SUMMARY : after a few rounds, soldier boy takes a blunt break and you discover a fetish you didn't know existed.
WARNINGS : strong language. lust. smut. unprotected p in v. under-the-influence sex. getting high during sex. creampies. cowgirling. cockwarming. shotgunning. weed consumption. second hand smoke. smoking kink. breeding kink (if you squint).
A/N : can't get soldier boy out of my mind 😩 also him offering his weed—what a generous daddy.
Soldier Boy grunts over your body violently, the tendons in his neck visible as he finishes in you yet again. You feel his condomless dick pulse against your gummy walls and spew hot cum onto your cervix. Not that he cared before with the guarantee of abortion, but now, with modernized medicine, with his hips flush against your ass, he could fill your cunt to the brim without the promise of having to father another kid. Round after round, Soldier Boy sprayed his heavy load into your abused pussy, using you like he was a teenage boy and you were his 'special' sock. You don't mind, just hoping that one of his swimmers makes it through to crown you the mother of his unborn child.
The mattress is drenched in your mixed juices from hours of fucking, and though you're swollen and deserving of a break, you don't want one. He rolls off of you anyway, taking a beat as you catch your breath and come down from your high. You press your thighs together when his seed threatens to escape your spent hole. It doesn't matter; gravity still pushes it out, down your crack, and onto his silky sheets. He reaches over and grabs the tools to enhance his pleasure. With your eyes closed, you hear the lighter ignite before the metal case shuts. And that's when you smell the cannabis.
His puff fills your nostrils, and when your eyes open after turning toward him, you watch as he takes a drag of the blunt. He holds it in his lungs, letting it circulate before releasing it into the sex-filled air. Fuck, he looks sexy. You aren't sure if he makes smoking look sexy or if he looks sexier smoking. Whichever it is, you're thankful for his addiction.
He catches your stare and holds out his joint, offering you a hit. You shake your head, imagining taking it a different way. He shrugs, then brings his fingers back to his lips. The end of the stick glows a bright red as he inhales the marijuana before it returns dull once he stops. You move the covers, and he watches with curiosity as you ignore your shaky legs and climb on top of him, straddling his hips.
"More already? Can't get enough of my hog?" His deep voice cuts through the silence before taking another drag.
You don't answer. Instead, you place your hands on his bearded, chiseled cheeks and kiss him. Your tongue swipes his bottom lip, begging for entry as you grind down on his lap. Without wasting a beat, he opens his mouth, and the smoke floods in yours. You shut your eyes and inhale it slowly, doing your best not to choke and make yourself look like a pussy. The cannabis swirls in your head, making you delightfully dizzy, but that, too, could've been the lack of oxygen. You lean away and exhale what remains. With a flutter, your eyes open to find a huge and amused smile plastered on his face.
"Fuck, doll, just when I thought you couldn't get any hotter."
He sets the mug on the nightstand and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you down and smashing his lips against yours. You're a bit taken aback, but you kiss him just as feverishly. His lips taste like weed, and his beard painfully rubs against your smooth face, but you endure it all for him. Your fingers intertwine with his long hair, and you tug him closer, deepening the kiss. His tongue shoves past your lips and wrestles with yours, but it doesn't last long.
With a moan, you give in and submit to the infamous supe. The hand that was once wrapped around the back of your neck now shifts to your jaw. His thumb rests on your chin, holding your mouth open as he pushes you away, just enough to bring the tightly rolled grass to his lips. He takes a quick puff, aligns his mouth with yours, and blows a line of smoke into it. You feel the fast effects of the soul diesel take control.
Shotgunning wasn't something you had done before; Now you can't help but question why you hadn't tried it sooner. He takes another draw, his gaze unwavering from yours. You feel him grow beneath you, and your body responds. Wetness coats his awakening member, and if he didn't have the blunt between his lips, he'd bite his lower. His hand leaves your face and travels between your bodies, clutching his thick and lengthy cock. He swipes at your folds like his dick was a card, and your lips were the reader. Just like his money, his sex was endless: everything a girl could ever want. His teasing elicits a whimper, and without warning, he sticks his (rather large) chip in your machine.
A heavy gasp falls from your mouth, and he takes the opportunity to blow into it. Your throat burns with delight as he slides further into your spent cunt. The stretch tosses your eyes to the back of your head, and just when you think the smoke nearly suffocates you, Soldier Boy connects his mouth to yours and shoots more fumes down your esophagus. You breathe in sharply through your nose, desperate for air, but it’s no use; The room is filled with hefty clouds of smoke.
