was going to be that long but its finally over.â he says while calmly finding a spot next to you on the floor by the balcony.
âdid you bring your own or did you want to just pass back n forth?â you asked slightly turning your head to your best friend and taking a hit of your j.
he turns his head toward you making direct eye contact, ânah, i wanna pass like we used too. but i did bring extra so we can smoke more if we need to.â
your eyes light up, PERF CHO YOU KNOW ME SAUR WELL, you say while having the widest grin on your face and leaning over to hug him.
he chuckles and hug you back, âokay okay i wanna smoke youâre hogging the j, he says while playfully rolling his eyes.
âHERE DAMNâ, you say while rolling your eyes and shoving the j towards him.
âoh donât be like that you know i love your hugsâ, he chuckles again and takes a deep inhale of the j between his fingers.
âyeah yeah whatever, whyâd you end up going on your t-break for so long again?â you say while you turn so your whole body is facing him.
he passed the joint back to you, âhmm honestly at first it was just to focus on school because finals were coming up, but i guess i got used to it and you were always busy so i didnât want to smoke with someone else.â
you take another hit, âomg cho iâm sppeeciallll,â you say with the cheesiest grin ear to ear, passing it back to him.
âwell of course,â he tilts his head at you and smiles while taking another hit.
you shuffle on the floor a bit to lay your head on chosoâs lap, âyou know why i was busy cho, between work and classes i was always exhausted. hell i barely smoked myself or even saw anyone at that.â
âyeah i know, im just glad weâre on break so we can actually hang out again i missed you.â he looked down at you in his lap while passing the joint back.
âme tooo cho, youâre the only one who understands me and my social battery never goes out when iâm with you. itâs nice it just feels like i can be myself at all times,â you say like taking a hit and passing it back.
âi feel the same exact wayâ, he says while leaning back on the carpet with one arm.
~innnnnhaaalleeeee~
you look up at choso, âCHO that was a big fucking hit you might as well keep that one since you wanna hog it,â you say half joking and half serious.
âfuck, iâm high as shit,â he smiles down at you with hazy eyes.
âoh ur cooked, give me my joint back ur done!â you say while reach up towards him.
âuh uh i got it,â he takes the joint out of his mouth and puts it between his index and middle finger while reaching down to your mouth, pressing the joint against your lips.
~innhalleee~
âcho i got it, i can hold it,â you say playfully while reaching for your joint.
ânah i got it i just want to watch you, let me know when you wanna take another hit.â
*badump*
âomg, that was so fucking hot,â you thought to yourself in your head. you always thought your secret crush on your best friend went away a long time ago but when he does stuff like this you get reminded of the feelings you pushed down many years ago.
âyeah, you like that?â he says while smirking at you.
âhuh, what are you talking about cho?,â you look up at him with confusion all while your mind is racing with thoughts of your best friend.
âyou thought what i did was hot, no?â he stares down at you in confusion
nonononono this canât be happening not today.
âi said that out loud?,â your jaw flings open with shock.
âmhm hmm, loud n clearâ, he smiles down at you again.
you slam your hands on your face to hide your embarrassment, âi need another hit now, im not high enough,â you say muffled by your hands.
you suddenly feel two hands prying your hands off your face.
âdonât be embarrassed, why do you think i did it in the first place.â he says softly while making direct eye contact with you.
âchoâ you say looking up at him with wide eyes.
he takes a deep exhale,âi may be high rn but in all honesty iâve always liked you, your smile, your laugh, your hugs, your personality, your heart, everything itâs always been you and i never knew how to tell you.
âcho are you serious rn,â your heart starts racing.
âyes, and i promise itâs not just because im high ive been wanting to tell you for a while but we never got to see each other in person,â he says while brushing your cheek lightly with his hand.
âplease pinch me,â you say stunned.
he chuckles, âwhat are you talking about.â
âi have to make sure this isnât a dream, because that would mean my dream is coming true.â you say gently while staring up at him with your eyes wide.
âhmm okieâ, choso leans down and kisses you gently. âdoes that work as a pinch?â
âmmmmm i donât knowww i think im still dreaming maybe one more.â
choso leans down again cupping your face with both of his hands, pressing his lips into yours.
kissing him this time felt different, it was even longer and slower. and after lapping his lips over yours you feel a slight tug at your bottom lip from his teeth as he pulls away from the kiss.
âtalk to meâ, he say quietly while looking down at you with loving eyes.
âthis is definitely not a dream,â you say with a small smile and your face heating up.
ânope,â he says while popping his âpâ.
âcho iâve been wanting you for so long you donât understand how happy i am right now.â
âyeah, you want me?â
âyes choso.â
âletâs do something about thatâ, he says while pulling you up into his lap.
your legs are straddling over his leg and you wrap your arms around his neck and passionately kiss him. he reaches down and wraps his arms tightly around your waist pulling you in closer.
âopenâ, he mutters while parting the kiss for a second. you listen and opened up your mouth a little more. he gently slid his tongue inside your mouth making out with you intimately, gripping your waist tightly.
âhaa-fuckâ, you moaned into his mouth while your tongues wrestled with eachother.
âhow long-haa have you liked me baby, he groans into your mouth kissing you deeper.
