Tumgik
#by stoners for stoners
smollkittykat · 4 months
Text
Cas laughs, soft and gentle as he rolls the spliff calmly. His gaze shifts from his hands to Dean in tandem, trying to show the Winchester that he was still paying attention.
At first Dean wasn't a big fan of Cas' newer habit. The smell reminded him of high school bleachers and the outside of clubs it's insides he has last seen 20 years ago.
Also he felt protective of Cas, a different 2014 where Cas would slowly fade away to addiction echoing uncomfortably in Dean's mind, The first few weeks he saw Cas rolling or smoking.
But he's deconstructing that train of thought, slowly but steadily.
Because Dean had been a raging alcoholic for most of his life and Cas was an ancient being who could make his own decisions.
Also, Cas says it helps. Helps with the pain in his wings caused by his tattered wings, with the quiet of angel radio and with tickling this soft laugh out of Castiel's throat when he tells hunting stories.
33 notes · View notes
ditzybat · 5 months
Text
tim: sweet dog you got there. gordon: yes, this is our new drug-sniffing dog. tim: still training huh? gordon: red robin.. what do you mean? tim: ... tim: nevermind...
12K notes · View notes
kiatoru-archived · 10 months
Text
"fuuuuck," choso groans, long and drawn out. he tosses his head back, a plume of smoke escaping his lips, his joint hanging limping from his fingers. he uses his free hand to grip and knead at the fat of your hip before raising his palm and bringing it down hard on your ass.
you let out a high pitched squeal and clench around him.
"cho," you whine, pretty tears collecting on your lash line.
"come on baby," he whispers, taking another drag from his joint and gently blowing it at you, "ride me harder, make yourself cum on my cock, gorgeous."
your lungs burn as you inhale the excess smoke and you gyrate your hips faster. choso moans loudly and bucks his hips up into you, making your clit grind against his happy trail. fat tears pour down your plump cheeks.
"s' deep, s' deep!" you moan and squirm above him as his tip nudges against your sweet spot.
"fuck," he growls, dropping his joint off the edge of the couch in favor of gripping your hips, "stop runnin' from my dick baby, gotta fill you up."
you choke and sob, trembling above him and clinging to his shoulders, whining and moaning over how good it feels.
"take it all baby," he mumbles, lips pressed against your ear, "m' not stoppin' till i cum s' deep in this pussy that she never forgets me."
11K notes · View notes
stonerparty · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
punkitt-is-here · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
me and my bf were talking about fluttershy probably being terrible at smoking weed and that evolved into the idea of pinkie pie giving her the worst high in her life
53K notes · View notes
halfbakedfairy · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
25K notes · View notes
Text
Dinner & Diatribes
❝i knew it from the first look of mischief in your eye.❞
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: You both swiped right and suddenly you're standing in a stranger's kitchen while he makes you spaghetti.
Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader
Word Count: 5.2k
Author’s Note: this might be the most self-indulgent fic i've ever written, so fair warning. also, thank you tom, who inspired this by saying that dinner & diatribes would be aegon's hozier song. it's just true. anyways, this was really fun to write.
Warnings: language, recreational drug use, alcohol use, fluff, intense sexual situations (including: oral sex - female receiving, sexual intercourse - p in v), just two single people who are horny, more fluff, aegon being so cute that i couldn't stop smiling the whole time i was writing this.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It was precisely 9:39 PM on a Tuesday.
You were sitting cross-legged on your couch, nose deep in a fresh murder mystery that you had been working through for the last two days. There was a lit joint between your fingers that you were nursing, taking little hits so that it wouldn’t completely burn out, and on the cushion next to you, your phone softly vibrates and lights up; a familiar icon flashes across the screen and you can easily make out the words, “It’s a Match” from the corner of your eye. 
It’d been a regular occurrence since you had downloaded that accursed app. 
You’d been single for far too long, according to your best friend, though you hadn’t really noticed. The sweet silence of a solitary life was something that you had enjoyed for the most part. It wasn’t even like your online dating life had really taken off, either. You’d get matches but hardly anyone would reach out in any way that made you feel like they were serious. They wanted your Snapchat username, or they were in an ‘open’ relationship or asking for a threesome, and one guy even asked if you would send him pictures of your feet. Even some of the ones you thought were serious about taking you out- or even just hooking up- would end up ghosting you before anything actually happened. 
