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lagunaseca2013 · 20 days ago

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pecco/luca #14

prompt from here! dearest anon thank u for prompting me. u are the only person who did so that actually means a lot LMAO. struggled profoundly with this which is why it took me over a month and it's 3k long and it's also inexplicably a soulmate au. i hope u enjoy ur library sex!

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QUANTUM ENTANGLEMENT — pecco/luca, 3k

Maybe elbow-deep in the gnarliest of the rat cages hadn’t been the best time to bring up Marc, but, well. Pecco had also been more sleep-deprived than usual after the several all-nighters he’d pulled, trying to finish the new section of his dissertation that Valentino had proposed before he ran out of steam. Neither of them were exactly their best selves. And it wasn’t even their lab.

Pecco was getting paid two hundred euros to clean the cages every three days, while Dr. Stoner and all his—hah— lab rats attended yet another conference. But he wasn’t sure what Valentino’s excuse was, considering he complained pretty regularly about Dr. Stoner getting preferential funding because of STEM privilege. Pecco wasn’t exactly sure how helping out in his lab fit into that equation, and he wasn’t about to ask.

All Pecco had wanted to know, really, was if Vale could still feel him at all times. If the throbbing in Pecco’s skull was ever going to go away, if notoriously pain-averse Valentino had somehow learned to live with the ache.

“Well you see,” Vale had grumbled, scolding #93 when it tried to nip at his fingertips through the gloves as it settled into its new bedding, “I do not think the bonds, they are—” he gestured vaguely, nearly knocking over the stack of ungraded reports piled on Dr. Stoner’s desk, “not so rigid, right? I think they are a bit, allora. . . .” he trailed off, staring somewhere in the middle distance. “I think they are often deceiving.” He’d said, finally, punctuating it with a spritz of the expensive unscented cleaner that Dr. Stoner insisted was the only one that didn’t aggravate his migraines.

“Ah.” Pecco had responded, lamely, staring down at #10 as it slept quietly in its little holding tupperware. “I think I understand.”

The thing is, Pecco doesn't even really know when he figured it out. Maybe he always knew what the deep thrumming in the back of his skull was, what the tight aching feeling in the pit of his stomach meant. Why he was always sort of looking for Luca, regardless of time or place or reality. He doesn’t know why he thought asking Valentino about it would bring any clarity, but well. Luca was still his brother, technically. Even if he had gone down a path Valentino didn’t exactly approve of.

“It’s just a good opportunity,” Franky tells him, when he brings it up again over lunch. He’s hunched miserably over his protein bowl, texting with one hand under the table. For some reason, he thinks they don’t all know it’s Álex Marquez on the other end, when he hides his screen from them and grins all dopily at his messages. Pecco isn’t an idiot, but he isn’t cruel, either, so he says nothing, picking at his own cold chicken.

“Of course, Maro knows that Vale would fund his research until the end of time,” Franky continues, placing his phone facedown on the table. “But Dr. Hernandez already has the grants and the equipment. He’d be stupid not to take Marc’s spot! Plus, they publish all the time, and you know he’s been wanting to get more exposure.”

“Yeah,” Pecco hums, downing the rest of his now-cold espresso and grimacing when the grounds stick to the back of his teeth. “A very good opportunity.”

Pecco is still stewing about it when he shoves their apartment door open with a grunt, three books falling out of his bag in the process. Bez and Cele make no move to help him from where they’re sequestered on the couch, the entire living room littered with pages of Cele’s senior thesis, marked up in what looks like sparkly purple gel pen.

“ Ciao , Pecco,” Cele sighs dejectedly, against Bez’s shoulder.

“ Ciao , my roommate who lives here and pays rent,” Pecco groans, leaving the books in the doorway and making a beeline for the mokapot. He briefly considers suicide, when he finds it unwashed in the sink, then grabs the scrubber brush with a sigh. Bez comes up behind him, a moment later, draping his long arms around Pecco’s waist until he reluctantly leans back into his embrace, closing his eyes so none of the tears he’s been holding in all day leak out.

“What’s the matter with our Pecchino, huh?” Bez asks, pressing a kiss to Pecco’s cheek and then releasing him, leaning back against the counter with a tilt of his head that makes him look just like the puppy he’s been trying to ply Pecco with pictures of, lately. “Did one of Dr. Stoner’s evil rats try to bite you again? You could totally sue him for that, you know, let’s call up Mig and—”

Pecco waves a hand at him with a sigh. “Leave Migno alone, you know he’s been too stressed studying for the Bar. And I’m not going to sue Dr. Stoner, the rats were fine. Allora, one of them did try to bite Vale but he—”

“ Vale? What the hell was Vale doing there?” Bez interrupts him. Behind them, Cele pokes a curious head in the doorway. He’s wearing Bez’s boxers, Pecco notices belatedly. That probably explains the state of the living room, he realizes, resigned.

Pecco shrugs, giving the moka a final rinse. There’s a stubborn burnt patch at the bottom which probably means that Cele was the last person to use it, but it’s the least of his problems right now. Everything feels like burnt espresso to him these days, it’s nothing special in the grand scheme of things. “I don’t know if they’re back together, honestly. They’re probably just fucking again.”

Bez shakes his head with an exaggerated grimace. “I don’t know how Vale manages to bone so many of his colleagues,” he says, pulling Cele in with an arm around his pale neck. “Don’t the faculty meetings get awkward? Surely he could find someone he doesn’t work with to take on a date!”

Against his will, Pecco thinks of the lab coat Valentino had been wearing when Pecco had walked in, the little Australian flag embroidered on the cuff of his sleeve, nearly invisible unless you were looking for it. These days, Dr. Stoner walks around in lab coats with the flag embroidered proudly next to his last name, impossible to miss. Vale must have been wearing an old one. Where he’d found it, Pecco didn’t really want to know.

“I don’t think they’re doing much dating,” he sighs, dumping the espresso powder in and snapping the lid shut with a loud metallic clang.

Cradled in Bez’s arms, Cele bursts into laughter.

Pecco doesn’t know why he was the last to know that Luca was leaving them. The weeks leading up to Luca’s departure had been—euphoric, almost. If he ignored the sense of impending doom, which he had become very good at. They had been spending a truly unreasonable amount of time together that semester because Luca had still been living in the apartment, sharing his car, sleeping, working, eating together.

Pecco had woken up from an involuntary library nap, one day last March, to find one of Luca’s jackets draped over him. He’d moved into the carrel next to Pecco while he was asleep, apparently. Valentino found them slumped over each other, napping on the couch in his office so often that semester, that he’d started calling them i dormiglioni , like they were little kids.

It was easy to ignore, at first, because Pecco had been ignoring it for what was probably years, at that point. Since at least their second year of Laurea , when they’d been assigned partners for a semester-long project in Professor Nieto’s Modern Philosophy class. Pecco had known who he was, of course. Not even the different last names could hide that Luca was Dr. Rossi’s younger brother, quietly accepted into the Physics and Philosophy department an entire year earlier than they usually let undergrads declare.

Luca wasn’t particularly popular, really. Whatever magnetic charm that Valentino, known mostly around campus as il Dottore , walked around with must have come from Graziano, because Luca didn’t attract the same kind of attention everywhere he went, and he’d kept to himself, mostly, their first year. Pecco couldn’t help but notice him. He was much quieter than Valentino, of course, but he was still every bit as beautiful. Pecco had never dreamed that Luca would ever pay him any attention, even after they were assigned partners.

It turned out he was wrong, about Luca, anyway. He was just like Valentino, in all the ways that mattered. It was kind of impressive that people who studied their field so closely could be so blind about it.

Or maybe, Pecco had thought, watching Luca leave, inevitably, after everything—that was the caveat.

Pecco had spent so long ignoring it, that he didn’t understand what he was feeling, the first time Luca intentionally tugged on the bond. He was on the fourth floor of the stacks section of the library in late May, enjoying the sunlight peaking through the skylights while he combed through the shelves. Choking on dust and trying not to make noises every time he encounters a dead spider, on some fruitless mission from Valentino to find the original copy of Bell’s Inequality he swore was hiding around there. Pecco was beginning to suspect he was just trying to get him out of his office for an hour so he could hook up with—whoever it was who’d been leaving ribbed condom wrappers in the Philosophy Lounge trash all year.

Then, all at once, he felt the little ember he’d kept tucked away, all this time, a little shard of glass pressed up against his heart. It was like all of his muscles and tendons, bones and sinew, every part of his body could feel it. Feel him. Luca, reaching through.

In a lot of cultures, soul bonds were likened to strings, in mythology. When Pecco let himself wonder what theirs might feel like, he always pictured something like a ribbon or a cord, their connection loose and free-flowing. When Luca touches their bond for the first time, it feels nothing like that. It doesn’t really feel like anything else, or anything he could describe with words, though his whole job, his whole life, he’s been trying to describe what this moment might feel like. It’s not accurate, but he pictures himself getting struck by lightning through the library skylights, instantly engulfed in flames.

Luca finds him like that, rounding the corner of the H-K shelves, his eyes bright. A strange, manic energy to him that Pecco has never seen before. It’s hot, watching Luca stalk towards him like a predator, every nerve ending in his body lighting up, the closer he gets. Suddenly, Luca is right in front of him, breathing a little heavy, caging Pecco in, against the hard metal of the shelves. If soul ties were visual things, Pecco thinks theirs would probably be a neon red cloud, hazily encompassing them. As it stands, the only proof Pecco has that this is real, that Luca is going to stop pretending he doesn’t know and finally fucking do something about it is the tension he feels flowing through his body. It’s their bond, it’s Luca , wrapped around his chest like a vice.

Pecco’s always imagined their first kiss being a little awkward. Maybe a peck in the back corner of the campus cafe that Cele works at, or tiredly making out on the floor of Luca’s bedroom, where they both prefer to study at home. Something slow, intentional. The weight of the bond unburdened.

There’s nothing slow or soft or sweet about the way Luca kisses him for the first time, almost bruising. His tongue is hot and slick in Pecco’s mouth, brushing against the back of his teeth. Pecco whines into it, helpless, a hand finds purchase on his waist, the other tangling in his hair. He can barely tell if he’s kissing back, so lost in the sensation. He only realizes when Luca pulls away, ducking his head to suck marks onto Pecco’s flushed neck, that he’s been holding his breath.

“ Fuck, Luca ,” he gasps, his hips twitching up involuntarily when Luca finds a pressure point. He’s half hard just from kissing, but Luca’s no better. Pecco can feel the heat of his length straining against his thigh from where Luca had wedged a leg between them. “I need—” he cuts himself off with a hiss when Luca grinds them together.

“Shh, Franci,” Luca whispers, a little meanly. “You don’t want anyone to hear us, right?” Reaching down between them, he pops the button of Pecco’s corduroys with deft fingers. Pecco jolts forward, muffling his moan with the soft collar of Luca’s shirt between his teeth when Luca wraps a calloused palm around his weeping cock and gives it a dry tug. It’s equal parts pleasure and pain, and Pecco can’t help but sigh in relief when Luca pulls back just far enough to spit directly on the leaking tip. His breath catches at the sensation of it, Luca dragging his hand up and down until he’s wet everywhere, saliva and precum dripping down his balls.

“Luca we can’t —” Pecco gasps, when he brushes a blunt, dry fingertip against his hole. His whole body shudders as Luca does it again, circling and stroking until Pecco is clenching down on nothing; he can feel himself soaked everywhere .

Luca drags his fingers down through the stickiness between his thighs, chuckling. “So wet, Franci, like a girl.”

Before Pecco can even react to that, Luca flips them around pressing him against the cold metal of the shelves with a firm grip. His pulse is hammering in his throat and he wonders, absurdly, if Luca can feel it, every erratic beat.

Luca is everywhere on him, all at once. His breath is hot against Pecco’s ear, his fingers digging into his hips, both grounding and overwhelming. The bond thrums between them, heavy, tightening around Pecco’s rib cage. It feels like a separate animal, alive and red and wild . “Tell me now, if you want me to stop,” he murmurs against the back of Pecco’s neck, his lips brushing against his skin, teasing.

Pecco whimpers again, pushing his ass back up against where Luca is hard. “Please.”

Luca pulls away, this time to fumble with his belt. The clink of the metal buckle as he undoes it rings louder than a gunshot in the stillness of the library. Pecco keeps forgetting they’re in public , that any moment someone could walk in and see him bent over the periodicals, squirming as Luca feeds his cock between his slippery thighs. Whimpering as Luca drags achingly slow up against the sensitive skin of his balls. It’s filthy , the wet heat of it, the lewd slide of skin on skin. Luca fucks between his thighs like he doesn’t care if Pecco gets off, like he’s just a means to an end.

His hips stutter, his grip turning bruising on Pecco’s waist, like he’s afraid to let go. With a grunt, muffled against the damp curls at the nape of Pecco’s neck, he spills onto the shelf beneath them. He doesn’t even glance down, uncaring of the carnage. He just flips Pecco around, still panting, eyes blown, looking like he wants to run or maybe sink his teeth into Pecco’s throat.

Instead of softening, instead of giving either of them a breath, Luca crushes their mouths together. The bond between them is electric, fraying, tightening—too much. Pecco feels like he’s being squeezed from the inside out, like something is about to snap in his chest. For a brief moment, he thinks, hysterically, maybe he wants it to.

Luca is still hard against his thigh, still wanting, still taking . His hand snakes into Pecco’s hair, pulling, tugging, keeping him exactly where he wants him.

“Luca, this—” Pecco gasps against his mouth, fingers twitching at Luca’s wrist, nails biting into his skin. “This isn’t—I don’t want. . . .”

He bites down on Pecco’s bottom lip, just enough to make him flinch. “ Tesoro .” His voice is low, almost coaxing. “We don’t have to.”

As if they haven’t already. As if Pecco can’t look down between them and find Bell’s Inequality , covered in the evidence of their desperation.

But the thing is, Pecco still wants . He wants Luca to get him off in here, the AC blowing dust around and the motion sensor lights flickering off every ten minutes. He wants to see Luca’s face when he finishes, this time. He wants Luca to kiss him, gentle, and be there in the morning when he wakes up. It doesn’t feel anything like Pecco imagined, holding Luca in his arms. It feels like the end of something, instead of the beginning.

The bond isn’t soft, like threads of fate weaving them together—it feels like a chokehold, also, like a noose. Luca presses him back against the cold metal shelves like he wants to imprint him there, leave fingerprints on his soul as much as his skin. Pecco wants to do anything in his power to keep Luca here, in this moment, for as long as he possibly can.

“Say it,” Luca murmurs, dragging his lips down Pecco’s jaw. His hand tightens in Pecco’s hair, yanking his head back so their eyes meet. There’s something frantic in his gaze, something uncertain and desperate.

Pecco swallows, pulse jumping under his skin. Heat and hunger and fear tangled together. “I can feel it,” He whispers into Luca’s open mouth.

Really, Pecco had thought, as Luca had sunk to his knees on the faded carpet, pulling Pecco’s pants all the way down with something like reverence , that zing at the base of his spine practically singing when he’d taken Pecco into his mouth. He’d known then, that it was a feeling you could only get when you were physically, mentally, emotionally connected to your soulmate.

It kind of just felt like Luca was running away.

#vale getting put on grunt work duty every time he makes his ex turned situationship a little mad #pecco and vale staring at each other like what were YOU doing at the devils sacrament (casey stoner stem hell rat lab)#all grad school/research endeavors talked about as vaguely as humanly possible due to my pathological fear of grad school #sorry this took over a month anon i was. experiencing revelations and horrors. let's go with that yeah #pecco/luca #fic talk #motogp fic #my first time putting something on ao3 in five years please be nice to me #also my fist time writing smut in even longer so sorry if it doesn't make any sense lmaoooo #quantum entanglement #anon mail #my writing #prompts

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crystal-matrix · 5 months ago

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So does anyone else remember learning about the concept of simple machines in elementary school? Yk, THESE bad boys?

[Image desc.: an info graphic showing examples of the six simple machines, the first row from left to right shows a drawing of a simple axel with wheels on either end, a lever (shown as a seesaw) weighed down on the left by a box, and an inclined plane acting as a ramp with a box at a high point on the incline. The second row from left to right depicts a pulley raising a bucket, a screw inserted into a block, and a wedge is represented by an axe driving wood apart. End image desc. ]

Simple machines on teachengineering.org are explained as "basic devices that help accomplish physical tasks with few or no moving parts."

So anyway, it was basically a baby lesson in physics, in how the amount of work it takes to do a task is calculated by multiplying the force needed by the distance an object had to travel, and how these machines could make things easier by decreasing the amount of work needed. There was a whole bunch of stuff about newton's laws, maybe an educational video or two, but SCREW ALL THAT NOISE because all i cared about was the PROJECTS.

THATS RIGHT BABY, A PROJECT!

The project was to make a functional object that could complete a task of your choosing, and used at least one simple machine (using more was bonus points!) So i, in my current hyperfixation on greek and roman battle tactics as a 9 or 10 year old, (i was already diagnosed with ADHD by this point and i now know i have autism as well) choose to build a catapult.

I, with the help of my father (this was a rare good memory with him), built a 2.5 foot long, 1.5-2 foot tall, wooden catapult. The model i created was essentially a seesaw style lever painted a dusty baby blue, held together by screws and woodglue with some hefty bungie cords (the kind that with hooks on the ends for fastening tarps in place) strung in such a way, that they would stretch when the catapult was armed, held in place using a screw as a peg and a hook-latch.

This created potential energy by putting stress on the elastic cords that would convert into kinetic energy when the latch was released by pulling on a length of cord. In doing this, the lever arm would rapidly tilt the opposite way and launch a small projectile. (i chose marshmallows for all of my demonstrations)

This made the catapult quite loud, wood smacking hard against wood (getting your fingers caught there would absolutely leave them broken), and the recoil made the whole thing jump and topple over on occasion, but it worked well, I successfully launched marshmallows about 20 or nearly even 30 feet by rough estimates at the time. my class demonstration was done outside, where i launched marshmallows at my classmates for them to try to catch and eat. I think i got temporary 'cool kid' status that day.

Then again i did also explain the history of catapults used in war, bio-warfare and a bunch of other crap like that so i definitely also horrified some people by being way too excited about catapulting plague corpses.

#im not a teacher btw #just some stoner sleep deprived 23 year old who loves science and had a kinda fucked up life #im coping somehow by doing this please like my science time /lh #science #physics #childhood #childhood memories #science class #stem #would you still love me if a used a catapult to lauch a plague body through your window? /silly

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heesmiles · 1 month ago

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𝒮TAY 𝐹OR 𝒯HE 𝒲EEKEND l.hs

ᨳ ׄ ׅ ꒰ 6K ꒱⠀ ‎ູㅤ ‎ིྀ ⸺ word count.

𝓅airings ⠀͙ࣳ plug ! stoner ! heeseung ៹ rich ! good girl ! reader ᧁ ; smut ˒ angst ˒ socialites

𝓌arnings ៹ drug use smut parental angst

𝒾n 𝓌hich 𓍼 ׄ ོ money, reputations, social standings. It meant nothing to you. You were tired of living by your parents rules. It was time you had fun, and in what better way than to spend the night with Lee Heeseung, the worst influence around.

𐔌 rain's mic is on ͡꒱ ۫ fun fact; when I wrote my plug!taehyun fic diet pepsi, it was almost heeseung! I couldn't get plug heeseung off my mind so what better way than to write a socialite reader and bad influence heeseung. hope you enjoy!

The chandelier above you drips with golden light, casting fractured reflections on crystal glasses filled with vintage champagne. Laughter, high and practiced, flutters through the grand ballroom, a symphony of wealth and pretense. Your mother’s gloved hand tightens around your wrist, her perfectly lined lips curving in a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “You should’ve worn the Dior,” she murmurs through her teeth, barely moving her lips. To the outside world, it looks like she’s complimenting you, a mother’s affectionate whisper at a grand affair. But you know better.

Your dress—custom-made, designer, expensive beyond reason—is still not enough. The neckline dips too much. The color washes you out. Your posture isn’t graceful enough, your expression not demure enough. Nothing is ever enough. You take a sip of your champagne just to have something to do, just to keep yourself from rolling your eyes. The bubbles fizz on your tongue, and you wish they could dissolve this growing frustration in your chest. Around you, the world moves in careful, deliberate steps—socialites twirling in their designer gowns, men in tailored suits exchanging handshakes worth millions. The whole room smells of money, power, and carefully concealed dissatisfaction.

"You’re slouching," Your mother continues, tapping a manicured nail against your forearm. "And stop fidgeting with your dress. People are watching."

You straighten instinctively, shoulders snapping into place. "Yes, Mother."

Her gaze flickers to your hair, her mouth pressing into a thin line. "I told you to wear it up. It frames your face better."

"I thought this looked more effortless," you reply smoothly, though you know the word effortless does not exist in your mother’s vocabulary. She exhales through her nose, barely suppressing a sigh. "And that shade of lipstick—too bold. You don’t want to look... desperate for attention."

You swallow the sharp retort that rises to your tongue. "Of course." She studies you for a moment longer, waiting—waiting for a mistake, waiting for an excuse to fix you. But you stand there, perfectly composed, playing the role of the good daughter as you always have. Finally, she sighs. "Just—try to be pleasant tonight. Make conversation. Smile. You have an image to uphold."

"Understood," you say, tilting your lips into the kind of polite smile she’s trained you to perfect. Your mother lingers a second longer, as if debating whether or not to find something else to critique. But then a familiar voice calls her name from across the ballroom—one of her actress friends, just as elegant, just as watchful—and she’s whisked away in a blur of silk and champagne.

You exhale, the weight of her presence lifting from your shoulders. But it leaves behind something heavier—something simmering beneath your skin. You drift toward the drink table, fingers curling around the stem of a champagne flute just for something to do. Around you, the night continues in glittering, rehearsed perfection. You watch couples glide across the dance floor, men exchange handshakes that mean millions, and women smile through painted lips while whispering behind jeweled hands.

Then— "God, you look miserable," a voice drawls beside you. You blink, turning just as Sunghoon slides up to the drink table, smirking as he grabs a flute of champagne. His dark hair is swept back effortlessly, his tux perfectly tailored, his presence both sharp and lazy at once.

"More like exhausted," Sakura corrects, appearing on your other side. Her floral perfume lingers in the air as she links her arm through yours, tilting her head toward you. "Though I don’t blame you. Your mother’s been on you all night."

Sunghoon raises a brow. "What was it this time? Your dress? Your posture? Your very existence?" You huff a quiet laugh, swirling the champagne in your glass. "All of the above."

Sakura groans dramatically, leaning her head against your shoulder. "I don’t know how you do it."

"Decades of training," you joke, but there’s an edge to it, something weary beneath the words. Sunghoon clinks his glass against yours, lips curling. "Well, if you’re looking for an escape, I hear the real fun starts once this whole charade winds down." Sakura’s eyes glint mischievously. "And I heard Heeseung is behind it."

Your fingers tighten around your glass. Heeseung. Of course. If anyone knew how to disrupt the delicate balance of these perfect little soirées, it was him. And maybe, for once, you wouldn’t mind being part of the chaos. You barely have time to react before the tension in the room shifts. A ripple, subtle at first, then unmistakable. Conversations falter, gazes flicker toward the grand entrance. A few audible gasps.

