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blkkizzat · 8 months ago

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❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜

part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' dispensary series

⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (completed)

⋙ product description (summary): you can't stop fucking your drug dealer with the big dick but you can't let your reputation be ruined by actually dating him—he'll just have to deal with it—or is it that he will end up dealing with you? ⋙ side effects (tw): cunnilingus, car sex, backshots, riding, dick sucking, sex for drugs, slut reader, reader being a huge bitch lmfao. slightly black girl coded but no descriptors. this is just p1 tw, p2 will have its own lol. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 3.9k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. had to split it up into two parts because i wanted to post on time for 420. barely made it lol!

Plug!Choso who you walked all the way across campus to meet, nervously waiting in the almost always empty parking garage underground level. You don’t even really smoke weed but sorority elections are coming up soon and if you can be the “cool one” to get everyone lit on 420 (as your last plug recently got busted) you could secure a lot more votes. Sure, you were going to an extreme length to win but the last 4 generations of your family have been president of this chapter at your university. You didn't think your mother would even let you back in the house this summer if you didn’t win. So reluctantly, here you are.

Plug!Choso who when he finally pulls up intimidates you with his looks when he rolls down his window as he’s all dark hair, piercings and tattoos. You want to just do the transaction through the window but he tells you to “get in”. You were a new customer and he had to vet you first to make sure you “weren’t 12.”

Plug!Choso who laughs in your face when you angrily slam the door taking offense and yelling at him if he ‘that regardless of your baby face he was fucking blind if he really thought you looked like a 12 year old.’ You turn up your nose at him but quickly are made to feel like an idiot when he clarifies he meant 12 as in the cops. You blush even harder when he says ‘he’d never mistake anyone with tits like yours for being that young.’

Plug!Choso who you only end up hooking up with because your sorority sisters short changed you. How the hell were you supposed to know an ounce was $250!? You ask if he could let you have a deal at $150 as that's what your old dealer Mahito sold it for before he got busted.

“S’cause his shit was weak, princess. Shouldn’ve even been payin’ that much to be real with you. This is that dank shit and if you want it you gotta pay. I ain’t running a charity.”

You ask if you can pay via venmo, cash app, anything but Choso only takes cash.

Panicking as you did not have $100 extra bucks in cash it’s you who suggests if you could you pay it off in a different way.

Plug!Choso isn’t one to get sexual favors for weed as he had bills to pay and a baby brother to take care of, but your cute prissy ass reminds him so much of girls from his high school. The ones who’d only ever looked at him back then with disdain. Who came from stable families, were spoiled rotten and thought anyone who didn’t live their perfect cookie cutter life was trash. Choso wasn’t a virgin but he’d lived a damn near celibate life for the last few years, he could use a little stress release from a lil’ snobby thing like you.

Plug!Choso who you only agreed to give a handjob to and you unbuckled the belt on his tattered black jeans as he sits back and lights a joint. You roll your eyes and steel your nerves with a breath as you pull down his boxers. However the sight of his freed cock immediately has your inner slut going crazy.

How is it that you can’t fit your pink manicured nails completely around his thick shaft?

Why did his dick have to be so pretty fully erect, red tip throbbing as he pusles in your hand when you tease his frenulum with the pad of your finger?

And just what's gotten into you now? It's shameful how you're rubbing your thighs together just from seeing him throw his head back while biting his lip to keep from whimpering. You have his sculpted hard abs trembling from you flicking over the bent barbell of his prince albert piercing.

The silver reflected even in the dim garage lighting as his thick pre collected in drops on the ball of the piercing before dribbling down your hand. You unconsciously wet your lips. You know you only said a hand job but you wanted a taste—badly.

It isn’t long before you are giving into your cravings and talking him fully into your mouth needing a taste of him and forcibly gagging around his girth curious to see how much his cock could have you choking.

Plug!Choso’s eyes flew open and he almost dropped his joint once he felt the hot n’ slick wetness of your velvety tongue slurping up the pre leaking off his piercing and taking him fully into your throat until he was hitting tonsils.

Yet it’s because you are the massive slut that you are, it’s an even shorter amount of time before you pop him out of your mouth, lift your skirt and slide your panties to the side in order to bounce on him raw in the driver's seat. He makes you cum so hard your squirt splashes to drench his pants and even hits his dashboard and steering wheel. He reluctantly has to lift you off him at the last minute so he doesn’t come inside, further soiling you and his car. Choso doesn’t mind though as seeing you getting that messy for him made him hard all over again— and he pulls you into the backseat for round 2 which consists of you face-down ass-up getting the backshots of your fucking life.

Plug!Choso who you quickly start secretly hooking up with on the regular. Seeing as everyone loves how hard his shit hits they send you more frequently to pick it up. You pretend like it's a minor inconvenience but your stomach clinches in anticipation thinking of his fat cock inside of you. Of course, you aren’t disclosing to your sorority sisters how his dick hits even harder than his than his weed. You shiver just thinking of it carving through your guts ruthlessly every time you fuck.

Plug!Choso who you are now secretly texting ‘cowboy’ and ‘eggplant’ emoji whenever you want your doonies beat down— regardless if you are getting weed from him or not that day. However when you are sent to get weed from him, he isn’t even charging you any longer. He tells you to keep it and get a new full set. You always manage to fuck up your acrylics bad when you are with him. Not your fault he fucks you so good you are desperate in the moment to cling to him, the handles, the dashboard— whatever you could get your hands on to grip to keep from loosing your mind as you always end up fucked absolutely dumb.

Plug!Choso who you end up low-key dating but you are still a huge bitch to him in public. Acting like you don't know who he is when you see him. Tsk, you were just begging for him this morning to meet you in the ‘usual spot’ in the near abandoned campus garage lot so he could fuck you. You treated him like he was dirt beneath your shoe whenever you’d see him even though you’d be crying on his cock beneath him just a few hours prior. Choso thinks it’s disrespectful and annoying as fuck but he just deals with it. It's not like he's caught feelings or anything yet.

Plug!Choso who puts up with your shitty attitude and being your dirty little secret as you are the best— and only pussy— he’s had in a while. Not to mention you are always super sweet to his brother Yuji, who adores you. Choso didn’t intend to ever have you meet him but he ended up having Yuji with him one day. He had to pick him up out of the blue as an emergency near the same time he was supposed to pick you up from the nail salon.