âshoo long cho-ahh fuc- so longâ, you say while reaching your hands to cup his face bringing him back in closer.
he parts the kiss and looks you up and down, âhm im glad i wasnât the only one,â he says while brushing his thumb over your lightly swollen lips.
you reach your arms back around his neck, âhow long have you liked me cho,â you say with innocent eyes filled with curiosity and lust.
âlemme show youâ, he leans all the back so heâs laying on the floor. âcome sit on my face princessâ.
âcho i havenât even had the chance to shower todayâ
âeven better, please come sit on my face i wanna taste you,â he whines out.
before you can answer he grips into the sides of your waist tugging on your shorts
âpleaseâ, choso whimpers out in a whisper
instead of answering you place your hands on top of his and tugged your shorts and panties off
âyouâre perfectâ, choso says, laying down while pulling your legs up towards his face. âand so is she.â
before you could even say anything chosoâs whole mouth is covering your pussy lapping his tongue up and down between your folds
âhaa- holy shi- cho this feels so fucking goodâ, you moan out gripping into his hair and riding his face
âyeah princess you like that, been waiting so fucking long to get a taste of youâ he says right before parting from your warmth and spitting right on your clit before he buries his face deeper into your cunt.
you start grinding against his tongue even harder chasing your release
âfuckkk yeah baby just like that use my tongue, i wanna see you get off on meâ
âcho i canât haa- please hel- ahhh help meâ, you spat out while desperately thrusting your hip while losing stamina
âiâve got you princess haaa- come on my tongueâ. choso saying while flattening his tongue and moving his head back and forth to help you finish.
âshiiiii- cho hic- im cominggg fuckâ, you say while your release comes crashing over you.
panting and out of breath you try to move your body off his face and suddenly you feel a tight grip fastening over your thighs keeping you in place
ânuh uh iâm not done cleaning you upâ, choso says muffled from being deep into your cunt licking up every last bit of your come.
âhuuu fuckkk cho please sâ too muchâ, you say while throwing your head back on the borderline of being overstimulated.
âmmmh taste so fucking goodâ, he says while ignoring your cries trying to lick up all of your slick.
he swiftly moves your hips down from his face and starts to get up off the floor while picking you up and walking towards the bed.
you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. you donât say much of anything because youâre still out of breath from your climax so you quietly nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck.
choso lays down on the bed with you and wraps a big blanket around your half naked body.
âwait what about you cho, you didnât come and youâre still hard?â you say whipping your head up and making direct eye contact with him.
âdonât worry about me baby itâll go down, this is all i need right nowâ. he says while holding you closer and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.
a/n: CHILE that writers block almost took me out!! soz if this is lowk buns i had to get it off my chest and finish it so i can work on my other ficsđ«°đŸ (i swear i donât only write stoner fics it was just my hyper fixation at the time đ«Ą)
The faint smell of cherry and weed lingers in your kitchen, mingling with the sharp tang of hair dye. Pink this timeâbright, unapologetic, and a little rebellious. Your little sister bounces on her heels, the green from last time faded into nothing but a memory.
âDo it now, Sissy! Make it good,â she demands, hands on her hips, eyes gleaming with mischief.
You grin, unbothered. âRelax, baby. Youâre about to have hair that slays and matches mine again.â
She squeals, tossing a handful of black-and-pink streaks toward you like confetti. You kneel down, careful, precise, the tattooed skin of your arms catching the morning light as you work the dye through her hair. Glitter dust clings stubbornly to your collarbones and chest, a lingering reminder of the night before.
Wednesday stands stiffly behind her brother, arms crossed, scowling but when your sister tugs her forward, whispering, âJust a little! I wanna match!â, Wednesday relents with the smallest nod. Only a few strands for herâtiny pink streaksâbut the effect is immediate: the corners of her mouth twitch upward, a rare smile.
You brush a wayward pink strand behind your own ear, smirking. âSee? Team chaos, bonded by color.â
A quick hit from your joint calms the edge of your nervesâyouâre a little buzzed, like always, because school events are hellish, and you refuse to be vanilla for the PTA. Youâre dressed to kill anyway: a deep-plunging button-up wrap over your chest, pencil skirt clinging in all the right places, heels that make your legs look endless, gold jewelry catching the light, tattoos flowing across exposed skin. Even here, even now, you are chaos incarnate.
Your sister twirls, delighted with her hair. âNow letâs go! Playâs in thirty!â
Your little sister grabs the last of the cupcakes from the counter, carefully stacking them in their container. Black frosting swirled with pink sugar, the perfect complement to the streaks you just put in her hair. She spins, excitement practically vibrating from every limb.
âOkay, Sissy! Iâm gonna hand these out before the play!â she squeals. âJust a few to the parents, then the rest on the snack table!â
You give her a small nod, taking a slow drag from your joint one last time. Glitter clings stubbornly to your collarbones, chest, and shoulders, the pink streaks in your locs catching the morning sun. Pencil skirt, heels, plunging wrap over your chestâeverything screams polished chaos. You glance at Wednesday and Pugsley, already buzzing with nerves, and a rush of warmth hits your chest. Youâve adopted them in a way even Morticia and Gomez would admire.
The drive to the school is a mix of black coffee, laughter, and your subtle buzz. Your sister cradles the cupcakes, balancing them carefully as she counts them off. Wednesday sits stiffly, glaring slightly, but the tiny pink streaks in her hair betray her secret approval. Pugsley babbles excitedly, bouncing in his seat, while you hum quietly to yourself, content.