Then you see him. Lee Heeseung. And he is a disaster. His suit, likely custom-made and costing more than most people’s yearly salary, is disheveled—his tie loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His dark hair falls messily over his forehead, his pupils blown wide, lips curled into a careless smirk.

Even from here, you can tell—he’s drunk. No, more than that. There’s a slowness to his movements, a glint in his eye that suggests something stronger than alcohol is swimming through his bloodstream. The room goes silent. And then, Heeseung laughs. It’s loud, sharp, entirely inappropriate for the setting. He strides forward, grabs a glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray, and downs it in one go before tossing the empty flute onto the table. The sound of shattering crystal rings through the ballroom.

Someone gasps. His mother’s expression twists into something mortified, his father’s jaw clenches, hands curling into fists. "What the hell is he doing?" Sunghoon mutters, his amusement flickering into something closer to disbelief.

Sakura bites her lip, eyes flicking between you and Heeseung. "This is bad." And it is. Heeseung stumbles forward, arms outstretched. "Why does everyone look so miserable?" His voice rings through the hall, loud and slurred. "We’re at a party, aren’t we?"

No one responds. His father takes a step forward, but Heeseung moves first—he swipes an entire bottle of champagne from the table, popping the cork recklessly. Foam spills onto the pristine marble floor as he grins, tilting the bottle toward the ceiling. "Live a little!" he shouts, spinning, sending golden liquid flying. You hear your mother’s sharp inhale. Your father mutters a curse. Someone calls for security. Heeseung’s parents look furious. Embarrassed. Disgusted.

So do yours. Your mother grips your arm suddenly, nails pressing into your skin. "Don’t you ever go near that boy," she hisses, voice sharp as glass. "Do you understand me?" You should nod. You should say yes, Mother, just like always. But you don’t.

Instead, you watch Heeseung—his reckless grin, the way he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, utterly unbothered by the chaos he’s caused. He looks free. Unhinged, but free. And for the first time in your life, you feel something close to admiration. Your mother’s warning wasn’t a caution. It was an invitation. An idea blooms in your mind, slow and thrilling. If there was a way to defy your parents, to shatter the perfect little image they had built for you—this was it. Lee Heeseung was exactly the kind of mistake you wanted to make.

The tension in the room is suffocating, thick with barely restrained fury. "Heeseung." His father's voice is sharp, slicing through the stunned silence like the edge of a knife. The way the room hangs onto the sound, frozen in anticipation, makes it clear—He is not a man accustomed to being embarrassed. And tonight, his son has humiliated him in front of their entire world.

Heeseung tilts his head lazily, dark eyes glittering as he lifts the champagne bottle in some mock toast. "Father," he drawls, slurring just slightly. "Enough," His father snaps, jaw tight. "You're making a fool of yourself."

Heeseung just smirks. "Isn’t that the family specialty?" Gasps. A few murmurs. His mother covers her mouth, her eyes darting between her son and husband, a silent plea for him to stop—stop before this gets worse, before they become the gossip of every tabloid in the city tomorrow. But it’s too late for that.

"Leave. Now." His father’s voice is final, biting. Heeseung holds his father’s glare for a moment longer before laughing, low and breathless. "Gladly." And then he turns, walking toward the exit without another glance back.

“Never make a fool out of me like that.” Your mother says one more time. She barely waits for your answer before sweeping off toward a cluster of guests, ready to salvage the night with carefully placed smiles and reassurances that everything is under control. But it isn’t. Not for Heeseung. And, you realize as you set down your untouched champagne and slip through the crowd unnoticed—not for you either.

Outside, the night air is crisp against your flushed skin. The estate’s grand driveway is empty aside from a few sleek black cars and a pair of security guards stationed near the entrance. Heeseung is there, pacing, fingers tugging impatiently at the buttons of his suit jacket. "You got kicked out of your own family’s event," you muse, stepping onto the stone path. Heeseung turns sharply at the sound of your voice, his expression flickering from surprise to something unreadable. His eyes sweep over you, like he’s trying to figure out if you’re here to scold him like everyone else.

instead, you just raise a brow. "Impressive." A slow smirk tugs at his lips. "Didn’t know you were a fan of public disgrace."

"I’m a fan of watching my parents squirm," you admit. "And you just gave them an absolute heart attack." Heeseung huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "Glad I could be of service." He tugs his loosened tie off completely, shoving it into his pocket. His eyes find yours again, darker this time. "So? What now? Did you come to lecture me?"

You take a step closer. "No."

“Then?”

You tilt your chin. "Maybe I just wanted to see what happens when the infamous Lee Heeseung self-destructs." Heeseung watches you for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then, suddenly, he steps forward—closer than before, close enough that you can smell the sharpness of expensive cologne beneath the lingering scent of champagne and something warmer, more intoxicating. "You tell me," he murmurs, voice dropping. "What do you think happens next?" Your breath catches.

You should step back. You should say something clever, something teasing. But you don’t. You stay right where you are, the heat of his gaze making your pulse jump. Then, Heeseung leans in, one hand lifting to brush his knuckles against your jaw. It’s barely a touch, but it sets your skin on fire. And then— He kisses you.

It’s slow at first, teasing, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. But when you don’t—when you let out the faintest sigh against his lips—he deepens it. His hands settle on your waist, pulling you flush against him. The world tilts. His lips are warm, insistent, coaxing a response from you that you shouldn’t be so willing to give. But you are. You press closer.

He groans softly against your mouth, fingers tightening on your hips. His lips part, deepening the kiss, making your head spin. His hands roam the expanse of your body, gripping your tits over your dress. A small whine slips past your lips. Heeseung drank up the sound, if getting drunk on your moans was a thing heeseung would be a goner.

Just as quickly as it starts, you force yourself to pull away, your chest rising and falling unevenly. Heeseung watches you, pupils blown, lips slightly swollen. "That wasn’t very ladylike," he murmurs, teasing.

You huff a soft laugh, still catching your breath. "No, it wasn’t."

Heeseung smirks. "I like it." You roll your eyes, but your lips twitch. Then, tilting your head, you say, "You should come over this weekend."

He blinks. "What?"

"My parents will be gone," you say simply. "And I have a feeling you’d enjoy making them furious." Heeseung stares at you for a moment before letting out a low chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. "You’re something else."

You shrug. "So is this a yes?" His smirk is slow, wicked. "Of course, it’s a yes."

The weekend arrives, and with it, the rarest of luxuries—silence. Your parents are gone, swept off to some extravagant retreat with other socialites, leaving the house empty save for the staff, who know better than to question your whereabouts. And now, you’re waiting.

It’s just past sunset when you hear the low rumble of an expensive engine purring up the driveway. You slip out onto the balcony, leaning against the railing just in time to see him step out of a sleek black car. Heeseung. Even in the dimming light, he’s impossible to ignore. He moves with that same lazy confidence, the kind of carelessness that only comes from knowing you have nothing to lose. He’s ditched the usual tux and crisp dress shirts, instead wearing a simple black hoodie, the sleeves pushed up just enough to show the veins along his arms.

He glances up, spotting you instantly. A slow smirk tugs at his lips. "Well, well," he calls. "I was starting to think you set me up." You roll your eyes, pushing off the railing. "And have you show up at my parents’ party just to embarrass me instead? No, thanks." He chuckles, slipping his hands into his pockets as you make your way downstairs to meet him at the door.

Up close, you catch the faint scent of cologne and something sweeter, something earthy that clings to him like a second skin. "You really live in a palace, huh?" Heeseung muses, glancing past you at the massive chandelier overhead, the glossy marble floors stretching into endless hallways. You sigh dramatically. "Tragic, isn’t it?"

He grins. "Devastating."

You cock a brow. "Want a tour, prince charming?" Heeseung steps closer, eyes flickering over your face like he’s trying to decide something. Then, lips curling into that wicked little smirk, he murmurs, "Actually, I was hoping for something a little more fun."

You pause, watching him carefully. "How fun?" He reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out a small, sleek metal case. When he flicks it open, the unmistakable scent of weed drifts between you. You hesitate. You’ve seen people do it before—at parties, whispered about in dimly lit rooms. But you’ve never actually tried it. Your mother would die before letting her perfect little daughter ruin her reputation with something so improper. Which is exactly why you’re tempted.

You meet Heeseung’s gaze, heart drumming against your ribs. "Will you smoke with me?" For a second, he just stares at you. Then, something dark flickers through his expression, a challenge, an invitation. "You’ve never done it before, have you?"

"Does it matter?" Heeseung exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Not really." He pulls out a neatly rolled joint, tucking it between his lips as he searches his pockets for a lighter. When he finds one, the small flame flickers, catching the tip. Smoke curls into the air. He takes a slow drag before exhaling, then holds it out to you. "Here."

You hesitate only a second before taking it. The paper is warm between your fingers. You bring it to your lips, inhaling like you’ve seen in movies—only to immediately choke, coughing as smoke burns your throat. Heeseung laughs, reaching out to steady you. "Okay, yeah, definitely your first time."

You glare at him between coughs. "Shut up." He watches you, amused, before stepping behind you, his chest just barely brushing your back. His fingers skim yours as he takes the joint, then murmurs near your ear, "Here. Let me show you."

He lifts it to his lips, inhaling slow, deep. Then, before you can react, he turns your face toward his— And exhales. The smoke passes from his lips to yours, warm and heady, and before you even realize it, you’re inhaling without choking. The world shifts, something electric crackling between you. Heeseung watches you through lidded eyes, voice lower now. "Better?"

You exhale slowly, letting the smoke drift from your lips. The warmth spreads through you, sinking into your limbs, your chest. Your head feels lighter, the world just a little softer at the edges. You look up at him, smirking lazily. "Not bad." Heeseung grins. "Atta girl."

Heeseung watches you, his smirk lingering as he takes another slow drag, eyes flickering over your face. His gaze is heavy, dark with something unreadable, and when you shift under it, he lets out a quiet chuckle. "You’re cute when you're high," he muses, exhaling smoke into the space between you.

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest only grows. "Shut up." Heeseung tilts his head, considering you. Then, without warning, he reaches out, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. The touch is light, teasing, but it sends a spark straight through you.

"Make me," he murmurs. Your breath catches. The challenge in his voice, the way he’s looking at you—it’s intoxicating, more than the high, more than the rebellion curling in your veins.

So you don’t hesitate. You grab him by the hoodie, pulling him down to you, crashing your lips against his. Heeseung lets out a low sound, surprised at first, before he melts into it, hands immediately gripping your waist, pulling you against him. The kiss is hot, messy, all tongue and teeth and something desperate. You can taste the smoke on his lips, feel the heat radiating off him.

His hands slide up, fingers tracing your spine through the thin fabric of your dress. You shiver at the sensation, your body pressing even closer to his. "Fuck," he mutters against your lips, voice rough. "You’re really doing this, huh?"

You don’t answer. Instead, you nip at his bottom lip, pulling him even deeper into the kiss. He groans, hands tightening on your hips before he spins you, pinning you against the nearest surface—a wall, a table, you don’t even care. "You're playing with fire, sweetheart," he breathes against your neck, his lips ghosting over your skin. you grin, hooking your fingers into the hem of his hoodie, tugging. "Good thing I like the heat." Heeseung laughs, low and wicked, before kissing you again, harder this time, hungrier. And this time, neither of you stop.

Heeseung’s hands find the hem of your dress, pulling up the thin material until you’re under him with only your panties on. Braless. Heeseung shivers above you. With a smirk on his face he shimmeys his pants and boxers down to his ankles, leaving his hoodie still on.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?” He asks with a heavy breath against the skin of your neck. His lips peppered kisses along your jaw as he awaited your answer.

“No, I'm not.” You answer truthfully. Although you weren’t a virgin you also weren’t very experienced either. You’ve only had sex maybe three or four times with your ex boyfriend, Yeonjun.

“Fuck.” Heeseung said with a hiss. His hands found your thighs, roughly spreading them apart to reveal your slit. “Pussy so pretty, baby”. Heeseung grips his cock in his hand, pumping himself a few times before lining his tip at your entrance, slowly moving up and down collecting all of your wetness in his wake.

“God.” He moans, tipping his head back, his eyes screwed shut. It was almost euphoric to see him this way. In such a state of bliss that he has to take second to compose himself before he’s even instead of you yet. You whine impatience clawing at you like a lion in a cage. You needed him to do something, now.

Your hips lifted slightly bumping your heat against his tips to create the slightest amount of friction. A squeal leaves your lips at the sensation, the band in your belly already stretching thin. “Please.” You whispered desperately, lifting your hips up again. “Please, put it in.”

“Stay still.” Heeseung grits out. His hands find your hips gripping them firmly with white knuckles. “You’re killing me sweetheart.”

“Pleaseeee.” Your whines are high pitched begging him to do anything to satiate the need inside of you.

Your whining was not needed any further as finally Heeseung pushed himself in slowly. The stretch of him was a delicious kind of pain. It had you gasping and withering under his touch. Heeseung tried his best to keep his composure as his cock reached unspeakably deep parts inside of you.

“Oh fuck.” He groaned, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. “Fuck, fuck.” Heeseung’s hips began to rock against yours, meeting your skin like a cacophony. Your mouth opened but sound won't come out, the pleasure coursing through your veins almost too much to bear.

“Hee-” You moaned, gripping his arms in your hands. “Don’t stop please.”

Heeseung’s thrusts were harsh but consistent; the constant whack of his hips against yours served as a catalyst to your impending orgasm. “God, you’re so pretty like this.” Heeseung mumbled. “So sweet and tight and mine.” His thrusts were emphasized with each word, your moans getting louder and louder the hard Heeseung’s hips smacked against yours. His hands left bruising marks on your thighs as his grip tightened the closer he was to his orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum sweetheart?” He asked breathlessly. Words failed you, the only response you could muster was a small nod of your head.

“Uh-uh.” Heeseung smirked. “Cum for me.” He hissed.

Your legs shook in his grasp as your orgasm hit like a title wave pulling a gasp from your lips. Your chest heaved as Heeseung soon followed, his groans like a melody in your ears.

“Holy-” Heeseung pants. “Holy fuck.” Blissful.

The night was a blur in a haze of smoke and heat, of whispered names and tangled limbs, of hands exploring, lips trailing, breathless gasps and quiet moans. It was the most fun you had in years. By the time the high fades, the world is different. You're different. You didn’t stop there, round after round in all parts of your house. Until eventually you collapsed onto your bed, bones made of jelly but a smile on your face.

Lying beside him, skin still buzzing, you turn to meet his gaze. Heeseung smirks lazily, reaching out to brush his fingers over your jaw. "Your parents would lose their minds if they knew about this," he muses. You grin, stretching, utterly unapologetic. "Then I guess we’ll just have to do it again."

Heeseung lets out a slow, pleased hum, tugging you back into him. "Careful, sweetheart" he murmurs against your lips. "I might start thinking you're dangerous." You just smile. Let him.

The room is quiet now, save for the distant hum of the city beyond the estate walls. The dim light from the balcony door casts long shadows across the bed, illuminating the lingering mess of discarded clothing and tangled sheets. You stretch lazily, still catching your breath, your body pleasantly sore in a way that feels dangerous—not just because of what happened, but because of what it means.

Beside you, Heeseung lies on his back, one arm draped over his forehead, eyes fixed on the ceiling. His usual smirk is gone, replaced by something unreadable. For a while, neither of you speak. Then, breaking the silence, you sigh, "You’re going to get me into so much trouble."

Heeseung lets out a breathy chuckle, turning his head to look at you. "That’s the plan, sweetheart." You roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. Instead, you prop yourself up on your elbow, studying him. The sharp angles of his jawline, the way his lips part slightly like he’s about to say something but thinks better of it.

"You really don’t care, do you?" you ask after a moment. Heeseung shifts, his expression unreadable. "Care about what?"

"About ruining your reputation. About—" you gesture vaguely, "—this whole socialite world." He scoffs, rolling onto his side to face you. "And why would I? It’s all bullshit, anyway. A game our parents play to convince themselves they’re important."

You purse your lips. "That’s easy for you to say. You’re the one making a mess of it on purpose." Heeseung’s gaze flickers, something darker passing over his features. "Yeah? And what, you actually want to be one of them?" You hesitate. it’s not that simple.

You don’t want this life, not really. But at the same time, you don’t know anything else. You were raised to smile, to be polite, to wear expensive dresses and stand beside your mother like a perfectly curated accessory. You were taught how to impress people, how to make them like you. Even if it meant suffocating in the process. But before you can answer, Heeseung sighs, running a hand through his already-messy hair. "Look," he mutters, "it’s not like I could ever live up to my brother, anyway. So what’s the point?"

You blink. "Your brother?" Heeseung huffs a bitter laugh. "Sunghoon. The perfect son. Ivy League graduate. Dad’s golden boy. Meanwhile, I’m just the fuckup." His jaw clenches. "No matter what I do, I’ll never be him—so why bother trying?"

You watch him carefully. It’s the first time you’ve seen him like this—unguarded. Not the cocky heir who waltzes into parties half-drunk, not the boy who kisses you like he wants to devour you whole, but this. A boy whose whole life has been measured against someone else’s. You know what that feels like. "You don’t have to be him," you say softly.

Heeseung exhales sharply, like he wants to argue. Like he expects you to tell him he should try harder, be better. But when you don’t, when all you do is reach out and trace your fingers over the back of his hand, his expression softens—just a little. "You ever think about running away?" he murmurs.

You tilt your head. "Where would I even go?" Heeseung smirks, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Anywhere. Anywhere but here."

You hum, considering it. "And what? You’d come with me?" Heeseung watches you for a long moment. Then, his lips quirk, slow and lazy. "If you asked me to, yeah." Your heart stutters. You don’t know if he means it. But for now, you let yourself believe he does.

On Saturday night, the house feels different. Maybe it’s because you know your parents aren’t coming home anytime soon. Maybe it’s because Heeseung is still here, lounging on your couch like he belongs, like he isn’t the kind of boy your mother would clutch her pearls over. Or maybe it’s just because, for once, you don’t care.

Dinner is simple—nothing extravagant like the meals your family’s private chef prepares, just something you threw together with whatever you could find in the kitchen. It’s a little burnt, but Heeseung eats it without complaint, grinning at you like you hung the moon when you glare at him for laughing about it. "You tried," he teases, stabbing a piece of overcooked pasta with his fork.

You huff, tossing a balled-up napkin at him. "I hope you choke." Heeseung only laughs, dodging it effortlessly. "That’s not very ladylike, sweetheart"

"Good thing I don’t care about being a lady." His smirk lingers, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. Later, after the dishes are left abandoned in the sink, you decide dinner wasn’t quite enough. You lead Heeseung down the hallway, pausing at a locked cabinet in your father’s private lounge. He watches as you stand on your toes, reaching up to the top shelf, fingers curling around an ornate key hidden behind a row of useless decorative books.

"You would know where they keep the good stuff," Heeseung muses. You flash him a grin, unlocking the cabinet with a satisfying click. "I’ve spent years listening to my parents drone on about how forbidden this is," you murmur, scanning the expensive bottles inside. "So obviously, I know exactly where they hide it."

Heeseung lets out a low chuckle. "Rebellion looks good on you." You don’t answer, too busy pulling out a heavy crystal bottle filled with something dark amber. It smells strong—stronger than whatever cheap liquor you’ve sipped at parties before—but that only makes it more tempting. Back in the living room, you pour two glasses and settle onto the couch beside Heeseung. The television flickers with some movie you aren’t really paying attention to, the low hum of background noise filling the space between you.

it doesn’t take long for the warmth of the liquor to seep into your veins. You’re buzzed, just enough for the world to feel a little softer, the weight of expectation a little lighter. Heeseung stretches beside you, one arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers idly playing with the hem of his hoodie. His eyes are lidded, his usual smirk a little lazier than before. "You know," he muses, tilting his head toward you, "I think I like you like this."

You raise a brow. "Like what?"

His lips curl. "Loosened up. Not so… perfect." You scoff, swirling the liquor in your glass. "I was never perfect. My parents just liked to pretend I was." Heeseung hums, considering you for a long moment. Then, shifting closer, he plucks the half-empty glass from your hand and sets it on the coffee table.

You blink at him. "Hey, I was drinking that—" But before you can finish, his fingers are tipping your chin up, and suddenly, his lips are on yours. This time, there’s no hesitation. The kiss is slow, lazy, the kind of kiss that sinks into your bones and leaves you weightless. He tastes like whiskey and something sweet, something undeniably him. His fingers skim along your jaw, then slide lower, tracing the curve of your throat, your collarbone.

Your breath catches. You don’t stop him when he moves closer, pressing you back against the couch. The warmth from the alcohol has nothing on the heat curling in your stomach, the way his body fits so easily against yours. Heeseung pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, "You sure you want to play this game, sweetheart?" You meet his gaze, breathless, heart drumming wildly against your ribs. And then you smile. "Try me."

The night passes in a haze of warm, lazy laughter and the soft hum of the city outside your window. The room feels small, cozy, and for the first time in a long while, you feel at peace. The alcohol still buzzes in your system, just enough to make the edges of reality blur. You fall asleep beside Heeseung, his arm draped across your waist, his steady breath warm against your skin. The sheets are tangled around both of you, and the sound of his soft snores is oddly comforting.

But peace, it seems, is fleeting. It’s hours later—deep into the early morning—when the sharp, jarring sound of the bedroom door slamming open rips you from your sleep. Your heart stutters as you blink awake, disoriented. The sharp, angry voices that follow the bang are unmistakable. Your parents.

"What is this?!" your mother’s voice shrieks, like an animal in distress. "This is my house! You are not allowed to bring that kind of person under my roof!" Heeseung groggily shifts beside you, his eyes fluttering open. A lazy, mischievous grin spreads across his face when he hears the raised voices.

"That kind of person?" you whisper to him, already sitting up in bed, trying to push the tangled sheets off your legs. You try to keep your voice steady. "What does that mean?" Heeseung stretches, rubbing his eyes as he laughs softly, the sound half-amused, half-bored. "Guess we’ll find out."

The door bursts open again, and there they are—your parents, standing in the doorway, both red-faced with fury. Your mother is glaring at Heeseung, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, while your father stands behind her, trying to maintain his usual composed facade. "You!" your mother hisses, pointing an accusing finger at Heeseung. "Out of my house! Now!"

You can’t even hide the flash of annoyance that crosses your face, but it’s quickly replaced with a strange, rebellious satisfaction. Heeseung, on the other hand, just sits up, completely unaffected. He gives them a lazy wave. "Hey, how’s it going?" His voice is thick with sleep, yet there's an undeniable amusement in it.

"Don’t how’s it going me, you insolent brat!" your father snaps, his voice surprisingly loud. "This is unacceptable. We will not tolerate this kind of behavior in our home."

"Behavior?" Heeseung raises a brow, leaning back against the bed's headboard with a nonchalant air. "I was just hanging out. Relax. No harm done." You see your mother’s face redden even further, and for a moment, she looks like she might explode. But instead, she only steps forward, voice clipped with fury. "You are not welcome here. I want you gone. Immediately."