Your body squirms, grinding your hips in a circle, needing the friction while also needing oxygen. He shows you mercy and unlatches his lips from yours. Your heart races and your chest heaves, lungs feeling like they’re on fire. It isn’t a resolution, it isn’t even a fix, but it sure is one hell of a distraction when his strong hand squeezes your hip as he begins to move underneath you. Your grip gets tighter, but the pull to his hair doesn’t faze him. His hips rock up into yours, causing your mouth to fall open wider.
Your body arches into him, your breasts smushing against his toned chest. He takes another drag of his spliff, and when he doesn't share, your eyes land on him. You catch a glimpse of wariness, of vulnerability, of second-guessing. He saw your moment of weakness, when the reefer hit you a little too hard all at once. If it were any other girl, any other time, he wouldn’t have cared. Hell, he would’ve kept going, but not with you. So, to assure him that you’re fine, you place both hands back on his cheeks, inching your face closer to his before nodding gently. The second he parts his lips, the smoke floods out of the gates, and with a little push, he directs the vapor toward you.
Just like him, Mary Jane had you by the throat, making you bend at will. Man, oh man, was it fucking you as hard as Soldier Boy was. Your body moves with each thrust, his angle hitting your g-spot perfectly. Between his revitalizing blow and the invigorating effects of the soul diesel, you’re no longer tired. The blend sets you on a high you hadn’t felt before, and you want more—you crave more.
This specific ganja lifts you up, giving your energy a much-needed boost after the last few rounds, and you can’t be more grateful. You push yourself into the cowgirl position, your hands now behind you, resting on his knees for support. He retracts half his cock from your body as you lift yourself higher, his tip threatening to leave its domain. You slam down just as he bucks into you, both of you shouting from the immense pleasure of deeper. If you had any moisture left in your body that wasn't designated between your thighs, you would've teared at how far in your guts he was buried. A rhythm was quickly set, screwing harder than you ever had before. You weren't a supe; Both of you were aware there was always a limit you hit before breaking, but this time was different. This time, the cannabis numbed the pain you'll surely feel tomorrow.
It isn't long after you begin that you cease to meet him halfway. No, it soon becomes out of your control. Your body thrashes, like you were riding a bull, and you try your best to stay on. He watches your breasts bounce with every thrust, your nipples so sharp they cut the puff of smoke he continues to blow your way. Your head spins, and your hands move to his abdomen, bracing to catch yourself if he bucks you off. Moans pour from your lungs and echo throughout his penthouse, accompanied by the pornographic sound your bodies so naturally created. Surely if he were any other supe, there would've been a knock at his door, urging him to keep it down.
You feel your orgasm approaching, and the weed seems to intensify your pleasure. The knot in your belly tightens, and you know it'll be any second before the tension snaps. He sees the once white, now red, of your eyes, and he knows you're on the cusp of euphoria. The fucking pro that he is, sets the blunt between his lips towards the corner of his mouth, leaving a gap big enough to in and exhale, before finally gripping your other hip. With his feet already horizontal with the mattress, he stabs himself deeper. One, two, and on the third jab, you're convulsing on his dick like you were possessed. You cry out in both pain and overwhelming pleasure as you fly higher than you ever thought possible. He grunts out louder than all the times before, and he sprays your insides white.
His face twists as he empties his sack, almost forgetting to balance the bud between his lips as you shudder above him, milking him of every drop. The moment his hips touch the bed, you collapse on top of him, resting your head on his chest. Your heart races at a dangerous pace, but listening to his slower beat helps you find your way back. He tosses the nickel-sized joint into the cup he was using earlier, but not before taking the last hit. He lifts your chin, and your droopy eyelids barely open to see his handsome face. His thumb parts your lips, and you accept his final shotgun. One arm wraps around your body, and his opposite hand holds your jaw, pulling you closer once you exhale. His mouth devours yours, and though you do your best to kiss back just as eagerly, his power of stamina proves to be a lot stronger than the drug you took to enhance yours. Once it begins to wear off and it feels like you scooted across a rug floor long enough to get a harsh burn, he lets you break for air.
"Ever get fucked over the ledge of a 100-foot story building before?"
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Adorable doodles of Usagi that weren't included in any Sailor Moon media, but rather the final volume of another one of Naoko Takeuchi's works called The Cherry Project!
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