Pulling up, your gaze catches Gomez and Morticia before anyone else. Gomez is sharp in a black suit with subtle red highlights and a cute vest peeking out; Morticia glides beside him, black dress flowing, red brooch catching the sun in perfect synchrony. They seem casual, almost poised, but you know themâthe quiet anticipation radiates.
Your sister bounds out first, cupcakes in hand, passing a few to the lingering parents with a bright, sincere grin.
âTry one! Theyâre good,â she chirps.
A mother murmurs, voice clipped but curious:
âWell⊠I suppose she's ⊠responsible. And the cupcakes are⊠really good.â
Another scoffs, muttering, âI guess she tries hard⊠too hard maybe.â
Your sister doesnât care. She beams and sets the remaining cupcakes on the snack table, then hurries backstage to join the kids.
You crouch near the stage, brushing a stray strand from Wednesdayâs face. âRemember, this is your moment. Donât let anyone elseâs noise shake you,â you whisper, hand lingering gently on Pugsleyâs shoulder. Every word, every touch, radiates that quiet, confident nurturing that makes the kids light up.
And then they see you.
Gomez freezes, jaw tightening slightly, pupils dilating. Morticiaâs eyes narrow, dark approval flickering across her face. Your outfit commands attention, but itâs your energy with the kids that ignites them. You treat Wednesday and Pugsley like your own, guiding, praising, encouraging⊠and that, more than anything, makes them hunger.
Gomez rests a hand lightly on his thigh, subtle at first, grounding himself. Morticia notices, her fingers brushing against his arm, a gentle reminder: âPatience, love.â
Other parents whisper.
âDo you see her? Tattoos and allâŠâ
âSheâs⊠goth, obviously. But⊠their kids are happy. Very happy.â
âHmm. Well⊠cupcakes were good. Canât argue with that.â
You brush off side-eyes and murmurs with a small smile, adjusting a stray lock of Wednesdayâs hair. Every small act, every confident word, feeds Gomezâs tension. He shifts, hand tightening subtly against your thigh. Morticia hums softly beside him, leaning closer, lips just brushing his ear: âSoon.â
Your sister and Wednesday move with grace onstage, Pugsley beaming. Your little pep talk before the performance has clearly worked. Gomezâs subtle bulge, already noticeable, is growing. By the final act, the pressure is undeniable; his hand grips your thigh with just enough force to remind himself of what he wants. Morticia notices, smirking darkly, letting her hand rest lightly on his other arm, leaning in close to whisper teasingly: âCanât hide it any longer, can you?â
You notice the subtle change in him, the tension coiling fully, a bulge pressing through the suit. You glance at Morticia, who smirks knowingly, and back at Gomez, whose jaw is tight, his focus torn between the stage and the way he wants you pressed against him.
By the end of the play, he is at full mast, fingers still gripping your thigh, every inch of him aching. Morticiaâs calm, teasing presence beside him, hand on his arm, only heightens the torment. You straighten subtly, noticing how impossible he looks, and a quiet smirk tugs at your lips.
The final curtain falls, applause booming in the auditorium, kids grinning, flushed with success. You turn toward the stage exit to gather your little chaos crewâbut before anyone can even reach you, a handâa firm, hot handâgrabs yours.
Gomez. Tight, urgent, practically dragging you toward the first private space he sees. His eyes are dark, predatory, desperate. Morticia glides behind, perfectly composed, heels clicking softly, eyes alight with that wicked approval.
âYou⊠youâve been⊠driving me mad,â Gomez murmurs, voice low, almost breathless, as he steers you down a quiet hallway, away from the lingering parents and curious children.
Morticiaâs voice follows, soft but sharp, teasing in that way only she can: âWatching you with them⊠my love, it was⊠intoxicating. The way she guides them, nurtures them⊠it makes me ache in ways I didnât expect.â
You glance at her, and her dark, approving smirk sends a shiver down your spine. Gomez presses closer, hands tightening on your wrist and waist, pulling you flush against him.
The door to the small private room clicks shut behind you. Gomez buries his face in your neck instantly, inhaling, murmuring praisesâyour name, your scent, the faint glitter that still clings to your skin, the way your body radiates warmth and authority. One hand grips your waist like itâs the only thing keeping him tethered, chest pressed hard to yours, subtle grinding against you already betraying his desperation.
Morticia steps behind him, hand lightly resting against his back, leaning close enough that her warmth brushes yours. Gomez grips her hand instinctively, anchoring himself as he waits, trembling with restraint, for her signal.
âI⊠I canâtâŠâ he groans, voice raw, broken, fumbling, âI canât even⊠kiss you yetâŠâ His lips hover against your neck, grazing, barely moving, one hand buried in your waist, the other clutching Morticiaâs hand like itâs a lifeline.
Morticia murmurs softly, teasing and commanding all at once: âSoon, mi amor. Wait for me. Control yourself, and you may have her entirely.â
Gomez groans again, grinding slightly, helpless, hips pressing into you, chest to chest, each inhale shallow. His desperation is tangibleâyou can feel it through every press of his body, every subtle tremble of his hands. Heâs been thinking of thisâthinking of youânonstop for the past two weeks. Since dropping off your little sister at the Addams house, since he and Morticia have been holding back, craving, remembering every touch, every curve, every glittering inch of you.
