stuffy | ljn
plug!jeno x fem!reader
summary: the only way you see him is in the low lights of his stuffy room, but you can't stop coming back for more.
wc: 1.8k 18+ mdni
cw: fwb to ???, dom!jeno, mostly smut, angst, fluff at end, weed use, shotgunning, mentions of addiction (not weed), protected pinv sex, big dick jeno, fingering, edging/overstim, light slapping like once, pet names: baby, pretty, good girl
happy jeno day and belated 4/20! ♡
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
you’re addicted.
you never were one to smoke, to drink — to indulge in substances that altered your mind. never one to indulge in people who altered your mind.
yet every saturday, your legs take you to the house at the end of the block, up the stairs, and down the hall to a door on your right, plastered with a plain black sign reading “do not enter.” you knock anyways, knowing that sign doesn’t apply to you — he knows you’re coming.
when your knock is not answered, you press your ear against the door, trying to listen to check if he’s in there. he’s always in there, but the music blasting downstairs doesn’t make it any easier to figure it out. you close your eyes, turning to lean your forehead on the door.
should you go home? it’s not too late to. maybe it’s time to break this cycle.
your thoughts distract you from the steps leading to the door, and you almost fall forward as the door opens abruptly, the pungent scent of weed hitting your nose almost immediately. strong arms steady you as you look up.
“took you long enough.”
his deep voice, made even raspier by the flower in his lungs, sends a wave down your spine. ah, yes. there’s no way you could miss out on him, knowing that if you did go home, just the thought of being in his arms would send you running right back.
“hi, jeno.”
he leads you in, closing the door behind you. his room is a bit stuffy as always from the constant hotboxing, and you take your usual spot on his bed as he packs you a fresh bowl, wordless as his hands do all the work.
it’s always like this — quiet, yet with an understanding you hope is shared by only you two. you know he hates when people are too loud, and if you’re being honest, you don’t really know what to say around him.
he hands you his bong, painted with his initials, and lights the ground leaves for you as you press your lips to the mouthpiece. you’ve done this enough times since the first time he taught you to, and you let the chamber fill with smoke. he takes the bowl off, letting the smoke jet down your throat, and you take it.
“that’s good, baby.”
his praise sends shivers, and you take more and more hits, wanting to hear more, even if you know he won’t say too much. but even if he doesn’t say anything, the smirk on his face lets you know he’s proud.
“hold that one in,” he instructs as you take your nth hit, having lost count a long time ago. he comes closer to you, and with a firm grip on the back of your neck, brings your face closer to his until your lips are just hovering. the smoke threatens to seep out of your mouth, but you hold on for him. he pecks you on the lips before tapping you lightly on the cheek.
“good girl, now give it to me.”
you let go, and jeno crashes his lips into yours, letting the smoke seep out between your messy mouths, your highs making everything just so sloppy. his hands snake around your waist, hands trailing up to explore the skin under your shirt as his lips remain attached to yours.
you let him do this every time, and you want him to. every day of the week feels like a waiting game for the next time you’ll have his hands on you, hazy bodies of even hazier minds intertwined in his stuffy little room.
your clothes come off, and so do his, with some mention of the stuffiness, but your mind is just focused on jeno. his glossed over, red eyes peer into yours as your gaze follows his trail of kisses down your chest, to your abdomen, and finally settling between your legs. he spreads your folds, grinning to see you already glistening for him.
“you wanted to see me so bad, didn’t you, pretty?” his thumb trails lightly up and down your slit as you gasp at the contact, moaning at how just the lightest of his touches can send you into a frenzy.
while jeno values silence, it irritates him in bed. he asked you a question. his thumb dips into your entrance without warning, starting to stretch you out. you gasp at the sudden intrusion, everything being even more heightened by the drugs coursing through your blood.
“answer me.” his thumb moves in and out, other digits going to rub circles into your clit. “you didn’t want to see me?” he coos with a slight fake pout.
“no!” you finally snap out of your high daze temporarily to answer him. jeno chuckles. he thinks you’re so cute like this, so pliable and needy for him. “i wanted to see you, was thinking about it all week.”
“oh yeah?” he asks, one of his hands leaving to pump at his already hard member. “was thinking about you all week, too.” both hands leave you, and you whine at the loss of contact, but jeno just slaps at your thigh lightly.