“It’s not supposed to be serious,” you could hear your friend’s words rattling around in your brain. You shake your head and focus once again on your book; they have a suspect, it’s the best friend! How fitting.
Once again, your phone lights up and vibrates. Not wanting to be distracted from the plot, you ignore your new match and get back to your mystery with anticipation; the best friend is about to confess. You go to take another hit of your joint and frown upon realizing it’s burnt out. As you move to grab your lighter, in comes another message, and another, and another. You stop what you’re doing and pick up your phone, swiping at the screen until you find the culprit. He’s known only as Aegon T, and according to the one sentence he has written on his profile, he has a dog. You swipe through his pictures- the dog is a golden retriever, the man looks like a golden retriever. 
In the message thread, he’s basically talking to himself. 
There’s four new messages waiting for you, while three little dots begin flashing at the bottom of the screen; disappearing and reappearing as you read what he’s already sent. 
“So, I’m high.”
“And I am making spaghetti… and it’s really good.”
“At least I hope it’s really good, it could just be the weed…”
“I could use a taste-tester, if you’re up for it? I can’t pay you or anything, but it’s honest work 😏”
Aegon begins typing again and you watch the screen, a smirk on your lips. You are 99% sure that the spaghetti is truly an innuendo for what he really wants and have half a heart to just block him, but you watch as those little gray dots continue in the bottom left corner of the screen; he’s going back and forth with himself and you can’t help but find it oddly cute. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you contemplate a witty response, but before you can even begin typing, he sends a fifth message. 
“That was weird as fuck, right?”
Then a sixth.
“You probably don’t want to come over to some random guy’s house on a Tuesday.”
He finishes up with a seventh message.
“Unless you do…”
He almost sends an apology. After all, what's another message? He’s already fucked this whole thing up; not even giving himself a chance before he nose-dived. If he was being honest, he should just go ahead and delete his whole account; save you from secondhand embarrassment and save himself from repeating the same mistake again in the future. He sets the phone down on the kitchen counter and goes back to ripping bong hits to calm his nerves. Though, he’s unable to keep himself from checking his phone for a response; a response that likely wasn’t going to come and he’d spend the rest of his night feeling like a complete idiot. 
Seven back-to-back messages should have screamed ‘red flag’, but you’re glancing at the clock as if you were seriously contemplating taking this stranger up on his offer. After all, you do have needs just as much as the next person. But, you’re wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts, your hair’s a mess, and you were covered in the crumbs of your munchie snacks. Meaning, you were nowhere close to being prepared for what was sure to happen between you and this random stoner offering you dinner. 
Yet, you respond to him, “I could never turn down spaghetti”. 
Aegon’s stirring the sauce when he gets your message. He’s instantly elated, thrusting a celebratory fist into the air. His fingers fly across the keyboard swiftly, sending another quick message, “Atta girl 🙃 My place is on the corner of 9th and 51st, above Jasper’s.”
“Be there soon,” you reply with haste. 
It was apartment #4 and you made sure to text your friend the address, and given name of your potential murderer, and also share your location for her to keep an eye out.  She says all you have to do is text her at any time if you need her to call and bail you out with a fake emergency. All she asks in return is for you to have fun and let her know if you are planning on spending the night- which was an idea that you weren’t opposed to, but it wasn’t something you were planning on. 
You’re nervous as you stand outside of the door to his apartment, fist hovering for a moment. Now’s the time to make a fast exit- you haven’t met him, you could turn around right now and never meet him. You could wake up alive in the morning, safe in your own bed. Or, you can knock on the door and have what might be a really nice spaghetti dinner with a really nice guy. Hell, he could even be the love of your life and in fifty years you’ll both look back on this day and laugh about how you met on Tinder and how you were stupid enough to go to his house and not a public place. 
Finally, you knock. 
Aegon puts the lid back on his spaghetti sauce and shuffles into the living room. Sunfyre is on the couch with his ears perked; his tail’s wagging and he’s panting eagerly, waiting patiently to meet this new visitor. Aegon whispers over to him, “wish me luck,” and thinks to himself, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish. He peers through the peephole when he approaches the door and there you are, a sigh of relief deflates his chest. 