Although you had even got a fresh wax at the salon and were ready to show it off, finding Yuji, all of 7 years old, in the backseat was an immediate buzz kill. Initially expecting Choso to tell you that’s his kid, a pang of guilt ran through you when he explained his little brother who he takes care of got sick at school and needed to be picked up right away. You weren’t answering his calls or texts and he didn’t want to leave you hanging without a ride.

You don’t tell Choso you’ve silenced notifications from him (in case one of your sisters were to see his name popup). Instead, you offer to cook Yuji soup when you learn it's only Choso solely taking care of Yuji. Especially after Choso confesses he was just going to pick up a can of chicken noodle and some crackers from the store.

Heart fluttering at how gentle you are with Yuji in contrast to your usual demanding and bitchy nature, Choso curses at himself that he might be falling in love with you. Although he is well aware his feelings would never be reciprocated by you. Nevertheless, as a ‘thank you’ for dinner, after putting Yuji to bed Choso eats you out for 2-hours straight on the sofa. You end up having to stuff your soggy panties in your mouth to keep your cries in and not wake up Yuji. The way Choso is sloppily munching on your pussy has you cumming deliciously back to back to back on his thick pliable tongue.

Plug!Choso who after you end up fucking more at his house, a mile or so away from campus, rather than his car these days. In fact, it isn’t even all about sex anymore as you spend the majority of your time over there helping Yuji with his homework, baking cookies, playing games and movie nights with the two of them.

Once Yuji would go to bed Choso would bring you to the basement to smoke you out before he fucked you out. It’s during one of these smoke sessions though you learn that Choso actually got a full ride scholarship to go to the same university you do now 5 years ago but one quarter into his first year his parents had both died in a tragic accident. Yuji was only 2 then and the thought of losing the only family he had left to foster care was not an option for Choso. When the time came he stepped up to the plate and didn’t think twice about dropping out.

However fast food jobs and grocery store shifts weren’t cutting it. He’d have to spend nearly all day and night away from Yuji just to keep a roof over his head to afford his late-parent’s mortgage. Dealing, although dangerous, was the best option and being the actual genius Choso was, he was smart about it. More guilt fills you always assumed anyone slanging drugs on the street was a burnout who couldn’t cut the real responsibilities of life. Yet Choso already had way more responsibility than anyone his age should have had.

You had sorely misjudged him.

Plug!Choso who realizes sooner than you do the closer the two of you become the harder it is for you to juggle Sorority life and Choso and Yuji— it’s almost as if you are living a double life. Truthfully you are, in a way as you are always sneaking off. Choso wonders what lies you tell your sorority sisters to be gone most weeknight evenings and weekend mornings. The lies of ‘labs' or ‘volunteer work’ wouldn’t likely cut it much longer. When you’re not around, Choso reasons he should probably cut things off with you before the inevitable fall out happens. But he always reconsiders when Yuji kept consistently inquiring as to where his ‘pretty lady girlfriend is’.

Choso doesn’t have the heart to tell Yuji you aren’t his girlfriend yet.

Plug!Choso who starts inviting you to Yuji’s little league games on weekends once Yuji expresses with abundant enthusiasm he wants you to see him play! The little guy, who is not so little for his age, is actually pretty athletic. Adorably every home run he hits he always makes sure to wave to you and Choso in the stands. Grinning widely Yuji blushes at your praise and cheering for him, which makes you just want to cheer harder. Your high school cheerleading experience finally coming in handy again. You go so often that sometimes other parents mistake the two of you for Yuji’s mom and dad. You always hastily respond “I’m just a family friend!”

A family friend. Not Choso's girlfriend.

Plug!Choso whose jaw clenches whenever this happens— not that you ever notice. What the fuck were you doing if you weren’t dating? Yet Choso knew he couldn’t be completely mad at you as even after 3 months he still hadn’t technically asked you to be his girlfriend. Still that fact angers Choso too as he knows he hasn’t because he fears— no he knows— you wouldn’t say yes. Choso picks you up and drops you off blocks away from campus. You also managed to deflect every suggestion for going out on an actual date night on the town when Yuji is over his friend's Megumi or Nobara houses. Also you sure as shit don’t invite him to the many greek life parties you attend (not that he even wanted to go— I mean he would for you. If you'd ask him). Hell, you don’t even follow him back on IG and he knows better than to like or comment on anything other than your stories which goes straight to your DMs.

Plug!Choso knows you have a reputation to protect and how it would look for the tall n’ scary pierced n' tatted emo drug dealer to be the one by your side. Choso eventually resigns himself to live in the shadows of your life for now. Choso would just have to work harder to pay off the house so he could stop dealing and be someone you’d want to show off (even if deep down he feels he will never be good enough).

However this all comes to a boil a few weeks later the morning of the championship game for Yuji’s little league. As their star player Yuji was so excited to be in his first championship and made you pinky promise you would come.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, kiddo!” You lovingly beamed at him.

But you lied.

You did miss it.

Finals and the sorority election week had come up fast out of nowhere and hit you like a whirlwind. As a result you saw little of Choso and Yuji in the days leading up to it. Yet at the end of the week you emerged victorious, both in keeping up your 3.8 GPA and winning the election for sorority president. You were so ecstatic on both accounts that you partied hard the night before Yuji’s big game.

Coincidentally forgetting about it entirely as the next morning was the Annual Greek Council Brunch event to officially inaugurate all new Greek council members across all sororities and frats. As newly elected president and since your sorority was hosting this year it was your job to throw it. It was a huge event that even parents and chapter alumni attended.

Plug!Choso who smoked 3 cigarettes as he waited for you for nearly 40 minutes before he knew he had to leave soon or he’d miss the start of the game too. Deciding to drive by your sorority as a last ditch effort Choso sees red when he spies you on the lawn giggling and flirting with the campus caterers as you direct them to the back of the house. You looked gorgeous, all dolled up, hair done and make-up flawless. The dress you wear looks expensive, something he might even be able to afford to buy you if he wasn’t making triple mortgage payments each month to cut the interest and pay off his home faster. However, he can't deny the baby blue checkered fabric looks great on you. A fact Choso notices the caterer douchebags didn’t miss either as they fall a few steps behind you to check out your plump ass and rib at each other.