Morticia leans closer, her hand trailing along his side, murmuring low against his ear: âYou want her, yes⊠but remember why we wait. Imagine her⊠with our children. Imagine making this⊠permanent. Imagine her⊠part of us.â
Gomez shudders violently, hips pressing harder into you, grinding just enough that you feel the desperate tension pressing through his trousers. Heâs trembling, near snapping, but Morticiaâs presence, calm and teasing, keeps him on the knifeâs edge.
You feel him shiver in your arms, hear the guttural, stifled whines that escape him as his desperation builds, every muscle taut. His chest presses fully to yours, hands gripping tight, eyes closed, head buried in your neck as he murmurs praisesâhow beautiful you are, how perfect, how heâs waited two weeks to feel you like this again.
Morticia steps closer behind him, pressing lightly, her own desire for you mirrored in her voice: âSeeing her⊠care for our children⊠it makes me want her too. The way she nurtures them⊠the way she has them wrapped around her little finger⊠sheâs ours. And weâll make it so.â
Gomez bites back a groan, trembling, grinding slightly, lost between Morticiaâs guidance and his own primal need for you. One hand holds you, the other Morticia, and he rocks subtly, desperately, waiting, wishing, nearly breaking as he murmurs your name against your skin over and over.
The tension is unbearable, electric. You can feel itâthe anticipation, the need, the shared desire of both your lovers, both entirely consumed by you. Gomez is right there, trembling, hips pressing, chest heavingâone more second, one word, one command from Morticia, and he would lose every ounce of restraint. You can feel it, smell it, taste the desperation in the air between the three of you, a slow, simmering storm that promises utter chaosâand pleasureâsoon.
---
Gomez shudders violently, grinding harder, nearly losing himself. He can feel himself on the edge, hips pressing, chest heaving, every desperate whine barely contained. His eyes are dark, intense, almost feral, waiting for the silent permission he craves from Morticia to let go, to lose himself entirely against you.
Your voice is soft, coaxing, unaware of the madness youâve stirred: âLet me gather our kids, and Iâll meet you outside⊠we can go home after.â
The words hit like fire. Our kids⊠homeâŠ
Gomez freezes mid-grind. His head snaps up, jaw tight, pupils dilating. Morticiaâs eyes snap toward you, smirk gone for the briefest heartbeat, a low groan escaping her throat.
âNo,â Gomez breathes, almost growling, hips jerking in restraint. His hand tightens around your waist, the other still clenching Morticiaâs, one leg subtly pressing against yours. âWe⊠we need to go home. Now.â
Morticia murmurs low, sultry and commanding, against his ear: âYes⊠weâll collect them⊠quickly⊠mi amor. But she will be ours.â
Gomez physically pulls back, carefullyâoh so carefullyâfrom you, chest still heaving, one hand dragging along your back, one still holding Morticiaâs. His erection is straining, bulge impossibly obvious now, every inch of him screaming in frustration. He swallows hard, muttering to himself, forcing control into every fiber of his being.
âWe need⊠to⊠get them,â he groans, voice rough, a shuddering exhale escaping as he jerks you gently toward the door. âGo⊠go with me. We⊠we need to⊠move.â
You glance up, innocent smile still there, unaware of just how close he was to losing all restraint. âOkay⊠Iâll gather the kidsâŠâ
Gomez nearly snaps again, another guttural groan ripping from him, teeth pressed to keep from shoving you into the wall right then and there. Morticia huffs, eyes narrowing, fingers curling against his side. âYes⊠we must⊠get them⊠quickly, mi amor,â she murmurs, voice thick with desire and amusement.
With a collective groan, the two of them practically drag you down the hallway, urgency radiating, one hand gripping each other, moving faster to corral the children before restraint fractures completely. Every step is a struggleâthe friction, the pent-up lust, the thought of finally being home with youâand yet, they manage to gather the kids, hurry out, and almost stumble into the car with barely a pause.
Gomez is still trembling, hips subtly grinding against the air, chest heaving, muttering low curses and praises, every nerve screaming in anticipation of the moment theyâll finally be home and able to claim you entirely, Morticia perfectly at his side, equally desperate, equally gleaming with anticipation.
The world outside is chaos, but inside the car, every muscle tensed, every pulse racing, itâs clear: as soon as those doors close at the mansion, nothing will stop them from losing themselves to you again.
---
You lean into the driverâs side window of Gomez and Morticiaâs car, the late-afternoon sun catching the glitter still on your shoulders, collarbones, chest. Your pencil skirt hugs every curve, your wrap plunging just enough that Gomezâs eyes darken immediately, and Morticiaâs smirk widens with wicked amusement.
âThe kids are restless,â you murmur, voice low, teasing. âIâll see you when weâre all home.â
You press a quick kiss to Gomezâs cheek first, leaning over him just enough that he can see everything, your glitter catching the light, your chest hovering just above him. Then you reach over, tilting slightly to press a soft, deliberate kiss to Morticiaâs cheek. His hand tightens on the wheel before he can stop himself, the subtle friction of your body against him enough to make him shiver and groan quietly.
Morticia hums low, fingers brushing his arm as she watches you, eyes dark, filled with approval and lust. âPerfect,â she murmurs, almost to herself.