Heeseung yawns, pushing himself up from the bed in one fluid motion. He stretches, running a hand through his messy hair, still unfazed. "Alright, alright. No need to get dramatic. I’m leaving." He stands, glancing back at you with that same smirk, the kind of smile that makes your pulse race. But just before he steps toward the door, he pauses. Turning back to you, he winks—so casual, so confident—like the chaos surrounding him doesn’t even touch him. "Call me later," he says, his voice low, playful. “Sweetheart.”

With one last glance at your parents, who are now looking like they’re about to burst into flames from sheer rage, Heeseung steps toward the door. "Later," he repeats, his tone filled with mischief. Then, without another word, he’s gone, his footsteps echoing down the hall as he leaves the house. The silence that follows is deafening.

You sit there for a moment, your heart still racing, adrenaline making your head spin. The anger in your mother’s eyes is unmistakable, but there’s something else there, too—a flicker of disbelief. Maybe she’s starting to realize that her perfectly planned world is starting to slip. And maybe, just maybe, you like it that way. "You’re never going near that boy again," your father says through gritted teeth.

You don’t answer. Instead, you slip out from under the covers and stand, your body feeling light, your movements almost carefree. You walk past them without a word, glancing back at the door one last time before heading for the bathroom. Their voices, still shouting, fade into the background as you close the door behind you. In the stillness, it’s easy to forget the weight of expectations, of the gilded cage you’ve lived in.

Because for just a moment, you felt something else—a freedom that no amount of money, no amount of influence, could ever buy. And as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, lips still tingling from Heeseung’s kiss, you realize just how much you want more of it.

`~ { taglist. } ". _ @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @filmnings , @dawngyu , @hyukascampfire , @saejinniestar , @notevenheretbh1 , @hwanghyunjinismybae, @ch4c0nnenh4, @kristynaaah , @simj4k3 , @sangiewife , @hyunj00

#enhypen imagines #lee heeseung imagines #heeseung imagines #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #lee heeseung #heeseung scenarios #heeseung #lee heeseung smut #lee heesung x reader #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smuts #k pop smut #k pop imagines #k pop x reader

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shadowsandsunset · 4 months ago

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Ok, ok, I know this is pedantic, but in Stranger Things fanfictions when Eddie is selling weed and they give absolutely outlandish prices, not just for the 80s but for today too, it makes me laugh and disengage with the narrative.

Below the cut is some information that will help you write about Eddie selling weed. I've been around stoner culture for over 20 years at this point so feel free to ask questions.

Eddie is NOT charging $25 for a joint in 1986. Eddie would not be charging more than a few dollars at most for a joint in 1986 since you could get an ounce for $100 or less back then. An ounce makes about 56 joints of about half gram size. Now blunts, on the other hand, would be a little more expensive as they contain more weed, and you could get about 28 blunts of about a gram each. There are 28.35g in an ounce but most stoners just say 28g to an ounce.

So, he'd charge $2-3 a joint, and $4-5 a blunt, depending on his own markup.

A joint is rolled in white rolling papers, kinda like the thin sheets of a bible or like those oil blotting papers for makeup. Job or Raw are popular brand options.

A blunt is rolled in brown cigarillo paper, sometimes mixed with tobacco but not always. Think Swisher Sweets or Dutch Masters or Zigzag...you can Google those if you need.

Weed, by itself, is usually sold by quarter or half or full ounces but can also be sold by the gram. Usually, it costs just a bit more to buy by the gram because it's more work for the dealer. So, Eddie would have to be somewhat good at math and doing math on the fly. He'd also have a scale to measure it out with.

Weed is sold in a variety of containers, but the most common is cheap sandwich baggies. The 100 for $1 ones. Usually twisted and tied with a knot. You can also find dealers who use shopping bags, jars, paper towels and more depending on what they have on hand. From what we see in the show, Eddie uses cheap sandwich bags.

Eddie also wouldn't be selling high quality weed. He's probably selling "mid" or mid-grade weed. He might on occasion sell dirt/ditch weed, which is lower quality usually with seeds and stems instead of just bud/flower. He would probably not have access to loud/high tier weed. However, Argyle would, being from California, which was at the time, and remains, a stoner's paradise.

Ok, I'm going to end this here but if you have any questions please ask! Accurate fanfiction scratches my ND brain.

#stranger things #eddie munson #not steddie but not not steddie #tw drugs #tw weed #fanfiction #fandom

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noctiva · 22 days ago

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im branching out of my box. view this as a premonition of what’s to come.

Eyeless Jack - General Headcanons

CW: mentions of cannibalism, blood and gore, self-destructive thoughts, mentions of mating cycles, mentions of self-hatred and body dysmorphia

I can not believe I haven’t talked about Jackie poo on this blog yet…. my fellow canadian <3

Visual/Appearance

We’ll get the obvious out of the way, grey skin duh. Cool toned, looking almost blueish in the sunlight. No eyes, constantly leaking a tar-like substance that drips down his cheeks and neck.

Has fangs and claws, both of which, incredibly sharp. He doesn’t ever need a scalpel, his claws are sharp enough to slice open skin like butter. Paired with razor sharp teeth, that can sink into muscle like it’s a rare steak - strong enough to crack bones if he really wants to.

Well groomed, dark brown hair. I’ll talk about this more in a second, but Jack remembers what it was like to be human, and so his appearance is a soft spot for him. Keeping the one thing that still looks human about him well-maintained is very important to him. He usually gets one of the other proxies to cut it.

Pointy ears, that articulate like a cat’s would. Perk up when he’s happy or excited, flatten when he’s pissed or frightened (though, he’s very rarely frightened).

He has a tail!!! Every time someone draws jack without a tail an angel loses their wings. I kid! But for real though, he’s got a tail. Looks like a rat tail with a big tuft of fluffy black fur at the end. Very soft, but also sensitive - so don’t touch it unless you’re close to him.

Tall and big!! Literal monster of a man! I’m talking like, 6’7 without his boots on. He was scrawnier as a human, but the whole ‘getting turned into a demon’ thing was like a cheat code for getting jacked. Big broad shoulders, calves for days, thighs that could split a watermelon in half. (🤤🤤)

I think he’s got a roman nose and an upper bite. His fangs poke out even when his mouth is closed.

Veryyyy clear skin. Like almost in an uncanny way. Kinda looks like a porcelain doll with how unblemished it is.

Wardrobe

Wears almost exclusively dark clothing. The shit that leaks out of his eyes stains everything, including his shirts, and so it got annoying. Nowadays he basically only wears black to try and counteract this issue. (Unless he’s wearing his lab coat!)

Big ol’ hoodies and even baggier jeans (also black). Think… Tech wear meets lazy stoner. Baggy, but in an intentional way. Loves those pants that have a shit ton of straps on them for no reason. He’d totally wear Tripp NYC if he could get his paws on it.

Combat boots at almost all times. He tucks his jeans into them.

Big side bag guy. Has a crossbody bag and a hip bag on him whenever he goes out to hunt. Guess what he keeps in them :)

He’s almost always wearing his mask, unless you’re like really close to him. As I said before, he remembers being a human. He remembers what he used to look like. So, knowing what he looks like now is always jarring, no matter how many years pass. He thinks he must look terrifying, so he’s not too keen to be subjecting his appearance to everyone else.

Again, actually pretty particular about his appearance! So unlike a lot of the other proxies, he hates it when his clothes rip and tear. Will be washing the blood out of them the moment he comes home from a hunt.

Usually prefers to eat shirtless because of this, as a way to try and avoid all that mess.

Personality

Stoic, and analytical.

It’s pretty hard to tell what he’s feeling most of the time, because his mask hides his expressions and his tone doesn’t give much sway.

Very closed off, extremely hesitant to let anyone close. Even the other proxies. He’ll play the role as their doctor, but that’s as far as he’ll really go in terms of relationships with them.

It’s because of two things, and both of them stem from Jack’s distaste towards what he’s become.

1. He doesn’t trust himself. He knows that who are friends, and who are food, but he doesn’t trust that his feral demon brain won’t blur that line from time to time. He likes to keep interactions minimal, to decrease the chance of that ever happening. He’d literally never forgive himself. 2. He doesn’t think he deserves it. He’s a cannibalistic, bloodthirsty demon, and he’s aware of that fact. He doesn’t think a creature such as him needs, nor deserves normal human relationships - because he isn’t human anymore, after all.

An actual sweetie if you do manage to wriggle under his skin.

Soft spoken and so incredibly kind, like some sort of angel trapped in a demon’s body.

He’s a big giver. Extremely selfless. Will willingly put himself in danger to save a friend. It’s not like he’s going to die, and he’s well aware of how to patch himself up if it’s really bad.

In relationships, gets flustered very easily. He was like this when he was human, and it carries over.

Honest to a fault. Will say whatever he’s feeling, whenever he feels it. If it hurts whoever he’s talking to he’ll be incredibly apologetic, but that wont stop him from doing the same thing in the future.

Big listener! Not a huge chatterbug himself, but he’ll sit and listen for as long as you want to talk to him. And, he’ll retain it all. He’s got a great memory.

He does not remember how to speak english. He can understand it, but for some reason his tongue just can’t figure out how to form those words anymore. I personally headcanon that he’s fluent in french, because canada, but I could see him speaking russian too.

Growls when he’s mad and chuffs when he’s happy. Like a tiger <3

General

Has an INSANE sense of smell and hearing. He can smell people from a literal mile away. And if you’re a woman, he can smell it when you’re ovulating <3 His ears can pick up sounds that no one else even thinks about, like the sound of your blood rushing through your veins.

Because of that, he hates it when people smoke. It’s already such a strong smell for people with normal noses, but for him? It’s literally headache inducing. He genuinely can’t stand it. Light up a smoke around him and he’ll be a mile away in a matter of seconds.

Alcohol and drugs don’t affect him. Demon things! Sober for life!

He’s blind! Like completely. In my brain he echolocates like a bat would, and his heightened hearing makes it easy to know who’s approaching him just by the difference in the way their feet hit the ground. His nose will sniff you out before that though.

Obviously, very well versed in the medical field. But he weaponized that knowledge against himself when he was first transformed. Performing experiments on himself. Cutting into his stomach just to time how long it took until the wound closed up completely. Removing his own organs just to see if he could still survive without them.

The results of those experiments were… Not good for his mental health.

Because they made it all too clear, that he was not in fact human any more.

Jack went a little crazy with it for a while. Doing the absolute worst to himself all in hopes that maybe he’d prove himself wrong. Cutting an arm off, leg off, cutting his own damn tongue out - all just to heal every single injury.

He does not have very high self worth. He views himself as a nasty, abomination of nature - because that’s what his experiments proved that he was. Not human, just some sick amalgamation that looked almost like one.

He can’t see himself (because… blind) but what he’s felt under his fingertips tells him all that he needs to know. So, as I said before, he hates taking off his mask. He could only imagine the horrors he’d be subjecting people to if he did.

He knows what he looked like as a human, and so knowing that his body has changed - but not knowing how much exactly, makes his stomach churn on a daily basis. He’ll run his tongue over his sharpened teeth and feel nauseous. Scratch his claws down his arm and nearly be sick right then and there. Feels trapped in a body he knows he wasn’t fit for.

Does not liked to be watched when he eats!! He’s already pretty pissy about this whole ‘being a demon’ thing, so to watch him during his most demonic activities? Yeah he’ll probably cry himself to sleep after.

He always smells like copper and sulfur, no matter what he does.

…He goes through mating cycles. Another thing that he absolutely despises about his new body. And you’ll know when it’s happening, because he will lock himself in his room and not leave until it’s over. (unless you’re his partner 😗)

Gets real feral when he’s on the hunt. Like, the human part of him completely switches off. He is brutal and messy. Doesn’t even retain his medical knowledge when he’s like this. Will tear through an entire abdomen just to get some kidneys even though he could’ve totally just sliced an incision in their lower back.

It’s like, common knowledge not to go anywhere near jack when he’s like this. He will not recognize you. He will tear you to shreds just like any other victim.

Oh, and he’s a very picky eater. Kidneys only! Everything else is yuck to him.

On a lighter note, he likes to knit :)

His claws are long enough that he doesn’t even need knitting needles.

Also a big fan of big brain games. Play chess or scrabble with him if you want him to fall in love.

Does not hunt animals! People only! Big animal guy. It’s like… You know how you feel way worse about a dog dying in a movie than a human? That’s Jack with eating.

Luckily, he only has to eat once a week, so that plenty time for another stupid human to wander into his territory.

I’m gonna headcanon that he purrs! Sue me!

Does not like perfume or cologne because of his sensitive nose. Too strong. Besides, your natural scent is 10x better.

—————————————————————————☆

ok! EJ has finally made an appearance on my blog!

he’s my side piece <3

#creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta smut #eyeless jack smut #eyeless jack #eyeless jack headcanon #eyeless jack hc #crp fandom #crp headcanon #crp

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chlorinecake · 1 year ago

Text

𓂃 watercolor eyes | park wonbin oneshot

⚡︎ pairing: Stoner!Wonbin x Female!Reader | ⚡︎ word count: 7.8k | ⚡︎ genre: mutual pining, college au, smut (⚠︎) | ⚡︎ contains: awkward relationships, an original character + sungchan and shotaro, swearing, drug use/distribution, angst (?), mild dacryphilia, sexual tension mixed with fluff, kissing, unprotected sex while buzzed, heavy petting, oral (m. r)

ON TOP OF countless other obligations in your life, upcoming exams were kicking your anxiety's ass with the biggest fucking boots imaginable.

All you wanted was to take the edge off, and at this point, you didn’t care what it’d take to do that.

Introducing Exhibit A: Your closest friend and roommate, Roxanne, who so conveniently happened to be a junkie.

You brought up your need for a “quick fix” (so to speak) while studying in your dorm together one afternoon. Though, she offered to get you some help from another friend of hers who you’d never met before.

“Wait, you want me to go with you?” You asked in confusion, already prepared to reject Roxanne’s proposal at the idea of personally consulting her drug dealer.

“Yes, you're coming with me… What do you think this is, Kiki’s Delivery Service?”

“No, but… I-"

“Don’t tell me you’re chickening out, ____,” she chuckled, turning the steering wheel as she trailed down a shadowy lane.

“No, I… I want this… I need this even, it’s just that…I don’t really know what to expect…”

“Then don’t expect anything,” she answered, giving you an encouraging smile that came off as more condescending, “Expectations are for pussies anyways.”

“Roxanne, I’ve never even met this guy before,” you pressed, hoping that she’d maybe let you sit outside in the car instead of actually speaking with him.

“Look, I’m close with my dealer, and as I always say, a friend of mine is a friend of yours.”

Cue your internal sigh of submission.

“Okay,” you said, straightening your posture in your seat with a feigned confidence.

“Uhhhh, are you sure with that ‘okay,’ or is it more like an ‘okay, I have more questions’ type of ‘okay’?”

“No,” you clarified, “it means what I said… I’m okay.”

“Okay,” she nodded, before giving you a brief synopsis about this friend of hers: STEM major, weed connoisseur, and art-hoe with a shy guy undercut.

Doesn’t sound anywhere near as daunting as the drug dealers on TV shows appear to be, right?

She pulled up to one of the apartment complexes a few miles from your university. It was one of the lower quality establishments, with the only oddity being how nice the vehicles parked outside the apartment divisions were, a sleek black motorcycle belonging to none other than the mysterious drug smuggler named Wonbin Park.

“Hey, take off your hood, silly, it’s rude,” Roxanne nudged, locking her car from the keys in her pocket more times than necessary.

“But… what if someone sees us?,” you whispered, walking closely beside her.

“Then I’m glad their eyes are working? Hell, I don’t fucking know what they’d want me to tell ‘em,” she shrugged, walking up to the front door.

“So are you acting like a nonchalant loser on purpose, or is this just your way of trying to calm me down?”

Roxanne laughed hysterically at your words, showcasing the sparkly pink gem decorating her upper canine teeth as she patted you on the back.

“We’re just here for weed, babe. That will help calm you down before I can.”

You had almost missed the part where she knocked as you got lost in your head, the front door suddenly opening and basking you both with a sudden warmth, contrasting with the cold evening weather.

“Roxie?,” asked the male from the doorstep that you fought with every bone in your body to avoid making eye contact with.

“Wonie?” Your friend mocked goofily, walking up to hug the boy briefly before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside, “I hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend.”

“Not at all, my place is always open to you and your girlfriends,” he chirped with forced yet gentle enthusiasm.

“Uhhhh, she’s just a friend, considering how we’ve only slept together while clothed before… but thanks anyway!”

“Any time,” he replied confidently, walking up to the sink that was conveniently in his living room before re-lighting the dead bud of the joint he held gracefully between his plump lips, ashes falling from the tip before he inhaled a thick huff.

Some of the ash fell on his lower abdomen, and you were just now realizing that he didn’t have a shirt on.

Good thing you were used to the smell of pot by now, thanks to Roxanne’s inevitable habit of greening out every Friday night.

“So, what brings you ladies in today? I’d hate to break it to you, but I used my last condom just a few hours ago.”

“Yeah, we’re actually here for a different kind of pipe this time,” Roxanne answered, blinking as if trying to communicate with him to ditch the wild language.

“Oh,” he said, doe eyes widening as his mouth hung a little, his bunny teeth shining right back at you.

Stop staring at his mouth.

Stop staring at his mouth-

“I uh… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything,” he smiled softly, and of course you noticed because that’s where your eyes were glued the entire time, so distracted that it startled you when he reached to shake your hand.

“I’m Wonbin, but… you can call me anything you like, really.”

“It’s alright,” you returned, finally coming back to the present, “I’m ____.”

His initially confident demeanor stemmed from his assumption that you were more flamboyant like Roxanne, but he made note to be less vulgar until he could tell you warmed up to him.

Until he properly warmed up to you.

“So uh, yeah, do you want the usual, or were you thinking to try something new?” Wonbin asked casually as he leaned on the back of the sofa.

“Hmm,” Roxie hummed in thought, “yeah, my usual’s good. Just lay off the stronger stuff in the mix, though. It’s her first time.”

Something about what she said made Wonbin smile, wide and excited, peeking at you through his shaggy bangs with zero intent of hiding it.

Was he… flirting with you?

“Well, it’s my pleasure to be your first then,” he winked, getting up from the couch and heading to another room on his flat.

“You two kittens just wait here and I’ll be back with your stuff in a minute,” he claimed, which actually ended up being around an 8 minute wait while you and Roxanne went on and on about something you can’t even remember now.

The smile evaporated from Roxanne’s face as Wonbin returned to the living room while reciting the order. “You’ve got two ounces of-”

“I know the recipe, moron. You might scare my friend away if you say it out loud…,” she joked, feigning a pout as she hugged your shoulder, “so how much do you want for it, candy man?”

“It’s on the house this time,” Wonbin said, “so long as you bring me dinner tonight.”

“Fucking fat ass,” she spat, “what’re you craving?”

“Something warm,” he replied almost immediately, “with seasoned meat and a sauce… Maybe some rice, too.”

“Gotcha,” Roxie chirped as she pushed off of her knees to stand up.

Wonbin walked up to hand her the goody bag with such politeness, almost in the way that a child would give something to his big sister.

“Cool. I like eating around 7 o’clock, so you know when and where to find me.”

“Yes, through your stomach and all the way up to your greedy little heart.”

“Mhm,” he said with a satisfied hum, taking Roxanne’s spot on the couch as she walked towards the door. You and Wonbin were now sitting next to each other, his arms spread out on the back of the couch in a relaxed manner.

“Uhm, ____?”

“Oh, right! Sorry… I didn’t know we were finished,” you stammered, getting up from the couch to meet Roxanne at the door.

“Yeah, took him long enough,” she rolled her eyes, “I was starting to think he wanted us to spend the night…”

“Alright, get out of my apartment already,” he said playfully, waving a hand as if shooing you two, “and make sure to secure the bottom lock for me, I don’t feel like getting back up yet.”

“Whatever.”

Slam.

The door was closed, 50% locked, and you two were heading back down the staircase, cold air greeting you once again before you both got back in the car, driving back to your dorm room to drop off the drugs first, and then to the grocery store…

… to buy a bag of rice and a fresh pack of chicken.

“WHAT’S THAT NOISE?,” Roxanne asked with animatedly furrowed eyebrows, holding the grocery bag you two had packed Wonbin’s “dinner” in.

You ended up making a chicken roast with carrots, potatoes, gravy, and steamed rice like he asked.

“Here, hold this,” Roxanne mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear before she dropped the bag, your reflects luckily kicking in fast enough for you to catch it before the glass container could hit the concrete stair well.

“It’s as cold as a snowman’s grave out here, Wonie, open up!,” She yelled while banging on the front door, the little dream catcher that hung on the inner side jingling with her forceful hits, “Hellooooo?”

“You’re like Doordash but with the temper of FedEx,” you heard a deep voice say from behind the walls.

“But I only charge herbal fees for my services,” she added while crossing her arms.

Creek.

The door slung open, Wonbin’s muscular arms framing the entrance with a fed up look plastered on his face.

There were two people sitting behind him on the couch playing video games. A violent game, you’d assume, given the sporadic and sharp flashes of light that filled the room.

“Is there some kind of a secret password now or something?,” Roxanne asked impatiently, not as entertained my the view of Wonbin’s still shirtless body like you were.

“Oh, right… come on in ladies,” he said with a feigned smile, extending a hand to welcome you two back in, “hope you brought enough food, because I have guests.”

You followed Roxanne and Wonbin to the kitchen, where you placed the steaming bag of food on the counter before taking out the containers. That’s when Roxanne started grabbing dishes from the cabinet.

The glass plates clinked behind you as you went to search for a serving spoon in the drawer. “Hey… where are the spoons and forks?,” you asked while still looking through one of his kitchen drawers before Wonbin suddenly tapped you on the shoulder.

“I uhm… I keep the utensils in here,” he smiled shyly, just as he reached for the overhead counter to grab the silverware he kept in a box. Your breath got caught in your chest as you felt his hips nearly fuse with yours in the moment. Luckily, he couldn’t see how flustered you appeared underneath his shadow.

“Gimme that,” Roxanne giggled, snatching the box from him and taking out two large ladles, one for the rice and another for the roast.

“Gosh, that smells amazing! Can you put cheese on mine, pretty please?,” you heard one of the boys ask from the couch, peeking over his shoulder with soft eyes.

“Yes, Taro, I can put some cheese on it for you… even though I think it’s weird,” Roxanne smiled.

“Ahh, thanks man. Oh- and who’s the new girl?” He went on, placing the controller down as he was no longer interested in playing.

“Just a friend in need of a good time—” Wonbin answered, which shocked you to say the least, “—so be nice, Sungchan.”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?,” The taller boy pitched in, “but does she even talk?”

The room went quiet for a moment, the only sound being Sungchan’s clicks from the remote controller before he got gunned down by a random player.

“Dammit, Shotaro! Why’d you stop playing? Now we’re tied with the other team!!”

“Too bad, so sad, bro. I’m hungry,” he chirped, getting up from the couch to help you bring the plates to everyone.

“Woah, who’s the big plate for?” Shotaro asked with widened eyes.

“Me and Sungchan,” Roxanne said with a satisfied smile, “we’re sharing.”