Plug!Choso who knows the reasonable thing to do would be to just drive away and avoid any conflict. Although before his mind registers it his body is already flicking his cigarette butt out of the open car door before slamming it shut as he storms across the lawn of your sorority house. Reaching the back of the house Choso was taken back by how grand everything looked. A sea of pristine white tables adorned with arrays of bouquets, fine china and crystal glasses that sparkled divinely in the morning sun. The event was still in setup mode so more flowers, decorations and adornments were being brought in by the second by workers brushing past Choso like he wasn't even there.

In any other scenario a grand display of refinery such as this would have Choso feeling self-conscious and out of place. He is aware as good as anyone else how sorely his dark looks contrast with the peppy and airy vibes of greek life.

However, all that flees out of his mind as soon as he sees you near the DJ booth—now having the nerve to shamelessly flirt with him too.

“Yo, princess.”

Plug!Choso who seems casual from his tone but the look on his face is anything but. You on the other hand looked as if you had seen a ghost as all the color drains from your face.

“Choso!”

You squeaked out a greeting as your head whips around to see who all was around.

Phew! Thankfully it was mostly staff and the greek members who were helping with setup were still inside.

But what the fuck was Choso even doing here?

You started to get pissed as he knew better than to roll up on you like this and today of all days!?

“Come on, let’s go, we're gonna be late.”

He grabs your arm which you quickly snatch back from him giving him an incredulous look as if he just sprouted two more heads.

“What the fuck Choso, you can’t just barge in here like this! Have you lost your mind?! What are you even doing here?!”

You try to keep your voice hushed as you pull him to the side of the DJ booth trying not to draw attention.

“Nah princess, the question is what the fuck are you doing here?”

Irritation was dripping from Choso’s words who clearly didn’t give a single fuck about how loud he was being or the boundaries you’d set around your school life and it made your blood boil. He knew this was a busy week for you and you wouldn’t be around as much, he couldn’t wait a few more days!?

What right did he have to be here right now?

Let alone be this upset with you?

You roll your eyes as you scoff.

“Well as I am the newly elected president of this sorority it's my job to throw this brunch! I’ve had a really long stressful week and this is a really big event for me. My first event even! I have so much–”

“—Fuck! Are you really this clueless?!”

Choso angrily snaps at you and you are visibly startled into silence as his interruption immediately shuts you up.

He’s towering over you now and you’ve never realized before just how much bigger than you he was. His personality was usually so chill and unassuming that it shrunk his overall presence.

Come to think of it you’ve never even seen him angry before, annoyed sure, but he was clearly mad mad now.

“I– Me– My— Goddamn it, do you really think of no one but yourself?!”

The DJ, who had been overhearing your conversation tries to butt-in to white knight for you but is quickly told off by Choso who tells him ‘walk the fuck on while he still had legs that could walk’. The advice which was expeditiously taken as the DJ quickly left the conversation just as fast as he’d entered it.

“Choso– what the—”

Choso doesn’t let you finish, cutting you off again.

Fed up with this, you and whatever twisted situationship you currently had— he needed to say his piece.

“—I’ve been waiting for you for almost an hour, princess. Does your self absorbed lil’ brain even remember why?”

Your own anger is quickly dissipating into confusion as you cannot fathom what in the hell Choso was even talking about. It takes you a few good moments but your eyes widen once you realize.

Oh shit…

“Umm…Y-Yuji’s big game, isn’t today– is it?”

You meekly asked but you already knew the answer.

“Bingo, princess! You’d promised him you’d be there. Do you know how much he’s been looking forward to this? It’s all he’s been talking about. Do you know how crushed he’s going to be if you aren’t there?!”

Shit! Shit! Shit!

You knew balancing seeing Choso and Yuji with your increasingly demanding school life was starting to get more challenging but you didn’t realize you’d fuck up this badly.

You really didn’t want to disappoint Yuji, who at this point felt like your own little brother that you never had —but you’d be prepping for this sorority presidency nearly your entire life!

Your parents were even coming to this!

Shit, which reminds you Choso cannot be here when they show up.

Plug!Choso who knows he’ll have to speed now when he leaves if he wants to make the first pitch of Yuji’s game and makes one last ditch effort to get you to attend, but of course it fails.

“Choso, I– I can’t. I want to... but you know how important this is to me. My family. They will be here soon too I—”

Choso tunes out the rest of your excuses as your mention of ‘my family’ had cut unintentionally deep.

You’d gotten so close to him and Yuji that you did feel like ‘their family’. But you weren’t and it was the foolish hope that you could one day become that Choso selfishly indulged in.

He could deal with the hurt, he was used to life shitting on him but it wasn’t fair to Yuji.

“There he is! That’s him!”

The pussy ass DJ had gone and gotten back up as a group of frat guys in suits rushed over. The commotion was also drawing a few of your sorority sisters and you curse under your breath as a small crowd forms and all eyes draw to you.

“It’s okay guys, he’s clearly lost and is leaving now, right?”

Your voice is bitchy but your eyes are pleading with Choso.

You're pleading with Choso: Not to ruin the event.

Not to be angry with you.

And not to make this situation any worse than what it was.

“Wait— this guy? He’s that burnout dealer, yeah?”

One of the frat guys chime-in and there's laughter and giggles around.

“Oh my god, it is! He's like so obsessed with her. I always see him creeping around.”

One of your sisters adds with a sneer.

“Not a stalker! Ew!”

Another one adds.

“What does this weirdo even want with you!?”

More of your sisters chime in.

Choso doesn’t care though.

He only cares what you think. What you’re going to say.

Your phone dings and you look at it. Shit. Your parent’s just arrived on campus.

You didn’t want to do it this way but you had to end this now.

It was better this way. That’s what you would console yourself with later at least.

“Look—Choso was it? This is a private event and you need to leave.”

You turn to your sisters to explain further. “I tutor his little brother for my volunteer work and he somehow got the crazy idea that I was going to go to some little baseball game with them or whatever.”

You turn back to Choso.

“Well— as you can clearly see. I can’t go. I’m busy and like I said this is a private event so again, you need to leave, understood?”

You turn away not being able to stomach the look on his face like a coward and make up some excuse about checking on the ice sculpture which should have been already placed on one of the center banquet tables.