You pull back, winking at them, and begin walking toward your car. The kids are already buzzing, excited, and you guide them in, buckling each safely into their seats.
From inside Gomezâs car, heâs breathing hard, teeth pressed together, jaw tight, one hand gripping the wheel, knuckles white. Morticia sits perfectly poised beside him, but her eyes betray her calmâthe hunger, the need, the way seeing you like that makes her ache is obvious.
Gomez let's out a subtle groan, just a whine really, almost imperceptible over the engine. He adjusts himself slightly, desperate for friction, for something, but thereâs nothing. Not yet. Morticiaâs hand rests lightly against his thigh, a grounding touch, but the need radiates between them like a live wire.
You climb into your car, engine rumbling to life, kids safely strapped in. The drive begins, playful chatter from the backseat filling the car, completely oblivious to the storm youâve just left behind.
Behind you, Gomez speeds along in their car, red highlights catching the sunlight, trying to keep control of both himself and the vehicle. One hand adjusts his bulge subtly, chest heaving, whispers of your name spilling from his lips. Morticia hums low beside him, fingers tracing his arm, guiding, teasing, keeping him tethered just enough.
By the time you arrive at your home, Gomez is trembling in his seat, hips rocking ever so slightly, whispering your name, his breath shaky and thick. Morticia watches him, amused and desperate herself, leaning close to whisper teasingly: âSoon, mi amor⊠all will be ours again.â
You park, guiding the kids out and inside. Gomez and Morticia wait a few minutes in the driveway, letting you settle everyone, letting the kids get deep into the house so they wonât witness whatâs coming. Then, in perfect synch, they step out of their car, dark coats catching the late sunlight, and make a beeline for your door.
Gomezâs hand on the door handle, chest still heaving, barely able to look at you without grinding against the air in frustration. Morticia follows, eyes dark with hunger and amusement. You glance up at them, smile faintly, and feel the familiar storm brewing againâthe moment when restraint teeters on the edge of breaking completely.
The kids are already upstairs, disappearing into the playroom, laughter echoing faintly through the hall. You step inside the mansion, and the air itself feels charged, alive. Gomezâs hands find your waist immediately, pulling you flush against him, body pressed chest to chest. His breath is hot against your neck, whispering your name with the kind of desperation heâs been holding in since the drive.
âWe should have knownâŠâ he murmurs, lips brushing your ear, teasing, breath catching in low groans. âSeeing you with the kids⊠it would affect us. It⊠it destroys me, mi amor.â
Morticia glides beside him, hand trailing lightly over your arm, smile wicked. âYouâve made them ours, havenât you? Our children, and our hearts. And now⊠so are you.â
Gomez groans, nipping at your shoulder, grinding subtly, one hand sliding along your hip, the other clutching Morticiaâs. âWeâre going to⊠make this permanent. You, the kids⊠your sister⊠part of this⊠part of us. Every inch, every heartbeat. Ours, cara mia. All of it.â
Every word, every murmur, sends shivers through you, and you press closer, hand brushing against his chest, feeling the sharp strain of his erection pressing insistently.
They guide you down the hall, Gomez pressing a little harder at every turn, unable to keep from grazing your body, murmuring praises against your neck. Morticiaâs fingers trail along your arms, teasing, her presence hot, her dark amusement filling the air as she whispers: âWeâve wanted this for weeks. And now⊠finally, youâre here. Finally⊠ours.â
Gomez reaches the bedroom door first, almost fumbling with the handle as his desperation peaks. He steps in, pulling you forward, pressing you against the wall before the door closes, one hand gripping your waist, the other dragging Morticia along behind him.
The moment the door clicks behind them, Gomez loses all pretense. He buries his face in your neck, teeth grazing lightly, hips pressing impossibly hard into yours, grinding slowly, each movement teasing the edge of his control. Morticia follows from behind, hands tracing your sides, lips brushing along your shoulders and collarbone, murmuring low, dark praise.
Clothes fly in a chaotic, slow-motion stormâskirts, wraps, belts, everything discarded in the heat of pent-up lust finally unleashed. Gomezâs hands roam greedily, grinding against you, hips pressing, whispering your name against your neck as if itâs a prayer and a plea.
âThis⊠this is everything Iâve wanted,â Gomez groans, voice rough, nearly breaking as his hands roam, sliding up your back, gripping, tugging you flush against him. âEvery⊠every day⊠thinking of you⊠imagining this⊠I canâtâŠâ
Morticia hums softly, a wicked, dark purr against your ear. âWeâve dreamed of you, cara mia. Every whispered promise⊠every cruel thought of leaving you⊠gone now. You are ours. Completely. And we will show you just how⊠desired you are.â
The three of you collapse together onto the bed, chest to chest, arms and lips tangled, fingers grasping, teeth grazing, murmurs, groans, and whispered promises filling the room. Gomez presses your body fully into his, grinding, whining lowly, unable to contain the need. Morticia teases, guides, and holds him back just enough to make him desperate, every inch of her presence stoking the fire between you.
Every movement, every touch, every whisper cements it: you, the kids, the chaos, the glitter, the pink streaks, the adopted familyâall of itâis theirs. And tonight, at long last, they will claim it fully.
Gomez shifts, pressing you harder into the mattress, grinding slowly, unable to hold back the whines escaping him, one hand gripping your waist, the other clutching Morticiaâs as if she alone can anchor him. His lips find yours again, teeth nipping, murmurs of your name spilling like sacred chants.