“Oh… you didn’t tell me you and Sungchan were on good terms now,” you said, breaking your awkward streak of silence, just now recognizing the taller boys face from Roxanne’s phone.

She always talked about Sungchan and his “big stupid dick,” as she liked calling it.

The pair stopped being cool with each other for reasons you don’t really remember anymore, but you’d take her sudden affection towards him over the violence you witnessed during one of her texting fits the other night.

“Shhh,” she giggled, meeting Sungchan on the couch before sitting on his lap, “I hope you don’t mind me feeding you in front of your little friends… unless that makes you shy,” she pouted.

All he did was open his mouth in response, savoring the taste of the first spoon she fed him.

It was a sickeningly cute sight to be honest.

“Sick and twisted,” Shotaro said as if reading your mind.

“Cry about it,” Sungchan joked between a mouth full of saucy rice, heart swelling from the way Roxanne cooed at him.

You and Wonbin were just now making it to the living room after getting some napkins for everyone. There was room left for the two of you on the couch thanks to Roxie sitting on Sungchan’s lap, but that meant you and Wonbin would be sandwiched together in the middle.

Great.

“Come on guys, take a seat,” Roxie said before taking a bite of the food, her teeth grazing the metal fork with a loud scrap.

“God, I hate when you do that,” Sungchan sighed, tickling her sides as she laughed uncontrollably.

“Stop that, asshole, before I drop this food everywhere!”

“That’d be a shame, this chicken is so good,” Wonbin hummed with a nod, stuffing his cheeks with more of the gravy.

“____ made it,” Roxie pitched, giving you a look.

Despite how hard you tried to fight it, you were started to feel pretty awkward.

You knew it had a lot to do with Wonbin, thanks to his cripplingly annoying quirk to not put a damn shirt on.

You did eventually warm up to everyone, even pitching in on some of Sungchan’s dad jokes.

Though, the stack of empty dishes in the center of the living room table seemed more alive than your spirits right now.

The inevitable tiredness that came with staying up late without a phone in your hand started to kick in.

“Hey, I’m gonna go wash up these dishes real quick,” Wonbin said, glancing your way for reasons you almost couldn’t process between the loud laughter of Shotaro and Roxie over whatever dirty joke Sungchan told about SpongeBob and Patrick.

Did he want you to come with him? Alone?

Yes.

By now, Wonbin was no longer in the living room, having walked to the kitchen sink where he proceeded to run soapy dish water.

The scent of lemon wafted through the dimly lit space as you stepped beside him to get the dish towel.

“Sorry,” you said nervously, noticing the way he jumped as your hand grazed his arm slightly.

“It’s alright, you just surprised me,” Wonbin smiled, drying his hands before walking over to the other side of the counter, opening a plastic bag filled with what appeared to be blunt wraps and another bag filled with fluffy green.

“You just leave that stuff out on your counter?,” You asked, voice kind of quiet over the running water.

“Mhm…,” he started, “it’s not like the cops are just gonna raid my house randomly… unless… you were to say something,” he winked, putting a filler along the inside of the wrap before sprinkling in some herb, then tucking it tightly.

“Your secrets safe with me,” you said, the faucet squeaking as you turned the water off.

“____.”

“Yes?” You asked in confusion almost… he was already starting to use your name so normally.

“Pass me that lighter from over there,” he pointed before sticking his tongue out, licking the inner side on the blunt wrap to seal it.

His pretty tongue glistened underneath the kitchen lights, captivating you once again.

Fuck, stop staring, you internally swore at yourself.

He put the blunt between his lips, waiting for you to light the tip. “Stop moving, silly,” you giggled, holding his face in place with your other hand to keep him still as he playfully moved his head around to give you a hard time.

A tiny giggle erupted from his throat, too, making your smile linger for a little longer before he bid his thanks, inhaling a huff of the smoke and exhaling it through his nose.

“Hmmm,” he hummed as he cleared his throat. By now you were leaning against the sink with no intention of washing the dishes any time soon. No intention of leaving the kitchen, either.

“C’mere,” he offered, reaching for your chin in the same way you did to him earlier before inching closer to your face.

“Wonbin-”

“Just part your lips for me, okay?” He asked in a light voice, “I want you to try it with me.”

You nodded at his words, hesitantly parting your lips as he slowly set the blunt between the opening you allowed for him.

“Okay now seal your lips,” he said, licking his own, “and inhale… slowly.”

You obeyed his words, taking a steady breath in as the warm and cloudy smoke filled your mouth… then your stomach… then your senses.

“Oh, shit,” you cursed, coughing at the way the smoke hit the back of your throat, to which Wonbin only laughed at your reaction.

“Good job, newbie,” he teased, running you a glass of water before passing it to you, your teary eyes staring back at him in a mix of embarrassment, regret, and intrigue.

“How was hitting it,” he asked, pearly eyes staring back at you.

“Just as bad as I thought,” you admitted.

“Yeah… they effects will start kicking in pretty fast, too,” he chuckled, proceeding to take a huff from the same blunt. “But,” he started, voice falling to an alto, “you know that wasn’t free, right?”

“Excuse me?” You asked, watching as he lazily cradled the joint in his two fingers.

“I only do favors for Roxie because we’re chill like that…,” he paused, biting his lip derisively as he tilted his head, “I hardly know you, though.”

You didn’t even bother checking your pockets because you knew you came empty handed.

“Aww, what is it, baby?,” he cooed, turning your chin to face him again as he took another huff from the joint.

“I didn’t bring any cash with me, unfortunately,” you replied with a halfhearted expression, already feeling yourself get dizzy.

He noticed the way you began to tear up even more from the smoke he was now gently blowing in your face.

“You’re eyes look pretty right now,” he smiled, staring way harder than he should’ve, “how do you feel?”

All of a sudden your core starting to heat up, making your legs feel as though you were merely hovering over the floor. You didn’t feel grounded anymore because you were overcome with a feeling of light.

“A little warm,” you started dryly, “but like… numb and euphoric at the same time.”

“In here?” He asked, placing a hand on your upper stomach, resting dangerously close to your tits.

“No…. It’s uh… a bit lower,” you said, reaching for his wrist before pulling his hand away from you.

That’s when you caught a glimpse of a colorful splash decorating his wrist. “That’s pretty,” you smiled, adoring the tattoo from afar.

“You think so?” He asked sarcastically before whispering in your ear, “too bad compliments won’t pay my bills.”

You sighed at his words, watching as he braced his body weight on the counter before your right hand found a mind of it’s own, reaching out to trace a line up his defined abdomen.

“Then allow me to repay you in another way,” you offered, poking his flesh with your nail a bit, “you like my cooking, don’t you?”

“Very much so, yes. But you could try pleasing me somewhere else… ‘A bit lower,’ like you said,” he whispered seductively, eyes in a daze as he guided your hand by your delicate wrist to the center of his belt buckle, a line of hair leading to the bulge buried behind his baggy jeans.

A thick vein trailed from his thumb to his forearm before his grip left your wrist.

“Wanna take a closer look?” He offered, drawing your attention back to the colorful spot on his skin even though your first mind thought he was talking about something naughtier.

“Sure,” you answered quietly, taking his hand again to examine the design, “a butterfly?”

“A moth, actually… it’s a little more masculine if you ask me,” he added, the shadow of a proud smile ghosting over his lips.

“But it has watercolored eyes,” you pointed out.

“True… So it’s like.. more ambiguous I guess?”

“Maybe… or it could just be a beautiful man,” you voiced, stroking over his skin with the pad of your thumb.

You liked this.

The look of his skin, but more so the way it felt.

The way touching him made you feel.

“Uhmmmm, guys?,” Shotaro cried out from the living room, the energy in his voice breaking the stillness of the moment, “I’m pretty sure Sungchan and Roxie are about to start fucking each other in a few seconds, and I could use a little help in here!”

You and Wonbin made eye contact at Shotaro’s words, the same thought filling both your heads:

“What?”

“Just get in here, quickly! They’re taking each others clothes off!!!”

“FUCK, MY STOMACH still hurts like a bitch from laughing so hard yesterday night,” Roxie sighed, cheeks a flushed hue either from the three shots of brandy she just guzzled or the three comforters she was wrapped in on her side of your shared room.

“Yeah… I had a great time hanging out with everyone,” you said, only half-present as other thoughts floated around in your mind.

Thoughts about when you would get to see Wonbin again?

What you two would even do?

How Roxanne would react if she knew Wonbin had been stuck in your mind like gum on a-

“What the hell are you thinking about?”

Oh shit.

“Uhm… Nothing, why?”

“It’s gotta be something,” Roxie pressed, staring at you from across the room through her false eyelashes, “you were moaning in your sleep last night with that same look on your face.”

Wow. She was quite a fast talker for someone so tipsy.

“I was?”

“Mhm,” she smirked cheekily, trailing a finger along the knitted seam of her bed sheet.

“Tell me who you were thinking about… I’ll know if you’re lying, too,” she pressed.

“I was just… gosh, why is that making me so flustered,” you sighed, hiding your face in your pillows.

“C’mon, spit it out, ____!”

“I was thinking about Wonie, okay?,” you finally admitted, hoping it would make her shut up.

“Hmm…,” she started with a satisfied smirk, “you’ve already starting calling him by a nickname, I see… what’s up with that?”

“Nothing at all,” you smiled aggressively, watching as she spread herself out on the mattress like a star fish, “would you like me to call Sungchan over to keep you company while I’m out?”

“He’s already on his way over, silly,” she smiled, flexing her fingers around nothing, “wait, where are you going, anyway?”

“Nowhere special… probably just gonna talk a walk around campus. But don’t worry, I’ll wait for your boyfriend to get here before I leave.”

She pouted at your words, lower lip poking out like a baby, “Aww… stupid… big dick Sungie’s my boyfriend… ehehe…”

SUNGCHAN SHOWED UP shortly after you managed to get Roxanne back to bed. Praying that they wouldn’t end up fucking in your bedroom while you were gone, you put on a jacket with hopes of taking that walk to clear your head, even though now you simply hit a joint to calm your nerves.

That’s when you heard a pair of footsteps approaching from outside your door, just as you were about to zip up your winter boots.

Knock, knock, knock.

A a warm feeling erupted in your stomach, making your fingers freeze at your ankles.

Standing up to peek through the door-hole, you saw Wonbin’s plump lips first, before his bright brown eyes stared back at you.

Shit, why was he here?

“Hey, I can hear you breathing from behind the door… well, whoever you are,” he giggled, which made you giggle a bit too.

There’s no way you were gonna get out of this now, but you still counted down from ten before opening the door.

“Hi,” you smiled, letting him in, “don’t know how you got on campus, let alone to my dorm room, but okay.”

“I’m friends with Roxie, remember?”

“Yes, but I don’t remember you visiting here before… like, ever.”

Even if he had, it’s not like you’d be able to forget a face or presence like his.

“Nice shirt, by the way,” you teased, poking him in the stomach to which he smiled.

That terribly cute smile of his.

“Yeah I uh… wear them sometimes,” he replied, adjusting the beanie he wore before speaking again, “Where is she, anyway?”

“Pretending to be asleep so I can cuddle with her while she sucks on me… well… not there but… nevermind,” Sungchan interupted, walking from the room with now disheveled hair.

“Hell, I left for like three seconds, what happened,” you asked, observing the fresh purple bruise on Sungchan’s neck.

“Roxie gets unbelievably horny whenever she’s drunk for some reason, and I refuse to do anything with her when half of her mind is on fucking mars,” he sighed, going to the fridge and pulling out a can of soda.

“She’s lucky I let her do this much… Wait- I thought you said you weren’t coming?” Sungchan said to Wonbin with a suspicious look.

So Wonbin was invited to your place. How fun.

“Ahh, I changed my mind out of boredom...”

“Right,” Sungchan nodded while walking to the front door, “I’ve gotta go get a lighter from my truck, but I’ll be back if Roxie asks for me.”

“Hey uh, me and ____ can go get it for you if you want,” Wonbin offered, flashing you a look.

“Really, I mean I parked pretty far away, but-”

“It’s fine, really, I saw where your truck on my way here.“

“____?” Sungchan said your name as if searching for your approval, to which you nodded which a humble, “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“Alright then, go ahead. But take your time though so you don’t slip and break your asses…”

WONBIN LOOKED IN the roof compartment of Sungchan’s truck, just as the lighter fell down, slipping between the small crack in the seat.

“Shit,” he cursed upon trying to reach for it, “my hands too big to get it.”

“Hey, I can try getting it for you,” you offered, watching as he made room for you to take his place in the vehicle.

The drawstring of your underwear clinging to your hips as your shirt fell down your waist with gravity.

“Are you wearing a thong?” Wonbin asked, cold index finger hooking with the thin strap of your panties before pulling back and releasing it with a snap.

“Ahh, what the hell, Won!,” You yelped, retreating from the seat to swat his hands from you, “you’re supposed to be helping me!”

“No, we’re supposed to be helping Sungchan. Now get back to work,” he order you playfully, pointing back down to where the lighter fell.

You shook your head, bending back over in an attempt to retrieve the lighter once again.

He was only teasing you because he wanted to see more of your personality.

He couldn’t say that things were moving fast between you thanks to the inevitably awkward grounds your first impression of each other was cultivated upon, but he still wanted to get past the shy stage.

Skip all of the a baby steps and just start running with you.

Weakened grunts fell from your lips as you desperately fished for the lighter, your hips looking a mere second from bursting through your tight jeans given the position you were in.

“Shit,” Wonbin cursed under his breath, feeling a sense of warmth grow on his cheeks as he darted his eyes away from you.

“Oh,” you said with a muffled sounding voice.

“Um, y-yeah? What’s up?” He stuttered, still looking off into the distance.

“I’ve got the lighter… And some spare change,” you chirped, clasping the findings in your hand before reaching a foot down cautiously.

“Isn’t that stealing?” Wonbin teased, finally looking back to only see your foot slipping on the wet condensation from the truck’s running board.

“____, watch your step!” He called out with a slightly raised voice, his hands finding your waist to protect your fall, which only led to you both tumbling down together.

A strained groan erupted from Wonbin’s throat as his back hit the cold hard ground first, your body weight falling onto his center as your hands hit the gravel, slightly scuffing your skin.

You hadn’t even realized that your eyes were closed the entire time until you finally opened them, the coins you held being scattered about as Wonbin’s wide bunny eyes scanned you with shock.

His arms framed his head, nose a little red from the weather and a sprinkle of snowflakes dusting his black beanie.

“Are you…are you okay?,” he started, voice trailing off as it finally clicked in his mind that you were straddling him on the ground, essentially in public.

He couldn’t pin a finger on what it was about you that made him feel all shy like this, especially whenever he wasn’t buzzed.

“I-I’m… uh… I’m fine,” you stuttered, freeing him of your body weight and extending a hand to help him up.

“Thank you,” he huffed, a puff of cold air escaping his mouth before circling around your warm bodies, “I told you to watch your step….”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that those stupid coins distracted me,” you shivered, just now feeling the effects of the weather as goosebumps sprouted on your skin, “At least I got the lighter, though!”

Wonbin chuckled, both at your enthusiastic words and the uncanniness of this moment, taking off his beanie and adjusting it over your head before closing the door to Sungchan’s truck, pulling you close to him by the shoulder.

“Alright… let’s get back inside before we both freeze to death.”

AFTER GOING BACK inside, Sungchan had somehow managed to get Roxie out of bed, the four of you sitting on the couch while watching a random movie till midnight.

It all brought you a strange sense of déjà vu. You and Wonbin sitting awkwardly together while Roxie and her Sungchan sat like Siamese twins. The only thing missing, aside from some good home cooked food, was Shotaro’s infectious smile and a recreational drug in your system.

A soul booster.

You had gotten lost in your thoughts again, not even realizing when Roxie kissed Sungchan goodnight before he headed home.

Nor when Wonbin pretended to be sleep so no one would wake him as you slept peacefully on his shoulder.

Nor how he left your side once Roxie went to her room to sleep, reaching for the dust-ridden acoustic guitar hiding in a corner of your loft after a long forgotten ex-roommate left it behind as a “farewell” gift.

Nor the warm and woody melody he started to play from the other end of the couch, the gentle hums from his throat luring your busy mind from its slumber.

Your eyes opened with lazy blinks, vision slowly keening in on the lit joint that hung from his mouth, the sound of his fingers sliding against the fretboard and strings sending shivers down your spine.

Or maybe that had more to do with the winter air thrumming through your dorm room's cheap windows.

From the look outside, you’d guess it was sometime around 1am.

The stars were sparkling in the sky and the world beneath almost dead quiet.

“Oh- sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Wonbin said in a half-whisper, noticing the way you were glancing at him before taking the blunt from his mouth.

“Oh, no… it’s okay, I was just… I didn’t mind…” your words trailed off to a mumble as you sat up a little straighter on the couch, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “What song was that? It sounded really pretty from what I heard.”

“Yesterday… by the Beatles,” he smiled, getting up to set the guitar back in its original place of abandonment, “it would’ve sounded even better though if I had a pick with me.”

He took another huff from the blunt, exhaling through his nose in a familiar manner as he offered it to you, “Want some?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, taking the blunt from his hand before inhaling the herb yourself, though, it was slightly different from the one you had in Wonbin’s kitchen the other night.

“It’s some of Sungchan’s pot,” he said in a husk voice as if reading your mind, “Don’t go too crazy though, ‘cause his shit’s pretty strong.”

He peeked at you through his wavy bangs, waiting for a cough from you that never came.

“Are you buzzed yet?” You asked after taking another huff or two yourself, playing with the smoke in your mouth before blowing it out slowly.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “don’t know how I managed to play a full song, but... yeah... I'm trashed.”

“It must be a talent, I guess,” you hummed at his words, just now noticing the lit candles sitting at random areas in the kitchen and living room.

Good thing, because it helped to drown out the scent of marijuana.

“What else are you good at doing while high?”

His tongue clicked at the roof of his mouth as a subtle yet unmistakable smirk creeped on his face, perfectly matching the rosy hue that began to stain his cheeks.

“You thought of something dirty, didn’t you?”

“Maybe…” he chuckled, widening the distance between his legs a bit as he sat.

Was he… teasing you?

Your eyes fell down to the blunt he placed on the ashtray beside the table, it’s lit bud ceasing with a quiet hiss.

“I’m guessing that wasn’t free either, huh?” You joked, shaking your head at yesterday's memory.

“Nope,” he smiled, “but… you still haven’t returned the favor from your first hit, so I won’t be too mean for now.”

Of course he’d bring that up again.

Right here, right now as you sat mere inches in distance from each other, both buzzed out of your minds.

“And if you were to be mean,” you started hesitantly, biting your lower lip before continuing, “what would that look like?”

He thought on your words carefully before answering, “Well, I doubt it’ll ever come to that anyway, so don't worry about it.”

“Oh, and is it the weed making you confident all of a sudden?”

“No, just the simple fact that you’ll pretty much do anything I tell you to.”

You scoffed, “That’s crazy talk.”

“Is it?“ he pressed, inching closer to you. "Kiss me,” he said, lips just a gentle wind's push from touching yours.

You didn’t budge, but your heart beat escalated all the same.

“Cute,” he smirked, his large hand finding the length of your neck, gliding up to your jawline as his thumb toyed with your lower lip. “I can see it all over your face that you want me, ____.”

“Then why are you asking for it?,” you teased.

“Because I wanted to hear you say it first… even though I already knew you’d let me do this,” he whispered, closing the space between you with a kiss, his warm mouth engulfing yours as the scent of his woody cologne filled your senses.

His other hand found your lower back, pulling you impossibly close to him as the sound of both your hearts beating and his needy grunts consumed you.

Much like the watercolor moth on his wrist, Wonbin’s gentle and vibrant masculinity couldn’t get any more precious in this moment.

This is exactly what he was looking forward to, whether he decided to guise it under the façade of a favor or be completely straight up with you, he finally got you right where you wanted.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you tugged a bit, desperate to hear more of his pretty sounds before the shadow of a smile wavered over Wonbin’s face at your actions, up until he felt your knee bump his hard-on through his pants, causing him to hiss.

“You’re being rough with me,” he said in between kissing your mouth, his hot and thick tongue darting past your lips as the kiss become messier.

Louder.

“And?” You asked, pulling away from his lips before leaving a trail of wetness down his neck, paying extra attention to a spot that made him twitch in his seat.

“And it’s so fucking hot,” he almost moaned when your teeth grazed his skin, his back meeting the couch arm as you subconsciously grinded your hips against his pants, straddling him.

“Is this how you wanted me earlier,” you said, stopping your movements, “when we were outside in the cold?”

By now his shirt was off and your fingers unbuckling his belt with gentle clinking sounds from the metal.

“No,” he said in an impossibly deep voice, looking dead at you as he spoke, “My first mind wanted to fuck you silly in the backseat… but I couldn’t to that to you.”

You giggled at his choice of words given how high you were, shimmying his pants down a bit further before halting at the waistband of his boxers, palming him gently through the fabric.

“Why not?” You asked in a soft voice, contrasting with the fierce grip you had on his clothed shaft.

“Because... even though you’re being an impossible tease right now, I felt like you deserved better than to be fucked in your best friends boyfriend's truck,” he said with a shaky voice, gripping at the couch to contain himself.

You appreciated his consideration in your heart, but didn’t wanna say anything out loud, especially not while your hands were on him like this.

And thank God for these thick curtains, otherwise the whole world would’ve seen how red his throbbing tip looked after finally being freed from the restrictions of his boxers.

You started at the base of his length before gliding upwards, spitting on the head that was already leaking a bit of his early release.

You started to pump him slowly, pearly white precum standing out as it mixed with your clear spit like watercolor.

“Use your mouth for me,” he almost begged, eyes falling victim to a blurry haze as his knuckles turned white with his grip on the cushions.

You teased him a bit by letting your warm breath ghost over his tip, eliciting a groan from him as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

The desperation inside of him only grew from here as your warm and wet lips finally wrapped around him.

You hollowed your cheeks a bit, hands resting at either side of his hips as you began using your tongue to help you take him inch by inch.

“Mmm, feels so fucking good, baby,” he said with a strained voice, his hands finding your head before his thumbs grazed your lips, one of them prying to squeeze itself into your mouth with his already thick cock.

The sight alone was enough to make him buss, so he threw his head back, biting his lip harshly to contain his sounds.

You hummed against his dick, almost feeling it in your chest once his hands pushed your head down further.

He just couldn’t deal with your teasing anymore, wanting to feel you more than he could begin to explain.

He bucked his hips upwards, rutting into your mouth like a bunny in heat. “Aww, fuck,” he cursed, watching the way your eyes glazed with tears.

He always managed to see you crying one way or another, and he loved it every single time.

Your fingernails dug into his sides as the sound of your gagging became hard to miss. He released your head with a sigh, panting as both of your faces burned with heat.

He didn’t expect you to start pumping him again though as soon as your mouth left his cock, but you knew he’d end up missing your warmth in seconds anyways.

“I wasn’t trying to be mean when I did that, by the way,” he sighed, biting his lip as you looked back at him with moist eyelashes, “I just couldn’t hold bac- nghhh~.”

A broken moan escaped his mouth once your hands found his balls, gently cradling them in your hands while alternating with pressures, your other hand still stroking him.