“Oh, thank God,” you can hear him say as the door swings open. His accent is surprisingly British. “You’re real.”
The very first thing that you notice are his eyes. They’re piercing; somehow blue and lavender at the same time– the color of a warm, summer sunrise and they’re crinkling at the edges as he smiles. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray sweats and a pale green hoodie, and the only word that comes to mind when you look at him is warmth. He’s somehow more attractive in person than he is in the pictures on his profile, which you didn’t think was possible, but he’s standing right in front of you and you can’t help but think to yourself, he doesn’t look like a murderer. 
Then again, neither did Ted Bundy.  
Aegon stands there for a moment, just staring at you, unable to do anything else. His words escape him, he can barely even breathe. You look exactly the same as your pictures; even without the makeup and even in the shitty, fluorescent overhead lights of the hallway. Even in a sweatshirt and pajama shorts, you’re stunning. He’s having a hard time believing that you actually showed up and he doesn’t realize that he’s been staring for much too long until you shrug back at him. 
“Did you think I wasn’t?” You ask with creased brows and a lopsided smile.
The corners of his lips pull upwards as he looks at you, “I don’t know. You’re just so beautiful, I’m still not entirely convinced you aren’t some sort of hologram… or a robot.” 
“Wow, you’re pretty smooth,” you say with a playful smirk, desperately trying to keep your composure— trying to play it cool, hoping that he hasn’t caught on to the fact that you’re secretly spiraling, because it took all of one smile and one compliment and you were done for. “But, I’ll have you know that flattery won’t work on me. I’m here for the spaghetti and the spaghetti alone.” 
“My apologies,” Aegon says with a chuckle as he holds his hands up defensively. “Right this way, then.” 
He steps to the side, allowing you to enter his apartment, and shuts the door behind you. It’s nice, clean, smells like fresh baked bread and tomato sauce. There’s niche artwork adorning the walls, he’s got candles burning, and there’s some lowkey, downtempo R&B playing softly in the background. He quickly moves past you and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to follow him. 
However, before you can take all of two steps into his apartment, a flash of golden fur is suddenly at your hip, pawing for attention. You drop down to a knee and happily accept any and all kisses from the pup. “Oh! Hi, what’s your name?”
Aegon sticks his head around the corner and says, “That is Sunfyre. In case you were wonderin’, he’s a very good judge of character and I will be consultin’ with him later where you’re concerned, fair warning.” 
You roll your eyes and scratch behind Sunfyre’s ears, his tail thumps in approval. 
“Would you like something to drink?” He continues and disappears back into the kitchen. “I’ve got wine and bottled water. Oh, and milk?” There’s a rustling in the kitchen before Aegon adds with a nervous chuckle, “scratch that, there is no milk.” 
You politely excuse yourself from Sunfyre and step into the small dining room off of the kitchen. 
There’s a grin on your lips, which you pursed so that he doesn’t think you’re laughing at him. Sunfyre joins the two of you and circles around his owner’s legs as Aegon empties an almost full half-gallon of milk down the drain. His kitchen is small but looks to be well used, which you appreciate. You know almost nothing about this man, other than his name- if ‘Aegon’ was even his real name- and the name of his dog, and yet here you were, standing in the threshold of his kitchen with a strange sense of comfortability as if you had been lifelong pals. 
“Water is fine,” you tell him. 
He produces a bottle of water from his fridge and tosses it over to you with ease and goes back to the stove. You step further into the kitchen, taking in your surroundings. The kitchen, like the living room, is covered in artwork and vintage decor- things you’d only find in some obscure thrift store or estate sale. On the refrigerator are a collection of magnets from different cities and countries, real touristy type shit. Some of them even had names on them; Alexander, Aaron, Alistair, Alan, Adolf. 
Maybe these are the names of people he’s killed. 
“You travel a lot?” You ask, trying to keep the conversation going.
“I try to,” he says from over his shoulder as he continues to stir the sauce. You can hear him set the lid back on the pot. “Most of those are from my sister, Helaena. She thinks it’s hilarious to give me magnets with random ‘A’ names since you’ll never find the name Aegon on any of those,” he says from behind you. He’s leaning against the counter with a half glass of wine. You quirk an eyebrow at him, not fully convinced. “She has a few from me that say Helen.”