Morticia leans down, lips tracing along your jaw, teasing the edge of your ear, trailing a hand along your hip, tugging at your waist just enough to make you arch into her touch. âDo you feel it, mi amor?â she murmurs. âThe way he aches for you⊠the way we both have dreamed of this⊠for you⊠with youâŠâ
You gasp as Gomezâs hands slide along your sides, fingers pressing into every curve, tracing the glitter, the tattoos, the soft skin. He whispers over and over, each breath catching, âYouâre mine⊠ours⊠finally⊠finally hereâŠâ Grinding low, pressing against you, murmuring praises, nipping at your collarbone, chest flush to chest.
Morticia guides him, hands along your curves, teasing and steadying, whispering, âTake your time⊠savor her⊠make up for every moment weâve waited⊠every day weâve been apart⊠every touch weâve imaginedâŠâ
Gomez whines low, grinding impossibly, hips moving with the restraint he can barely hold, pressing his forehead to yours, murmuring, âI canât⊠Iâve waited too long⊠every night⊠every thought⊠just youâŠâ
Morticia kisses your shoulder, sliding down to your chest, lips grazing lightly over skin, teasing, her hands tracing along your body, feeling every inch, guiding, making you arch, making you moan. âWeâll take everything,â she murmurs. âEvery inch⊠every curve⊠every sigh⊠finally, mi amor, finallyâŠâ
Morticia presses close behind him, murmuring encouragements, tracing your curves, teasing Gomez, keeping him on edge, heightening every sensation, every gasp, every moan. She presses her lips along your neck and shoulder, fingers sliding along your waist, occasionally pinching or brushing your nipples through fabric, keeping your attention divided, deliciously confused, entirely consumed.
You arch, moans spilling, fingers clutching sheets as they take what theyâve waited for, every touch, every murmur, every grind of hips, every whispered declaration of possession, every single thing they swore theyâd do when finally with you again⊠all of it happening, slow, sinful, poetic, and absolute.
The room is heat, whispers, grinding, nips, moansâGomez low, desperate, whining, Morticia teasing, praising, touching, all of it pointed entirely at you, worshiping every inch, marking every curve, building you into theirs completely, utterly, as the three of you collapse into chaotic, erotic symphony.
And thenâhe snaps.
A low, guttural groan escapes him as he cums fast, gripping you tight, pressing himself into you, grinding slightly, still whispering your name in delirious praise. His release is hot, shuddering, but it doesnât slow him downâif anything, it fuels him, giving him reason to worship you harder.
Morticia leans in, lips grazing your neck, teasing your earlobe, fingers tracing along your sides and chest. Gomez nips lightly along your shoulder, murmuring praises, pressing kisses across your collarbone, neck, chest. His hands roam freely now, unrestrained, all pent-up tension melting into the way he worships you, tracing your curves, teasing your nipples, pressing your body flush to his.
Morticia guides him, murmuring encouragements, whispering your name, tracing tattoos, brushing glittered skin, every movement designed to heighten the pleasure, stoke the obsession.
âDo you feel it, mi amor?â Morticia whispers against your ear. Her lips trail along your shoulder, then down your collarbone. âThe way he aches for you⊠the way weâve imagined this⊠every day apart⊠itâs all here.â
Gomez groans, one hand sliding up your back, the other pressing your hip to his, grinding harder, whispering praises in your ear. âIâve wanted you⊠every second⊠thought of this⊠all of you⊠oursâŠâ
You tilt your head, pressing back against him, running your hands over both of them, tangling your fingers in Morticiaâs hair, pressing your palms against Gomezâs chest. âYouâre both⊠insatiable,â you murmur, and the words make them shiver.
Morticia smiles darkly, nipping at your earlobe. âAnd you, mi amor, have made us ache⊠watching you with the children, with your sister⊠everything about you⊠it destroys us.â
---
They take turns, alternating attentionâGomez worshiping your chest, neck, thighs, pressing into you low, murmuring, grinding, whining; Morticia teasing your sides, neck, chest, tracing tattoos, kissing, murmuring encouragements. Youâre arched, trembling, moaning, every inch of you worshiped, glittered skin, pink streaks, tattoos, every curve praised, touched, kissed, ground against.
Hours pass in whispered names, low groans, grinding, kisses, teeth grazing, nails tracing, murmurs of obsession, praise, and worship. Gomez whispers deliriously, low, broken phrases: âEvery inch⊠ours⊠finally⊠perfect⊠finallyâŠâ Morticia murmurs against your neck, shoulder, tracing, teasing, guiding, holding him back just enough to make him ache harder.
By the end, youâre trembling, glittered and glowing, exhausted, every curve worshiped, kissed, touched, praised. Gomez presses low against your neck, grinding lightly, murmuring delirious praises, nearly undone again, Morticia pressing close behind, whispering darkly, guiding, teasing, adoring.
Finally, they collapse around you, chest to chest, tangled limbs, glittered skin glistening under the soft moonlight, whispering names, murmurs of âours⊠finally⊠oursâŠâ, hands still tracing, holding, grounding, completely obsessed with you, worshiping every inch of your body, every curve, every tattoo, every streak of pink in your hair, every line of glitter on your skinâthe three of you utterly entwined, owned, and adored.
