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slothspaghettiwrites · 1 year ago

Text

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 I need this

Chainsmoking Your Love

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Warnings: mildly dubious consent, drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, heavy making out, slight dry humping, no powers au, mostly just giggles and softness

Relationships: Bruce Banner x Reader

Word Count: 1818

Summary: You let Wanda drag you to another Stark party after a long week. During a smoke break, you have a great encounter.

A/N: inspired by the absolutely lovely @boop-le-snoot

This work has Adult Content. By clicking “Keep Reading” you have agreed that you are over the age of 18 and are willing to view such content. My work is not to be copied or translated onto any other platform.

🚬

The summer night air is cool, darkness falling over the city and relieving the sweltering heat of a long day spent working. It is time for revelers and homebodies alike to cool off. Thoughts of quitting float through your mind again, like they always did on Friday nights when you felt this exhausted. You let Wanda drag you out to another Stark Certified Rager. The music in the posh house thumps and vibrates, the booze is surprisingly nice and free-flowing. This isn’t exactly how you want to spend your evening, but your roommate begged and you are too weak for her puppy eyes.

It’s weird having an in at these fancy house parties, Wanda’s boyfriend doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy this kind of crowd, doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy anything if you were honest. But he’s here every Friday and therefore so is Wanda. The last time you had been here, you barely remember what had happened, waking with more clothes on than you had arrived in and a splitting headache. It took a whole damn week to get over that hangover.

You find Wanda in the kitchen, slow dancing with Vision despite the fast beat of the living room’s music blaring and vibrating the walls around them. They are lost in their own little world like they usually are. You make eye contact with her, wave your lighter at her just to let her know you’re stepping out. She gives you a smile, it’s the briefest acknowledgment before she’s lost to this world again. The sliding glass door onto the porch doesn’t make a sound when you open and close it, slipping into the cool night air.

You pull one of the joints you'd rolled at home before coming out from your box of cigarettes. After a long week, you need an extra push to relax and quell the anxiety of having to socialize. Your lighter flicks, a flame bursting to life to set your feeling a blaze so like ash the breeze will blow them away. The lush green aroma surrounds you, the buzzing of mosquito zapper quieting your mind. You slowly release the smoke from your lips, a heavy sigh releasing the tension in your shoulders until you are laying back against the ridiculous, plush outdoor sofa.

The night envelopes you in her comforting embrace, wispy clouds trying to dance around the moon keep you distracted. So much so, you miss the quick change in volume, followed by the door clicking shut again.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

An older man, probably one of Tony's friends, dressed in a purple button-down and cargo shorts of all things stands awkwardly by the door. You're slow to move, to shift across the furniture so he can sit with you. You pat the space you made for him and take another drag. It's only once he asks for a light you noticed he's brought his own joint, or cigarette at least. You watch the flame return, highlight his strong brow and graying scruff on his beard, a more intense green smell fills the air. He really brought the good stuff with him.

"So you come here often?"

You giggle, it's an obvious and cheesy line, but you like how the words form on his lips. Your eyes zero in on his other features- soft cheeks, a straight nose, large hands. He’s gorgeous, mysterious, another oddball in the Stark Menageries of party guests.

"No, I- uhm, I'm here with a friend, she begged me to come out tonight," you nodded along to your own short story. "I'm just not one for these parties."

"Every week I tell Tony I can't come to another one of his ‘gathering’, but here I am." He shrugs, a smirk on his lips, and blows smoke into the air, adding to your green smell.

Silence falls between you, crickets chirp in the yard and the world continues to turn. Soon, the man sat next to you starts to ramble on about cosmic entanglement and the theories of everything. It’s so strange, far out, and different from your everyday conversations. It’s nothing like the complaining of coworkers or Wanda waxing poetically about Vis or Pietro talking shit about nothing. Bruce is talking like he believes in more like there is more to this world. You giggle uncontrollably between puffs, your joint nearly gone now and the haze starting to cloud your mind. Your fingers tingle, heavy but itching to touch and feel the man next to you.

"Is this," you cough, "just high you or do you always talk about the metaphysical helter-skelter of the universe?"

He coughs around his own drag and starts to giggle with you. His floppy curls bounce as his shoulder shake. Again you found yourself staring at his mouth, hyper-focused on the way his lips formed words, how his tongue darted out to wet them several times, how his teeth dug into them when he caught you staring. Your hand falls on his knee right at the edge of his shorts. He’s warm or maybe your hand is a bit colder than you thought it would be. Your name bubbles up from your lips and spills over in a soft sigh. A baser part of your mind lighting up as you let yourself disconnect, all that matters is the feeling of his skin under your hand. You wanna feel more of him, want to feel his hands running over your flesh, chasing away the final remnants of anxiety and igniting the lust you feel just under the surface of you.