“be patient, you’ll get what you want.” you hear rustling, and look down to see him lowering a condom onto his member. your mouth drools at his size, sitting heavy in his hand as he hisses at the tight rubber. if you could take a picture, you would, but for now you’ll settle for burning it into your memories.
he doesn’t immediately enter you, going back between your legs. he rubs up and down your slit with 2 long fingers before pushing them into you. like earlier, the intrusion sends shocks, but each ridge of his knuckles has your mind reeling. he slowly pushes them in and out, curling his fingers up every so often as you writhe beneath him.
with how sensitive the weed makes you, you know you aren’t gonna last long, especially when he starts thumbing at your clit again. but jeno knows what he wants. his fingers move faster and faster — he knows he’s good with his hands, and his lips curl up as he feels the familiar pulsing.
your legs start to writhe more and more with each thrust and swipe, and you can feel the band in your stomach tightening and tightening, threatening to snap. eyes rolling up, you are just seconds away from your peak —
you gasp as he rips his fingers out of you, almost crying at the loss, only to get the wind knocked out of you as something else, way bigger and hotter, enters you in one swoop. your mouth opens, but no sound comes out as you cum hard.
jeno groans as he feels your tight cunt pulse around him, even more turned on by you cumming from him just entering you. he has to compose himself, also super sensitive from the weed. but this is what he wanted — feeling you wrapped around him, inner walls massaging him. he takes pride in the way your body reacts exactly like he wants it to.
“so fucking tight.” your pussy is gripping firmly as your hands fist his pillows beneath your head. he plants his feet, making his way down to kiss you as his hands interweave with yours, pinning your hands beside you.
“take it, baby.” his hips start to move. “i know you can.”
in no time, his hips begin to piston, deep grunts in time with the moans leaving you, sensitive and overstimulated cunt taking all of him in, doing exactly what he told you to. you always do what he tells you to. every snap of his hips has you seeing stars, hands holding onto his for dear life.
he’s not gonna last long, grunting and panting at the feeling of your pussy tightening even more at the onset of another undoing. your cries get louder and louder, unable to form any words as his movements numb your mind further and further.
“f-fuck, always so fucking good for me.” his hips start to get uncoordinated, but a harsh stutter has you cumming around him once more. he grits his teeth as his hips slap against yours harshly, cumming with a loud groan as his hips still.
he twitches a bit as he comes down, moving his gaze to you catching your breath as your eyes flutter. he plants a deep kiss on your lips before hissing at the feeling of his softened member leaving you.
separating from you, he removes the condom, tying it and chucking it into the bin next to his desk. he puts on a t-shirt and sweats, and silently walks out the door, glancing at your spent form on his bed.
you’ve caught your breath, and your heart sinks as you realize it’s your time to leave. to wait another whole week before you can do this again. to go through the motions of dealing with this desire for a man you only know in the low lights and stuffy feeling of his room or from the orders he drops off weekly to your roommate.
you know can’t overstep, so you reluctantly get up to put your clothes on, assuming that as always, he’ll come back long after you’ve left.
you finish dressing, but the door opens again before you even reach it. jeno stands there, two cups of water in his hands. why is he back so soon?
“sorry, was on the way out.” you move to brush past him, but to your surprise, he blocks your path.
“here.” he offers you one of the cups, and your eyes move from the cup up to his face. an expression you’ve never seen on him before graces his features, and he looks almost.. shy? you take the cup gratefully, and take a sip as jeno closes his door. your eyes follow as he climbs on his bed to open the only window in the room, letting a pleasant breeze in.
he looks back at you, patting the bed next to him.
“stay over?”
you move on autopilot, unable to deny him as you climb into his bed. as you close your eyes, resting in this warm embrace, once cold and temporary, you hold on tight as he lulls you to sleep. your thoughts are all over the place, but of one thing you’re sure.
you’re addicted, but so is he.
end.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
a/n: surprise!! it's almost 2am rn and i have so many things on my writing list but was somehow miraculously able to get this out really quickly for jeno day!! i wanted to make him a scarier plug and end the fic sadly but u all know me.. i cant do that :'o i've been kind of less active bc i've been super busy and tired recently, but i hope everyone is doing well! feedback and shares are always appreciated
-coco♡
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one of the things that i think we should pay attention to, socially, about the disney v. desantis thing is that it is really highlighting the importance of remembering nuance.
in a purely neutral sense, if you engage in something problematic, that does not mean you are necessarily agreeing with what makes it problematic. and i am worried that we have become... so afraid of any form of nuance.
disney isn't my friend, they're a corporate monopoly that bastardized copyright laws for their own benefit, ruin the environment, and abuse their workers (... and many other things). this isn't a hypothetical for me - i grew up in florida. i also worked for the actual Walt Disney World; like, in the parks. i am keenly aware of the ways they hurt people, because they hurt me. i fully believe that part of the reason florida is so conservative is because it's been an "open secret" for years now that disney lobbies the government to keep minimum wage down, and i know they worked hard to keep the parks unmasked and open during the worst parts of Covid. they purposefully keep their employees in poverty. they are in part responsible for the way the floridian government works.
desantis is still, by a margin that is frankly daunting, way worse. the alternative here isn't just "republicans win", it's actual fascism.
in a case like this, where the alternative is to allow actual fascism into united states legislation - where, if desantis wins, there are huge and legal ramifications - it's tempting to minimize the harm disney is also doing, because... well, it's not fascism. but disney isn't the good guy, either, which means republicans are having a field day asking activists oh, so you think their treatment of their employees is okay?
we have been trained there is a right answer. you're right! you're in the good group, and you're winning at having an opinion.
except i have the Internet Prophecy that in 2-3 months, even left-wing people will be ripping apart activists for having "taken disney's side". aren't i an anti-capitalist? aren't i pro-union? aren't i one of the good ones? removed from context and nuance (that in this particular situation i am forced to side with disney, until an other option reveals itself), my act of being like "i hope they have goofy rip his throat out onstage, shaking his lifeless body like a dog toy" - how quickly does that seem like i actually do support disney?
and what about you! at home, reading this. are you experiencing the Thought Crime of... actually liking some of the things disney has made? your memories of days at the parks, or of good movies, or of your favorite show growing up. maybe you are also evil, if you ever enjoyed anything, ever, at all.
to some degree, the binary idealization/vilification of individual motive and meaning already exists in the desantis case. i have seen people saying not to go to the disney pride events because they're cash grabs (they are). i've seen people saying you have to go because they're a way to protest. there isn't a lot of internet understanding of nuance. instead it's just "good show of support" or "evil bootlicking."
this binary understanding is how you can become radicalized. when we fear nuance and disorder, we're allowing ourselves the safety of assuming that the world must exist in binary - good or bad, problematic or "not" problematic. and unfortunately, bigots want you to see the world in this binary ideal. they want you to get mad at me because "disney is taking a risk for our community but you won't sing their praises" and they want me to get mad at you for not respecting the legit personal trauma that disney forced me through.
in a grander scheme outside of disney: what happens is a horrific splintering within activist groups. we bicker with each other about minimal-harm minimal-impact ideologies, like which depiction of bisexuality is the most-true. we gratuitously analyze the personal lives of activists for any sign they might be "problematic". we get spooked because someone was in a dog collar at pride. we wring our hands about setting an empty shopping mall on fire. we tell each other what words we may identify ourselves by. we get fuckin steven universe disk horse when in reality it is a waste of our collective time.
the bigots want you to spend all your time focusing on how pristine and pretty you and your interests are. they want us at each other's throats instead of hand in hand. they want to say see? nothing is ever fucking good enough for these people.
and they want their followers to think in binary as well - a binary that's much easier to follow. see, in our spaces, we attack each other over "proper" behavior. but in bigoted groups? they attack outwards. they have someone they hate, and it is us. they hate you, specifically, and you are why they have problems - not the other people in their group. and that's a part of how they fucking keep winning.
some of the things that are beloved to you have a backbone in something terrible. the music industry is a wasteland. the publishing industry is a bastion of white supremacy. video games run off of unpaid labor and abuse.
the point of activism was always to bring to light that abuse and try to stop it from happening, not to condemn those who engage in the content that comes from those industries. "there is no ethical consumption under late capitalism" also applies to media. your childhood (and maybe current!) love of the little mermaid isn't something you should now flinch from, worried you'll be a "disney adult". wanting the music industry to change for the better does not require that you reject all popular music until that change occurs. you can acknowledge the harm something might cause - and celebrate the love that it has brought into your life.
we must detach an acknowledgment of nuance from a sense of shame and disgust. we must. punishing individual people for their harmless passions is not doing good work. encouraging more thoughtful, empathetic consumption does not mean people should feel ashamed of their basic human capacities and desires. it should never have even been about the individual when the corporation is so obviously the actual evil. this sense that we must live in shame and dread of our personal nuances - it just makes people bitter and hopeless. do you have any idea how scared i am to post this? to just acknowledge the idea of nuance? that i might like something nuanced, and engage in it joyfully? and, at the same time, that i'm brutally aware of the harm that they're doing?
"so what do i do?" ... well, often there isn't a right answer. i mean in this case, i hope mickey chops off ron's head and then does a little giggle. but truth be told, often our opinions on nuanced subjects will differ. you might be able to engage in things that i can't because the nuance doesn't sit right with me. i might think taylor swift is a great performer and a lot of fun, and you might be like "raquel, the jet fuel emissions". we are both correct; neither of us have any actual sway in this. and i think it's important to remember that - the actual scope of individual responsibility. like, i also love going to the parks. Thunder Mountain is so fun. you (just a person) are not responsible for the harm that Disney (the billion dollar corporation) caused me. i don't know. i think it's possible to both enjoy your memories and interrogate the current state of their employment policies.
there is no right way to interrogate or engage with nuance - i just hope you embrace it readily.
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