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You always offer him the bowl or joint, forgetting after a few good hits that your boyfriend cannot smoke. You always pout at the injustice of it, trudging to the back porch to smoke.
He joins you sometimes, watching as your eyes go progressively more hooded and red, and your smile gets a little wider. You always smell like some form of incense, and weed, but it became a wonderfully familiar smell to Kyle.
"Baby, what did you do today?" Kyle asks as he watches you finish rearranging your bookshelf.
"Took care of the chickens and goats, smoked, baked some bread for the neighbors, brought that over with the eggs they wanted. Smoke with the wife, she needed a break from the kids. Oh, and I made two more sales on my shop today!" You rattle off, turning to face him with a happy sigh.
Summary: Viltrumite!Mark hates that you smoke weed. He absolutely despises it.
Warnings: Mentions of smoking weed, Viltrumite mark literally đ readers plug, mention of being held hostage
A/N: Currently becoming obsessed with Viltrumite!Mark
Your friend Mark liked smoking weed with you sometimes, but recently he hasnât had time. He always had to bail before or halfway through.
This Mark in the all white? Hell no.
It started when he kidnapped you during the invincible war because âyouâd make a good mateâ. Not because you were pretty or beautiful or he even loved you. Nope.
He held you hostage in your own home. You knew it wasnât him from how he moved so gracefully and stiff. And his face was 90% of the time nonchalant.
So, it was very off putting from the jump.
You were stressed and he already said he wasnât going to kill you so you just said fuck it and pulled out the bong and your stash of weed.
âWhat are you doing.â The Mark in all white asked you stoically.
You paused as you grabbed your lighter and started to flick it on then you mocked him in a teasing tone, âWhat are you doing.â
âIâm smoking weed what does it look like?â
You took a long first hit, held the smoke so it filled your lungs, burn delightedly and then you exhaled slow.
Mark just stared. He seems confused?
âDo you want to try or something or are you just gonna stare dude?â You sighed slouching into the couch. He simply shook his head no and grimaced.
âThisâŠâweedâ smells abhorrent.â He stated still squinting. âWhy are you doing this?â
You rolled your eyes, âBecause iâm stressed. I have you holding me hostage and a bunch of other Marks are attacking the world.â
He said nothing as you wrapped up, but just stared judgmentally. He stayed away as you just sat in the couch high and watched different things to avoid the news.
Being high though messed up your perception though and him staring at you like that made you just paranoid.
He kept complaining too.
âWhy do you humans do such immature and ridiculous things? Why ruin your own body for someâŠsome intoxicated pleasure?â
âLeave me alone, dude. This is my house.â
âYou need to answer me.â
âLike hell I do.â You could barely focus at this point.
He groaned in disgust.
After that he demanded you stop smoking and you just said okay to shut him up.
Of course you were lying.
A week later you lit up again while he was gone. He had smashed your phone to stop you from calling anyone to help you and threatened you from going outside. Apparently, he was waiting for reinforcements from Viltrum.
Naturally, this caused more stress so naturallyyy it was time to smoke again. You admit it was a bad habit, but what could you say?
Unfortunately for you, you didnât have enough time to air out the place so when Mark came home he was immediately lecturing you.
âI told you to stop that! Youâre ruining your body! Do you imbeciles care at all for your health?â He spat towering over you.
âWell, maybe you should hold some other girl hostage then.â You argued. You hated how he was trying to change you. Even if it was for the better.
He threw away all your junk food, all your frozen foods too. He monitored what you ate now too, and only brought authentic healthy things which tasted gross but he swore it was good.
âYou humans eat too many unhealthy, toxic chemicals and preservatives. Your governments truly hate you all. I mean, this world is just unbalanced and-â
âOh my god, shut the hell up already Mark.â You said biting into a sad wheat bread sandwich with one slice of turkey in it. He then argued at you about cutting him off.
Anyways , he smashes your bong out of rage that night and flushed your weed. You yelled at him and tried to slap him but he just restrained you for an hour. It was the worst high of your life.
After a month, you managed to sneak out anyways and meet your plug somewhere to get more weed. It was just some guy from high school. And luckily for you, you had a laptop to text him on that you snuck onto when Mark was out.
You walked quickly with a hoodie on and some old pj pants and slippers. You kept your head down too. You didnât feel too proud doing this and felt you looked crazy to some but you just needed this.
You met him in a Mcdonaldâs, and left just as fast. You also had a spare pipe to smoke with that you hid in your bra drawer. This Mark didnât like going in there.
But the second you got back home there he was. Arms crossed and all. He looked at you like a disappointed parent.
âWhere were you.â He spat.
âJust taking a walk geez.â You looked to the side and hoped he wasnât as smart as he let on. Sadly, he was.
âYou were buying more of that herb. Right? That you humans enjoy?â
He took a step towards you and you backed into he door.
âNo-â
âYes.â He grabbed your purse. âI did some research. To see why you idiots do it. Weaken your senses and mobility forâŠ.satisfaction. I just donât get it.â
âLet go-â You whined trying to take back the back but it was no use.
That was $100 down the toilet yet again.
He demanded to know who gave it to you and you didnât budge. He didnât stop asking though.
You eventually answered him with just a name. No details on what he looked like or where to meet him. Just a name. And that was enough for Mark oddly enough.
âWhat are you gonna do, huh? Tell him to stop selling weed?â You sighed looking at him annoyed.
âSomething like that.â
You turned away from him to watch the news, âWell good luck finding him.â
Mark said nothing but hummed.
The next time you tried to contact your plug, about a week later, you were left on delivered. And this went on for days. He never leaves you on read.
You were getting worried.
Then it hit you. A few days after confronting you at the door, Mark came home with blood seemingly on him. He refused to tell you where he got it or how but he seemed satisfied that day. You didnât want to think negatively but the dots were connecting.
âHey, so, did you likeâŠdo something to my guy?â You asked one night washing dishes with him.
He shrugged.
âDude.â You said glaring at him.
âWhat? He was harming you. He offers this world no good.â He smiled. âHonestly, I tried to reason with him at first, but he simply had to be terminated in the end.â
âTerminated.â You repeated, heart dropping.
âYes.â
âYou killed him.â
âThatâs what i said didnât i?â He sighed like it was just so obvious.
You felt sick to your stomach. He was a genuine sweet guy trying to make ends meet. He wasnât even one of those violent plugs either. You didnât even want to imagine what he went through.
âSoâŠâŠyou killed him because he sold me weed.â You said slowly. âYou must really hate weed.â
Of course, without outside connections you couldnât smoke anymore but you made a mental note that if you ever got your hands on more to not tell Mark.
It was past two am when Price arrived home, you were already lit up. The sound of the front door unlocking barely registered, but the heavy thud of boots on hardwood made you jolt upright like youâd been caught red-handed. Your heart leapt, panic hitting you before recognition set in.
âBloody hellâŠâ The voice was unmistakable, gravelly and worn thin from travel.
âJohn?â you blurted, squinting at the figure stepping into the lamplight.
Captain Price stood in the doorway, still in half his gear, duffel slung over one shoulder, looking more like a ghost than a man. His face was carved with exhaustion, the lines deeper than you remembered, but his eyes sharpened when they landed on you. He stopped dead, gaze flicking between you, the smoke, the ashtray, the mess of blankets tossed across the couch.
You felt your stomach drop. âUhâhi.â
His jaw clenched, shoulders tense. âYouâre high as a bloody kite.â
You swallowed. âMaybe.â Then, without meaning to, you giggled. âYouâre taller than usual. Like⊠tree-tall. Did they make you taller on this mission?â
For a moment, his expression was thunderous. You knew that look: the one he wore when recruits pushed too far, when mistakes turned dangerous. But then he sighed, setting his bag down with a heavy thump and dragging a hand over his face.
âChrist, love,â he muttered, moving closer. âIâm out dodginâ bullets and youâre sittinâ here cookinâ your brain at three in the morning?â
Your face crumpled a little. âWork sucked. People sucked. I justââ Your voice cracked. âI didnât want to feel anything tonight.â
That softened him, just a fraction. His boots stopped in front of you, and suddenly he was crouching, eye-level, hat shadowing his tired eyes. âYou donât have to numb yourself like this. Not for me, not for anyone. You hear me?â
You nodded⊠then ruined the serious moment by poking his beard with one finger. âItâs so scratchy. Like a hedgehog that pays taxes.â
Price blinked. Then, despite himself, his lips twitched. âA hedgehog⊠that pays taxes?â
âYes.â You leaned closer, wide-eyed. âThatâs you.âHe huffed out a laugh, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. âBloody hell, youâre gone.â
âIâm not gone,â you insisted, words slurring just enough to prove yourself wrong. âIâm⊠adventuring. In my brain.â You pointed at your temple, deadly serious. âYou should try it sometime. Very scenic.â
Price shook his head, but the anger had melted from his features, replaced by something warmer. He reached up, brushing your hair back with a gentle hand. âYouâre ridiculous.â
âYou love it,â you shot back instantly, grin crooked.
That earned a proper laugh. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. âYeah. I bloody do.â You melted into him, all silliness replaced by the sudden wave of relief at having him home, solid and safe. His hand settled on the back of your neck, grounding you as your high-addled brain started to spin again.
âI missed you,â you mumbled, words tumbling out without filter. âLike, so much it made my stomach hurt. And then I thought about you dying, and then I ate three bowls of cereal, and then I cried in the shower, and then I smoked, and then I ate more cerealââ
âAlright, alright,â he cut you off gently, though his lips twitched in amusement. âYouâre ramblinâ, sweetheart.â You buried your face in his shoulder. âYou smell like gunpowder and airport coffee.â
âAnd you smell like weed and Frosted Flakes.â He chuckled, low and fond, pulling you against his chest.
âWeâre a right pair, arenât we?â The tension that had been crackling between you dissolved, leaving only warmth. His arms wrapped around you, steady as stone, and even in your hazy, messy state, you knew you were safe âYouâre not mad?â you asked, small and hesitant.âNah,â he said softly, kissing the top of your head. âNot mad. Just⊠worried. Always worried.â You tightened your hold on him. âDonât worry. Iâll be fine. Iâve got you.â
And for the first time all week, as you sat tangled together on the couch, smoke and fatigue settling around you both, you actually believed it.
A/N: let me know if I should add to this, make a side story add in the 141 or whatever! Also please send requests for this I wanna make it a series and I love if yall have any ideas to give me about prices wife being a stoner!