“I’m doing quite the favor for you, Wonbin,” you said with a rasp voice, your throat a bit sore from his actions on top of the smoke you huffed earlier, but he figured it made you sound hotter anyway. “Are you sure I’m not overdoing it?”

“Mmm… no, p-please don’t stop, baby,” he whimpered shamelessly, screwing his eyebrows tightly.

You felt yourself clench around nothing at the nickname, and judging from the way his face changed, you’d bet he noticed.

By now, he could hardly keep still, the muscles in his stomach flexing just as you felt his balls tighten, just as he was finished, chest heaving with need as you rode out his high.

That's when you started to take off your jeans, tossing them in the corner somewhere as he practically drooled at the sight of you in just a baggy top and panties, a dark spot forming at the center of your core where your arousal started to leak through.

“____,” he paused you, bringing you into his lap, your warm core sitting right atop his aching hardness, “you don’t have to go this far if you don’t want to.”

“Well maybe this isn’t just about me owing you anymore,” you whispered, kissing him on the corner of his mouth, “what if I want this?”

His cock stimulated you through your panties as he thought on your words, subconsciously rocking your hips back and forth.

“Then I’ll let you have your way with me…” he said with a rasp whisper, kissing up your neck as one of his hands massaged your tits, his other hand sneaking past your underwear to find your soaking wet clit, rubbing it slowly but with such a pressure that your fingers clung to his broad shoulders.

“I want you to make me feel like I’m falling apart,” he groaned against your skin, spreading your slick all over your aching pussy lips, “I want you to ruin me.”

You didn't waste any time with aligning him at your entrance, sliding down with ease most of the way given how wet you were.

He groaned as your tight walls fully consumed him.

“Fuck~,” you whined, feeling euphorically full as he started thrusting into you, hands gripping at your back as he became overstimulated inside you.

The drugs must've made you feel extra sensitive, especially with the way his tip fucked against your g-spot. You looked into his teary eyes, stoking his face as you helped to bounce with his movements, lewd sounds bouncing off of the walls.

“You’re being so fucking good for me, baby, just like that," he moaned as you clenched around him, too high to give a damn about filling you up raw with thick spurts of his cum.

“Wonie,” you whimpered, feeling as his hands roamed all over your climaxing body.

You felt every part of him in every part of you, and to say the least, it was worth all the awkward moments it took to get here.

THE NEXT MORNING, you woke up with your head resting on Wonbin’s chest, his messy hair spread about his head as you felt his breath faintly on your head. You probably looked like two babies with the way you were cuddling each other under the blanket.

It was a sickeningly cute sight, one might say.

“Sick and twisted,” you heard Shotaro say in the back of your mind, just as Wonbin groaned beneath you with a cat-like yawn.

“I still feel high,” was the first thing he said, making you giggle a little more than necessary before looking him in the face, the effects of your night together ever-present on his face.

“I feel…good,” you smiled.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you hummed back, peeling yourself from his body as you blinked the tiredness from your eyes.

“You can keep a secret, right?” He asked hesitantly, voice barely audible given how quietly he spoke.

“With my whole life,” you answered, now making eye contact with him which was surprisingly way easier to do than a day ago.

He found your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “We should do each other favors more often… but… maybe not call it that.”

Was he initiating a sexual relationship with you?

Maybe something more?

“Well…” you started curiously, “what would you wanna call it instead, then?”

A grin peeped on his face that quickly softened when he licked his lips, giving your hand a squeeze once again before parting his lips to speak. “Maybe-”

“Fuck,” Roxanne sighed with annoyance, “you horny ducks didn’t blow my candles out last night… now the wax is no good,” she sulked.

“Oh, s-sorry about that, Roxie, we were smoking and it helped the smell,” Wonbin answered first.

“… wait, did you just call us horny ducks?” You asked with a mix of confusion, offense, and realization.

She heard you two.

Hell, of course she did.

“What? You think I didn’t hear Wonbin and his vocal ass practically singing as you did… whatever you did to him…?,” She rambled on, washing her hands in the sink before pulling some from produce from the fridge.

“Oh my God,” Wonbin cringed at himself, covering his face with his hands, though his ears were clearly burning red now.

“The blanket… you brought it in here, didn’t you,” you asked her, just now noticing that it was one she kept at the end of her bed.

“Yep! You’re welcome, freaks,” she chirped through a mouthful of raw celery, drawing your attention to the knife and cutting board she handled, “I’m gonna need your help soon though, ____. We're cooking for a mini get-together later with Taro and Sungchan.”

You hummed at her words, folding up the blanket while thankful that despite how high you two were last night, you managed to put your clothes back on before the sun came up.

“You guys should get cleaned up first, too, by the way,” she said, side-eyeing you as she diced a few green onions. “And preferably not at the same time, please... I’ve heard enough moans for the rest of this week, thanks to you two.”

⚡︎ a/n: I just wanna say thank you to everyone who read this goofy lil piece I wrote !! It's been a while since I wrote something that wasn't requesting, and I had so much fun getting back in my creative mode again !! Hopefully you guys enjoyed it as much as I did huhu !!

📍 check out my NEW RIIZE masterlist

⚡︎ tag list: @ashgonedash @jaylaxies @fakeuwus @ot7sevenlvr @nqvgue @riizebinnie @cherriruto @sungbbinieworld @kvstjwonnie @yjshannie @hyunjinsnumberonefun @nikisdubblchococake @babigriin @greasywall @snrrpyzen @squoxle @wonbinkisser @quirkymoon @bominute @serenityqtz @bahraini-aphrodite @jewjewbee04 @minslatte @svtf1lms @suquitoz @hyunilinia @yeonkis @pixiewoni @loljungwon @sunwonkiworld @iizanaa @bambseung @deadpool15 @s1eepyanahi @wearscvn @spkyfy @urfavmommy @anna-357j @numberonetaleprince @write4cench @choqolei @zhonglele02 @xenkimmie @whoslio @leeknow-minho2 @songbird033

#riize smut #riize x reader #wonbin smut #wonbin x reader #riize scenarios #park wonbin #jung sungchan #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours #riize ff

2K notes · View notes

mwahbabe · 5 months ago

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˖⁺‧₊ ˚✧ my lil brainstorm/potential fics list ˚ ⋆ ☆

chloe price ☠︎⋆₊♰.

🍰🍰🍰

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ baby stoner reader!getting high with her for the first time

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ chloe x stem! reader headcanons

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ cuddles and wake n bake with her

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ chloe with a māori wāhine

🌶️🌶️🌶️

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ dom chloe rocking ur shit

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ perv!chloe :))))

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ chloe eating your ass :)

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ dealer!chloe x reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ chloe x bartender! reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ chloe x spicy videomaker! reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ mechanic!chloe x reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ siren!reader luring her into the ocean and fucking her before eating her <3

max caulfield ⋆𖦹⚡︎

🍰🍰🍰

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ being her muse

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ coffee date with her

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ max x mean!reader with a soft spot for her<3

🌶️🌶️🌶️

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ max being your spicy photographer

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ max x barista reader that’s actually a spicy video creator

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ sleepover with her ;))

rachel amber ⋆⭒˚.⋆

🍰🍰🍰

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ rachel x stem reader headcanons

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ rachel x masc reader headcanons

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ rachel x hyper-femme reader headcanons

🌶️🌶️🌶️

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ rachel with a spicy video maker! reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ pornstar! rachel x pornstar! reader collab

ellie williams ☄︎. *. ⋆

🍰🍰🍰

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ loser ellie headcanons

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ loser ellie with popular!gf reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ ellie with a māori wāhine

🌶️🌶️🌶️

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ friends to lovers

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ loser!ellie loves eating you out

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ ellie x pillow princess! reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ ellie x camgirl! reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ ellie x mean!reader with soft spot for her

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ ellie x stripper! reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ inmate! ellie x inmate! reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ siren!reader luring her into the ocean and fucking her before eating her <3

abby anderson ‧₊ ⟢․⁺

🍰🍰🍰

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ domestic headcanons

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ movie night with her & ellie (ellabs)

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ abby with a māori wāhine

🌶️🌶️🌶️

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ helping her unwind

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ body guard! abby x stripper! reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ older! abby x reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ abby being your gym coach

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ prison guard! abby x inmate!reader

violet ✦°．•

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ vi x diva!reader headcanons

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ vi x stem!reader headcanons

🌶️🌶️🌶️

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ dealer!vi x reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ vi + abby being your personal trainers

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ being vis client (stripper/hooker)

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ inmate! vi x inmate! reader

sevika ⋆✴︎˚｡

🍰🍰🍰

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ domestic headcanons

🌶️🌶️🌶️

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ being her client at the brothel/strip club

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ her stretching your little pussy out

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ sevika x brat/diva reader

jinx ⁺˚⋆｡✩

🌶️🌶️🌶️

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ pornstar!jinx x pornstar!reader collab

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ stripper! reader x stripper! jinx friends to lovers

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ sub! jinx aaaa

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ making sub! jinx squirt

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ squirter sub jinx brainrot

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ perv!jinx caught masturbating with your dirty panties

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ breeding kink jinx(you or her haven’t decided yet maybe both;)

caitlyn kiramman ‧ ₊୨୧˚₊

🌶️🌶️🌶️

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ prison guard! cait x inmate reader (reader seduces her)

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ cait x diva! reader

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ being her sugar baby

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ caitvi x you poly relationship

‧₊ ᨳ⟢․⁺ being cait and vis client at the brothel (maybe just cait too idk)

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minisugakoobies · 1 year ago

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Hideaway | KHJ

Pairing: Hongjoong x Gender Neutral Reader (AFAB) Genre: smut, crack, strangers to lovers, Frat Bro!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: smoking/edibles, stoner!hongjoong agenda, woosan side pairing, oral fixation (as in the author reader is obsessed with joong's mouth), to be fair it's a very filthy mouth, dry humping, biting/marking, tit pinching/sucking, fingering, hongjoong goes downtown & eats it like a vulture, aka cunnilingus, wet & messy, cum eating, a tiny bit of exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism Word Count: 7.1K Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: When your friend keeps dragging you to frat parties, all you want to do is find a place to hide and get high. You definitely don't expect to meet a man with a devilish smile and an even more wicked tongue.

A/N: Hello I'm back with more Ateez! This one's a very self-indulgent fic about getting high with Hongjoong. It all stemmed from discussions with @kiestrokes about what a gorgeous mouth Joong has 🥴 Lokie, I hope you enjoy what you've wrought 😜💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Like this fic? Want me to keep writing Ateez? Please let me know!

ATZ Masterlist 🍃 Main Masterlist

One hour. That’s all San asked of you. Go to a party with him for one hour, because his crush was going to be there, and he needed your support. As his best friend and roommate, how could you say no?

Two hours into the party, you’re wishing you’d put your foot down. You’re worn out from art studio this week, where it had been your turn to face group critique. Honestly, after that experience, you really don’t want to be around other people for a while. You long to crash on your couch with a stash of junk food and video games and not move until class on Monday. Instead, you’re holding up a wall in a frat house, watching your best friend dance with Wooyoung, the Alpha Tau Zeta brother who’d caught San’s eye.

You’re happy for San, truly, but a bit surprised at how quickly things escalated from “OMG he’s so cute, do you think he’d dance with me?” to Wooyoung climbing your friend like the mountain he is. San looks completely lovestruck as the other man wraps his arms around his shoulders, and you sigh, resigned to your fate.

San had promised that you’d leave together, saying he’d treat you to your favorite waffles at your favorite diner after the party, and you’d agreed, but now that means you’re stuck here for god knows how much longer. You could find him and tell him you changed your mind and you’re gonna go. He’d say okay, but he’d say it with that pout of his, and as long as you’ve known San, that pout has owned your weak ass, so there’s really no point. You’ll just wait.

However, hovering like a third wheel isn’t your idea of a good time, so you decide to find somewhere else to hang out. The room is packed with couples grinding, and you weave around them carefully, trying to avoid the beer sloshing about as a girl beside you really puts her back into it. The kitchen is just as cramped as the living room, a beer pong match taking up most of the space, so you keep wandering, until you come to the foyer, where there’s a staircase to the second floor. Wanting to put as much distance between yourself and the loud music, you start to climb.

It’s much less crowded upstairs. There are a few people scattered along the hallway, talking in small groups, or heading into the bedrooms, all of which have closed doors. You’re a little afraid of what you might walk in on if you open one, so you keep moving, hoping to find a quiet spot to sit and hide.

Instead, as you round a corner, you come to a dead end. But to your left, there’s a window that’s cracked ajar, night breeze just teasing you with enticing coolness after the rank humidity of the dance floor. You press your palms to the glass, peeking out. It looks like the window opens onto the roof of the back porch.

Gently, you lift the sash until you can stick your head out. The roof is flat, not sloped. It’s fairly dark, with only the moon above and the string lights crisscrossing the yard providing a pale glow. And, most blessedly, it is devoid of other people.

As quickly as you can, you shimmy out the window.

The backyard is dotted with kiddie pools still full of jello from the last wrestling tournament. In between the pools, the ground is a squishy mess of colorful gelatin and disgusting mud, which means that there are very few partygoers outside right now, besides a handful that you can hear beneath you, hanging out on the porch. But they can’t see you, so you can live with that.

Settling with your back pressed to the brick wall, you take a deep breath, relaxing. Even though it’s so late in the fall that the weather is already flirting with winter, it’s a nice night to be outside. The air is crisp, but you’re plenty warm in your sweater and jeans, toes tapping idly inside your boots. The moon plays hide and seek behind some passing clouds while you observe contentedly.

“No one’s supposed to be out here.”

“Fuck!” You jump, so surprised to hear someone address you. The voice came from the shadows of the opposite corner of the roof, where another window mirrors the one you came through.

There’s a short burst of laughter, and then someone leans into the light.

Reddish-orange hair hangs over a dark brow, above eyes scrunched nearly closed in glee, further expressed by a full bottom lip twisting upwards in a smirk. As you will your racing heart to ease off, a guy you’ve never seen before carefully steps across the roof. He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt over a long-sleeved striped shirt and jeans. His shirt doesn’t have any letters on it, but he must be a brother here if he’s trying to tell you what to do.

He’s almost unfairly gorgeous, this stranger who scared you nearly to death, and he’s laughing at you.

You attempt to recover your cool, leaning back against the wall again. “I didn’t see a sign.”

“It’s kind of unsaid.”

“Well, it kind of needs to be said,” you shoot back a little snappily, annoyed that your peace has been shattered. “You’re out here, too, you know.”

“I live here.”

“So that’s fine, then?”

He grins, a wicked thing that has your neck flaming with sudden heat, and slides further out of the darkness, until he’s about an arms-length away. “Ok if I sit here?”

“I mean, if unspoken rules don’t stop you, what’s me literally saying ‘no’ gonna do?”

Another quick ratatat of laughter. “You’re funny.” He drops down beside you, tipping his head back to rest against the wall.

You don’t say anything to his comment, waiting for him to say something else. Like explain why he’s out here or who he is to tell you where you can’t be or anything. A minute passes, then another. You hear the people on the porch heading back into the party and then there’s only the dull thumping of the music inside and the sound of the crickets chirping in the yard.

You wonder if you should say something to the stranger, maybe explain why you’re out here, but he seems pretty content to sit quietly, and if he’s happy to remain silent, so are you. He doesn’t seem like he’s going to actually kick you off the roof, so you release the tension in your shoulders, inhaling deeply again, and match his pose, staring up at the sky.

The wind stirs, brushing your cheek with gentle fingers.

“Not into parties?”

You glance over when he finally speaks. His profile is striking - sharp jawline, straight nose with just the slightest upturn. It makes you wish you had your sketchbook with you. He’d make a lovely model right now, pretty face lit by the soft luminescence of the moon.

“It’s not that. Just been a long week. I was planning on a quiet night in. But my roommate had other ideas.”

“And now you’re stuck here, waiting for them?”

You nod. The stranger hums.

“Yeah, I can sympathize. Kinda hard to have a quiet night here, like… all the time.”

It’s your turn to hum. “But… did you not know what you were signing up for when you joined a fraternity?”

He laughs again. You’re starting to really like the sound. “Do I need to remind you that you’re not supposed to be out here?”

“Do I need to remind you?”

“Fair.”

Another comfortable silence. This is your type of stranger - one who respects the sanctity of quiet moments. After a few more minutes, you decide, fuck it, and reach into your crossbody, pulling out your vape pen. You’re not going to get high high while you wait for San, not the way you had planned to do if you were at home melding with the couch, but you can at least take the edge off.

But before you do, you hold the pen out to the stranger. “Want a hit?”

He raises an eyebrow, nods.

Your gaze lingers maybe a few seconds too long as his lips wrap around the mouthpiece, drawing the smoke into his lungs and holding it there for a few seconds. He hands the pen back with an exhaled thanks.

You take your turn, tipping your face up to momentarily blot out the stars with smoke. The light cherry flavor hangs on your tongue while you hand the pen back over without asking. The stranger takes another lungful.

“So… do you have a name?”

“Of course I do,” you reply. Dumb questions get dumb answers. “Do you?”

His lips curl into a bright smile. “I do.”

Another pass. You check your phone, just to make sure San hasn’t sent you any messages. He hasn’t. He’s probably affixed to Wooyoung’s gorgeous face by now.

“Hongjoong,” the stranger says after another inhale. “I’m Hongjoong.”

“Nice to meet you, Hongjoong. Thanks for not throwing me off your roof.”

“Thanks for the tokes.”

He grins at you again, full teeth, and you can’t help but beam back. He really is rather cute -

“Hongjoong! Are you out here again?”

One of the brothers you’d seen playing pong earlier has his head out the window behind Hongjoong.

“Yeah, I’m here. What’s up, ‘Hwa?”

The other man looks past Hongjoong, squinting into the darkness. “Is someone out there with you? You know no one’s suppo-”

“Seonghwa. What do you need?” Hongjoong’s tone shifts, becoming a little authoritative.

“You better get in here. Mingi’s trying to get everyone to go streaking again.”

“So?” Your pen is still in Hongjoong’s hand, heading to his lips as he takes another puff. “He’s always trying to do that. No one ever agrees.”

“So, I guess he thought the best way to convince everyone was by going first. He’s currently doing naked laps around the beer pong table.” Seonghwa frowns. “It’s really throwing off my game.”

Hongjoong sighs, an exceptionally weary sound. Rising to his feet, he brushes off his jeans. “I better go put a stop to that.” He glances down at you. “If anyone tries to kick you off here, just tell them I said you have my permission.”

“And I need that?”

The smirk returns. And then he has the audacity to wink. Before you can catch your breath, he’s climbing back through the window.

Silence envelops you again. You lift your pen to your lips one more time before tucking it away.

The minutes tick by.

When the clouds drifting across the stars start to look like tantalizing wisps of cotton candy, seemingly close enough that you could reach out and grab some, your stomach lets out a growl. Maybe you should go grab San away and tell him it’s time to bounce. You’ve done your time. There’s a perfectly golden waffle just waiting for you to drown with syrup at the diner.

Besides, you can’t wait out here all night for cute boys who may or may not return. As much as you might want to.

“Again?”

Two weeks have come and gone since San dragged you to ATZ. And now here he is, knocking on your bedroom door and giving you his best puppy dog eyes as he informs you that Wooyoung’s invited him to another party tonight.

“Do you really need me to go? I thought you guys were hitting it off.” The two of them had been exchanging texts like crazy, and had gone on a date last weekend. You hadn’t seen your best friend this giddy in ages.

“We are. He’s amazing,” San sighs, a faraway look in his eyes. “But I need you there so I have a reason to leave. I don’t want him to think I’m easy.”

You try, you really, really do, but you can’t stop the laughter that bursts out of you. San has proudly called himself a slut on more than one occasion. In the three years you’ve been besties, you’ve never known him to deny himself some dick.

“Stop laughing!” San puffs his bottom lip. “I’m serious. I really like him, and I want to take it slow.”

“That’s so sweet,” you coo, pinching his cheeks. He ducks his head with a tiny “aish,” but you know he’s not mad. “But why can’t you just make up a reason not to stay?”

The pout returns. “Because he’s hot and I’m weak. Please, help me out?”

Sighing, you cross your arms. He’s not the only one without a backbone. “Maybe. What’s in it for me?”

“I knew you’d ask that.” With a grin, he holds out a small ziploc baggie. “Here.” He tosses it your way.

It’s a brownie. You grin. “Oh honey, you baked!”

San returns your smile. “The batch came out a bit stronger than usual, so that’s why it’s just a little square. Half of that is probably enough for you. But if you go with me tonight, I’ll let you have the rest of the pan.”

And just like that, you find yourself at another party packed full of people. This time, the beer pong table has been replaced with a giant ice luge, with coeds lining up to take their turns slurping jungle juice off the frozen display. You give the luge a wide berth, not wanting the sticky liquid to splash the boots you’re wearing. All the seats in the living room are occupied, and dancers are taking up all the open space left, so again you head upstairs.

Unlike the last time you were here, the roof does not provide you an escape, thanks to the chilly autumn rain that simply won’t let up tonight. It’s like the universe doesn’t want you pulling a Houdini this time. At least you have your brownie with you. You just need to find somewhere to enjoy it while you wait for San.

The doors to all the rooms on the second floor are closed, so you keep moving, climbing up to the third floor. No one’s in the hallway up here, and there’s a room with the door wide open, so you peek your head in.

Rows of books line shelves built into the two of the walls, The third has a fireplace, unlit, with photos of the fraternity brothers hanging above the mantle. There’s a rather nice overstuffed couch and a pair of high-backed chairs facing the fireplace.

“These frat boys live like kings,” you murmur to yourself, creeping forward to examine the portraits. Your eye is immediately drawn to one in particular, a redheaded man with a bright smile, whose photo bears the title “President.”

“I’m having the strangest sense of déjà vu,” a voice suddenly declares.

Whirling, you find the same man watching you from the doorway. Tonight, he’s wearing a white shirt decorated with big red hearts, unbuttoned halfway down his chest, and a pair of tight jeans. And that sexy smirk of his.

You frown, clutching your racing heart. “Do you enjoy sneaking up on people like that?”

“Only when they’re somewhere they shouldn’t be.” Hongjoong taps a sign on the door, which declares in extremely big, bold font: ATZ ONLY - KEEP OUT. “It’s clearly stated that this room is off limits. So what’s your excuse tonight?” Though his words are sharp, the gleam in his eye is playful.

Your lips twitch. “That sign probably would’ve worked better if the door had been closed.” You give him an appraising look. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs making sure your brothers keep their clothes on or whatever?”

While he huffs in amusement, you wander over to one of the walls of books, running your fingers along their spines. They’re all labeled with a year. Grabbing last year’s, you let it fall open to a random page of photos. Wow, some of the brothers appear to be really allergic to shirts -

Hongjoong snatches the album from your hands, closing it with a snap. “That’s private,” he informs you, slipping the book back into its slot. “And don’t try to change the subject. No one’s allowed in here but myself and my brothers. So come on.” He jerks his head towards the door.

“Counteroffer,” you say, producing your brownie from your bag.

Hongjoong pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “What is that?”

“A brownie.”

His eyes narrow a little. “Would you say there’s anything special about that brownie?”

You nod. Hongjoong glances out into the hallway. Then he closes the door.

“You’re awfully easy to bribe,” you inform him as the two of you settle on the couch, you in one corner, him taking the spot next to you. Carefully, you pull the brownie apart, handing him half.

“Don’t tell anyone. Can’t have my reputation getting ruined.” He holds his half up. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you giggle, tapping your half against his before taking a bite.

Hongjoong devours his brownie in mere seconds. A bit of chocolate clings to his lower lip, his tongue flicking out to capture it, and you force yourself to focus on the remainder of your half, so you’re not just sitting there staring openly at his pretty mouth, as much as you’d like to.

“So, is this your thing? Going to parties just to hide and get high?”

“Ha, no. Not normally. But my roommate keeps insisting that I come with him.”

“And where is your roommate now?”

You snort, licking crumbs from your fingertips. “Probably suctioned to Wooyoung’s face.”

Hongjoong laughs. “Ah, you’re friends with San? He seems like a great guy, from what Woo’s told us.”

“Woo talks about him?” You can’t wait to tell San. You can hear his bashful giggles now.

“Yeah. He won’t shut up about him, actually. It’s nice, but it’s also annoying as fuck.” Hongjoong winces. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be so blunt.”

“No, it’s fine, I get it. I love San, but I can only take so much puppy love before I get nauseous.”

“Exactly.” Hongjoong grins. He sinks down further into the couch, legs spreading open as he gets more comfortable.

The two of you are quiet for a moment, long enough for your brain to start asking questions. Is he planning on staying here with you? You’d kinda figured he’d eat the brownie and then go. Shouldn’t he be down at the party, if he’s the president of the frat?

“You know, you don’t have to babysit me. I’m not gonna do anything in here but melt into the couch for a little while.”

Hongjoong shrugs. His left hand plays in the rip above the knee in his jeans. “It’s not that I’m afraid you’re gonna do something. It’s just…” he trails off for a few seconds, lost in thought. “I’m not in a party mood tonight. You might not have been trying to hide, but I was.”

“Oh. Shit. Do you - would you rather that I leave, so you can be alone?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, you can stay. If you want to. I don’t mind your company.”

“Oh,” you say again, in surprise. Something flutters in your chest when he looks at you. “Okay.”

Hongjoong’s fingers return to the tear in his jeans, picking at the strings. “So… do I get to learn your name tonight?”

Oh, right. You’d never actually introduced yourself on the roof.

He peers at you, clearly waiting for your answer, and the flutter gets stronger. What is it about his gaze that makes you want to tease him?

“I don’t know,” you sigh, tilting your head as you look at him. “Have you earned it?”

His eyebrow quirks slightly. “Didn’t know I had to.”

You merely shrug, biting back a grin. He focuses on the wall opposite the couch, mulling over your words, while you sit beside him, primly arranging your skirt over your tights-covered thighs. The couch is ridiculously cushy and you’re already starting to relax into it.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll just go downstairs and find San,” he says after a moment.

“That’s cheating!”

“Oh, does that upset the rule breaker?” He clutches his chest in mock horror, grinning when you laugh. “Excuse the fuck out of me.”

“I’m not a rule breaker. I just…” you falter for an explanation.

“Don’t care for parties and prefer pot over people.”

Hongjoong cracks up at the face you make in response to his too correct reading of you.

“You’re doing a terrible job of earning my name, just for your information,” you sniff, but when he laughs harder, bumping his shoulder into yours, you cave, giggling. He doesn’t move away when the laughter tapers off.

You make a little small talk. The usual stuff - what’s your major, where are you from, etc. He’s a music production major and apparently spends all his time in the studio, on the opposite side of campus from where your art studio is located. No wonder you’ve never seen him around before.

Eventually the room falls silent again. If it weren’t for the thumping coming through the floor, you could almost forget there are other people in the house. You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, ears straining to make out the music drifting from the first floor. It’s only the drums and bass that you can catch, something pulsating and rhythmic. Hypnotic, lulling you further into relaxation.

That’s when you feel it. That telltale body buzz that starts in your feet and spreads all over. Your thoughts become a little floaty, each one drifting away before you can really grasp them, and you turn to Hongjoong.

“I think I found the drugs,” you giggle.

Hongjoong lets out a single “ha” from deep in his chest, and then he hums. You let your head fall back against the couch and close your eyes.

“Oh shit, there they are,” you hear Hongjoong say, with another laugh, and you start to giggle again, and when you look at him, he’s watching you, and you wonder what it would be like to kiss him right now, with his face so close to yours. His lips look very kissable, meant to be nibbled and sucked. You long to, biting your own lip as you fantasize about his taste.

Hongjoong sighs. “Damn, I feel good. Thank you. You’re officially my favorite trespasser.”

“Is that a long list?”

His grin widens. “Longer than you’d think.” His eyelids lower a little as he leans closer. The air feels like it’s heating up around you now. Your skin tingles from your high, and it only increases when Hongjoong’s fingers cup your chin. “Can I kiss you?”

“Why?” is what flies out of your mouth in surprise, even though you’re dying to feel his lips on yours.

“Because I like kissing pretty people when I’m high.”

Heat pools in your belly, and you shift on the couch, reaching for him. As your fingers twist in his shirt, your mouths connect. It’s a slow, wet kiss, tongues warm against each other, rolling over and around. Messy, but neither of you care, both lost in the sensation.

When his arms wrap around your back, you slip into his lap, straddling his thighs. His head tilts up to greedily chase your mouth, and you tug his bottom lip with your teeth, shivering at the way he groans. His fingers dig into your shoulder blades as he pulls you down on top of him, so there’s no distance between you, just clothing and heat between you.

Hongjoong nudges your face with his, getting you to turn your head so he can nibble on your earlobe. His hands fondle your ass beneath your skirt, grabbing and pinching the ample flesh through your tights, while his mouth ripples down your cheek and neck, covering your skin in soft kisses, before finding your lips again.

It’s been too long since you’ve made out with someone like this. The last few people you kissed with all treated it like an annoying chore, something perfunctory that had to be performed in order to get what they really wanted. Hongjoong holds you like you’re something to be slowly explored, something to be savored, not just used.

“Feeling good?” He leans back for a second, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he peers at you. His face is flushed, lips darkened from your nipping, and the rather fucked out sight of him has you clutching at his shoulders, desperately pulling his mouth back onto yours.

“So good,” you moan when you come up for air, rolling your hips. He feels so amazing underneath you, hard cock bulging obscenely in his jeans, that you can’t help yourself, humping away mindlessly while you kiss, whining slightly when you can’t quite find the right angle to ease the aching in your clit.

Hongjoong laughs into your mouth, fingers sliding up to grab your hips. “Slow it down, baby,” he whispers, pressing more kisses along your jawline. With his strong grip, he takes control, guiding you back and forth, slower, but more forcefully, his own hips moving to grind himself up into you. “‘M not going anywhere. Take your time.”

Your whole body shudders at his words. With another pitiful whimper, you snake your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair as your mouth dives for his again.

Take your time. If he insists. With his encouragement, you lose yourself in the languorous pace he’s set, soaking panties rubbing on the rough denim below, friction building, a wave that never crests, just rolls on and on. You know you could do this for hours, make out and dry hump like this, without coming. It takes you much longer to come when you’re stoned, but the orgasms are so intense that it’s always worth it.

Your fingers brush over his neck and he shudders beneath you. Intrigued, you lower your mouth to his collarbones, picking a spot exposed by his open shirt, and gently bite down. He groans brokenly, hips jerking upwards, and you lick at the same spot a few times, lazy, slow strokes, before sucking, painting his skin with a love mark.

“Fuck,” he hisses, bucking again, with renewed urgency. Giggling, you sign your work with a light nuzzle before he grabs your chin, frantically bringing your face to his for more kisses, wet and filthy and so sensual that you feel like you’re nearly going feral with desire.

“Hongjoong,” you whine, needing more of him, greedy hands lacing into his hair. Your sense of touch is so heightened right now that the strands feel like silk wrapping around your fingertips.

As you moan again, Hongjoong’s hand travels to your neck, fingers playing there, curling and uncurling. “When you say my name like that, you know what it makes me wanna do?”

“Wha-what?” Your thighs are starting to get damp, covered in slickness from the sound of his husky voice. You grind down harder, gasping in pleasure when he meets your movements with a powerful thrust of his own.

“Sit you on my cock and fuck you stupid.” He bites his lip, looking down at your chest as it jiggles under your sweater. “Let you ride it. Could you do that for me? Ride it real good?”

“Fuck yes!” There’s no hesitation in your answer. It’s all you want right now, to feel him all over you and inside you. Yes, of course you’d be so good for him, because you know he’d be good to you. Even though you’ve only really just met him, you feel it in your soul.

“I bet you would. Ride it like a fuckin’ champ. Make it bouncy.” His right hand squeezes your ass, making you squeal into his kiss.

A dreamlike haze hangs over everything now. You stare open-mouthed while his left hand fondles your breast over your sweater. Then he tugs your top up and your bra down, far enough for the cool air to kiss your exposed skin. His deft fingers pinch your nipple sharply for a few painfully pleasurable seconds before his hot tongue replaces them, and your drug-and-lust-addled brain wonders dumbly for a moment who let out such a shameless mewl before you recognize that it was you.

Time stretches in that surreal way that it does when you’re high, making every minute feel like an eternity. Hongjoong laves his tongue over your other nipple, sucking the pert bud into his mouth, and you keen, head lolling back while pleasure ripples through you. His tongue is magic. You bet he gives good head. You hope you find out.

Unfortunately, though, while you’re wondering what his mouth would feel like on your cunt, time has not actually stopped, and there is still a party going on. Which you are rudely reminded of when it suddenly spills over into the room, popping the little bubble that you and Hongjoong have been hiding in.

“Don’t worry, no one’s ever in- oh, shit!”

A loud curse draws your attention away from Hongjoong’s tongue and to the tall brother standing in the doorway, frozen like a deer. There’s a cute coed holding his hand, peeking around him to see what made him yell.

“Yunho, what the fuck, man?” Hongjoong groans, a scowl twisting his kiss-swollen lips. “Get out!”

You’re moving sluggishly, brain lagging with arousal and what you’re recognizing is a lot of THC for such a small brownie, but Hongjoong seems to have more of his wits about him, as he carefully lets go of your sweater so you’re covered again. He doesn’t try to slide you from his lap, just places his hands on your waist to keep you steady.

Tall guy’s sputtering now. “I-I’m sorry, the door wasn’t locked, and - “

“It’s fine, Yun, just go, all right?” Hongjoong glances at you. “You okay?”

If you were sober, you’d probably be horrifically embarrassed to be caught tits-out. Might even run for the door so you could go home and hide for the rest of the weekend or month or year. But between the brownie and the man currently checking in with you, you’re feeling too good right now to really give a shit what anyone else thinks.

You nod at Hongjoong’s question, beaming happily. A crooked smile spreads across Hongjoong’s face, his thumbs etching tiny circles into your sides.

“Hongjoong?” Yunho’s basically a statue at this point, completely immovable in the doorway. “I know we’re not supposed to let anyone else in here, but seeing as how you have someone else in here, uh… am I gonna get in trouble for this?”

“If I say no, will you fuckin’ leave already?” Hongjoong glares at the other man, and it does not escape your attention how sexy he looks when he’s mad.

“I don’t know. I mean, we’ll leave, but I don’t know if you’re just saying that to get me t-”

“Get out!”

Your sudden shout snaps Yunho into action. He slams the door shut, leaving you alone with Hongjoong, who is gawking at you with his mouth hanging open. Oops. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that.

“Sorry,” you apologize, cringing. “I didn’t mean to shout.”

“No, that was so hot,” Hongjoong declares, leaning forward to kiss you eagerly.

“Yeah?” you pant against his lips in surprise.

He nods, nose jostling yours, and kisses you again, and again, until you’re dizzy, needing oxygen, but you’re unwilling to tear yourself away from his mouth. All you want is to lose yourself in him again, crawl back into that heat from before.

Just as you feel it starting to happen, he pulls away.

“We should probably lock the door,” he says, but he doesn’t move. His eyes are studying your face carefully, you realize, looking for any signs of objection. For some reason, that just makes your answer even more affirmative.

“Good idea,” you reply, slipping off his lap and crossing the room in three quick steps. You shoot him a glance over your shoulder as you twist the lock. Either the pot is slowing his reactions as much as it’s slown yours, or he doesn’t care that you catch him openly staring at your ass. He grips his cock through his jeans, hand flexing as he squeezes slightly.

His gaze is too intense even from across the room. It makes you shy, has you lowering your head as you return to the couch. His fingers slide under your chin, tilt your face up to meet his ravenous lips as he guides you onto your back.

Your boots hit the floor one after the other, followed by his sneakers. One of his arms props him up over you. His other hand grips your thigh, spreading your legs apart, allowing him to slot himself in between. He swallows your sigh when his fingers roam inwards, slipping against your core.

“Damn, baby, did I do all this?” he asks, rubbing at the dampness seeping through the layers of your panties and tights.

You pluck at the buttons on his shirt, palms skimming over the warm skin that’s revealed beneath. He hisses quietly when you brush over his stomach. Seems it’s not just his neck that’s sensitive. Good to know.

“Yes,” you nod, squirming slightly when he drops his hand to cup you. His thumb applies a bit of pressure so achingly near your clit that you whine, almost as loudly as you’d yelled before. “Please tell me you’re gonna do something about it.”

He smirks then, that maddeningly taunting smile of his. The one that tells you not to be fooled by his quiet demeanor. The one that tells you he’s trouble. “As soon as you tell me your name.”

His hand drags frustratingly slowly upwards, spreading your slickness as it goes, making you whimper. “Hongjoong!”

“No, that’s my name.” His fingertips are crawling now, moving closer and closer to the waistband of your tights, one millimeter at a time.

The anticipation is driving you insane. And it seems you’re not the only one enjoying it, judging by the way he’s rutting his bulge into your thigh.

“Don’t tease,” you complain, pouting.

“But that’s my favorite part,” he shoots back, grinning madly. Fuck. He’s trouble for sure.

His fingers trace shapes over your hips, back and forth, long lines that have you huffing in frustration. Then he curls them under the waistband, pulling them down, just the tiniest fraction of an inch, then another, tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip as he looks at you, and then -

He stops.

You groan, head tossing back to bounce against the arm of the couch.

“YN, my name is YN, fuck, I yield!”

“That didn’t take long,” he gloats. “So desperate for me. I love it.”

If you weren’t still high, you might be embarrassed. Instead, you’re brazen, whimpering in agreement. You want him, just like he wants you, why bother to hide it?

He finally releases you from your misery by rolling down all that annoying clothing that separates you from him, tossing it onto the floor. A gentle scrape of his fingernails on your bare skin has you trembling, begging for more of his touch. He obliges, lowering his mouth to leave hot-breathed kisses on your thighs.

“Y’know what else I like to do when I’m high?” he asks, watching you with hooded eyes. His hands haven’t stopped moving, are languidly pushing your skirt up to your waist.

“What?”

“Eat pussy.” He licks his lips. “Wanna eat you, baby. Can I?”

“Please,” you groan, reaching for your skirt, pulling it up as far as you can, baring yourself to him. He grins, fingers spreading you open, and you twitch as the little puffs of his delighted laughter swirl over your sensitive skin.

Hongjoong flattens his tongue, dragging it up and down a few times. You keen, fingers digging into the wool of your skirt, clutching the material tightly, when he keeps moving up, circling your clit, before he undulates his tongue, making the tiny nub bounce. Then he switches back to licking stripes, pressing the taut muscle more firmly against you with each pass.

You feel like your entire body is pulsating in time with your clit. “Oh my god.”

“You’re so wet,” he groans happily, lapping without restraint at your pussy, sloppy and loud. “Could fuckin’ drown down here.”

His mouth. It’s sinful, how good he is with it, the way he kisses your folds and sucks on your clit. Uses it to say the filthiest things, keeping up a running commentary:

Look at you, dripping all over the place. Such a mess, baby. Let’s see how much wetter you can get.

Could eat this pretty pussy for hours and never get my fill. Got me so greedy.

Mmmph, love the way you taste. Bet you’re even sweeter when you come.

You don’t catch every word, given the way he mumbles them into your cunt, but you hear enough to have you babbling in response, chanting his name and praising his skills over and over.

When your words dissolve into moans, Hongjoong changes it up, adding his fingers to the mix. His mouth seals around your clit while he strokes inside you, warm walls spreading to allow his lithe digits to plunge in and out. Then he thrusts his tongue into your clenching hole, using his fingertips to roll your thrumming nub around, lightly squeezing as he fucks you with his mouth.

“Hongjoong!” You’re losing your mind, your entire body vibrating with pleasure. “Holy shit, please!” Can’t even finish your sentence, your foggy brain too busy focusing on holding your head up so you can watch him. Drool runs from the corner of your mouth, lips slack as you pant wildly.

He laughs, popping off your clit with a loud slurp. “Please what?” He nuzzles his face against your thigh, kissing it gently. “What do you need?”

“I - I need…” You break off with a sudden mewl as he presses insistently into that soft spot on your inner walls, like he’s trying to leave an impression of his fingertip. “Oh fuck, right there, don’t stop!”

“Don’t worry, I got you,” he vows, catching your eye. His face is a mess, hair damp with sweat, a shiny layer of your arousal smeared all over his mouth and chin. His hips keep rolling into the couch beneath him, and his voice wobbles a little as he speaks, but his gaze is unwavering. “Just lie back and let me do my thing. I’ll get you there.”

He drops his mouth to your cunt again, and keeps his word.

Time expands again as the tension inside you snaps. Your orgasm pulsates through you, flowing like a wave through your tingling body, wiping away all coherent thought, even turning your vision white for a few long seconds. Hongjoong’s fingers continue to massage your g-spot while his tongue still flutters over your clit, and you slowly come back to yourself, inhaling deeply before sobbing his name.

He lifts his head momentarily to observe the results of his hard work. “That’s it, baby. Let go,” he murmurs, tongue skimming down to lap at your release. Lost in ecstasy, you thread your hand through his hair, tugging his face closer to your cunt, and ride out your high on his tongue, hips bucking erratically. He voices his approval with a guttural moan.

Like any other time you’re high, you come for several minutes, shaking and twitching, panting and moaning. When your pelvis finally ceases moving and your fingers release their grip on his hair, Hongjoong pulls away. He doesn’t sit up, just lays his cheek on your hip, dark eyes scanning your face.

“I was right. You taste sweet when you cum.”

Jesus. That mouth. You start to giggle, flustered by his statement, both embarrassed and pleased, and he joins you, head bouncing slightly on your shaking stomach. Suddenly you’re overwhelmed by the need to feel him on top of you, to let his weight press you down, anchor you to reality, so with frantic hands you guide him back up to your waiting mouth.

His kisses are slower now, softer. He’s still hard beneath his jeans, grinding into you, but it’s not as desperate as it was when he was humping the couch. You slide your hands down his chest, down his stomach, down to where the buttons on this waistband lay.

Hongjoong ignores your little cry of protest when he suddenly draws away, sitting back on his heels and peering down, glimmering eyes merrily taking in the state of you.

“You’re gorgeous,” he tells you, and you believe him. “I’m glad you broke in here tonight.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. “I didn’t break - you know what? Not important.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, staring pointedly at his crotch. “Don’t you need help with that? I’m more than happy to return the favor.”

He smirks. “The party’s not over yet. We’ll get there.” Your stomach somersaults at the promise laced into his voice. “But speaking of parties…”

Right. Holy shit, there’s still an entire frat partying right outside these walls. Hongjoong’s unbelievable tongue managed to make you forget that for a while.

“I should probably go downstairs and check on things,” he finishes with a sigh, buttoning his shirt up halfway.

It’s strange, you’re still basking in the afterglow of your climax, and yet you can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

It’s just like when you get really high and then eat an entire convenience store’s worth of snacks. Weed makes you insatiable. Hongjoong just gave you an earth-shattering orgasm and you’re already dying for more.

Maybe you should thank him and let the moment be what it was.

“Right. Of course.” Begrudgingly, you let him go of him. He rises slowly, stretching and rolling his neck. “Um. That was great. I guess… I guess I’ll see you around?”

Hongjoong laughs, gesturing for you to stand. “Come on, you’re coming with me.”

Your heart pounds a quick beat at his smile.

“Why?” you inquire. “Worried I’ll learn all of Alpha Tau’s deepest darkest secrets if I stay here alone? Think you need to keep an eye on me?”