"Bruce," he whispers, a dopey smile on his face and his hand falling on top of your knee to mimic your touch.

His hand is even warmer than you expected, another breathy sigh escaping you, searching for more of it. Your eyes meet, dilating and focusing on one another as seconds, minutes, hours, maybe a lifetime passes before Bruce raises his joint to his lips again. The paper burns and crackles as his chest rises and cheeks ever so slightly hallowing as he takes a deep drag. He sets it down somewhere out of your sight, careful to make sure it doesn’t burn. The hand that isn’t on your knee grabs your face, fingers pulling you closer to him until his lips are almost on yours. You inhale the smoke he breathes into your waiting mouth. His nose bumps yours and it's all giggles again. You repeat the action, nuzzling his face with yours.

"Can I kiss you?"

He asks so sweetly, innocently when compared to the flicking thoughts you've had about him taking you apart piece by piece. His hand moves up your knee slightly while his other hand slides down to caress your neck. A thumb tips your jaw up so you look into his eyes. They're so clear and dark. A smile spreads across your face.

"Please."

The word is barely out before his lips crash into yours. Those big hands of his pull you over his lap, your knees digging into the back of the couch. Your hands thread through his curls, gripping and pulling and massaging, making him groan into the kiss. It's a rush feeling this in control and exposed. Everything about Bruce slots into place in you- mind, body, soul. His hands know where to touch. You’re melting into the embrace, limbs softening and your mind floating away from you. Briefly, you think if it weren’t for your clothes, you’d be a puddle, a goo surrounding Bruce’s feet because of how you feel. Another giggle bubbles up between wet kisses.

“You okay?”

Bruce pulls back slightly, his spit slick lips shining in the blue light. You nod, going in for another kiss. It’s a quick one, mostly because it lands at the corner of his mouth. He smiles, kisses your cheek, and moves his hands under your shirt to steady you. The sigh that leaves your mouth is almost a moan, it’s soft and warm just like how you feel. He pulls you back, another near-miss, and more giggles erupt. You take his face between your hands to steady him. He’s so warm, welcoming. His face is dimly lit, it should give him an edge, a harsh look in the summer night, but all you can think about is how you want to drown in his eyes and feast on his lips.

This kiss hits the mark this time. Plush lips collide with yours so sweetly, so sinfully. It steals your breath away and Bruce seems to breathe life back into you at the same time. Your hips start to move against his. It’s not desperate, the simmering desire rolling through you isn't incessant or demanding. If anything it's the only thing keeping you from truly turning to mush. It gives you something delicious to focus on, and Bruce is oh so delicious. His hands are mapping out the curves of your body, every dip and bump he treats with care. Your body doesn't feel like your own, so loose and free and under his control really.

There isn't a thought to take whatever this is somewhere else, maybe find some privacy so you can feel more of Bruce beneath you. This is perfect for now. If you can remember, before Wanda drags you home, you want to ask for his number. Maybe grab a drink, a coffee would be nice, something sickly sweet and heaped full of caffeine. Or maybe you'd just-

"Brucie Bear," a voice calls out.

A giggle breaks out. You can't control it. Your head rolling back a little before nuzzling into the man.

"Tony," he groans, you aren't making it any easier for him. Still shamelessly rolling your hips, lips attaching to his pulse point. The thought of leaving your mark on him is at the forefront of your mind. A gift to remember you by. "Really?"

"Yes, I'm going to help you win at beer pong."

"I've wandered into some frat universe, haven't I?"

One final giggle comes out of you when you climb off, falling back into the couch. Tony has disappeared as quickly as he materialized. Bruce leans down and kisses your lips, then your forehead. He leaves you a pile of giggling goo. You aren't sure how long you lay there.

The night air blows over you, further shooing away the heat of the day but not the heat simmering just under your skin. The bug zapper goes off, making your cloudy brain clear up some. You sit up slowly, hand rubbing over your eyes. He left his half smoked joint on the small coffee table. You pick it up and smile, happy to keep the buzz going until Wanda is ready to go. You place it between your lips and search for your lighter, unable to find it.

Looks like you'll definitely need to see Bruce again.

#bruce banner #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x gn!reader #bruce banner x gender neutral!reader #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #stoner!bruce banner #stoner!bruce banner x stoner!reader #i use the phrase stoner loosely #mildly dubious consent #because of drug use #but both parties are very into it

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