“Is that her?” You ask, finger pointing to a pretty blonde in one of the many photographs he had pinned up.
He nods and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close that you can feel his warmth, smell his aftershave. The proximity causes you to blush and he smirks in response, leaning over your shoulder as he points to the other people in the pictures. “Those two are my little brothers, Aemond and Daeron,” he claims and then points to two women. “That’s my half-sister, Rhae, and next to her is my mother.”
“The redhead?” You ask surprised, given she didn’t look like she could be old enough to have four grown children. He nods and takes a step back, leaning against the counter with half-lidded eyes and a tipsy blush. “She looks like she could be your sister,” you say softly, turning back to glance at all of the faces; he seemed proud of his family, like they were very close. 
You turn away from the fridge and lean against the counter at his side. It’s quiet for a moment, save for the music and the sound of boiling water where the noodles were cooking. You look at him and the corners of your lips can’t help but twist up into a shy smile, but you bite at the inside of your cheek out of nervous habit. He props himself up on his elbows, taking a sip of his wine, clearly comfortable with the silence. 
“So,” you look up at him and his little smirk grows. “About the job…”
“Ah, yes,” he nods. “As I stated earlier, I won’t be able to pay you a monetary wage, but the position does come with a benefits package.”
“And what exactly would this benefits package include?” There’s an innocent flirtatiousness in your voice that only adds to the tension. 
“Outside of the free gourmet meals that I would be providin’ to ya, which is obviously the most important part,” he smiles and steps to the side to grab a spoon from the drawer and holds it out to you. Your fingers softly close around his as you pluck the utensil from his grasp. He clears his throat to distract from the fact that he was visibly flustered from the slight touch. “There’s also unlimited cuddle sessions,” before he can finish, you shoot him a look. “With Sunfyre, of course! He’s the real boss ‘round here, after all.” 
“Cuddling with the boss?” You quirk an eyebrow and look down at the golden retriever, his eyes round and gleaming; clearly waiting for a hand-out. “Sounds like a conflict of interest to me.”
“Well, if it’s a conflict of interest you’re worried about,” he counters quickly with a soft yet playful tone. “I s’pose we could renegotiate the terms of the agreement and you could have me instead.” 
“I’m listening.”
“He might be better at cuddling for obvious reasons and he might be better lookin’,” Aegon continues. “But, I give better backrubs. I mean, I have thumbs and he don’t. You can’t give decent backrubs without thumbs, can you? Plus, he’s a sloppy kisser.” 
“Oh, you’re really trying to sweeten the deal now, huh? Backrubs and kisses? I must admit, that is quite a compelling offer,” you muse. “It seems my decision hinders on whether or not you can actually cook, wouldn’t want to accept the position blindly, now would I?”
“Are ya doubtin’ my skills?” He asked playfully. 
“No offense, but you possess the aura of someone who could fuck up a can of Spaghettios,” you tell him with a sincere smile. “So, forgive me if I don't get my hopes up.”
Aegon laughs and it’s a warm and infectious sound that fills the kitchen. It’s genuine, as is his perfect smile. You can’t seem to keep yourself from staring; eyes softly tracing every detail of his face– from his full, pink pout, to the scar above his right eyebrow, and the dimple of his chin– thinking to yourself that you’ve never seen a man more beautiful. His smile turns back into a smirk as he notices you staring at his lips and you look up to meet his eyes. There’s something about the way he looks at you that leaves you feeling vulnerable. His gaze softens as you look away, turning your attention back to the spaghetti sauce on the stove in front of you to distract yourself from the blush creeping up your neck.
There’s only one way this night ends.
It was obvious before you even left your house and it was certainly obvious now. 
“Go on, then,” he prods, motioning to the pot on the stovetop.
His eyes are wide with anticipation as you dip into the simmering sauce, stirring it a few times before bringing the spoon to your lips. He’s nervous; it’s his mother’s recipe– one he’s spent years perfecting– but with his luck, you will most likely think it’s steaming garbage. Yet, he watches intently; holding his breath as your perfect lips curl to blow softly, cooling the sauce before you finally taste it. 