“Nah,” he replies, grabbing your hand. You let him tug you to your feet, let him pull hard enough that you crash into him, your palms landing on his chest while he slings his arm around your back to catch you. “I just want to keep my hands on you.”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong fanfic #fic: hideaway

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darlingi-loveyou · 6 months ago

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will solace headcanon time i love my boy

- casual stoner. when he gets breaks from the infirmary, he and drew get weed from behind the dionysus cabin and smoke together. they like to do it on the big house porch because dionysus couldn’t care less—the only reason he doesn’t do it with them is because he’s not sure if it goes against his punishment from zeus—or behind the apollo cabin when chiron’s around. piper has a cart and the two of them take hits from it and talk shit whenever she comes to visit. he doesn’t really smoke around nico though, just because he’s said he doesn’t like the smell (nico doesn’t really care otherwise, since it helps with will’s anxiety), and definitely not around percy because of everything that happened with gabe

- he’s started talking to dionysus about his anxiety, imposter syndrome, and seasonal depression. dionysus wants to talk to him about testing him for mild ocd

- his hair looks like a renaissance painting of patroclus, just blond

- loves his friends so much. he’s their biggest supporter in the entire world and if they didn’t all live at camp, he’d probably try to convince them to all live in a giant house together

- he’s very casually affectionate. he says i love you a lot, but he always means it. hugs and kisses his friends on the cheek. physical touch is his giving love language (he always makes sure he has consent, first, obviously)

- his receiving love language, however, are words of affirmation. he needs to verbally hear that he’s doing a good job—as a friend, as a boyfriend, as a healer, as a son, just in life

- he’s trained himself to be a light sleeper after years of working in the infirmary and becoming head counselor. sometimes his body just wakes himself up in the middle of the night and he has to sit in the infirmary until he’s positive that everything and everyone is fine and he’s literally the only one awake

- similarly, he has a crazy sixth sense of knowing when his stop is if he ever dozes off on public transport, and always wakes up two stops before. he thinks it stems from spending his a lot of his formative years traveling around with his mom while she toured, constantly waking up in new cities

- he iris messages his mom every night and tells her every single detail of his day

- being both a true crime junkie and a medic at a demigod camp, gore has absolutely no affect on him. this boy delivered a baby and has reattached countless limbs; he falls asleep listening to podcasts where twenty-something women talk about serial killers so notorious they have to give a content warning. a Saw trap isn’t going to faze him

- he met maren morris when he was younger and his mom opened for her. he got her signature and is still planning on getting it tattooed, he just hasn’t had a chance

- he has a very high pain tolerance and has a lot of stick-n-pokes, some of which he did himself, including a wonky-looking star that he let nico do and woobeewoo from Adventure Time

- his favorite music artists include kasey musgraves, taylor swift, leith ross, baby fisher, gracie abrams, fiona apple, fleetwood mac, dolly parton, carrie underwood, and troye sivan

- “ribs” by lorde makes him cry

- so does “the bug collector” by haley heynderickx

- he’s terrified of spiders

- he cries when anything at all happens to a dog in a movie. he watched All Dogs Go to Heaven with nico and was a such disaster by the time the credits rolled that the two of them had to sit there for half an hour until he calmed down. he has a core memory of watching Bolt with his mom when he was little and sobbing into her arms at the end. his siblings have expressly forbidden him from ever watching A Dog’s Purpose, for fear that it would literally send him into a deep depression

- kayla literally bought him cargo pants because she was so sick of him wearing shorts in the middle of winter. he’ll never admit it, but they’re his favorite pants he owns

- his fictional crushes are rodrick heffley, both marceline and marshall lee, jennifer check, edward cullen, alice cullen, ella of frell, prince char, nefara de nile, and jade west

- his mom took him to to see a free, outdoors production of Romeo and Juliet when he was twelve and he really liked it. he hates reading, and the combination of dyslexia and shakespeare is interesting to say the least, but he woke up one night missing his mom a lot, and found a copy of the play on one of his siblings’ nightstands, and decided to try reading it for nostalgia’s sake. that lasted about ten minutes. kayla woke up at the crack of dawn to go practice archery alone and found him in the empty infirmary, where he went so he wouldn’t wake anyone up with his glowing, sound asleep in a chair with the book still open in his lap

- it’s easy to forget he’s from texas when you hear his voice after years of living at camp, but a soft southern drawl slips out when he says certain words, and especially when he sings

- his favorite taylor swift eras are debut, fearless, and lover

- he knows how to shoot a gun and has insane aim, much better than when he shoots a bow and arrow. because of this, he feels very strongly about mandating gun laws and safety regulations because he knows firsthand just how dangerous they are. nico has no idea and will’s just waiting for the moment he can surprise him with it

- he has perfect pitch and lowkey doesn’t even realize it

- his handwriting is so atrocious he can’t even read it himself. one time he enlisted nico to take notes for him in the infirmary, but nico’s cursive was almost harder to read than will’s chicken-scratches

- caffeine has almost no affect on him, except maybe spiking his anxiety, but he’s gaslit himself into thinking it keeps him alert

- he’s extremely empathetic, just knows how to put on a brave face

- he has literally no idea how to ask for help. my boy is so used to taking care of everyone that people have to literally beg him to let them help him with work or console him

- he desperately wants a cat

#girlblogging #percy jackson #will solace #also this is will solace coded #naomi solace #apollo #apollo cabin #cabin 7 #nico di angelo #piper mclean #drew tanaka #austin lake #kayla knowles #pjo hoo toa tsats #the trials of apollo #the sun and the star #dionysus #mr d pjo #chiron

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ghost-in-the-hall · 2 years ago

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Flowers (Phantom x GN! Reader) FLUFF

WARNINGS: Recreational smoking 🌿, doesn't go into detail, all fluff, Primo being a dad, Phantom being sweet, cute, and nice. Just a good old innocent mutual crush. Not proofread, sorry if there's any mistakes with keeping it GN, please feel free to let me know if I missed anything so I can correct it!

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good morning Papa." You greet Primo with a smile, carefully setting down the cup of tea you had brought him on his work bench.

"Good morning il mio Bambino." He responds softly, completely engrossed in his task of pruning one of his many bonsai trees. "When you get a moment my dear would you be able to do me a small favor?" You breathed out an amused sigh. You had been Primo's assistant for a while, enjoying the slow pace of working with the eldest Emeritus brother.

"Papa, you don't need to ask." You giggle, bringing a smile to the older man's face. "Anything you need I'll take care of, don't worry."

"You truly are too good to me." He shoots you a wink causing you to playfully roll your eyes. "There's some produce that needs harvesting in the greenhouse. I was hoping I could have your assistance collecting it all."

"Of course. Let me just make sure I don't have any paperwork to file first." You give his shoulder a gentle squeeze as you pass, leaving him to finish his pruning. You fell into the chair at your desk with a sigh, flipping your letter opener around in your hand to sort through the daily mail. You paused as something caught your eye. A single sunflower sat at the edge of your desk. You picked it up curiously, a smile finding its way to your lips as you spun the stem between your fingers. "Thank you for the flower Papa!" You call into his office. You hear the scraping of his chair against the wooden floor, Primo emerging in the doorway moments later.

You glance over your shoulder as you hear him chuckle. "That flower isn't from me, my dear." He raised an eyebrow at you. "Perhaps you've caught the attention of someone special, hm?" You couldn't stop the blush from spreading across your cheeks as you giggled.

"I doubt that," you state with a wistful tone as you continue to admire the flower in your hand, "I'm pretty plain compared to a lot of the other Siblings. This was probably supposed to be a gift for you if anything."

"I'd like you to keep it regardless." He gently pats the top of your head. "And you are not plain. You have a smile that could light up any room, a laugh so melodic it would rival Cirrus' piano. You're a kind, beautiful soul inside and out. Not to mention your Papa's favorite." He teases with a wink.

"Thank you Papa." He holds out his arm for you to take.

"Come il mio bambino, we have a lot of work to do." You slide your hand into the crook of his elbow, allowing him to prattle on about whatever came to his mind as you made your way to the greenhouse together. No matter the task, working with Primo always managed to put a smile on your face. Over your time as his assistant you had grown quite close to him, Primo had become somewhat of a father figure in your life. The two of you would sit and chat about everything while you worked; filling each other in on the gossip you heard around the Abbey, Primo telling you stories of when he was in his prime, both of you unwinding with a nice cup of tea at the end of the day in his cozy office. Today was no different. You were both droning on about how, somehow, Sister Imperator had been even more stern than usual lately.

"Maybe you should offer her a joint, it might help her stop being so uptight all the time." Primo chuckles at your statement.

"You might be right, I heard she used to be quite the stoner in her day." You both paused at the sound of the greenhouse door slowly creaking open. Primo began to stand, you motioned for him not to trouble himself.

"I'll go see who it is Papa, it's probably just one of the Siblings from the kitchen." You rise with a groan, meticulously pulling off your work gloves before stuffing them into your pocket. As you approached the entrance you were met with the sight of a Ghoul curiously looking over the plants. He froze the moment he picked up on your presence, like a child getting caught doing something they weren't supposed to be. His shoulders relaxed as he realized it was you who emerged from the greenery and not the eldest Emeritus. "Phantom?"

"Hey." He returns your greeting with a sharp smile, fangs glinting in the bright afternoon sun that glimmered through the glass roof. "I was sent to ask Primo about some of his tea." He nervously shifts his weight between his feet.

"Oh, he's right back here actually." You motioned for him to follow you. Phantom takes a couple long strides, allowing himself to walk by your side. "You help in the greenhouse too?" He asks genuinely. You nod, giving him a small smile.

"I work pretty much wherever Primo needs me." You chuckle softly. "If I'm being honest I'd rather be out here than at my desk, it gets awfully stuffy in there sometimes." You whisper to him, as if it was a secret just for the two of you. You found Primo still diligently harvesting the produce you had left him with. "Papa, Phantom needs to ask you about some tea."

"Papa," Phantom bows his head slightly in a polite greeting, "Copia sent me. He's having, uh… that problem again. He said you'd know what I meant." His eyes widened slightly as he waited for Primo to remember what particular ailment he was referring to.

"Right," Primo claps his hands together. "I'll go grab the senna." Once Primo is out of view Phantom's attention immediately shifts back to you.

"What are you two harvesting?" You smile at his curiosity, aside from Primo and the other Siblings that helped in the gardens no one ever seemed interested about the work you did in here.

"Berries mostly." He trails closely behind you as you return to the plant you had been previously seated in front of. "The raspberries came out wonderful this year, I don't think we've ever had this big of a crop." Phantom kneels next to you in the dirt, eyes darting between your hands as they worked and your face.

"Can I ask a silly question?" He inquires sheepishly.

"There are no silly questions." You give him a reassuring smile, gently bumping your shoulder against his.

"What do raspberries taste like?" You paused. You had gotten so used to seeing Phantom dart around the Abbey that you had forgotten he had only been summoned a little while ago. Something as simple and well enjoyed by you he had never experienced before.

"Would you like to try one?" He nods eagerly. You search through the bush, looking for the best looking berry you could find. You carefully held it between your fingers as you offered it to him. "Now, I'm going to warn you, they have seeds and they're kind of fuzzy." He squints at the fruit, bright violet eyes analyzing it closely. He takes the berry between his teeth, taking extra care to make sure his fangs didn't accidentally graze your fingers. He chewed it slowly, eyes never leaving your face.

"It's good… sweet." He smiles proudly at his small triumph. His gaze travels to the top of your head. "You, uh, have a leaf." He points to your hair. You attempt to brush it away on your own but you could tell by the expression he was giving you that it was still there. He cautiously reaches towards you, untangling it from your strands before discarding it on the ground. His eyes scan over your features, a smile coming to his lips as he brushes the disturbed hair back into place. "Beautiful." You let out a flustered giggle. You both jump as Primo speaks up.

"This should take care of Copia's problem." He holds out a jar of herbs to Phantom. Seeing both of your bashful states he pauses. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?" He gives you a smug grin.

"No Papa, we were just talking." You nervously fidgeted with your fingers as you spoke.

"Thank you for the tea Papa. (Y/N), hopefully I'll see you soon." He flashes you another dazzling smile before making his leave. You couldn't stop your eyes from trailing after him as he left, turning back to Primo once he fully stepped out of sight. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the shit eating grin he wore

"Don't look at me like that." You tried to hide your flustered state.

"I see we fancy ourselves a Quintessence Ghoul, do we?" He returns to the plant at your side with a laugh.

"We were just talking Papa." You reiterate again to try and get your point across.

"Just talking wouldn't cause the two of you to jump like that my dear. I've witnessed my fair share of crushes in my day, it's nothing to be ashamed of." He addresses the matter casually.

"Papa!" You exclaim through a giggle.

"Fine, fine." He accepts defeat, holding up his hands in surrender. "But, when you do finally come to terms with the fact you're attracted to him, I'll be here to talk." He smiles patiently.

You laugh and shake your head, "I don't have a crush on Phantom, it's just…" you trailed off for a moment. You couldn't exactly put into words how you felt. You had always been pretty close with all of the Ghouls, so when the newest members were summoned you were one of the first to be introduced. When you had first met Phantom he was timid, still feeling somewhat awkward in his more humanoid form.

"Walk me through what you're thinking tesoro, maybe I can help you sort things out." You both kept busy as you talked, knowing if you actually allowed yourself to focus on the words spilling from your lips you would end up overthinking.

"He's very easy for me to talk to. It took me a while to form the friendships that I have, but with him it almost felt effortless. The first night I met him there was something about him that was just so… captivating. He was unlike any person or Ghoul I had ever met." You explain.

"You two definitely seemed to hit it off pretty quickly. Up until he met you I don't think I had ever really seen Phantom interact with any of the Siblings, he mostly kept to himself. Perhaps there are a few members of his pack he's close to, but compared to the rest of Copia's Ghouls he seems a bit reserved." Primo remarks.

"That's the thing Papa… he's not." You thought back to one of the times it had just been the two of you. "Phantom is loud, boisterous, confident." His infectious laugh echoed through your memories, bringing a smile to his face. It wasn't uncommon for Phantom to coincidentally stumble across you smoking alone in the garden, enjoying the twinkling starlight as the pungent smell of herb filled the air. Being with him only added to the dizzying head rush you had. Gazing into his eyes felt like you were running through a field of lavender, his fingers bumping against yours making your pulse thrum in your ears, entirely consumed by the image of him mere inches away from you. The two of you in your own world together as you resisted the urge to lean into him. You were snapped from your day dream as a thorn pricked your finger, you winced slightly, letting out an exasperated sigh as reality set in once more. "Him and I just get along really well, that's all." Primo just smiled knowingly. He had seen that far off look in your eyes many times before; pining Siblings stumbling into his confessional to pour their heart and soul out to him over a friend who they swore would never be anything more than just that. You didn't say much for the rest of the afternoon, the memory of Phantom playing repeatedly in your mind as you tried to convince yourself none of that mattered.

"I'll see you in the morning." Primo waves over his shoulder as the two of you part ways in the halls. You headed back to his office, having a few things to check on before fully retiring for the evening. You look behind you as you hear another set of footsteps join your own in the empty corridor. You were a bit surprised to see none other than the Ghoul occupying your every thought round the corner. You smile at the sight of him, pausing to let him catch up.

"Copia wanted me to bring Primo a thank you note for the tea." You found yourself shoving your hands deep in your pockets, the slight brush of his hand against yours sending a jolt through your body, causing you to have an urge you didn't dare give into.

"Primo decided to turn in a little early tonight…" you trail off, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "But, I am heading down to his office now. I wouldn't mind the company if you'd like to walk with me."

"I would love to." He smiles down at you. You blush, quickly darting your eyes down to your feet so hopefully he wouldn't catch your flustered expression. "You seem nervous." You remarked how that was a statement, not a question. You flashed him your most convincing smile, trying to shove your anxiety away so he wouldn't worry.

"It's just been a long day. I'm not really feeling fully… myself, I guess." You found yourself wanting to be honest with him the more you spoke. There was something about being with him that made you feel so undeniably safe that you couldn't lie about how you were feeling. The question flashed through your mind about whether or not Quintessence Ghouls possessed some type of mind control power to make you tell the truth. You noticed him glance over at you out of the corner of your eye. "I promise it's nothing to worry about." You slid into your chair as you arrived at Primo's office, Phantom perching himself on the edge of the desk at your side.

"Have you eaten?" He suddenly chimes. Your stomach decided to answer before you had a chance to, giving off a low angry growl over your hunger. "I'll take that as a no." Phantom chuckles. You return his laugh as you open some of the new letters that had appeared on your desk. You groaned as you recognized Sister Imperator's neat script.

"What now?" Phantom's brow furrowed at your distress. "Great, another meeting with Nihil, Papa's going to be thrilled." You drop your head into your desk with a groan. You felt Phantom's warm head slide across your back, rubbing soothing circles in between your shoulder blades. You reluctantly picked up the receiver of the old rotary phone, dialing the number for Primo's quarters as you propped your chin up in your hand. "Hi Papa." He sighed at the tone you greeted him with, already knowing what was in store for him. "We have a meeting with your Father." You held the receiver away from your ear as a loud string of Italian curses exploded out of it. "I'll be there in ten minutes." You inform him before hanging up. "I'm sorry to run off-"

"It's alright." He cuts you off, grimacing slightly as he realized he had done so. "Are you going to be in the garden tonight?"

You nodded slowly, "probably. I'm sure I'm going to need to unwind after this." You stand with a groan. You collect your belongings, smiling at Phantom as you turn to leave. In a moment of boldness, more than likely brought in by the aggravation of having to deal with Sister, you paused. "These meetings usually take about two hours. I'd really like to see you tonight if you have time."

"I'll be there." He responds eagerly. You try your best to hide your excited smile as you hurry off to meet Primo. The second you entered his quarters he noticed your change in attitude.

"Well, what do we have here? You seem awfully happy my dear." You met Primo's gaze in his reflection. His papal paint half done, still dressed in his gardening clothes. "Might I venture a guess this has something to do with a certain Ghoul?" You knew there was no lying to him in your current state.

"I may or may not be seeing Phantom after our meeting tonight." You spit out your statement hurriedly, knowing he was going to make a big deal about it.

"Hm," he hums, grinning at you, "sounds like a nice little date to unwind after a stressful day, no?" You haphazardly comb your fingers through your hair, trying your best to appear somewhat decent.

"It's not a date Papa, just two friends meeting up." He chuckles at your response.

"Tell me tomorrow if your feelings on that subject have changed." You breathe out a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief for how sure he was of himself. You helped him shrug into his Papal robes before heading to the never ending meeting. Every second felt like an hour, your eyes practically glued to the clock as you waited for the meeting to come to a close.

"You are dismissed." The second Nihil groaned out the words you bolted for the door, not missing Primo's amused expression on your way out. You headed straight for the garden, expertly winding your way to the spot where you and Phantom always managed to run into each other. A smile instantly spread across your features at the sight of him. He had set out a blanket in the pathway, a small spread of various foods set out for the two of you.

"What's all this?" You ask with a soft laugh as you approach him.

His eyes darted to the ground nervously, you noticed him swaying on his heels slightly as he spoke. "Well, I know you haven't eaten so I wanted to bring you some food. I didn't know what you liked so I asked Mountain and well…" He trails off, motioning to the spontaneous picnic. "I was thinking maybe you and I could have some dinner together?"

"I would love to have dinner with you, Phantom." He beams at your response, excitement immediately overtaking his nerves as he motions for you to sit. You sat and talked with Phantom for hours, your body and mind feeling lighter the longer you spent with him. As time passed the two of you eventually cleared off the blanket, opting to lay side by side to gaze up at the stars, a lit joint passed between the two of you. You watched the smoke curl high into the air, the warmth of Phantom's body seeking into your shoulder.

"I really like spending time with you." He speaks up suddenly. You blush at his statement, feeling his fingers ghost over yours both of your hands intertwined carefully. You didn't need to respond, he knew you felt the same way. The two of you took turns pointing out different constellations you recognized until, eventually, you decided you should probably get back to your dorm. Phantom's fingers remained intertwined with yours as he stood, hoisting you from the ground after him. You stumble slightly, falling into his chest. You felt the quick, steady rhythm of his heartbeat under his palm. His free hand lands on your waist to steady you. Your eyes snapped up to his, they glowed a beautiful violet in the moonlight.

"Sorry." You giggle nervously. He chuckles, giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

"No need to apologize, are you alright?" You nod, both of you blushing and mumbling out an apology as you realized you were still holding onto each other, taking a moment to separate. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence through the halls until you reached your dorm. You stood across from each other in front of your door, nervously swaying in your heels. "That was fun, maybe we can do that again sometime."

"I'd like that." Both of you searched for something, anything at all to say, to stay with each other just a few moments longer. But nothing came to mind. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He smiles at you, beginning to turn away. You reach out, catching his wrist in your hand. He looks back at you, a hopeful expression in his eyes. You stand on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Goodnight, Phantom." You take one final glance at him before you slip into your room. You fell into your bed with a sigh, dragging your hands down your face. "He's so handsome." You groan to your empty room. You let your arms fall out to the side, staring blankly up at your system as you remembered Primo's words from earlier. "I've witnessed my fair share of crushes in my day, it's nothing to be ashamed of my dear." You grimaced, that old man really could read you like an open book. You got ready for bed, dreading talking Primo tomorrow that he was right. But you needed advice. You had never taken the whole romance thing into consideration. Sure, you had dated a few people in the past, but none of those relationships really went past the honeymoon phase or initial hookup. You could already tell that if by some miracle Phantom did reciprocate your feelings this wouldn't be a simple fling. You woke with a start, getting into your overalls as you prepared for a long day weeding the flowerbeds. As you entered the garden you found Primo already waiting for me, a cup of tea waiting for you on the bench next to him.

"Good morning il mio bambino." He greets you with a smile. "These were left on your desk this morning." He picked up three white roses, all tied together with a purple ribbon.

"Was there any note?" He shook his head. You held the flowers to your nose, inhaling their sweet scent with a smile. "I'm going to put these in some water." You quickly run to the greenhouse, placing the blooms in a vase so you could take them home later before returning to Primo. You picked up the tea cup he had set out for you, sitting by his side and enjoying the stillness of the early morning air.

"So, how did last night go?" He prods.

You sigh, "it was perfect, I don't know what else to say about it." You chuckle.

"Are you still trying to keep up the façade that you're just friends?" He asks before taking a long sip of his tea.

"As much as I would like to, I don't think I can." You admit with a bashful laugh. "I've definitely got a bit of a crush on him." You spent a good portion of your morning catching Primo up on the events of the night prior.

He looks at you with an amused smile, "dare I say I think he might be feeling the same towards you my dear." He grins.

"I hope so, I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to hide this from him." Primo collects your cup from you as you finish your drink.

"Well you'll have plenty of time to think things over tesoro. Enjoy the flirting, romance is supposed to be fun, you should be basking in the glow of young love." You blush, shaking your head as you playfully roll your eyes.

"I'm going to get started out here, I'll come check on you in a couple hours." He pays your head before heading to his office.

"Don't work too hard." He calls over his shoulder as he disappears from the garden, allowing you to get to work.

"Well what do we have here." You jump slightly as Mountain bounds up beside you, a basket of vegetables perched on his hip.

"Hey Mount." Your hand claps into his as he helps you out of the dirt.

"Primo's got you on weeding duty today?" He asks, a bit confused. Weeding was usually a job saved for new Siblings, Primo believing in a hierarchy of sorts until they got settled in.

"I needed a task that would let me reflect on my feelings." You preach back to him in your best Papa impression. "He's had some suspicions that are proving to be correct."

"Everything alright?" He motions for you to walk with him.

"Yeah." You trail off for a moment. "If I tell you something, can you promise it'll stay between us?"

"Of course, you know you can always talk to me." He nudges you.

"So, there's been someone leaving flowers on my desk the past couple days. Which is super sweet, but I need to find out who it is. Recently I've… come to terms with the fact I have feelings for someone." You chose your words carefully, hesitant to give away who the object of your affection was despite the fact you knew you would end up telling him regardless. "Then on top of that I don't want to say anything to this other person because they might not feel the same."

"First off, I wouldn't worry about confessing your feelings. You're amazing, whoever it is would be so lucky to have earned your affection. Regardless of the answer I'm sure everything will work out for the best. And if you want to know who's getting you flowers, maybe hideout in the greenhouse, they're bound to show up sooner or later." You nodded, that wasn't a terrible plan. "Now, the real question is, who's your secret crush?" He asks in a teasing tone.

"Promise you won't say anything?" You felt ridiculous, you felt like you were in high school all over again. You were a grown adult acting like a teenage girl. Yet you couldn't help the butterflies that erupted in your stomach at the mere thought of him.

"You have my word." Mountain promises.

"It's Phantom." He pauses, looking down at you with the biggest smile. "What?"

"You have to tell him, the two of you would be such a great couple!" You attempt to stutter out a response, Mountain's bluntness getting you completely fluttered. "Seriously though, I think it would be worth a shot telling him. You never know, maybe he could've been your secret admirer the whole time." He chuckles before the two of you parted ways. You headed to Primo's office, already having gotten a good deal of weeding done today. You pushed through his office door with a groan.

"Good afternoon my dear." He greets you jovially despite not looking up from his paperwork. A pair of thin, wire framed reading glasses sat perched on the end of his nose.

"Afternoon Papa, do you need me to take care of anything?" You refill his glass of water in his desk.

"Actually there is, I have a stack of hymns that need to be returned to the music hall. It took me a while to decide which ones I wanted for mass this week." He chortles. You accepted the stack from him with a smile. "When you return we'll have so tea, I believe you're due for a break."

"Of course Papa, I'll be right back." You read through the stack of sheet music as you walk through the halls, humming the melodies presented before you. You kicked open the door to the music hall with your foot. Your ears were instantly met with an all too familiar tune. You glanced up to find Phantom perched at the edge of the stage, his usual black guitar resting comfortably over his thigh as he rehearsed by himself. You sit yourself in one of the chairs in the room, watching as his fingers effortlessly moved across the fret board. He jumped slightly when he noticed you were there.

"Now how did I end up with such a pretty audience." He flashes his fangs at you as a wide grin spreads across his features.

"No matter how many times I see you play you always amaze me. You're so talented." You compliment him, earning a bashful chuckle that made your heart flutter in your chest.

"Thank you." He stands, slowly striding over to you. "Now what brings you all the way down here." You held up the stack of papers.

"Primo needs these returned." Phantom takes the stack from you, knowing howuch of a pain organizing hymns tended to be.

"Want some help? I'm pretty familiar with how Cumulus has it set up in here." He offers.

"That would be great, I'd be here all night doing this by myself." You joke. Phantom clicks on the radio, some oldies station buzzing to life. He slings an arm over your shoulder, guiding you to the filing cabinet where the hymns were stored. Phantom seemed much more relaxed than normal today. He was consistently making jokes, the two of you idly chatting as you sorted everything away. "I love this song!" You exclaim, turning up the volume of the radio. You swayed around the room, humming along with the tune. Phantom chuckles at your excitement. He sets his remaining sheet music down, stepping closer to you so he could pull you towards him. You laugh, letting your fingers intertwine with his as the other slides over his shoulder. The two of you swayed along with the rhythm, Phantom giving your waist a gentle squeeze as he smiles down at you. He spun you around, causing you to giggle. "I didn't know you could dance."

"I wanted to learn to impress someone I like." He winks at you, both of you letting out bashful laughter.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I need you for band practice." Sodo leans against the doorframe, eyes darting between the two of you. Phantom reluctantly released his hold on you, holding your hand a few moments longer than necessary before joining the other Ghoul.

"I'll see you soon." He promises.

"Bye Phantom." You smile at him, waving to Sodo as they both leave. You finish filing away the hymns, clicking off the radio before heading back to Primo's office. The rest of the day passed in a blur, the feeling of Phantom holding you close clouding your every thought. You had decided to take Mountain's advice of waiting in the greenhouse, wanting to tell your secret admirer that you already had your eye on someone else. So, once you had said goodnight to Primo, you slipped out into the gardens in hope of capturing the mysterious florist in the act. You hid in a relatively secluded corner, tucked away behind some lush bushes where you couldn't be seen. Luckily you didn't have to wait long for them to show up. You heard their soft humming approach where you were. The soft snips of pruning shears as they collected their flowers. Your eyebrows knitted together as you realized that this was a voice you recognized. You peeked out from your hiding place. You smiled softly at the sight before you, stepping out into the open, you cleared your throat.

Phantom's eyes shot up to you, he froze as he realized he had been caught. He looks nervously between you and the flowers he held in his hand. His mouth fell open but no words came out at first. When, finally, through all his nerves he actually takes a moment to look at you. Your whole face lit up with a smile, eyes searching his face as you waited for him to say anything. He couldn't believe how cute you looked as you nervously wrung your hands. He stands, offering a small bouquet of red chrysanthemums. "I'm assuming you've been getting my flowers." He chuckles. You carefully take hold of the bunch, gazing it down in awe before placing them off to the side. Your body moved purely on instinct, arms sliding around Phantom's waist as you pulled him into a hug. He tenses up for a moment before wrapping you tightly in his embrace.

"They've all been beautiful." You mumble against his chest. You slowly separated from each other, his gaze catching yours. He smiles warmly at you, those gorgeous, glowing purple eyes causing you to melt.

He gently takes your chin between his fingers. "I feel… strange whenever I'm around you." He admits, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Strange how?" You ask through a smile, laughing as he tugs you closer.

"Sweaty mostly." He jokes. "You make me nervous in a good way." He continues to ponder out loud. "My heart starts to beat really fast, and all I can think about is reaching out to hold you… what kissing you would be like." You blush at his admission.

"You're more than welcome to find out for yourself." Your voice shook as you spoke, a soft breathy laugh punctuating your statement. His thumb ran over your bottom lip, his eyes tracing over every detail of your face.

"I'm sorry if I'm not any good at this." He chuckles.

"Just follow my lead." You tease, your hands sliding up his chest and into his hair as he closes the distance between the two of you. His lips crashed into yours. A satisfied hum left your lips as you pushed your body into his. He held you tightly, as if he let you go you would disappear before his eyes. The kiss started out slow, you slowly guided him through the motions. You had found out that Phantom was a very quick learner. His pace gradually increased, the kiss growing more passionate by the second as he grew addicted to the feeling of your lips on his. You pulled back with a gasp, both of you panting softly. You didn't even have time to catch your breath before Phantom's lips were back on yours, earning a surprised squeak as he pulled you flush against him one more. He pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged.

"That was nice." He chuckles. He places another few short pecks to your lips causing you to laugh softly.

"Does this mean you won't be bringing me flowers anymore?" You laugh.

"Sweetheart, I'll bring you flowers everyday if you want me to." He says with a smile as he pulls you in for another passionate kiss.

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Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @ramblingoak @kissingghouls @mustluvecho @belnovacaine @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @herripinkle @iamsarahsaysso @fleagutz @jennmakesitweird @gothdaddyissues @i-fondued

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askuemki · 1 year ago

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Stickers

Valeria x Fem!reader

646 words Fluff..? Warnings: Implied sex, an attempt at formal formatting.

Needy bitch gets owned w/ stickers (idk how else to summarize it)

"Ugh! You're so... So picky!" you yapped, prodding your hands into your elbows, crossing your arms. Valeria wheezed a laugh, her fingers creeping and nipping at your cheek. "I'd argue the opposite, sweetheart."

For days now, your relationship tensed like a rubber band. You were lucky enough it hadn't snapped thin. Maybe, it was more like those 2000's silly bandz; the tension was fun. You were always bugging her, egging her on to hoard her attention. "Nuh-uh, you're always like: 'You're too weak; bleh-bleh-blehh...'" "I do NOT say that amor," Valeria jested, flicking at your forehead. You yipped, thwacking her side. A charming cackle cawed into your hair, bent over at your "sucker punches." She flumped, a deflated, jolly balloon. Her hand prowled to your locks, twirling within one another. "Such a silly girl." A soft snicker, and an even softer gaze-- a black hole. In her eyes, you were her sun. Her tiny dandelion in a field of weeds. Her firefly in the dark. Her ladybug in the woods. Those thoughts were something she cherished so terribly. "Please...?" "Please.. what?" Valeria's brow flexed. She was too focused on the flowers to even glance at the stem. A groan grumbled from your throat; her sun laid to rest, and the moon took her place. "Please what?? . . .Y'know, I can't work with this chula." Her gaze drooped as she echoed herself, looking down at her grumpy lover. A thumb teased at her lips, snaking to her neck. It swept back and forward, a hypnotizing pendant for both parties. A stuttering sigh broke the silence. "You never listen to me." "I do!" Your head shook. "You don't!! Ugh I was literally just asking you something, but you looked like a stoner." "The fuck about me looked like a stoner?" "You looked high. Duh." "I'm sorry that I'm in love with you." Valeria rolled her eyes, tossing herself away. "...Say that again." Valeria didn't know what the hell you were talking about, engulfing herself in the covers. Her sun glared down harder. It was hot. Torrid. She felt your stare burn through the covers. Then a chill seeped under the comforter. Wallowing in her pettiness grew overbearing, finding you basking in your study in solitude. Her eyes darted around, until an idea dinged in her head. She pussyfoots to your bookshelf, snagging a slip of paper. Sneaking over to you, her fingers slipped to your shoulders. An icky spot clustered on your figure It pestered at your skin...It was like chicken pox? How the fuck are you getting chicken pox at your age?? It was a sticker. Your lover had a smirk tugging her face, prancing away. That sly motherfucker... The sticker was cute, at least. A little glimmering star. Over the day, she kept slapping these stickers. A little meteor shower just for you. It was a bit hard to pinpoint why or when she kept doing this. Lounging around? Sticker slap. Making food? Sticker slap. Eating? Slap. Napping? Slap. Hobby...ing? Slap!! Dragging yourself to the bedroom, a slumbersome yawn belted into the air. A giggle rang from the bed, a piece of the night sky was in Valeria's bedroom, right beside her. Another sticker was placed right on your nose, gifted with a kiss. "You've been good today, I see." Valeria murmured, entranced by your widened eyes. "So you don't hate me?" "What?? No, no." She sighed, holding her universe in her hands. "But like.. You said you wanted to break up with me!!" Another sigh from Valeria, maybe you're the one who can't listen. A soft "no," huffed from her lips, squeezing your flabbergasted face as "punishment." "Stickers are there for a reason, stupid." "Yeah, I know that now, stupid. Maybe if you just said-" She ripped off a sticker, your eyes narrowing in retaliation. "Fuck you." "Gladly." And before you knew it, her hands slithered to your thighs.

#call of duty #cod #valeria garza #cod valeria #valeria garza cod #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria x reader #valeria x you #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x you #cod valeria garza #valeria mw2 #valeria cod #call of duty modern warfare

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misswoozi · 2 months ago

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all of my stoner hongjoong asks stemmed from the RMG i sent about him having nipple piercings. we already talked about how mingi reacted to them -- how do you think vernon would? 🍓

I honestly see Vernon being flustered by them lmao like he doesn't know anyone with nipple piercings, they've never crossed his mind before and then his hot kinda-boyfriend has them and he is just a blushing mess who turns bright red and can't look directly at him when Hongjoong asks if he likes them

#thank you!#strawberry anon #vernon smut #hongjoong smut #ateez smut #seventeen smut

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eroguron0nsense · 1 year ago

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Looking for confirmation of this weirdly widespread belief that Law was originally intended to be a villain?

I hear a lot of people who make One Piece content arguing that Law was probably originally meant to be an antagonist and that Oda only changed this because of how popular he was, and it's... baffling? I know that Oda introduced them kind of on a whim on Sabaody and didn't expect to integrate them into the series anywhere near as much as they did, but the substantiation for this theory seems to be that "Law spends a lot of time smirking in Sabaody and has a scary epithet" which I understand but I personally think seems pretty lacking since, well,

Law isn't the Supernova in Sabaody who actually gets the most villainous foreshadowing, with much more emphasis being placed on Kidd's willingness to murder civilians, and even though he gets a kind of freaky ability he also frees Jean-Bart from bondage and has fucking adorable polar bear friend who he has a funny rapport with and it instantly makes him and his crew seem more appealing? I get that the Dr Heart Stealer theme and his general pre-Marineford/Postwar demeanour *might* lend to that interpretation but the vibe I got from Law was less "genuinely sadistic" and more "this is a shit-eating stoner pirate in his early 20s". He's definitely very different from post timeskip Law and even Marineford/PostWar Law, and has a few mildly menacing lines/loosely implied Doflamingo connection, but I hesitate to say that he was originally conceived of as a villainous character based off extremely limited information and I think that interpretation requires you to ignore certain aspects of Law's character in the arc he's introduced in that might conflict with it. Again, I absolutely think Oda realized that he could make Law a more popular or thematically/interesting character or that he liked the new conception of Law and started writing him differently, but I doubt Oda hard-pivoted from Villain Law to making him a kinda morally ambiguous cool guy character halfway through Sabaody/right after we met him just because of some initial positive fan reception. Edit: I also feel like this stems from how he's described based on secondhand descriptions in newspapers who are very clearly framing him as a criminal? And people just forget that the World Government's descriptions of their enemies (e.g. Devil Child, Surgeon of Death) are not and never have been meant to be taken as 100% reliable or reflective of their characters

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #sabaody archipelago #marineford #one piece timeskip #eustass kid #donquixote doflamingo #as much as I love post time skip law with all I am I low-key want to see him on as much coke as he was doing in Sabaody

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balthazarslostlibrary · 3 months ago

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every time i manage to scrape a cone together from the scraps left behind on old stems and the grit from grinders and seems of bags i feel an immense sense of accomplishment like I am the King of Rat Stoners because i have superior foraging skills and then i have the cone and it sucks

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theragethatisdesire · 2 years ago

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fic-d here, please, i desperately need the smut abc for plug eren because i am OBSESSED with him.

and i also need to know exactly what kind of clothes he wears, for … unrelated reasons.

hiiiii mooty moot <3 can i just say i'm thrilled you asked this. fair warning for anyone about to open below the cut, this is going to be an absolute MONSTER of a post. and i'm going to love every second of writing it lol.

okay first, the outfits. plug!eren is very like, stoner/streetwear type. LOVES layers, lots of hoodies and flannels and jackets, always wearing Vans, really favors a graphic t-shirt (thrasher, anime tees, has a really impressive collection of vintage band t-shirts and limited-edition supreme drops) i shall attach some reference photos:

idk if this is even the right vibe, but just very casual, whatever-works type of clothes. owns like, two button downs vs his 1001 sweatshirts lol.

and now...onto the nasty stuff LOL enjoy lovebug

PLUG!EREN nsfw headcanons under the cut <3

A. Aftercare

plug!eren is 25, yes, but he's also kind of just a boy at heart lol. it takes him awhile to understand the whole concept of aftercare and just laying and spending time together after sex because he bounces back fast, and is already jumping up to cook dinner or get both of you ready to go to a kickback or something like, two minutes after. once you explain the concept to him, he develops a complex for awhile that he "hasn't been treating you well", and goes really overboard LOL but eventually it evens out. becomes a big fan of snuggling afterwards but would never admit it.

B. Body part

eren was a thin kid growing up, and he's super proud of all the work he's put in to change his body over the years. especially proud of his back, it's his favorite muscle group to work and the one he tracks the progress of the most for sure.

on you, plug!eren is an asssss man. like, he's the king of ass men. constantly running up behind you to land a light smack, grabbing it, holds it while you're cuddling etc. also loves your hips? like, he loves when you ride him specifically so that he can hold on tight and grab at the fat around your hips. i cannot overstate how much he loves it.

C. Cum

plug!eren def has a face-painting thing. he loves to cum in you, and it takes him a few hook-ups to tentatively throw out there that he'd love to cum on your face, but after you let him do it the once, it's over. wants to cum on your pretty face and take pictures of you all covered in him every time you fuck.

D. Dirty secret

being an engineering/architect student, eren's not bad with a pencil and paper. loves to sketch the human body as much as he loves thinking up random building designs. not going to elaborate much here bc spoilers....

E. Experience

LMAO plug!eren is absolutely ran through, so yes, he knows what he's doing.

F. Favorite position

for eren, it's a toss-up between doggy or letting you ride him, both of which stem from his thing for your hips and your ass. i think he would say riding him solely because you usually cum harder that way and eren loves watching you cum, but if it's winning out over doggy, it's only by like, an infinitesimal amount.

G. Goofy

it takes him awhile, but once eren's comfortable, he can be such a goofball during the act. like, will giggle with you when you bump your head on the headboard, full-blown belly laughing when he tries to shove you up against the wall and knocks a few picture frames down. once, one of the legs under his bed broke and you both laughed so hard about it that you couldn't even finish the act. absolutely had a photoshoot of both of you pulling ridiculous poses right beside the now-broken bed.

H. Hair

eren's not like, full-blown bush or anything, but i don't see him doing much more than just trimming. he's terrified of nicking his balls or something if he fully shaves LOL.

on you, eren would never tell you what to do with your body (again, ran through enough to know that's a big no-no when it comes to women), but i think he secretly loves when you're completely bare because he's really into watching how you take him. it gives him an unobstructed view, whether he's eating you out, fingering you, or fucking you, he loves to be able to see every bit of you.

I. Intimacy

plug!eren struggles with being intimate, and while he craves it, he hides it under constant rough sex. after you've been together for awhile though, you have a huge, blowout, nearly-break-up fight, and when he fucks you that night, he's slow and sweet and definitely not tearing up, whispering little i love yous into your skin while he rolls his hips against you. making love is definitely in him, it just takes him awhile to get up to that point.

J. Jack off

24/7. no question. this man's sex drive is unbelievable and honestly? sometimes you're too sore or just not in the mood, really. my favorite thing about plug!eren is that when you just can't go another round, he'll have you sit up all pretty and naked for him and just jack off staring at you, making you talk to him and tell you how good he made you feel. lovesick little baby.

K. Kinks

huge pleasure dom. "can't cum again" is not in eren's vocabulary- he knows you can and he knows he can make you, so what's the harm in one more? not sure if this counts as a kink, but eren's obsessed with the way you smell. not just like, your arousal, but your perfume, that little scent that everyone has that just smells like them really gets him going. every time he stays at your house he can't keep his hands off of you, loves to steal little things like a pair of panties or a dirty shirt just to have at his place for when he misses you. could get down with a daddy kink if you were into it. i struggle to think of the word for this, but he's just nasty. his favorite kind of sex is freaky, nasty, flat-out disgusting sex with cum everywhere and the sheets ruined. big marking kink, loves to leave bruises and hickeys all over you as well.

L. Location

plug!eren is very possessive, what's his is his, so not really into the public sex thing, but will take you absolutely anywhere he knows no one could catch you and get a glimpse of what's just for him. really into sex in the kitchen for some reason?? shower sex too, god that is his favorite, just having you soaking wet and pinned up against the shower wall. up against a wall in general, actually. again, he's worked really hard to get all these muscles, and it definitely gets him off how easily he can just scoop you up and fuck you in his arms. might be an ego thing but hey, who are you to complain?

M. Motivation

anything that reminds him you're his. like, if he catches a glimpse of his hickeys on your neck under your makeup? you're going home from dinner early. you're walking around in one of his tshirts? he's bending you over the counter and you're not taking that shirt off for a second. eren's also a very detail-oriented person, so if he tells you he really likes red lipstick for example, and you wear it the next day, he knows it's for him and for some reason the thought of you choosing something to wear that you know will turn him on makes him feral. you're his pretty little thing, and he loves when you show off a little for him. LOVES lingerie. like, the complicated, full-set bells and whistles of garter sets and stockings and the whole thing. embarrassed at first because he can't figure out how to take any of it off of you, but when you just smile at him shyly and pull your panties to the side, he debates leaving you there to go buy an engagement ring LOL.

N. No

surprisingly, anal. eren's very well-endowed and a girl he was seeing for awhile talked him into anal, and even though they prepared well, she was still in too much pain to really enjoy it and it scarred him a little bit. he likes to hurt you within reason, but that's crossing a line for him, so no more than a finger or two and even then, only if you really want it.

O. Oral

LOVES GIVING HEAD. like, could die happy between your legs, it's his favorite part of sex type of loves giving head. has to beg you for it, but his favorite is when you ride his face. also loves receiving. really big into pulling out when he's getting close and having you finish him with your mouth. also loves eating you out after he's cum in you, then spitting both of your cum into your mouth. again, he's a nasty nasty man and i love him.

P. Pace

eren fucks fast and hard, especially once you've gotten used to his size. he has to ease you into it at first, he's not a total asshole, but once you've gotten adjusted, it's all gas no brakes with him. all those hours in the gym really pay off when he can have you bent over for what feels like an endless amount of time, crying and wailing under him.

Q. Quickie

weirdly, LOVES a quickie. totally gets off watching you limp off to work/class after he bent you over the bathroom counter in the middle of you doing your makeup just to make your legs a little extra-shaky for the day. you're both busy, what can he say? absolutely pulls your panties up with his cum in you and tells you to keep it in there for him.

R. Risk

eren's down for whatever you're down for. he's already fleshed out most of his kinks and fantasies at this point, other than a few things he really needs a committed partner for. it really turns him on when you take the initiative to shyly ask if you can try something, and when you come over one day tentatively holding out a pair of handcuffs? oh he's done for. the one thing he doesn't love is being submissive. he'll let you have your fun, choke him a little, ride him, etc., but he really isn't into being a full-on sub and being made to beg. i think that would be his other really hard no, come to think of it.

S. Stamina

eren is, again, ran through, so he's got some stamina. usually can last at least half an hour, sometimes he can even put himself off longer. he loves to try to go multiple rounds, but honestly, he wears himself out LOL. that doesn't mean you're off the hook though. eren might not be able to get it up, but he's got a mouth and some talented fingers and he loves to make you cum over and over just for his own entertainment.

T. Toys

toys are friends, not enemies! eren specifically loves your vibrator, it's small and easy to use in multiple different positions. his absolute favorite is to have you on top of him, fully seated and grinding against his hips, while he holds your vib to your clit. no chance of him getting enough friction to bust early, and he can make you cum at least two or three times like that until you're in tears and begging him to actually fuck you. yeah, that's his fav.

U. Unfair

eren's not so much of an intentional tease (bc he will accidentally work himself up too much and have to leave the bar early lol), but he's just so unintentionally pretty he doesn't have to try. i mean come on, he's beautiful and he's naturally so charismatic and flirty that he can tease without trying. and when you both get home and you're all riled up and pulling his clothes off, it's so entertaining to him. he loves when you tell him how pretty he is, how he got you all turned on just doing nothing but being himself.

V. Volume

plug!eren is a big dirty talker, but he's actually pretty vocal on top of that, too. loves to moan and groan and tell you exactly how good you feel, whether that's with a noise or his words. he's the loudest when you give him head, it just feels so good and he can't help but ramble on and on about how good you are to him. his "tell" that he's about to cum is when he starts rambling, words slurring together and it just seems like he can't shut up.

W. Wild card

eren loves when you're a little drunk, lowest of keys. not so drunk he's taking advantage of you, but when you let the responsible, professor mask slip and just really let yourself go and have fun, it drives him crazy. he loves seeing you happy, and in an honestly almost-perverted way, he loves seeing you go absolutely crazy with your friends. it just makes him so hard to see you uninhibited and dancing in the middle of the club like you own the place, all eyes on you.

X. X-ray

i think this was pretty well covered in the fic but.....yeah it's big. like, a solid eight inches, girthy, veiny, pornstar dick. eren's blessed and he knows it and uses it to his advantage. your favorite game together is to see how much of him you can get down your throat and eren's obnoxiously cheering you on like a coach. "you're almost halfway babe, have you been practicing on bananas or something?" "shut up eren! i'm trying to concentrate!"

Y. Yearning

okay i feel like it's basically canon that eren's ready to go at all times, no matter what, and plug!eren is not exempt from that. on top of this, though, he's really turned on by...idk, mundane things? like when you stretch with your arms over your head and he can see the outline of your breasts through your shirt, the curve of your neck, when you stick a pen through the bun on top of your head. like, the silliest things turn him on, only adding to his super high sex drive.

Z. Zzzz

eren's usually still bouncing off the walls right after, loves pillow talking and staying up late and discussing any topic he can think of under the sun. he's very restless as a person, so it takes him awhile to go to sleep, especially plug!eren. you usually fall asleep first. always has to go rip the bong a few times or he's just got 0 chance of knocking out, but he always sleeps better when you're snuggled up to him <3

#omg this is a MONSTER of a post i am so sorry to all #if you made it this far congratulations #i award u a gold star #THANK U FOR REQUESTING PLUG EREN FIC I LOVE YOU #much ado universe #much ado uni #eren #eren x reader #eren x reader headcanons

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