Attack On Titan x Reader

Pieck Finger - Space Turtle

Summary: Pieck invites you to smoke weed with her, and hooks you up in multiple ways.

Warning: Drug use.

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Pieck twists open her hot pink grinder and presents the contents to you with a wide smile. She sifts through the finely ground, fluffy marijuana.

"Do you see the trichomes in there?" she asks, pointing out the orange flecks amongst the sea of green. "That's how you know this is some good shit. Wanna smell?"

You nod, and hold the bottom half of the grinder up to your nose. An unmistakable aroma fills your nostrils.

"Smells fruity," you observe.

Pieck smiles at you, and hands you a lighter with a light blue plaid design on the plastic covering. You hand her back the grinder, and watch as she gently knocks the herb with her finger into the bowl of a small, glass pipe.

"You can have the first hit," she says, handing it to you. You gratefully accept.

The pipe fits snugly into your hand. A curved base cups the bowl above it, with your thumb resting comfortably next to the small hole in the side. The stem of the pipe is striated, blue and red glass intertwining and twisting into an intricate pattern. Before you light the bowl, you lift the pipe to see the pattern at the bottom of the bowl; the red and blue glass twists together to form a textured spiral in the center.

"Cute pipe," you tell her, before you flick the lighter and hold it above the bowl. You plug the carb with your thumb and inhale, reveling in the crisp smell of the bud burning, the ends curling orange as the smoke rushes into your lungs.

You plug the carb with your thumb, and hand the still-smoking pipe to Pieck. She inhales deeply as well, holding eye contact with you as she holds her breath. She smiles at you contentedly, and lets her eyes slide closed.

Pressure in your lungs turns into a slight tickle, so you begin to exhale, but halfway through, you choke, and cough raspily. Pieck blows out her own hit smoothly.

She hands you a water bottle, which you wrench the cap off of and chug as if it's the essence of life. Your throat still burns, but your lungs have stopped contracting. .

With a flick of the lighter, Pieck lights the bowl and takes another hit. She offers it to you with a small shrug and a small sigh. Smoke puffs from between her lips. You ignore your sore throat and hit it anyway.

After several long seconds, Pieck exhales. "Do you like indicas or sativas better? Or do you not really have a preference?"

You blow the smoke off to the side, with only a slight clear of your throat this time. "Uh, the kind that gets you high?" you say, stupidly.

Pieck blinks, and looks off into the distance with a more thoughtful expression than your comment deserved. "Who's your weed man?" she inquires.

"Nobody, I guess," you reply as you hold the pipe to your lips once again, "I usually smoke with other people. Sometimes I buy from friends who have extra." As the flame hits the bowl, aromatic smoke curls up to tickle your nose. Pieck takes the pipe, chuckling.

"Ah, so you just bum off of other people? Is that what's happening here, then?" she questions, looking pointedly at you.

All of a sudden you feel self-conscious. You let the smoke out through your nose, and cough quietly.

Pieck snorts, and places her hand on your knee. "I'm joking, don't worry. You're welcome to have as much as you'd like. And you need a dealer. I'll hook you up with the guy I usually go to." She re-lights the ashy bowl, and the soft light of the flames dance across her nose and cheeks.