The moment the spoon touches your tongue, you're determined to remain impartial. After all, you’ve had your fair share of disappointing meals from men who’ve claimed to be great cooks. Aegon certainly could be the very latest and you wouldn’t be at all surprised. So, you keep your expectations low, and try your hardest to remain stoic, but as the flavors begin to unfold, you can feel your resolve wavering. 
It’s good. Better than most. 
Reluctantly, you have to admit that this is the second-best sauce you’ve ever had, right after your grandmother’s. You glance up at Aegon, who’s watching you with a mix of anxiety and hope, and you can’t help but smile. 
“I have to give it to you,” you say, your voice betraying a hint of admiration. “This is incredible. Almost as good as my grandmother’s.”
The relief and pride that spread across his face makes your heart flutter. 
“Yeah?” He asks with a toothy grin. 
“I’m still not completely convinced that you can actually cook, but you can– at the very least– make some top-notch spaghetti sauce,” you tell him as you place your spoon to the side. 
“Top-notch, eh?” He asks playfully as he begins plating your meal. “I’ll take it.” 
“Don’t let it get to your head,” you say to him with a laugh. “It’s just spaghetti sauce.” 
“Just spaghetti sauce? Don’t let my mum hear you say that,” he says with a smirk, setting a full plate in front of you on the counter. “I guess I’ll just have to work extra hard on the next one.”
“Assuming there will be a next one,” you reply, tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Though, you have set the bar pretty high tonight. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Well,” he murmurs as he steps closer, his body brushing against yours as he reaches around you to grab a plate. His lips are hovering above the shell of your ear, his voice low and teasing, causing your cheeks to immediately flush as the heat between the two of you intensifies. “I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.”
For a split second you expect for him to lean in for a kiss. Your heart is simultaneously skipping beats and racing at the same time; your breath catching in your throat as he leans in— But then he smirks, grabbing the plate and taking a step backwards. He’s doing it on purpose, you realize; his proximity expertly calculated to keep you on edge. You look up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The soft blush of your cheeks has his blood pumping and sends a surge of adrenaline through him. He’s trying his absolute best to play it cool but the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him has him unraveling.
“Is that so?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “What other skills do you have up your sleeve?”
His grin widens as he looks down at you, setting his empty plate to the side. His gaze, once again, drops to your lips. “I have a few tricks,” he says softly, his voice filled with promise. “But I doubt you’d believe me if I told you, so how about I just show you?” 
“What?” You ask with a playful innocence. “Before dinner?”
“I’m not really in the mood for spaghetti anymore.” 
“Oh?” Your smirk is only growing. “What are you in the mood for?”
Aegon says nothing, but a confident grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he rests his hands on your hips. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in by the waist, until you’re pressed against him and his lips are on yours. The kiss is both gentle and urgent and a little bit awkward, as any first kiss should be. You felt like a teenager again, kissing a boy for the first time– butterflies in your stomach and all.
It takes no time at all for you to find your rhythm with him, and he deepens the kiss, pushing you up onto the kitchen counter to meet his height. Your arms naturally drape across his shoulders, your legs wrap around his middle. He’s completely taken over your mind, filling up every tiny space that he can fit into; the smell of his cologne, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, the feeling of his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs– his fingertips teasing just underneath the hem of your shorts. 
Breathless, he pulls away from you as he pulls your sweatshirt over your head. He stops for a moment to take in the sight of you; clad only in your bra and shorts, lips red and blotchy, swollen and full. You’re looking up at him from under your lashes, softly biting your bottom lip as you wait for him to continue. He gently lifts his hand up to your cheek and traces the curve of your cupid’s bow with his thumb, providing one last show of tenderness before he leans in to capture your lips in another searing kiss. 
His touch is suddenly rushed; spreading a wildfire across your skin in the wake of his lips as he rips off the remainder of your clothes. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re sitting exposed on his kitchen counter in only a thong, blushing wildly and covering your face with your hands. 
“No– no hiding,” he clicks his tongue and pulls your hands away from your face. “I want to see you.”
He whispers a string of profanities and compliments as his starving eyes roam your figure. Self-doubt creeps into your mind and you momentarily consider making a quick exit, convinced he won’t like what he sees, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel desired in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. 