You know he’s left from the jeers of ‘bye loser!’ ‘fuck outta here freak!’ echo out from the garden.

This was for the best after all….

….right? PART 2

⋙ ©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⋙ lol y/n is a huge bih who doesn't deserve our sweet baby. no worries though she is gonna learn her lesson good in part 2 where she finds out shit ain't so sweet lmfao. lmk if you wanna be tagged in comments/reblogs. eta— omg there were so many errors lmfao see this is what happens when i dont re-read my shit 50x before posting lol. i fixed it! sorry to anyone who read it before lol. ⋙ reblog to smoke on choso's joint but comments and likes are appreciated!

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sleepyparalysisdmon · 2 months ago

Text

Ima

The three times Wonwoo flirted with you, and the one where you finally realize it.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none that I can think of, just some fluff

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.

One

“I was wondering when you’d be in,” you say as the shop door opens. Wonwoo gives a light smile.

“Miss me or something?” He saunters up to the counter. You roll your eyes. He’s in the game shop you manage every week, it seems. He likes to rent games from this shop. It’s a mystery why. You know what he does for work, you don’t live under a rock. He could buy all the games he wants. Still, he comes in to rent a game that you recommend, play it, and return it the next week with a report on what he thought.

“How was it?” You pick up the case he’s slid onto the counter and scan it for the return.

Wonwoo shrugs. “You were right. Could have been better.”

“I’m always right,” you chortle jokingly.

“I believe you,” he muses from across the counter. “What do you have for me this week?”

You pull a case from underneath the counter from the spot that is affectionately known as Wonwoo’s little hiding spot. It even has a little piece of tape on it with his name on it. Sometimes things stay there even if someone else asks for the item. Preferential treatment for your best customer after all. “The sequel. It’s better, I promise.”

He reaches for his pocket, but you wave him off. You don’t need his card to pull up his account anymore. You nearly have the account number memorized anyway. You’re sliding the case across to him when the shop door opens again. There’s a certain demographic that needs more help than others in a store like this, and the middle aged mom looking blankly around the store certainly fits the bill. Wonwoo doesn’t linger so you can help the woman find what she needs.

Two

“Well?” You ask from the back of the store. You don’t have to look at whose come in, you just know.

“You were right, it was better,” Wonwoo voices from the next aisle over before peeking around the corner. “Shipment? Anything good?”

“Yours are already at the front,” you tease.

Wonwoo looks smug. “Say you thought of me as soon as you opened the shipment.”

“Of course, I did,” you laugh, plopping the last of the plushies onto the shelf. “In fact, one of them I only ordered because of you.”

Wonwoo laughs as he takes the empty box from you and trails behind you to the counter. This is another little routine when he visits. He knows where the cardboard boxes go. He even breaks them down and takes them out back to recycling sometimes if you’re swamped. “You love me so much.”

You hum as you put his little stack of things on the counter. You process his return and check out the rentals to him. When you slide them to him, he slides them back. “Put them back in my hiding spot for a bit. I’ll take care of the boxes before I go.”

“Oh, Wonwoo, you don’t have to do that. I can take care of it later. I’m here all day.”

He brushed you off, stepping behind the counter and taking the box cutter from the drawer. “You work alone on Tuesdays and hate to lock up in the middle of the day or leave the store unattended. Just let me run and do it. It’ll take five minutes.”

He’s right. You hate working alone, but none of your part timers have any availability on Tuesdays. The woes of hiring college students with busy class schedules. You let him break down the boxes and take them out back.

When he comes back in, you hand him a plushie on top of his games. He looks like he might fight you on it, but you insist. “You aren’t getting paid for how you help around here. Just take the free plushie, Wonwoo.” He relents, telling you he’ll see you next week.

Three

You’re working in the back the next time Wonwoo comes in. One of your part timers interrupts you while you’re making the schedule. “Wonwoo’s here. What did you have in mind for him this time?” Wonwoo’s one of the store’s favorite customers, not just yours, but the part timers let you handle filling his stack underneath the counter.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” you tell him, saving your work. When you see Wonwoo, you laugh, “Back again already? It’s only been a few days.”

“What can I say? I missed you a little.” Wonwoo laughs.

“What’d you think?” You ask, holding up one of the cases he’s returning.

“Great, actually. Do you have a copy I can buy?” He asks.

You grin, pulling a brand new copy of the game from his little hiding spot. “Do I know you or what?”

“I guess so,” he agreed, grinning. When you scan the rentals you picked for him, he speaks up. “Can you extend the date for those? I’ll have to travel starting next week and they might be late.”

You wave him off. “You know I’ll waive the fees for you. When have you ever been late before?”

“Never. Otherwise, how would I see you?” He laughs, handing you his credit card for the new game. His phone rings as he’s signing the receipt and he quickly excuses himself. The shop door is closed before you pick up the receipt to put it in the register. For whatever reason, the receipt format has a tip line, despite never needing to tip someone at a game store. You’ve told corporate dozens of times that it confuses people, and you wish you’d pushed a little harder because Wonwoo’s left a totally unnecessary tip for the exact price of the plushie you gave him last week. He must have looked on the website to find out how much it cost.

You scoff, stuffing the receipt in the register. You’ll get him back for this somehow.

Four

The next time he comes in, you’re standing on a stool to change a light bulb. He scoffs as his hands come around your calves to steady you. “Why didn’t you let someone taller do this for you?”

“Couldn’t wait. The bulb blew yesterday back here and no one’s in until Wednesday. You can’t even see the shelves without it,” you say, making absolutely no move to get off the stool until the job is done. “How was your trip?”

He hums. “Fine. Paris Fashion Week.”

“Ooo, fancy,” you chuckle. “What? You didn't enjoy one of the most romantic cities in the world?”

You can hear the smile in his voice even though he’s behind you. “Eh. I’ve been before. Plus, you weren’t there.”

“Never been,” you say lightly. “All done!” You clap before trying to climb off the stool. You’re surprised when you’re suddenly in the air and even let out a little squeak. Wonwoo’s hands leave your waist as soon as your feet are back on the ground. “Thanks,” you say weakly.

He looks so fucking casual about it as he shrugs. “Didn’t want you to fall.” You’re abnormally flustered as you turn to go to the counter. You process his returns. It’s an old habit to pop open every case and do a once-over to the disc, even though you know Wonwoo’s never returned anything damaged.

Inside the last case is a slip of paper with some numbers written on it. “Oh, did you leave this in here?” You pick it up and hold it out to him.

He shakes his head. “Oh, no. That’s for you.”

“It’s a phone number,” you say, confused. You’re even more confused when he bites back a grin.

“Yeah, I know. It’s mine.”

“… What?”

He’s still grinning. “I know it’s on my account, but you’ve never used it, so I thought I’d make myself clear.”

“Do you… like me or something?” The words sound weird as they come out of your mouth.

This makes him bark out a loud, slightly exasperated laugh. “Y/N, I flirt with you every single time I come in. It’s really the only reason I come in.”

“Are you serious?” You stutter out.

“Yeah, I am. Not that it was getting me anywhere. I decided for a more direct approach this time. I missed you while I was traveling and having your phone number would have been nice.”

You’re still so baffled at his confession and subsequent amusement that you’re a little robotic. “Oh… okay then.”

“There’s really no pressure, Y/N.” He seems to mean it. He gestures behind the counter. “What do you have for me today?”

“A couple older ones, not sure if you’ve played them before,” you say, totally distracted. He glances at the covers and shrugs.

“I’ll take them,” he says simply. His phone rings and he steps away with an apology. The check out is complete within a few seconds, but you stall out, staring at the pen and post it notes next to the register. He sounds like he’s wrapping up his call, so you rush, scribbling on to the note and stuffing it inside one of the cases. When he approaches the counter again, he looks apologetic. “I’m sorry, I can’t stick around. That was work.” You wave him off and he’s almost out of the door when he turns around. “Really, no pressure, okay?”

You nod, grinning to yourself when the door closes behind him. You stuff the little paper into your pocket and move on with work. Later that night, you’re locking up when you’re phone buzzes. You recognize the number from earlier and it makes you laugh. So does the message.

‘I forgot how good this game is. You’re always right.’

#seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo

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ivy475 · 6 months ago

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Family

#rejects #bill moseley #the devil's rejects #sid haig #sheri moon zombie #Otis Driftwood #otis b driftwood #baby firefly #captain spaulding #cutter #johnny lee johns #vera ellen

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weirdchurchgirl · 2 years ago

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i hope every real estate company/landlord that buys a house built before 1965 and unnecessarily guts the inside to turn it into a greige marble countertop open concept plastic “wood” floor one gas fireplace no crown molding bright white LEDs everywhere stainless steel appliances boring two-tone exterior paint job ripping out all of the foliage on the land zero built-in spaces outside of the kitchen and closets “style” dies slowly and painfully when their time comes or perhaps even prematurely

#txt #like i understand if there’s issues with the house being unoccupied for a long time #like obviously if there’s issues w how it is then it should be fixed #but these ppl take perfectly good beautiful old houses and make them look like shit!!#SHIT!!!!#absolutely no style personality character #everything is cheaply made and will never last even half as long as what came before it #lack of foliage makes you have to use your heat and AC more often #and open concepts are dangerous and rack up an absolutely insane electric bill #they used to have fireplaces in every room in houses like this bc you could just heat that one room!!!!!#it all makes me angry esp knowing i want a very old beautiful home one day but will… never find that #whether it’s out of my monetary abilities or atp all of them have been transformed into these #soulless suburban cookie cutter homes #i’ll have to settle for some cheaply made farmhouse style shit #like i saw a pic of beatrix potters home on here the other day #and literally teared up bc of how much i want smth like that

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sanguineterrain · 5 months ago

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Hiii i love your writing SO much💕, you're so good with the characterization of the boys it's crazy. I was wondering if I could request a second part of your dick x assistant fic?

thanks sm! i surely can deliver a 2nd part of these two :3 pt 2 to this.

dick grayson x gn!rogue!reader. flirting, canon typical violence, reader being a brat teehee! all fics are rb to @sanguinelibrary

****

This coffee shop is packed.

Normally, you'd say 'fuck it' and just go without caffeine. But you've stayed late for three nights in a row, and Bruce requested coffee ten minutes ago.

And because you work for the local billionaire, you have to buy from the expensive, organic, ridiculously priced coffee shop across town.

The cashier looks up. "Next?"

You step forward in relief, opening your mouth to recite the order you memorized a year ago, when a man cuts you off.

Oh, hell no.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem?" you ask, patience finally snapping. The four people behind you also express their anger at the offending cutter.

He turns around, and suddenly you're looking into blue, blue eyes. Dick smiles apologetically.

"Sorry." He turns. "Sorry, everyone! Everyone's coffee is on me."

That soothes the line completely, and a few even clap. You, however, are unamused.

"I've never seen you in this coffee shop," you say, folding your arms as Dick gets out his wallet.

"Really? I'm here all the time," he says easily. He points to you. "I'll order for them as well."

God. He thinks he can just flash his pretty smile and have you eating out of his—

"...And can I get that with no foam? Thank you," Dick says, finishing the order. He pulls out his card. "D'you mind if I pay ahead for everybody here in line?"

The cashier, predictably, is absolutely dazzled by Gotham's pretty prince, their eyes big and awed. They nod as Dick puts four fifty dollar bills in the tip jar.

"I just wanna say that that was so great, what you did for those kids in the hospital last week," the cashier says. "I live in Blüdhaven, and you're definitely our hero. I mean, wow. Between you and me? You outshine your dad, too."

Dick laughs and hands them another fifty. "Well, someone's gotta keep him sharp, right? You have a good day, okay?"

You stand there blankly until someone behind you says, "You gonna move or what?"

Gotham. City of manners.

You leave the line and walk to the pick-up area, where Dick is chatting with another customer. Good God.

"What was that?" you ask, not caring if you're interrupting.

The lady chatting up Dick begins to protest, but Dick quickly soothes her, apologizing profusely. She leaves.

Dick turns to you, cocking his head. "Hi. What was what?"

"I had to order Mr. Wayne's coffee, too. And mine! What did you even order?"

"I got both of yours," Dick says. He holds out a brown pastry bag. "And I got you a white chocolate raspberry muffin."

"I hate those," you lie.

Dick's face falls, crinkling the bag. "Oh. I thought... uh, sorry. Someone said you..."

You're suddenly hyper-aware of what a jerk you're being. What has Dick done to you, besides be a nice guy?

It's just... you know you should be wary. No guy is this nice and polite and pays for coffee and compliments your laptop stickers and laughs at your jokes and doesn't also have a secret. Dick probably goes American Psycho on the weekends, or does pig's blood sacrifices in his basement. Rich people are weirdos.

He did buy you coffee, though. And a muffin.

"Actually. Sorry. I, uh, thought you said something else. I do like those. Thanks." You take the bag.

Dick perks up. "You're welcome."

You eat the muffin, mildly humiliated but extremely hungry.

"Order for Dick?"

The barista slides a cardboard cupholder with three drinks. He smiles at Dick.

"Hey, man. Nice to see ya! Thanks for the save."

Dick waves his hand. "No trouble at all, Darryl. Take care!"

"And how do you know him?" you ask, following Dick to the creamer station. "Or are you going to tell me it's because you're in here all the time even though I've never seen you here once?"

"Okay, you got me," Dick says, smiling sheepishly. "I don't come here. I know that guy 'cause I found his dog. And saved him from a mugging. Nice guy. He's getting married in November."

"He invited you to his wedding?"

"Yeah! Not sure if I can make it, though, which is too bad. They're having it at the Botanical Gardens. I've always wanted to go there."

"What—" You stop, looking down at the cups. One is Dick's iced caramel mocha, one is Bruce's hot black coffee, and the third is your exact order. "How do you know what I order?"

Dick shrugs. "Just noticed when you bring it to work."

You thought Dick couldn't say what he eats for breakfast, much less what you eat.

"Do you stalk me?" you ask.

"What, no! I don't stalk you. I'm just... observant."

"That's exactly what a stalker would say."

"I would never stalk you." Dick raises his right hand. "Scout's honor."

"I doubt you were ever a scout," you mumble, fixing your own drink.

"You're right. I actually got kicked out of Boy Scouts. I wanted to be a Girl Scout 'cause of the cookies. My little brother was a Scout, though. Got an Honor medal. Never let me forget it."

You turn from the counter, suddenly remembering your exasperation. "Mr. Grayson—"

"Dick! Or Dickie, if you prefer. Why won't you call me Dick?"

"Because it's unprofessional," you say frostily, sipping your drink. "You're my boss' son. And I'm not calling you Dickie."

Dick leans against the counter. "But we're friends now, remember?"

"I don't think I ever agreed to that."

"Pretty sure you did! I have an excellent memory."

You sigh. "Just—"

The TV blares loudly, 'Special Report' popping up on screen.

"And in a shocking turn of events, Brendon Sommer was found dead in his apartment this morning, just two days before his trial. D.A. Colson says this is a tragedy but insists that neither he nor the police suspect foul play. Sommer was a key eyewitness to the Maroni case..."

"What the fuck?" you burst.

No. No way. You had him.

Dick squints at the TV. "This doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, no shit! Colson is fucking guilty! That had to come out in the trial!"

He raises his brows. "I... didn't know you were following this case so closely."

Shit. Too much. Dial it back.

You fold your arms. "No, I mean, I'm not. Well, I am, but... it's just that Sommer was an assistant, so it's personal to me. The lowest rungs on the ladder are always getting stuck in the shit."

Dick's eyes turn soft and sympathetic. "Yeah. That's true. He was only trying to protect his boss."

Fat lot of good that did him. Those Fortune 500 hotshots are all the same.

You wonder what Nightwing thinks of all of this. You're sure he's full of righteous fury at Sommer's death, but what good can that do? You were at least trying to stop more little people from getting stepped on.

"I have to go," you say, taking your drink. "I have, uh..."

"Work?" Dick offers.

"Yes. Right. Work." You nod. "Thanks for the... and the... you're really, um—you didn't have to—"

Dick grins. "It's no trouble at all. I'd buy you coffee every day if you'd let me."

Seriously, what is wrong with him?

You can't manage anything but an awkward wave in response, bumping into the shop door on your way out.

You're going to the coffee shop by your apartment next time. You doubt Bruce is lucid enough to know the difference.

****

Beeeeep! Beeeeeep! Beeeeeeeeep!

You wince as the museum alarm goes off. You have maybe two minutes before the cops get here. Inept as they are, you don't want to have to slip out of handcuffs.

Hopefully, he gets here before you...

"I thought stealing diamonds wasn't your thing."

Nightwing lands three feet away from you and the display case with the special ruby on display at the Gotham Museum.

The ruby that's now in your hand.

"It's not. Diamonds are overrated. Rubies, however..."

You toss him the ruby. Nightwing catches it one-handed.

"I don't..." He sighs. "Did you do this to get my attention?"

"Not like I can look you up in the phone book, Wing Ding," you say, strutting past him. "C'mon, we have about a minute before the cops show."

Nightwing grabs your arm. "I don't think so. I have you on two counts of breaking and entering and falsified evidence."

"Wing, baby, you'd have me even if I didn't do all that," you say, patting his arm. "And as much fun as it is to be apprehended by you, I can't play with you tonight. We have serious business."

He presses his lips together, and you watch him fight the battle between doing what's right and what's good.

He finally exhales through his nose and puts the ruby back. Which is fine. The diamond necklace you swiped before he came is safely in your pocket. Just because they're overrated doesn't mean you don't have rent to pay.

"Let's go," he says, stalking out of the museum.

You happily bounce after him. "Oh, Wing, I knew you liked me! Am I your favorite thief with a heart of gold? Be honest. I can tell when you're lying."

"You certainly keep things interesting," he says, leading you up a fire escape and onto a rooftop.

"Why, Wing," you say, skipping behind him. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. I'm choked! I'm touched!"

Nightwing stops and turns, hands on his hips.

"I don't feel good about letting you go, so start talking. What happened with Colson?"

You sober at the mention. "I swear, I don't know. He was supposed to be arrested. I laid it all out."

"You turned him to the cops?"

"Yes. I had no choice. Somebody didn't want to help me bring Colson in."

"The way you were doing it was illegal," Nightwing says.

"Yeah, well, Colson's free and Sommer's dead, so it doesn't really matter, does it?" you snap. "I couldn't even get Colson before killing Sommer."

Nightwing steps forward, frowning. "Hey. His death isn't your fault."

"No? Because I could've done anything to make sure Colson got what he deserves, and they got Sommer anyway."

You take a deep breath. You can't get worked up now. Nightwing is a resource you can use to get Colson.

"Why do you care so much about this case anyway?" he asks.

"Because Sommer gave everything, and he was still disposable. That's how all of us little folk are treated. We're just bricks in the wall."

Nightwing tilts his head. "You're including yourself in this analogy?"

Whoops. You shouldn't be giving personal information away. Dammit. How is he so good at putting your defenses down?

"Well, I do have a life outside of this, Wing."

"Really? I don't," he says, grinning.

"No? Not even a special someone?"

"Hm. No comment."

You try not to deflate at that. "Well, anyway, Colson needs to go down. He can't get away with this."

"The circumstances certainly implicate him. But we have no evidence that he was involved in Sommer's death."

You perk up. "We?"

A sigh. "I suppose we can work together, considering the time you've invested into this case. But I have rules," he says.

You grin. "Sure, Batboy. I'll go slow since it's your first time."

He ignores you. "My first rule is that you can't commit any more crimes."

"What!" you say. "But I'm so good at them!"

"Number two is that we have to do things my way, by the book. We can't rely on illegally-obtained evidence. I will help you with every resource I have, but we have to be good and honest about it."

"You're stifling me already, Golden Boy," you say, spinning around him. "Where's your sense of whimsy and joy?"

"I left it at home. Are we clear?"

You stop and heave a dramatic sigh.

"I guess. Are you really dating someone?"

Nightwing scoffs. "Is this you telling me that you're interested?"

"Well, yes. I can fight, by the way. I'll fight for you, babe."

He smiles. "Eh. They're feisty. They can probably fight better than you."

"Ouch! Who's this challenger? Can they promise a dowry of more than five goats and three cows?"

Nightwing laughs a real laugh. You beam at the sound.

"What would I do with goats and cows?" he asks.

"I dunno. Build a farm, I guess."

"I have to build a farm, too? Sounds like a lot of work."

"Marriage is hard work, Wing!"

"Sorry, my heart belongs to someone else."

"I'll court you, yet. I'm an excellent chef. I'll bring us grilled cheeses next time," you say.

He shakes his head, but his posture is relaxed. "You're unbelievable. Really. Criminal, but..."

"I reject the label of criminal. I prefer 'independent contractor.' Or 'director of joy and whimsy.'"

"Okay, Director. No more breaking into museums," he says.

"But how will I get your attention, O Wise and Beautiful?"

Nightwing gets close, breath fanning your cheek. His hand rests on your back. He tilts his head like he's... like he's gonna—

Your heart stutters.

"You've already got it," he murmurs, tongue resting between his teeth. "Meet me here on Friday. Oh, and..."

Nightwing holds up the diamond necklace you took on a single finger. Your eyes widen.

"How did you—"

He grins. "You wouldn't want these, anyway—they're overrated, remember?" Nightwing shoots his grappling gun to the opposite roof and swings away. "Have a good night!"

You watch as he disappears beyond the skyline. You try to muster anger or regret for getting caught and losing the diamonds, but you can't. If anything's criminal, it's that damn smile of his.

God. You are so screwed.

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #richard grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x yn #nightwing imagine #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fluff #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #nightwing fanfiction #nightwing x gender neutral reader #inbox #blurb

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smoketransformer · 3 months ago

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Frank’s Auto Shop

Frank’s Auto Shop has been in business for forty years and never once has there been an audit, so Frank himself was quite surprised when an auditor walked into his shop.

“Mr. Fuller, my name is Charlie Thompson. I’m with the IRS,” the young man said while setting his brief case down and then pulled out a government issued identification card. The young man must have been right out of college - perhaps about 22 years old and he did not seem the friendliest. He put his card back in business coat and crossed his arms.

Frank huffed and then said, “Call me Frank…or Sir. I’m the boss around here. See the sign out front?”

“Got it, Frank,” Charlie said, “I’ve came to discuss an upcoming audit of your business.”

Frank opened his shop back when he was this auditor’s age. Always ran it by himself. He built it from the ground up and he wasn’t going to let this boy or the Feds take it away from him.

“Why haven’t I been notified of this?” Frank angrily said. Frank was a big man who was bald, but made up for it with a big, bushy goatee that was starting to turn gray.

“A Ms. Buchanan should have called you. If not, I guess this is your notification. Now please, could we sit down? I have to interview you and ask a few question.”

Frank stared at the boy. “Fine. We can go into my office.” Frank motioned and started to walk to the back of his shop. “You’re lucky that it is slow now, Chuck.”

“Please don’t call me Chuck. It’s Charlie, not Chuck,” Charlie corrected him as he followed.

The two of them entered the back office. Charlie immediately noticed the haze and smell of stale smoke. Frank sat behind his desk that was covered with bills. On top of the various pieces of paper sat a large ashtray with a few spent cigar nubs.

“Now, Mr. Fuller…” Charlie started to say.

“Frank or Sir, I told ya,” Frank sternly said.

“Frank, what is your age?” Charlie asked as he pulled out a notepad and pen.

“62,” he mumbled.

“Any plans to retire?” Charlie continued as he was making notes.

“No - can’t. Gotta run this business till I’m dead. I got no savings. Everything is in the business,” Frank spatted.

“No children to take over? Planning on selling it?” Charlie asked while not making any eye contact.

“No and no,” Frank said, “What’s this got to do with anything?”

“You see mister…sorry, Frank…you owe the government a bit of money. $494,078 to be exact. You haven’t paid income taxes,” Charlie spoke up while looking up from his notepad.

“Yes I have!” Frank yelled as he stood up, his face getting red.

“Please, Frank. I’ll explain. Frank Fuller has. Frank’s Auto Shop hasn’t. You never filed as a sole proprietorship. You never submitted the proper forms. Therefore, your business and you are two legally separate entities.

Frank huffed. Running his business was tough; and running it on his own after all these years made it even tougher. It was hard to hire someone who was both auto and business savvy. All Frank knew was cars. Frank looked at the stern look of boy and that was when he had an idea.

He walked around his desk and to a humidor on shelf behind Charlie. He had been saving this for another time, but he figured now would be better than ever given the current circumstances. Frank lifted the lid and picked up a large cigar. “Mind if I smoke?” he asked as he grabbed a cutter and cut the cap of the cigar.

“Actually, I do Frank,” Charlie spoke as he stood up.

Frank placed the cigar in his jaw and brought a torch lighter to the flame and started puffing, “Remember, I’m the boss?” The cigar came to life as smoke started pouring out of Frank’s mouth. Frank took another pull from his cigar, inhaled and looked at Charlie. He exhaled the smoke straight into Charlie’s face. “I think it is time I start asking the questions. Sit.”

Charlie obeyed and sat back down. Charlie was starting to cough and Frank knew that was a good sign. It meant that some of the smoke went into his lungs. This made Frank smile with his fat cigar in his jaw.

Frank sat back into his chair with Charlie staring at him. Frank pulled on his cigar “So Chuck, do you like your job?,” Frank continued while blowing more smoke toward Charlie.

“Yes. And my name is Charlie,” he answered.

“Boy,” Frank blew more smoke, “you be honest with me. And I like Chuck more.”

“No Sir, I don’t. I hate my job. And I do prefer to be called Chuck anyways. I’m Chuck now.”

“That’s what I thought, Chuck. And that is why you are here for a new job? A new life?”

“No Sir, I’m here to…” Chuck stopped as more smoke was blown in his face. “I mean, yes Sir. I wish to become a mechanic. I want a new life.”

“My smoke and I can give you that. Do you know anything about cars, Chuck?” Frank continued his questioning while he enjoyed his cigar. Every time he exhaled, he blew the smoke in Chuck’s face.

“I do. Been working on cars since high school.” Knowledge of cars flooded Chuck’s brain. Charlie knew nothing about cars, but Chuck did.

“Did you go to college, Chuck?”

“No Sir. I didn’t even finish high school. Dropped out at 16.” As knowledge of cars filled his brain, everything he knew about accounting went away. Charlie’s memories about school and college were being replaced by new ones. New ones as Chuck.

“Good - I never finished school either. I thought it was a waste.” Frank was happy his smoke was haltering his soon-to-be employee. “You look like a mechanic. You work out?”

“Some Sir. But trust me, I enjoy my beer too,” Chuck replied. As he said this, his face grew a bit and his neck got a little larger. Frank thought he was starting to look more like a man and not a boy.

“When were you able to grow out your beard?” Frank blew a thick cloud of smoke.

“Started shaving when I was 13. Always been hairy.” As Chuck said those words, a short beard appeared on his face while his hair got shorter, as if the hair on top of his head moved to his face.

“And when did you start going bald, Chuck?”

“Probably around 16. Just embraced it at 18 and shaved it all off.” His beard grew larger and his head was completely bald.

“Well, good thing it suits a mechanic like yourself.”

“Yes Sir. Guess being a mechanic is in my genes.”

“I’d say so.” Frank took a deep inhale and exhaled the largest cloud of smoke toward Chuck. He knew the next questions would make the change permanent. “You like my cigar smoke, Chuck?”

“I do, Sir,” Chuck was breathing the smoke deep into his lungs.

“Do you smoke cigars, Chuck?”

“I do, Sir. Started when I was 16.”

“How’d you start, Chuck?” Frank was constantly exhaling more and more smoke into Chuck’s newly bearded face that will always smell of cigar smoke.

“Don’t you remember? I came here, looking for a job right after I dropped out. I always admired you. Wanted to be just like you. You said you only hire men, not boys. I said I am a man and you handed me a cigar. Told me to prove it and smoke it. Got hooked then and there. Been smoking them ever since,” Chuck said, eyeing Frank’s cigar.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Sorry I was the reason you become a smoker.

“Don’t be sorry, Sir! I love my cigars. I can’t imagine not smoking ever again. If anything, I should be thanking you,” Chuck said.

“Yeah, you should be thanking me,” Frank laughed. “Can’t believe I forgot hiring you after you smoked one of my cigars. Old men like me forget these types of things. Which is why I called you in here. I want you to take over my business when I retire.”

“Really, Sir?” Chuck replied in shock, “I would be honored.” As he said this, his business suit turned into a jumpsuit.

“I mean, you have been a good worker the past few years. You are like a son to me.” Frank stubbed his cigar out in his ashtray. “Just know that my business has some debts that you’d have to take on. Also, I expect to still be on the payroll after you take over. This is my life savings and retirement.”

“Wow, thank you Sir. You are like a father to me as well. I’d be more than happy to keep the family business going for you,” Chuck eagerly replied and stood up to shake his boss’s hand.

“We can hug it out,” Frank pulled Chuck in and hugged him. He noticed Chuck smelling his dirty and smoky coveralls. “Need a cigar, Chuck?”

“I do, Sir. You got me craving one after seeing you smoke. Been a few hours since my last.”

Frank walked to his humidor and pulled out two cigars. He cut them both and handed one to Chuck, who eagerly grabbed the lighter from his coveralls and brought the cigar to life. Chuck took a deep inhale. “Mmm, much needed. Well, better get back to work.” Chuck clenched the cigar in his jaw and said “Thanks for giving me just what I needed.” He then walked out of the smoky office, leaving a trail of smoke behind him.

As soon Chuck left the office, the phone on the desk rang. “Frank,” he answered with his cigar firmly clenched in his teeth.

“Hello Mr. Fuller! This is Laurie Buchanan with the IRS to notify you that an auditor by the name of Charlie Thompson will be stopping by this morning to ask a few questions. Will you be available?”

“Why yes Ms. Buchanan!” Frank exclaimed while taking his cigar out of mouth. “Charlie must have came early. He has actually already left. He said I gave him just what he needed and he is now long gone.”

“Perfect, Mr. Fuller. Do you have any questions?” the woman asked.

“Actually, I am about to retire soon and just hired a new employee who will be taking over the business. Is there a form I need to submit?”

After a lengthy conversation with Ms. Buchanan, Frank walked into the smoke filled shop. He smiled with his cigar. Chuck was working on the engine of a muscle car while smoking away. Frank noticed that Chuck must have already finished his first of many cigars as there was freshly lit one in his jaw. Frank thought Chuck was adapting to his new life perfectly; but to Chuck, this was the life he has ever known.

#gay smoker #gay transformation #new smoker #smoke #smoketransformation #transformation #male tf #identitychange

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