Aegon’s gaze is electrifying and intense, drawing you in and silencing your negative thoughts instantly. His hands pull you in by the waist, sliding you to the edge of the counter as his lips work their way down your chin and neck; leaving a trail of red marks down to your chest. He hums, smirking as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth. His hand kneads the other, rolling your hardened nipple between two fingers. Your head falls back, lips parted slightly as you breathe out his name. 
Each sound he elicits from you urges him on even further until he’s on one knee, looking up at you from his position with those pretty eyes. He runs a hand up the back of your calf, softly teasing you with his fingertips before tossing your leg over his shoulder. You knew where he was going, and yet, you were still surprised as he began placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs; shivering in anticipation as goosebumps formed on your skin. 
“You’re so wet,” he says proudly, praising you. 
His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers delicately smooth over your clothed clit. He hooks a finger around the dampened cotton and pulls your thong to the side, groaning at the sight of your perfect pussy. Without wasting another second, Aegon’s mouth is suddenly on you and your hands immediately find the back of his head; fingers curling into the roots of his silver hair. 
You roll your hips against his tongue, cursing out as your legs begin to shake. He moans, face still buried deep in you and the vibrations have you writhing. Both of his arms are wrapped around your thighs now, holding you tight to him, not letting up for even a second. Then he stands, lifting you up onto his shoulders. You squeal in shock, holding onto him tightly, but he doesn’t stop; he continues to devour you as he blindly carries you towards his bedroom. 
When his knees hit the side of his bed, he tosses you back onto the mattress. 
You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he strips out of his clothes. . You can see the outline of his arousal; prominent and pressing firmly against the fabric of his sweats. You bite your lip at the sight and he smirks as he catches your stare. His movements are unhurried, giving you ample time to appreciate the sight before you. His hoodie and shirt come off first, then his sweats, and you can’t help but notice the way that his muscles flex with each motion. He’s not overly built, but there’s a solid strength in his frame that is evident in the way he moves.
Outside, headlights from passing cars cast streaks of light and shadows across the walls of his room. It’s quiet, the music in the other room has stopped playing and all you can hear is the sound of your own heart beating in your ears. You swallow thickly, encompassed by the tension of the moment as he crawls up the length of your body; placing tender kisses along your skin. His lips leave a trail of warmth, each touch igniting a spark that travels through your entire body.
When he reaches your face, he pauses, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches away. The anticipation builds, thick and electric in the air between you. His lips find yours in a kiss that starts slow and tender but quickly deepens; fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you closer, his body pressing yours deeper into the plush mattress. Your hands explore his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the tension and strength beneath his skin and coming to rest on his shoulders; gripping tightly as he continues to worship your body with his mouth. Each kiss, each touch, is deliberate, heightening your senses and pulling you further into the moment.
You curse at the feeling of his girth against your entrance. Your hand moves up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips as he presses slowly into you. 
“Oh fuck,” he whimpers into the crook of your neck as his arms become weak. 
He knows that he won’t last like this; it’s been a while and you feel way too good. He’s slow at first, wanting to steady himself and maintain control, but his rhythm picks up quickly; hips moving with an unrelenting rhythm, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. You can feel his muscles tense, his grip on you tightening as he buries his face in your neck. His moans are a mix of pleasure and desperation, and you can tell he’s fighting to hold back.
You tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling the overwhelming need to reach that peak together. His pace quickens, the tension in his body building to a breaking point. You feel the same pressure inside of you mounting before it’s suddenly crashing over you like a wave. He follows seconds later, a low groan escaping his lips as he spills into you. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other, bathing in the afterglow. 
“That was incredible,” he murmurs against your skin, head pressed to your chest as you stroke his hair softly. His eyes flutter shut as he listens to the sounds of your heartbeat. 
You hum in agreement, smiling to yourself as you savor the peacefulness of the moment. 
Suddenly, you’re joined by Sunfyre jumping up on the bed, his tail wagging enthusiastically. You smile at him and pat the empty space next to you, inviting him to join your cuddle session. He eagerly accepts the invitation, circling the bed a few times before snuggling up next to you. Aegon lifts his head and smiles, clearly pleased that you would be so open to having the dog in bed with you. He wraps his arm around both you and Sunfyre, pulling you closer. 
“This is perfect,” he says softly, his voice filled with contentment as he lays his head back on your chest. 
"So, about that job offer," you say playfully, your fingers tracing patterns along his skin. "I think I'll accept the position. When would you like for me to start?"
He lifts his head to look at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “How about tomorrow night at seven?”
Before you can respond, a distinct burning smell reaches your nose. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. “Do you smell that?”
Aegon’s eyes widen in realization. “The spaghetti!” 
He jumps up from the bed, pulling on his clothes quickly, and scrambles into the kitchen. You follow behind him, tossing one of his t-shirts over your head and meet him in the kitchen. 
“I guess I forgot to turn off the burner,” Aegon looks disappointed but then chuckles, shaking his head. He looks at you with a glint in his eye and smirks. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“Oh, that sucks!” You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Is it too late to back out of the job now?”
“Way too late for that,” he says as he pulls you into a soft kiss, silencing any doubts immediately. “You’re mine now.” 
“Mm,” you hum against his lips. “But I came here for the spaghetti.”
He chuckles and pulls back slightly. “Will you settle for pizza?”
“I’ll settle for anything, as long as it’s with you,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around his waist. “And as long as there’s extra cheese!”
2K notes · View notes
dykestache · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
new heart bong 🫀
5K notes · View notes
ripleylarue · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
I made this print so long ago but everyone loves her
(You can buy one here 💋)
2K notes · View notes
exquisite-peculiarity · 5 months
Text
4/20 related post that I forgot to make yesterday.
Edit- "stopped for some reason" includes job, reliable access, a home environment that allows it, sobriety, etc.
3K notes · View notes
edwinspaynes · 2 months
Text
I think the fundamental difference between the boys' respective approaches to death is that Edwin views himself as a supernatural entity while Charles views himself as the ghost of a human being
1K notes · View notes
stonerparty · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
velvetcrimsonkisses · 4 months
Text
Stoner!Choso x reader
Cw: smut
My stoner Choso is a loser and I love him like this 🤧
Tumblr media
“You look stressed,” Choso says, looking at you as he leaned against his car. “It was a stressful day,” you retorted, leaning against his car right next to him. He gives you a small smile as he takes a hit from the blunt between his fingers. 
You and Choso were friends. Really close friends. That was it. Both of you too scared to even say anything for the sake of your friendship. You were okay with this, he liked hanging out with you and so did you. But sometimes you catch yourself thinking, what would it be like to be more.  To be his. Would your relationship really change? You both already acted so much like a couple. 
The blunt comes slowly down from his lips, he looks over to you and smirks. You knew what he was about to do. “NO” you say suddenly, as he comes closer to blow the smoke in your face. “Ew, Cho. You know I hate that shit,” you remark as you try to waft the smoke out of your face. “I know,” he replies with a deep chuckle with no amount of remorse. “Want a hit?” he quickly asks, holding up the blunt. You think for a good few seconds but, obviously too long for how impatient Choso is because he’s already holding the blunt to your mouth already. “Go,” he encourages you as you begin inhaling. “Woah, woah slow down,” he smirks, removing the blunt from your lips. He watches you attentively as you exhale, studying your face as you glare at him. “I don’t like that,” you say with a small cough. 
He gives you a shit-eating grin before he takes another hit. “Wanna hear music then? Might help you relax,” he looks over to you once again exhaling the smoke. “I guess,” you say as you watch him walk over to the driver's side to turn on the car. He shifts through songs until he finds one he's sure you'd both like. “This good?” he asks as he hops out of the car. As you nod he sticks his hand out to you. “What?” you laugh. “Dance with me,” he requests. You can’t help but think how cute he looks, like a puppy with those big brown eyes begging you. “You’re high,” you scoff, giving him a smile. “No…” he grins again, taking your hands and pulling you closer into him.
You dance together, both of you high out of your minds with clumsy steps. Stepping on his feet more than you’d liked to admit, but you still notice the way he looks at you. His eyes half closed, slightly red, gazing intently at you. Lips slightly chapped and parted, his hair down, head slightly tilted as you feel him leaning in closer and closer into you. Your heart beats faster as you become more conscious of his hands. Wrapped tightly around your waist, almost as if he is afraid you’ll run away from him. 
And before you know it, you're making out with him against his car. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers threading through his soft brown strands, while his hands gently trace any exposed skin he can find as his other hand holds your thigh up, pulling you closer to him. Kisses growing hotter and more needy, he can’t help but slowly grind into you. Desperate for some type of friction against his hard-on and you gladly meet his sudden movements. Bodies pressed together as they move in a rhythmic motion, unable to stop the urge to get closer to each other. Choso leaves your lips with a small tug. “More… more please,” he buries his head in the crook of your neck. 
Placing small kisses on your neck, you can’t help but give into him. Especially once you’re in his car, windows all fogged up, and his fingers deep inside you. “So pretty f’me” he coos as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “Does.. does it feel good?” he hesitantly asks. “Yes, yes, so good cho.” As you make his confidence spike with your praise, he turns you over so you're now face to face sitting on him. “Please, can you please ride me?” he begs you, flashing you once again those big brown eyes. And who are you to deny this pretty boy… 
“Fu- fuck… baby,” Choso whines, trying to buck his hips up into you. “Wait, be patient cho,” you line up his cock to your entrance and slowly move down onto him. “So pretty,” Choso gawks at you as his hands come up to your tits. A string of curses escape your mouth as you finally take him all. His hands wrap around you to keep you in place as your back arches. “Can I move inside you now?” he asks, confusion spreading across your face. “I’m supposed to move…” you question. His hands quickly grip at the flesh on your hips. 
“Can’t” thrust “Wait” thrust. 
Choso loses control and continues to thrust into you roughly. Moving his hands to your ass, he lifts you up and down on his cock. Your tits bouncing in his face with every hard thrust. Without a second thought, he leans forward and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Tongue skillfully swirling around it as he sucks it, still pumping into you relentlessly. He's left you speechless, all you could do was moan at the way he was using you. One of his hands from your ass comes up.
Smack
His hand comes down hard on your ass. He does it a few more times, each slapping leaving a slight red mark on your hot flesh. Still pounding you merciless, he attaches his lips to you once again. “M’so close… so close” he mumbles through the kiss. “Can I cum please?” he groans as you feel his cock twitch inside you. “Fuck, you’re getting so tight,” he whines and you could almost swear you see tears if it wasn’t so damn dark. You finally give him a nod as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. A chant of thank you’s fly out his mouth.
“Thank you.. thank.. you,” he whimpers as he fills you up. His warm cum mixing with your wetness, attempting to drip down your thighs. Both of you panting heavily as he pulls out. Choso’s chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. “Can.. can i taste you?”
Your jaw drops slightly as his sudden request. “You want to eat me out? After how hard you just fucked me?” you ask as you take notice of his little grin. 
Somehow he managed to lay you down… as comfortably as he could and went to town. Burying his face between your legs. His tongue flick up and down, tasting you. Lapping up both your arousal and his own cum. “So.. greedy cho,” you tease him, watching how pussy drunk he’s  getting. “I love.. love.. love so much,” he hums into your cunt, sending vibrations through it. 
“You talking to my pussy or me?” you laugh softly and you tangle your fingers through his hair. “Both..” he mumbles, refusing at all to come up for air. He continues to fuck you with his tongue. Eating you out as if you were his last meal. He notices as you arch your back, quickly picking up the pace because he knew you were so close. “Cum on my face.. please,” he groans. And you do just that. You cream all over his pretty face. “You taste so good,” he whispers, feeling his hot breath on your pussy. He looks down at his work, admiring how fucked out you look. He helps you sit back up, being as gentle as he could be. “Look, we made my windows all foggy,” he smiles as his finger comes up to draw a heart. “You’re so dumb,” you giggle. 
2K notes · View notes
st4y-strippy20 · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
my heart 🫶🏼
2K notes · View notes
saeyoungchoismaid · 5 months
Text
I WAS TODAY YEARS OLD WHEN I FOUND OUT THAT SEBASTIAN IS CANONICALLY A SMOKER AND USED TO HAVE A BONG IN HIS ROOM BEFORE THEY UPDATED THE GAME
Tumblr media
They eventually turned it into a vase and now it's just not there at all
2K notes · View notes
weed-lovers · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes